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Chapter 23

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Part twenty three

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It was a familiar scene in the more run-down part of Liverpool, one that Mimi would greatly disapprove of if she saw what her 'innocent' little Johnny usually got into.

All around him were the sounds of clinking glass and a low murmur of many voices, none of which he really recognized. His drink sloshed around as he moved it back and forth across the bar, sighing in boredom.

Today he would have rather been 'composing' with Paul, he had even waited until today to ask to see him because he knew no one would be in the McCartney household. But, if his dark haired lover would rather meet at some boring shithole of a bar, then so be it.

He'd made sure to get here just a little bit later than what was planned, and still yet Paul hadn't shown up. That should have been his first sign that something was up.

Well, no.

The first sign should have been when Paul called him with a nervous and shaky voice, changing the place of their rendezvous.

John now sat idly at the barstool, calmly taking sips from his pint and sizing up the girl behind the bar. A leggy brunette with a nice pair of tits and high cheekbones, a little bit too much makeup caking her face, though. If it came down to it, she would be an alright lay, John figured.

He tapped his fingers absentmindedly and played around with a couple lyrics in his mind, really feeling like they would make a decent song when his thoughts suddenly were interrupted.

"Wanna another pint? On the house, that is." The barkeep asked, trying to sound suggestive but casual at the same time.

She leaned across the bar when she passed it over to him, smiling slightly. John nodded at her politely, watching the door in case Paul were to show up soon.

"Ta." He said quietly, deciding after quite an internal struggle that it was best to just wait it out, McCartney would show up eventually.

And, as always, he was right. With a timid tap to his shoulder, Paul caught John's attention, rocking back on his heels a little.

"Oh, hey." John said quietly, feeling almost startled by the touch.

He spun around in his seat, being greeted by the sight of Paul in a pair of faded jeans and a worn-out jumper. It was odd, since usually he wouldn't even think about going out of the house dressed like that. Even though John usually did dress more casually, it was unlikely that Paul would.

John blinked a couple times, his vision poor without his specs and a unsettling feeling in his gut.

"'Ave problems with your da' again?" He guessed, the words unsure and clumsy coming from his tongue-tied mouth.

Paul shrugged noncommittally, his hazel eyes portraying a unmistakable look of sadness which he hid quickly, forcing a more content expression onto his face.

"Lets go sit in the back, yeah? It's too bloody crowded up here." Paul murmured, tugging on John's sleeve slightly.

John looked around the place, feeling the urge to decline the suggestion considering the bar was actually quite empty. But Paul seemed so insisting, pleading silently with his eyes alone, causing John to eventually give in and stand up as well. They walked quietly to the back room of the bar, taking a seat at one of the booths, sitting next to each other instead of one on each side.

John was grateful for the privacy, taking advantage of it and kissing Paul's cheek softly, mumbling "I've missed ye..".

He felt the younger lad tense up and nearly move away, but didn't say anything about it, afraid it would start a row.