Paul & John

[Chapter Seventeen - Caught]

--- J O H N ---

             They sat in Paul's room, the ceiling fan hitting the area in a cool breeze to tickle their skin so they'd awaken from their tired somber. Even though Jim had kicked Paul out of the house for the billionth time, he always called his son back to the residency; so he can hold him hostage until Paul was eighteen.

    "Got any song ideas?" Paul asked as he fiddled with the sixth string on his bass guitar. John toyed with a pencil, licking his lips out of boredom. Alright, let's face it: Paul's house was pretty boring.

   "I got one." John replied. "I wrote it after I got sucked on by a bird named Marie."

  Paul chuckled. "Is tha' all you care about? Sex?"

"Pretty much, yeah." John sat up from the bed and stretched. He then dug into his pockets of the leather jacket he wore and handed the chubby lad his song idea.

"You are an animal John!" Paul replied, taking the paper from him as he read the lyrics. The song was called Bad to Me.

John snickered. "That's what she said after I came into 'er mouth."

Paul grimaced, continuing to read the lyrics. He then smiled, satisfied with John's work.

   "What do you think?" John asked. He took out a cigarette and lit it with a match. He then inhaled the nicotine-product and exhaled the smoke tendrils out of his mouth.

   Paul nodded, "I like it." he refolded the paper and handed his friend back the object in his hand.

    John took it, his eyes fixated on Paul's hazel eyes. He took out the cigarette and tossed it on the floor; his stare never leaving Paul.

    Paul felt the magnetic hold too, and with this force, he leaned forward; getting a better look at John's chocolate-brown orbs.

    John moved closer, as did Paul.

Then their lips connected.

    And there was no backing out this time.

---

--- P A U L ---

                      John's lips tasted of cigarette and cool mint. It was intoxicating, almost too much for the chubby lad to handle. With his thin lips connecting with Paul's, Paul felt his friend slither his tongue into his mouth; the flavor of cigarette, cool mint and red lipstick to intertwine with his tastebuds. Paul was loving this, even if he tasted women's make-up on John's lips.

John began to hover over Paul, his body eclipsing the light that was below the spinning fan. He trailed his lips to Paul's neck, nipping at his friend's skin, a moan escaping the younger lad's mouth.

     Before John could travel further down from his neck, the door flew open. Both boys sat up from their activity; hearts stopping from their regular beating rhythm.

     "You're a fucking queer, too?" Jim shook his head, scoffing as he closed the door.

    Paul gulped. He was going to get it tonight. John knew that frightened look. Instead of leaving abruptly, he placed a gentle kiss on Paul's forehead.

    "It's okay."

"You should probably go," Paul said. John nodded, then grabbed his guitar and exited Paul's room through the window.

And just like that, he was gone.

And Paul was alone.

---

[Author's Note:
This chapter is like a 'what the fuck did I just write?!' type thing. I know it sucks. If you think it's good, comment on what you think.

Thank you for the support on this story. I love you all.

Vote & comment.

- Valerie.]