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.
It wasn't every day you took him out as a date. Not when you weren't supposed to be 'that way' from the start.
I think it bothered him sometime's, how close he knew we were getting and how fast it was happening. Last week I'd done such good as to take him a new set of strings for his guitar when he was sick, risking my own health as he'd pointed out.
It never mattered to me, my health. If I wanted to do someting then I did it, no matter the consequences.
Maybe that's what he liked about me, that rough thriller edge that I also used to cover my insecurities.
Other time's I think he likes them because he know's they're just there to hide the insecurities. Maybe that's what it is, knowing I have flaws.
Just like him and how he thinks of his mum and goes quiet atleast once during band practice. It just happens and you can't stop it, I've tried.
"Where are we goin' Len?" He asks, hands flailing out infront of him.
I smile, I've got him blindfolded. "You'll see, now shaddup."
He chuckles. "Yeah, sure. when've I been known fer tha'?"
"Never." I smile, watching him let his arms fall back to his sides.
It's a little chilly out today, is the only problem. That and the slight breeze that sometimes tugs my jacket away from my body and sends an uncomfortable breeze up the only pair of baggy jeans I have. Trust me, it's not comfortable when it's cold in there.
But I ignore it for a little while longer, after all the shops just around the corner.
"John!" He whines. "Jus' tell me!"
"If I tell ye it wont be a surprise, will it?" I ask smiling, he is once again flailing his arms except now he jumps backwards because his hand grazes the cold metal door knob.
"Bloody heII!" He jumps backwards, knocking right into me and sending us crashing to the ground.
"HeII." I laugh, he's wound up ontop of me and is now patting my face.
"John?! Is that you? Am I smacking you on the face?" He laughs, hitting me a little harder each time.
I can only laugh and pull the blindfold off, "Get up."
"Wow!" He gasps and runs right into the store, pulling it right from the display. "You found it!"
I nod and smile, watching from outisde the glass as he plays the thick strings once again. "Love it?"
"Love it." He nods, a huge smile plastered across his face.
I join him in the store, the memory of the day Stu died... It's haunting. Especially because Jim pawned the bass Stu gave Paul when he quit. It was the one thing left we had of him, had of my best mate. The good thing is I spent weeks looking through all of the Pool looking for it and stumbled across it in a store across the city.
"I'll take it." Paul smiled, caressing the body as the man aproached us.
I smiled and quickly stuck the change in the man's hand, "He said he'll take it."
I knew the guy was going to offer higher than the actual price because I'd been there a good four times, each time dressed as someone else to keep suspition low, and each time he offered higher than the last. This time, as I had calculated, it was fifteen pounds. Eight higher than the price Stu and I had bought it at.
"John!" Paul argued. "I can pay-"
"No, Macca, I'm not letting you. If Jim see's I'm going all out like this he'll give me credit and then ye'll be able to stick around longer." It kind of came out sounding wrong if you hadn't been in on the predicament.
"On about that again, yeah?" He's looking up at me with those big doe eyes and all I can wonder is if I'll really survive without him.
I can only force a nod. "Yer not alone John." He's trying to comfort me but he knows it wont work.
"Yeah I am. Dad's gone, then mum and now Stu. Not to mention yer leavin' me too?" My voice cracks.
He shakes his head and sends all his hair falling in his eyes, "I'm not leavin' John. I promise I'll be back."
I can't believe him though, it's three weeks without him. How am I supposed to survive?
So we exit the store and head back over to his house, his house where his brother wont talk to me and his father hates me. His house. The place he calls 'home'.
I try not to hink abotu this image, the one that puts so many people on edge, the one that covers every single one of my flaws. The one that causesso many more flaws, like the feeling that everyone can ''still' see right through this fake me right to the real one. Especially Paul.
Especially when times like now roll around and we're both dead silent and he's just watching me for some sort of reaction. Some sign of life inside this hollow shell.
"Wha' d'you think they're doin' up there?" I ask, lighting a cigarette and puffing at it contently.
He looks away thoughtfully. "Watching over you."
I shake my head, "Stop bein' so optimistic."
"Stop being pessimistic ye cheeky git." He hits my arm playfully, sending chills through me, and takes my ciggie before smoking it to the butt.
The one thing I love about being John, as opposed to being Paul I suppose, is being able to hide these sorts of emotions. Which is what I do. But I do admire that about Paul, letting people see how vulnerable he is. I, even though it doesn't matter too much, think it is one of his more beautiful qualities.
