Pointless McSutcliffe

One Shot - Invisible Man

Paul learned a lot about Stuart, just looking at him from afar.

He was quiet, reserved, unasuming. He dressed in all black and liked to blend in with the backgrounds, but he also enjoyed attention, in small doses.

He liked it when pretty birds fluttered their eyelashes at him, when handsome lads spared him a wink or a smile.

He was brilliant, head bursting with ideas, heart bursting with emotion, but no one would actually listen to what he had to say.

He was invisible, and walked on a fine line between enjoying and despising that particular condition of his.

***

Paul felt like he didn't fit in his world.

Stuart liked art museums and empty classrooms and dark studios. He listened to jazz and inhaled frankincense and oil paint. He preferred coffee over alcohol, and didn't care much for spotlights.

Paul's whole life was in a stage, and he couldn't imagine it any other way. Music was like oxygen for him, and weed and beer were his fuel.

For someone on the Toppermost of the Poppermost, the Biggest Thing out there, obsessing over some unknown artist was... Odd, to say the very least.

But Paul had adored the man since they were young dumb teenagers, he had obsessed over his delicate frame and skilled hands, had yearned for him and simply hadn't stopped.

Not even now, at the top of the world, with more fame than he knew what to do with, more women than he'd ever desired, more *anything* than he ever thought he could have.

All Paul wanted was an invisible man who was unaware of his affections. How pathetic.

***

Approaching him felt impossible.

It was quite ridiculous, honestly. But that thought didn't ease his mind at all.

Some part of him wanted to run away before he embarassed himself, wanted to push down his feelings even further, to keep them under lock and key forever and ever... But he couldn't. Not anymore, not ever again.

It had been six years that felt like a thousand. Enough was enough.

***

'...may I help you?'

'I... Are you Stuart Sutcliffe?'

'Indeed, that's me'

'M-my name is Paul McCartney... I'vebeeninlovewithyousinceIwassixteen!'

'H-huh?!'

'I'm sorry! I, I should leave now, I have to-'

'Please do come in'

***

Stuart's small home was filled to the brim with odd art pieces and trinkets.

Everything, from furniture to appliances to the structure of the property itself, seemed a bit old, but in a nice way. Comfortably lived in.

It was a huge contrast to Paul's own house, fancy and shiny and new, and as empty as his heart.

The invisible man poured him a cup of tea and attentively listened to Paul's lovesick diatribe, not interrupting him once, merely nodding along.

He'd never been this close to him, and while Paul thought he would be nervous, he found Stuart's presence... rather calming, instead.

Once he was done pouring out his sorrow, the man offered him a timid smile, almost apologetic. He was going to reject him, Paul could feel it, and it made him want to disappear.

In just a few minutes, some stupid and sentimental part of Paul's subconsciousness had already planned a whole lifetime of them together, hiding away from the world in this small house. A safe haven from the burden fame had became, in Stuart's arms.

But life didn't worked like that, and of course he would reject him, he should've kept quiet, he should've never come here, what was he even thinking?

Stuart kissed him.

Gently so, just a brush of lips that was gone in a blink.

Both stared at each others in stunned silence, and then he did it again. Harder this time, more passionate.

Paul stayed the night.

***

Heyyyyy... Just wanted to say thanks to all of you for actually reading and voting on this random assortment of thoughts and stories, I never thought anyone would particularly care about this pairing or my writings, but what do you know, this became number 1 in the stuartsutcliffe tag!

So yes, thank you very much to y'all, see you soon with some more McSutcliffe content 💕✨