The Less I Know The Better [complete]

43 ;; George's house

On Friday morning, John woke up feeling pretty good.
The past two days had passed relatively eventlessly; he lazed about at home, for the most part, wanting nothing more than to go out and do things instead of being shut up at home, but Mimi flat out refused to let him go until she considered him to be alright. Thankfully, the days passed quickly and she let him go to school on Friday (which, normally he might have used his injuries as an excuse not to go if not for the fact that he wanted to see his three friends, most especially Paul) so he set out, taking the bus instead of walking, dressed up to fight the mid January cold - and also, he didn't really feel like dodging questions from teachers or other students about the multitude of bruises, so he decided to cover up as much of it as he possibly could. Paul, George and Ringo got onto the bus alongside him, from their respective stops, and Paul instantly dove for the seat next to him while George and Ringo sat in front, twisting around in the chairs in order to talk to them better. John was glad to see them, happy that things were slowly returning to normal, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling half the time; especially when Paul sent him secret glances when he thought he didn't notice, and his sudden inability to stop himself from touching him somehow - whether it be his fingers skittering along his arm or sitting close enough for their shoulders and thighs to touch, or brushing his knuckles along the small of his back, basically trying to get away with touching him as much as he could without raising suspicion. It made John feel more cherished and loved than he could ever put into proper words. He found that he couldn't really tear his eyes away from Paul, either.

"I don't know if I'll be able to see Kevin and his goon's faces without bashin' them in," George remarked rather darkly as the bus slowed to a stop at an intersection; he was sitting in a strange position, cross-legged but facing John and Paul behind the chair, arms wrapped around the back and cheek pressed up against the worn out grey leather, making his face look a bit squished, and also subsequently making it hard for John not to burst out laughing, despite feeling touched by his words.

"While I thank you for your chivalry, sir Georgie, I think they won't take you very seriously if you look like that," John snorted, grinning in pride when Paul and Ringo eyed George's position and dissolved into giggles.

"I don't care." He mumbled into the leather. "I'll make them take me seriously."

"Me too," Ringo promised. "They'll look like banana peels when I'm done with them."

Paul frowned. "You're gonna take all their organs out and leave their skin?!" He exclaimed in horror. John began to laugh loudly as Ringo's eyes widened, obviously not really having meant that literally.

"No, I meant like squished on the concrete, not fucking skinning them alive, Paul! Jesus," He retorted in disgust. When he and Paul noticed John and George guffawing at them, though, they dissolved into raucous laughter too, not caring about the weird looks the other bus passengers gave them in return.

Only a minute later, when they'd finally managed to calm down without looking at each other and setting themselves off again, they arrived at their stop and hurriedly scrambled to get out - John wincing and accidentally biting down hard on his tongue when some other student elbowed him in the ribs in midst of their clamouring, sending Paul a tight smile when he gripped his arm and sent him a worried, questioning look - and emerging onto the street. The outside of the school was already teeming with students all rushing in, their noisy, mindless chatter rather disorienting after John had spent pretty much the whole week at home in silence; but it wasn't entirely bad. They made their way through the front gates and into the grounds, and he knew they all were looking out for the same thing - Kevin and his mates. And, as it turned out, they needn't have waited long. They were gathered in a large, obnoxious group, laughing about something or another; as if he had somehow sensed their looks, Kevin had looked up to meet their gazes. Nothing happened, really - they just stared at each other, John glaring back with as much loathing and dislike as he could muster. After a while, it almost seemed like something had passed between them, and the auburn-haired boy started to walk away, feeling rather content with himself. He spun around on his heel to meet his friends' curious eyes, and he smiled softly at them.