Like his smile. He's got a great smile. Or his laugh, its more of a childish mix of a giggle and a cackle. I, still not that it matters, would do anything to hear it every day of my life.
It's about time by the time we get to his house, and thankfully, its four which means Mike is off for a football game and Jim is still working which is lucky for me but lonely for Paul because he has to clean, make supper, keep me company, and be consistently reminded of that throbbing empty hole where his mum should be. I know how he feels though.
It's strange, when he goes into those trances like now.
How he's standing outside of the house trying to decide whether to go inside or stay outside until his mum comes home, like she used to, and watch the sun set with her.
Its hard to watch him go through things like this but I dont think he realizes that it hurts me to see him like this. I try to keep a solid mask up and show no emotion nowadays.
I think its strangely sweet too, how he wishes he could take all those words back and change them to "I Love You's". He know's he can't though, and that's why he's in a trance like this. Because once you say something, once you do something, and once something's happened, there is no going back.
"We don't have to go in?" I bite the inside of my lip and watch him try to reach for the door knob.
"No, we do." He's trying to keep it together.
"No we don't Paulie," I let it slip and he looks up at me quicker than anything you could imagine. "You don't have to hurt. Let's go to mine."
He only watches me watch him because he know's that it's a bother to both of us when he's like this, when he's hurting inside and not laughing and smiling like he should be.
He should always be laughing and smiling because he deserves nothing less than someone that can make him happy.
I want so badly to be that person.
"Alright? Let's go to mine Paulie. Let's go home." I pat him on the shoulder and he nods.
"Home." There's a little smile. "With John."
"With John." I nod and we turn and walk down the path, he's still entranced.
"Because he's here. He's here. He's livin' and... he cares."
"He cares more than you know Paul." But I only mutter the words so I'm sure only I could hear them.
"Mimi, I'm walkin' Paul 'ome." I call as I pull my jacket on and tuck the Hofner under my arm, waiting for Paul to get out of the loo.
"Behave boys!" She calls from the other room, she know's I might not be home tonight.
She knows because she's known Paul's lost his mum since before I have, since before I cared, and he know's that if I'm a mess he's no better. And he really isnt.
So when he's finally down we head out.
"Let's get a drink, yeah?" He asks with a smile.
I shake my head, "Not tonight."
"Find some birds?" He sounds more questioning about it now than ever before.
I smirk, "Nah, son. Too many'll get to yer head."
"So what got to yers?" He elbows my side and pulls the bass away from me.
I smile and watch him stare straight forward. He's playing a little line of some sweet sounding lovie-dovie pop crap. It's driving me crazy but I know he's still trying to pull together so I'll humor him a little while longer.
At least until we get there because then he's gonna be protecting me from my big fat mouth.
"Da!" He shouts when he finally opens the door.
There's no response, which is good for me and strange for him.
"Looks like it's all ours eh, son?" I ask with a smile as I charge upstairs and into his room, he's close behind and slams right into me knocking us both to the floor.
"Watch it John!" He laughs, grabbing my arm and pinning it above my head.
"'Ey! No fair McCartney!" I'm trying to contain my laughs and pin him down with one arm, it's harder than it seems when he's basically straddling you too. It's easy to say my body took that into dark consideration as well in this compromising position.
He's laughing wildly, that cackling giggle that make's me laugh just from hearing it. "C'mon Len! Quit squirmin'!"
I laugh too, tickling his side with my free as he squirms ontop of me in an effort to try and grab my free hand and pin me to the floor.
The strange thing is it's just when I realize how easy it would be to rotate my hips and pin him down that he leans forward at just the right angle and pins me instead.
His face is in mine and we're both panting and laughing and, at the worst possible time my body takes the moment from me by realizing that he's so damn close I could do anything and get away with it.
I could probably get away with murder, not that I'd planned on it or even done so much as think about it before.
So I squirm, set him off balance, and knock him to the floor, pinning him under my weight.
"Table's 'ave turned, eh Macca?" I ask with a smile.
He nods and laughs, "I feel vulnerable."
"Get used to it, yer a bird." I laugh, getting up and pulling him to his feet.
"Am not!" His voice cracks and he tackles me right into the wall where I easily flip us so he's on his back.
"Yeah, Paulie, ye are." I smile, yet again finding it easy to get away with murder.
But I find, instead, him staring into my eyes like he's found some sort of long lost love. Almost more interestingly I find myself staring back, feeling this strange connection that I wouldn't break for the world.
It's like... It's like some sort of enchantment capturing my soul and taking a peice of it. The enchantment that is Paul.