The Night Before [McLennon]

Chapter 1

November 7th, 1966

John's Point of View

It was a chilly November night, it was too cold for us to do anything else; so we stayed in our flat for the night. We could've easily gone out with the guys, but Paul was as moody as a girl during mensuration. It most likely had something to do with Jim, I call him Mr. McCartney, or Paul's father. He had gotten into an argument with the lad all because of me. The least I could do is skip hanging out around the town and spend the night with my love.

I wrapped my arms tight around him, and soothingly rubbed his shoulders. He was really tense. I gently kissed the top of his head as well, and told him I loved him. I wasn't one much for cuddling, but by the looks of it; he needed it. I moved my hand down to intertwine our fingers, but I couldn't get comfortable. He laughed at me and sat up some, putting his head on my shoulder. "You an awkward affectionate?"

"No, I just don't know how to properly cuddle..."

He laughed again, it was adorable, and he snugly put his arms around my waist. Then he curled his legs up on my lap and pushed his face into my chest. Instinctively I hugged him close, and gently ran my fingers through his hair. He fell asleep like that.

He only brought the fight up in passing and even looked uncomfortable when he did that. It did though, happen because he found out that his son and I were together. I felt bad for him. It doesn't make any sense to me why anyone would judge a bloke like me. Love shouldn't be shamed, it shouldn't be something you're ashamed of either. I'm famous anyroad, and I'd love to speak out and tell all the other's like me that it's okay. My aunt Mimi doesn't care as long as I am happy. And I am. Happier than I have been in a while actually. I love Paul.

"Darling?" I spoke up just as I felt his breathing start to even out. I couldn't help but start thinking. Maybe Paul doesn't even want me? We keep our relationship hidden from everyone, even our best mates, who I know wouldn't tell. It just scared me that though, especially after what happened.

~•~

I knocked on Jim McCartney's door, expecting to see a man who was happy to see his son. Instead, I felt like I'd just taken a blow to the face when his deep and gravelly voice boomed in my ears. "What is 'e doing here?" The man almost spit as he held his stare with his son, but had his index finger pointing at me. His hands seemed as if they were shaking with anger. "I wanted to see my son. Not my son and..." His voice stopped suddenly and he straightened up from how he was standing slouched against the door way. "Him!" He threw his arms up, making me jump back.

"Father," Paul sighed and fiddled with his bracelet like he always did when he was nervous. "You need to understand something." He paused to wipe something from his lip, using his middle finger. That had become another habit for him, touching his face with his middle finger. It was slightly adorable. "I love John. You can't stop me from doing that."

"Can I talk to you inside?"

Paul nodded and I felt his slender fingers clasp around mine. His hands were gentle, warm, and I loved it. His skin was so soft, mine was a bit rougher. But it didn't last long before I heard his father snap again.

"James! Alone!"

The warmth of his hand soon left mind and he was pulled inside. The door was slammed in my face and all I could do was stand there dumbfounded.

~•~

"Yes?" Paul's voice was sleepy and cute, and he looked up at me from where he had fallen asleep on my chest. He had moved slightly now though, his arms were crossed over his stomach and his feet were propped up against the end of the couch. His hair was all discombobulated as well, and I ran my fingers through it to try and even it out.