Come To Your Senses ~ John&Paul (Slash)

Come To Your Senses ~ John&Paul (Slash)

This is Beatle John/Paul Slash. It's rough, confusing, complicated and beautiful. It's just how I interpret a relationship and its struggles, it does not prove that John and Paul were really gay or in love (though I could die a happy person if they had come out about it!) but you can believe it too if you want to. Just enjoy and ignore the fact that it's made up. It starts in '61 and you can guess the end.

Chapter 1

Ask Me Why

It was when we really got to know each other, maybe a year after mum died, when I started to wonder what he saw in me, you know?
I mean, I was rough and rugged and ''not'' the most impressive person to be around.
Anyone could see through this tough guy act I put on. In all honesty, the leather was uncomfortable, the jeans were too tight, and the shoes made the same sounds as a woman's high-heels but there was always that little glimer in his big brown doe eyes when he saw me coming.
If he wanted a teddy boy then I could be one, damn it.
"Yer up early." He commented, stepping past me and sitting on the step beside me. "It's not noon yet."
"'Nother nightmare." I lied. I always lied. I just needed a reason to come see him, for him to feel bad for me and wrap a comforting arm around my shoulders.
A reason to make me feel like maybe he felt the same, uncertain but so... sure.
"John," He sighed my name, shivers coursing through me. "You can stay here, Dad's gone off to work and Mike's gone to a mate's for a couple days. Stay here, yeah?"
I nod and pull out a cigarette, another one of my less appealing qualities that he ''also'' didn't seem to mind, and lit up.
"Ye can't do that in the 'ouse so get it all out of yer system now, I'll make yer bed." He patted my shoulder and got up, leaving me in my own smokey-still silence.
''What d'ye see in me Paul? Why d'ye let me stick 'round? Yer dad hates me, yer brother doesn't talk to me, yer my polar opposite. What d'ye see in me?'' I hardly had time to put the cigarette out and get up before he came out in a slight rush.
"Alright?" He asks, calming his large-eyed expression.
I nodded, "What's got ''yer'' knickers in a twist?"
"I-I got worried ye... ye left. Ye were out for a while, usually doesn't take ye that long is all." He walks up the stairs behind me, following the clicking of my shoes as I walk down the hall and into his room, not the room he's made up for me.
I kick my shoes off and begin to undress, pulling my jacket and socks off before partially unbuttoning my shirt and falling backwards onto the bed.
The whole time he'd only stood in the doorway and watched, almost as if he was expecting me to go further.
"Wha? I'm not strippin' if tha's wha' yer gormin' out over." I roll onto my side and press my back up to the wall as he sits across the room from me, as if I suddenly bite, in the corner, back also against the wall.
"Cheeky." He smiles. "Now sleep."
I watch him; expecting him to force me to sleep, but hours pass and all we do is sit in the same positions and maintain our steady eye contact.
"Anyone tell ye ye've got really nice eyes?" He asks finally breaking the silence as I began to doze off.
I nodded, "Only ye'd say somethin' ye poof."
"Am not!-" He shouted.
"Shaddup!" I shout with a laugh. "It's a tease, calm down."
He smiled in revelation and sat back in his place taking to watching me, yet again, as I tried to settle my mind and sleep.
"Why ''me'', John?" He asks as my mind begins to shut down.
I shrug and pull the blanket over me, "Yer the closest."
"Alright." But he knows it's a lie.
Not only is he the farthest but he knows it's because he's the only one that'll care, the only one that'll comfort me, the only one I have an excuse to go see whenever I please.
He's my reason to keep putting up with the daily bull shit and annoyance, my reason to hold on and ignore all the little things. He's my reason to hold on to Julia, to hold on to life and love and still I ask myself, everyday, what does he see in me?
What does he see under all the leather, the rough tough talk and gait? He has to see something I suppose, other wise he wouldn't keep coming back.
"Paul?" I peek my eyes open a little to see him half asleep in the corner, pulling his shirt tight for warmth in the autumn air leaking in through the cracked window.
"Mhm?" He snuggles closer into the corner.
"C'mere." I laugh, opening my eyes and tossing my legs over the side of the bed.
"...Minute." He smacks his lips and begins to snore softly.
I let him quiet down before I pick him up and lay him down in bed, closing the window and pulling the blanket over him.
"J....awwwn?" He's shivering.
"Paul?" I watch him quake in his sleep.
He only nods and stops shivering. I smile and lay as close to the edge of the bed as possible as to not invade his person privacy, I know a strange concept for ''the'' John Lennon, and so he didn't get the wrong conception of us in his mind too soon.
And some how I go all afternoon sitting there and watching him sleep, not drowsy at all and not at all disturbed by the fact that I was basically stalking him in his sleep. Lovely, yeah?
"Sleep tight Paul," I get up and button my shirt, pull my socks and shoes on and toss my jacket over my shoulder. "Ta."
And as I leave, I can swear on Julia's grave, that I heard him say my name.
And when I pull the front door of the house closed, tugging my jacket on, I can feel the strings around my heart, the guitar strings really, pull and tighten around my heart leaving a rough burn where calious's might form someday. Maybe.
And why do I feel this way?
I think I love him...
Do me a favour?
Don't ask me why.

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