The Less I Know The Better [complete]

18 ;; confessions

"Aye, John."

"Ringo, my commandant! What should I tell the troops?"
Rusting metal glinted in pale sunlight as John twirled his lock around his finger, leaning against his dented locker and grinning at his friend; the shorter boy just rolled his eyes, used to his jest, instead shoving his hands in his pockets and falling against the locker next to his, watching the auburn-haired boy return to rummaging through it.

"That 'm bored."

"I think we all are at this point." John agreed, letting out a sigh. Attending science was not exactly one of his top priorities. "You know where Dracula and Elvis knockoff are?"

Ringo let out a faint chuckle at the nicknames before shaking his head. "No, not really. We hung out at the start of school, but you weren't there-"

"I slept in. Detention next week for it." He interrupted, glancing at his friend with a 'duh' expression before slamming his locker shut. "D'you expect any different?"

"Not really."
Ringo smiled fondly, nudging his shoulder. "Now, d'you wanna ditch? Or is science suddenly lookin' good to ya?"

John paused for a moment, about to reply; though was cut off when a familiar pair walked up to them. He lifted his eyes to meet theirs, cursing under his breath when he locked eyes with a half-smiling Paul and his cheeks grew pathetically warm in response. Off to a great start, aren't we? He thought with an inward grown, turning his attention to his suddenly interesting shoes.

"What are you girls gossiping about?" George questioned with a grin, giggling a little when Ringo shoved him playfully in response.

"Wanna ditch? We can go to the record shop."

John wasn't really listening. It had been nearly two weeks since he'd last hung out with Paul outside of school, and he'd felt strangely empty for the entire time without his presence. He'd spent almost every waking moment thinking about him since then, unable to stop no matter what he'd do. It was insanely frustrating at that point. He was just some kid who - until recently - he'd disliked! He had no right to take up all of his brain space every hour of the day. He'd never thought about someone this much, maybe a few girls he'd been with in the past, but this seemed to be on another level. It was just annoying.
Especially when he knew that Paul probably wasn't even thinking twice on him. That's what made it all the worse.
Forcing himself from his thoughts, he turned back to Paul and threw an arm around his shoulders him with one of his snarky grins, guiding him away as they trailed after George and Ringo - who were chattering on about something or other.

"How's it in McCartney land, eh?" He let go of him; not without flicking him in the face as he did so, garnering a somewhat amused but annoyed reaction from the other as he shoved him away with a grin before shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Alright. You?" Paul turned to look at him with a friendly glint in his eyes. It was a strange sight to John to behold, as he was used to piercing glares and clenched teeth directed his way. It made his stomach flutter excitedly.

"Thinkin' about what next rock 'n' roll record I can steal." He proclaimed.

"Oh, god, don't." The raven-haired boy groaned. "What if it goes wrong?"

"What? Little Macca scared of the big bad record shop worker?" John teased, flicking his nose; Paul shrunk away with a glare - but it seemed he'd gotten an idea, as a mischievous grin spread across his face, and he instead poked his own aquiline nose in retaliation. With that, a strange nose-flicking fight began and Paul took off after John down the street outside their school, passing George and Ringo and continuing on (John continually threw "Can't catch me, Sherlock Holmes!" over his shoulder as they ran, causing Paul to laugh).