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.
~Shred

Chapter 3

Some Might Say (I Love This Song!!!! Oasis is AWESOME!!!!)

[Probably the least clean of all chapters for a while.]

He threw his head back, laughing wildly.
I just smiled, watching him laugh. It was strangely cuter than before the other day. Strangely cuter than before I came to senses with Stu's passing. It was comforting now, not just gleeful happiness.
"John!" He laughed and clutched his sides.
I just sat and watched knowing it was all at my own expenses. Who cared if I looked like a bird in public? It's just bright red lip stick and that stuff that turns your eyes blue. What's it called again? Never mind that's not the point.
The point is, we've come to the same conclusion about each other.
It's not that we're attracted to each other because we've experianced the same things, felt the same pain. It's because we needed the comfort, still do really, of having someone that won't leave from the same fear.
Paul is my comfort.
I'm not afraid to say it.
HeII, I'm not afraid to scream it from the highest mountain as loud as possible.
Some might say that I even love him, and in all honesty.
I do.
So sitting here watching him laugh, be it at my expense, comforted me. Not just me but everyone around us because who didn't love hearing a child laugh?
"Am I beautiful?" I batted my eye lashes and leaned in closer to him.
He laughed harder, "Just the word for it Johnny!"
I laughed too and leaned away, downing another pint of lager and ordering more.
"Wha?" He looks at me sullenly suddenly. "More? Thats been, what?" Hiccup. "Four?" Hiccup.
"Five. Drink up son, yer nineteen ye need 'em." I smiled sliding the next round to him and drinking.
"You know, John," Hiccup. "I never told ye the other day," Hiccup. "But I really love ye."
I laughed, not quite sure what to do. That and the beer was cheap and I was starting to get a buzz. So when I stopped laughing and looked at him he was looking at me with teary eyes.
"Oh. Yer serious." I felt a sudden pang of anger at myself. "I love ye too son."
He shook his head. "I ''love'' you John."
"Yeah son, I love you too." I chuckled and wrapped his hands around his beer. "Now drink up, I'm paying."
He shook his head and drank the beer in silence now.
''What could I have possibly said? Now he's off? Does he really mean he loves me? Nah, he couldn't. He was joking surely-''
"Ready to go?" He asks, hand on mine.
"One more round, shots on me." ''I need to be really drunk to understand him apparently.''
He nods and smiles, drooling a little as a waitress with an extremelt short skirt walked by.
I watched him with mild curiousity as to what he saw in them that he didn't see in me. Besides the whole genderal thing but that's just obvious.
She brought us our shots and Paul smiled at her, winking as she turned to walk away, which made her "drop" her pen that she ''had'' to pick up obviously. And let's just say Paul was getting it better tonight than I had been getting in a ''long'' time.
So when he finally turned back to me he looked about to heaven and back, "To birds." He says with a wink.
"To s_x." I correct with a smile before downing the clear liquid.
It burned the whole way down and tasted just a little bit like that cherry syrup they put in Shirley Temples.
I tossed a handful of money onto the table and the two of us stumbled out onto the streets, arms around each others waists to stand upright, or at least that was his intention.
But I smiled, my plan was going great. Not that I wanted him to have a miserable nineteenth to begin with but this way we could both get something out of it, right? Was I using him...?
I smiled and listened as he started singing to himself, and the rest of Liverpool really.
And why not join in if we're both piss drunk already?
"Love like yours is sure to come my way!" He stumbled and dragged us to the ground.
I just laughed and pulled him back to his feet. "C'mon Paulie, back home we venture!"
"Venture forth great gadspeed!" He laughed wildly.
I did too even though it really wasn't funny. I wondered why I was laughing if I still had the sense to get us to our feet. Didn't that mean I was still ''slightly'' sober? Oh well, better than nothing and if anything I'd feel it in the morning for sure.
So finally we stumbled into my apartment and fell into the middle of my bedroom which was only a pile of sheets, a mattress, and a bunch of scattered blank canvaas's.
"John!" Paul shouted from where I'd laid him.
"I'm in the next room, wha's 'e matter?" I smile and kick off my shoes.
Before I know what's happening his breath is warm on my neck. "I got lonely."
"Macca, yer nineteen. I think ye can stay in a room alone fer five min, no?" I don't turn to face him.
"Nope." He's pulling my jacket off for me.
''What's he think he's doin'?'' I can't help but wonder but I don't want it to end after everything that's happened over the past two months. I'd do anything to get him to see it my way again, even if he was piss drunk.
"D'you miss me when I'm studyin'?" His break is hot on my neck and I wonder what he means.
''You don't study. You dropped out. You're piss drunk Paulie.'' "Yeah." I nod and go with it anyway.
"I miss you too." His hands are wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. "I miss you lots."
I shudder at the feeling of him laying his head on my shoulder. "Really?" My voice cracks.
"Mhm." He nuzzles his face into me and I can feel him placing the softest kisses in the world on my neck.
"Show me." I push him away and turn to face him.
I find it somewhat comedic how he simply waggled his eyebrows and turned away, skipping into my room where I heard him trip and land (thank GOD!) right on the bed. Unless he jumped onto it...
But what was I to do? Here he was basically asking for it and I'm standing here locking away everything because he's drunk and won't remember he loves me in the morning.
But I follow him in anyway and find he's balancing a canvaas on his forehead.
"Took ye long enough." He blows on the canvaas and knocks it loudly to the ground.
I raise an eye brow, "Really then?"
He only raises an eye brow suggestively and beacons me closer.
I don't hesitate and crawl into bed with him, "Yeah, luv."
Before I know it he's crushing my lips with his and I can't remember how to breathe. It's like breathing is a foreign language and Paul is native. So, I don't know why I let myself, I kissed him back with all my might and the two of us tumbled right off the bed and onto the floor with a loud ''THUMP!''
I heard him groan but didn't bother to stop, who knew if he'd ever turn to me again, you know?
I tossed a leg over his waist and straddled him, trying to gain dominence but he fought back and knocked me to the ground as I hit my head against the wall.
He broke the kiss and looked at me. "How's yer head?"
I shrugged, "I'm not bleedin'?"
"Nope." He shook his head.
I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into another kiss, pinning him under me by his shoulders and slammed him onto the bed.
He groaned and pulled me closer by the collar of my shirt and unbuttoning each one slowly but with this strange force that almost made me feel like they'd all been undone at once.
Seconds ticked on into minutes when I found that he had gotten my shirt off without me even realizing. And apparently I was working on his.
But that's when I snapped into reality.
We were drunk, this wasn't what he'd really want. Not at all. And I had to watch out for my friend.
So I stopped.
"John?" He pushed lightly on my chest, those bright hazel eyes looking up at me curiously. "Wha's a matter?"
"We're drunk Paul. This isn't what you want." I can't look into his eyes any longer. It might just kill me.
"How d'you know?" He asks sliding out from under me.
I just look down at my hands, they're thick and rough and calioused from years and years of guitar. "I just do."
"No, John, you don't. Yer not me, you don't know." He pulled on my hand and laid it across his cheek. "Trust me."
I look at him finally, he's such a bird sometimes. But I love him. I really do.
"Le's take it slow, yeah?" I lay down next to him, careful not to disturb the eye contact and intimacy of the moment.
He nods and slides closer to me. "Sorry. John."
I shake my head and watch him yawn and doze off to sleep.
It's been a while and I've only watched his eyes flicker open and glance at me from that sleep enduced haze twice. He smirks, smacks his lips, and falls back asleep.
I wonder what lucky bird will be able to call him her's in the future. Someone that'll treat him right hopefully.
You know what some might say?
I'm letting him free.

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