Take a sad song and make it better

Chapter Thirty

John and Paul were over the moon when they finally made their way back to their flat - with a few detours to a few pubs, they were celebrating after all - much later that night, although a great deal of that over the top excitement was due to the excessive amounts of alcohol in their systems.

"We bloody well did it, Paulie!" John whooped as he stumbled over the threshold, his normally guarded eyes were wide with excitement as he pulled Paul into his arms in a bone crushing embrace.

Paul winced as John's outburst rang about the room, just waiting for Mary to wake up in a fright before he remembered that the little girl was staying at her Grandfather's house that night.

Paul returned John's embrace, his hands fisting in the back of John's jacket.

"This is it, Paul, this is the beginning! We're on our way to the topper most -"

"Of the popper most, Johnny!" Paul finished for him before forcing John's lips against his in a heated kiss.

John relaxed into Paul, his hand moving up to cradle Paul's chin in the loving way that only Paul could coax out of him.

Suddenly, Paul pulled away with a worried expression falling over his face.

"But John... What about this? Us? And Mary! Brian hasn't a bloody clue what he's getting himself into with us!" Paul moaned morosely.

John let out an amused snort.

"I don't think we need to worry about us," He said cryptically, his eyes dancing.

"Mr. Brian Epstein is as queer as they come, I'm practically blind and I could see from a mile away!" He reassured, biting his bottom lip as he struggled to hold in a fit of giggles.

Paul's raised one perfectly curved brow, he hadn't noticed anything particularly telling about Mr. Epstein's personal... preferences... Although he had been a touch preoccupied trying to stop his heart beating out of his chest from nerves and excitement at the time. And truth be told he wasn't really looking for any clues as to whether he liked Dick or Pussy.

"But what about Mary?" Paul wondered, watching as John flopped down onto the tiny sofa that they had managed to snag for free. Only John could make flopping onto a sofa drunk look good.

John didn't bother to even open his eyes, he just raised on hand and crooked his finger in a come hither motion. Paul's feet seemed to move without any permission from his brain and before he knew it he was standing over John's lounging form.

John reached up and grasped the neck of Paul's t-shirt, effectively pulling paul's head closer to his own.

"Do me a favour love and shush your lips." He murmured sternly before pulling paul completely on top of him.

Paul let out a surprised squeak as he tumbled down against the older Man.

"You're not being quiet Paul." John scowled.

"Why don't you make me quiet then?" Paul cooed, looking up at John through his long lashes. John growled deep in his throat before he sat up quickly, forcing Paul's legs to wrap around his waist while sitting on John's lap.

"I'll make you quiet alright." He hissed into Paul's ear, his lips touching Paul's temple.

Paul tried to rut against John's hard body but gasped when John's strong arms held Paul's body closer to his own, his hands reaching around to grip Paul's bum tightly as he stood up.

"John! Put me down!" Paul cried, holding onto John's neck and shoulders for dear life.

"I suggest you stop talking," John said menacingly, his rough hands squeezing Paul's bum harder.