November 7th, 1966

John's Point of View

It was a chilly November night, it was too cold for us to do anything else; so we stayed in our flat for the night. We could've easily gone out with the guys, but Paul was as moody as a girl during mensuration. It most likely had something to do with Jim, I call him Mr. McCartney, or Paul's father. He had gotten into an argument with the lad all because of me. The least I could do is skip hanging out around the town and spend the night with my love.

I wrapped my arms tight around him, and soothingly rubbed his shoulders. He was really tense. I gently kissed the top of his head as well, and told him I loved him. I wasn't one much for cuddling, but by the looks of it; he needed it. I moved my hand down to intertwine our fingers, but I couldn't get comfortable. He laughed at me and sat up some, putting his head on my shoulder. "You an awkward affectionate?"

"No, I just don't know how to properly cuddle..."

He laughed again, it was adorable, and he snugly put his arms around my waist. Then he curled his legs up on my lap and pushed his face into my chest. Instinctively I hugged him close, and gently ran my fingers through his hair. He fell asleep like that.

He only brought the fight up in passing and even looked uncomfortable when he did that. It did though, happen because he found out that his son and I were together. I felt bad for him. It doesn't make any sense to me why anyone would judge a bloke like me. Love shouldn't be shamed, it shouldn't be something you're ashamed of either. I'm famous anyroad, and I'd love to speak out and tell all the other's like me that it's okay. My aunt Mimi doesn't care as long as I am happy. And I am. Happier than I have been in a while actually. I love Paul.

"Darling?" I spoke up just as I felt his breathing start to even out. I couldn't help but start thinking. Maybe Paul doesn't even want me? We keep our relationship hidden from everyone, even our best mates, who I know wouldn't tell. It just scared me that though, especially after what happened.

~•~

I knocked on Jim McCartney's door, expecting to see a man who was happy to see his son. Instead, I felt like I'd just taken a blow to the face when his deep and gravelly voice boomed in my ears. "What is 'e doing here?" The man almost spit as he held his stare with his son, but had his index finger pointing at me. His hands seemed as if they were shaking with anger. "I wanted to see my son. Not my son and..." His voice stopped suddenly and he straightened up from how he was standing slouched against the door way. "Him!" He threw his arms up, making me jump back.

"Father," Paul sighed and fiddled with his bracelet like he always did when he was nervous. "You need to understand something." He paused to wipe something from his lip, using his middle finger. That had become another habit for him, touching his face with his middle finger. It was slightly adorable. "I love John. You can't stop me from doing that."

"Can I talk to you inside?"

Paul nodded and I felt his slender fingers clasp around mine. His hands were gentle, warm, and I loved it. His skin was so soft, mine was a bit rougher. But it didn't last long before I heard his father snap again.

"James! Alone!"

The warmth of his hand soon left mind and he was pulled inside. The door was slammed in my face and all I could do was stand there dumbfounded.

~•~

"Yes?" Paul's voice was sleepy and cute, and he looked up at me from where he had fallen asleep on my chest. He had moved slightly now though, his arms were crossed over his stomach and his feet were propped up against the end of the couch. His hair was all discombobulated as well, and I ran my fingers through it to try and even it out.

"Macca, what happened in there? You're all clingy and quiet. Not complaining, I'd just like to know. Seems like whatever went down hit you hard."

Paul tensed up and looked away from me. I just sighed and held him. He fell asleep like that, looking up at the ceiling with a frustrated expression twisted on his face. I ended up picking him up so I could go lay him down on my bed. I tucked him in and kissed his forehead then I crawled beside him. It was still so cold despite the blankets. I wrapped my arms around him because I was freezing. Surely he was as well. I whispered a goodnight and kissed the nape of his neck really gently. He was perfect. My Paul is perfect. He deserves so much better than me.

November 8th, 1966

Paul's Point Of View

I woke up suddenly, shaking from a nightmare that had disturbed me. John leaving. John hurting me. What my father said wasn't resting easily with me.

~•~

"It's not the fact that you like boy's son," he spoke up; making me slightly less nervous.

"Then what, sir?"

"It's that John, lad. He's a funny one... No good for 'ye... Ever since your mother passed you've had a bad taste in people."

"But she's been gone since I was little..."

"Exactly, James! He's a toxicity to your career. Your sanity as well. I've seen how off he can be with those girls, son."

"I'm not one of those girls..." The tone in my father's voice made me worried once again. He always had a good judge of character. He was right about Jane. She wasn't bad, except that she was faking her feelings towards the end.

"That boy has no respect for you. I will not stand for that."

~•~

His words kept playing in my head. It made my suspicions rise. I had once again got lost in my own thought and jumped when I felt hands on me. Gosh I loved John. I only wanted to keep us hidden. Not because of shame, but rather fear of the public. The only problem was that John wanted to tell. I pushed his arm off me and got up, only after reaching to the nightstand and give him his glasses. I needed to clear my mind and get myself back on track. John is a good person. He treats me right. Yes, he still talks to his ex-wife; but he loves me. He told me he loves me. That had to be true. My Johnny wouldn't lie to me... Would he?

I didn't have any extra clothes at Johns flat. But I still needed a shower. A long hot one. A mind freer. The droplets seemed to flow off my skin and few got caught on my eyelashes. It was all relaxing and I closed my eyes and let the water roll off me. I soaked up the peace as steam formed on the glass. Before too long I started singing, completely losing myself.

"Ohhh Kansas City. 'Gonna get my baby back home! Yeah, yeah!" It was slightly out of tune because I was so tired.

Then there was a knock on the door that scattered my thoughts. I jumped again. Though, being very skittish. I did though, knock over a bar of soap, causing a loud bang.

"You okay, Paulie? Been in there for a while..."

Of course it was John. Great.

"Yes. I'll be out in a few." I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair and shut off the water. I grabbed a towel and put on my dirty clothes. Crap! I didn't bring my comb. I definitely won't use John's. Not that he has lice or anything. I'm just picky about my hair. But I left it the way it was and tried to ignore how nuts it was driving me.

I walked out of the bath to go get something to munch on, but before I got to the kitchen, I felt John's strong arms wrap around my stomach. I was only slightly taller, but he was stronger. He picked me up off the ground and I had to wrap my legs around him to make sure I didn't fall. He attacked my face and neck with gentle pecks from his slightly chapped lips. I chuckled at the gesture and tried to wiggle out of his grasp. Instead of letting me go, his fingers found their way to the sensitive places on my sides. I laughed and gasped as I tried not to kick him, but still struggled to get away.

"J-johnny!" I screeched and cackled as he tickled me more. My face had turned a shade of pink, and my lips were stuck in a smile. "Johnnnn." I yelled again as he started walking away with me, not towards the kitchen. To the bedroom, where he dropped me on the covers and kept violently tickling me to the point where I thought I was going to soil my trousers. I mustered up the strength to grab his wrists and hold him back. "No!" my voice cracked and was seemingly still scratchy. I had only woken up 45 minutes ago and had barely talked. I had just gotten attacked! Hadn't quite caught my breath yet either.

John was just standing there, grinning like an idiot. "I haven't heard you laugh like that in a while, love. I'd like to hear it more of'en..." John held his hand out to help me up, and I gladly took it. He pulled me up, and kept pulling even when I was on my toes. I found myself pressed against him. I wrapped my arms around his waist whilst his snaked around my neck. I was sure my face was scarlet from the blush of the compliment and the lack of oxygen I was getting. I had forgotten how to breathe when I looked at him; someone so stunning.

"Hello," I whispered and touched our noses together.

He smiled and let out a soft chuckle. "Hello," he mumbled as he got closer and caught his lips on mine for a brief moment. Just as I registered and kissed back, he pulled away. I let a whimper escape my mouth. My smooth, almost girly like lips desperately missed my lovers rougher ones. Everything about myself was so smooth and delicate. Everything about John, even down to his voice, was far grittier than mine.

I'd been so uptight these past few days. I forgot how amazing it felt to kiss him. We'd been together so many years, but I still got these butterflies in my stomach whenever I even hold his hand. Pretty much everything about him makes me fall even more in love with him. Well, except for those few times where we'd have fought and he got a little too rough. But that's just John. It was my fault for getting in his way.

"I love you, Paul. I think you deserve a day for just us. No distractions. No Ringo it George. No other friends or family. Just us. How does that sound?"

"Oh yes of course." I didn't mean to sound as excited as I was. It was slightly embarrassing, but oh well. "Where are we 'gonna go? Yer noticed by every breathing human, mate. I don't think that if we go out we will be un-noticed or something like that."

"Well not just me. They'd bombard you first. You're the cute Beatle after all. But we can, uh, stay ere'. Or maybe go back to your place?"

"No. Me grandfather will just try to fill our heads with notions. That's just pure rubbish. Johnny he's just like my old man. He'll just put me down again."

John hung his head slightly. "Then we can grab a disguise from my closet and go out on the town."

I cocked my head and shrugged my shoulders. "Would you mind if I borrowed one of your sweaters?"

"Not at all. You look so adorable in sweaters, mine might be a bit big though."

I sighed and nodded. Wearing something too big could just end up making me look more like a woman. Maybe that could be a good disguise. I already had those soft eyes that John said would 'melt a man' and 'perfectly arched eyebrows.' The baggy sweater, that was a bit feminine and made it seem like I had breasts. All I'd need is a girl's styled mod cap to hide my mop of hair... And I didn't even question why john had one. I smiled, thinking it was a weird thing he just had. My man does love his hats, but I frowned when I realized it was Cynthia's. Why would he have hers? Was the sweater hers too?

"Yeah, if we go out, could we run in a shop? I'd like to cook for you, Johnny."

John gasped. "Macca can cook!?" He spoke in a high-pitched voice and had wide eyes behind his glasses.

I playfully punched him in the arm and crossed my own. "You're so mean!"

"I love you though, Paul. Don't forget that."

"Love you too... I won't, but if I do, it's just too bad ain't it!" I let out a small and playful laugh.