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It was a frosty night.
Ice scattered the isolated streets of Liverpool whilst the wind howled.
Luckily, best friend’s, John and Paul, were surrounded by the warmth of Johns’ small, but cosy bedroom.
John was being nosey as he looked out of his bedroom window, “Christ, Macca.. Do you think it might snow soon?”
There was a hint of excitement due to John’s undeniable love for snow. It was probably because of how rare the type of weather was in England. The country was usually either rainy or windy, no in between.
Paul smiled with slight adoration sparkling in his eyes. He couldn’t help it, John was adorable, even if he was a teddy boy.
“Aye, possibly,” Paul told his friend, wanting to make the other happy.
John turned his gaze from his window and over to Paul, who was lounged on his single-bed.
John seemed pleased with the answer, giving a smile so big and bright, that it dimmed the sun in comparison.
His gelled-hairstyle bounced as he walked over to Paul; the smile never leaving his face.
When in front of Macca, he pushed him gently, ”Move up, big arse..I wanna sit down.”
Paul complied, shifting to make room before he murmured a quick response, “Not as big as your arse.”
John felt his face flush, even though it was only a teasing joke.
He sat down next to Paul, making himself comfy on the bed.
The two sat in silence for a few minutes, indulging in the soft wind that could be heard from outside.
It was nice.
It was always nice for them to both just sit next to each other and do nothing in particular.
Music played evidently in the background, a song both of them didn’t recognise.
The quietness was soon broken when John let out a small sigh, facial expressions exposing that he was thinking about something.. Actually,contemplating.
Paul’s brows furrowed, “What’s up,Johnny?”
Said man looked down at his lap, deciding that it was more interesting than anything else. Paul knew not to force John into talking so he just waited.
“I..” he started before stopping, head tilting up to look at Paul’s flawless face.
The other had an encouraging look across his face, waiting patiently for John to finish his sentence.
“I.. I need to tell you something, Macca.”
Both his eyes and voice exposed the underlying fear he was feeling. This confused Paul immensely. He was so used to John being open with him.After all, they were meant to know everything about each other..
“Are you okay? You can tell me anything, you know that,” Paul assured.
John sucked in a deep breath before he started explaining what was on his mind.
“Please don’t hate me, Paulie-“
Paul immediately cut him off, annoyed that John would even think like that, ”You’re me best mate, Johnny. I would never hate you.”
He nodded slowly, it was obvious he didn’t exactly believe the words Paul told him.
“Just.. Just hear me out before you judge me, okay? I know you said you won’t hate me but just please.. Please stick to your words,” he pleaded, tears gathering in his brown eyes.
McCartney nodded his head, muttering a promise.
John took another deep breath, hands shaking in his lap. He wetted his lips, throat feeling dry and hoarse.
“Remember when me, you and our other mates would go to that pub every Saturday.. You would often try to get me with a girl,” he began.
Paul was addled, not at all knowing where this conversation was leading to.
“Aye.. Like when I tried to get you to sleep with Cynthia Powell.”
John nodded, biting his lip anxiously before he carried on.
“Well, as you know, I always rejected the girls. I know it always confused you but.. But the reason why I would reject them is because-“
Because..
“Because?” Paul repeated.
“Because I’m gay, Paul. I’m one of those queers.”
Paul paused for a minute before he let out a loud laugh, as though this was all just a big joke. His laughter spread around the room and usually, it was a sound John loved hearing but right now, it felt insulting.
His cackle soon died-down when he realised that John wasn’t finding any humour in the situation.
“Christ, that’s funny! I thought you were being serious for a moment but I know you ain’t a fairy.”
John let out a soft sob, getting off of the bed in a hurry.
“Why won’t you realise I’m not joking around?” he whisper-shouted, not wanting Mimi to wake up due to them being loud.
John wiped his face when he felt tears begin to fall.
This was the end of their friendship, he knew it.
“Why would I say I’m something that’s illegal? Something that’s frowned upon. I’m a homo, Paul. I like men,” he cried, heart breaking in his chest as he spoke the words he had always kept a secret.
Paul’s mouth kept opening and closing in shock while his face drained colour.
He was disgusted.
And it broke John.
“But-but what about them women we used to talk about in them magazines? I thought you liked ‘em. You can’t be queer!” Paul told him, denying it himself.
More tears flowed out of John’s eyes, feeling disappointed at himself for telling his friend. He should’ve just basked in the comforting silence, instead of ruining it by exposing his secret.
“I said I liked the women because I thought that’s what every man is supposed to do.. Paul, why can’t you accept that I like men? What’s the big deal?”
Paul stood up off of the bed, an obnoxious look clear all over his face, ”You’re a man, John! I’m not sure if you’ve realised yet but men can’t like other men. It’s disgusting and wrong.”
John let more cries fall out of his mouth as his best friends’ words sinked into his brain.
His body felt numb.
Both teenagers didn’t speak for a while, the hum of the radio still playing along with the rapid wind outside.
Lennon swallowed, feeling as though there was a lump stuck in his throat.
“What about that promise? You promised me that you’d never hate me,” he whispered, recalling what Paul had told him moments before his confession.
Paul looked guilty for a split second, fists clenched to his side.
“Well.. That was before I found out that you’re one of those fairies,” he spat back, venom dripping in his tone.
John sniffled, his heart burning with sadness.
“I think.. I think maybe it’s best if we don’t speak for a while,” Paul explained, looking away from John’s broken expression.
“Please, Paul,” he begged, “Please don’t do this to me. What will I do? I promise that I’ll never mention being gay again.. You’ll probably forget in a few days and it’ll go back to normal. We’ll go back to normal.”
He begged and pleaded, the thought of losing his best friend seemed to be agonising.
Paul felt furious at himself.
Why was he being so cruel?
He desperately wanted to apologise to John. To tell him how it doesn’t matter but he just can’t. It’s probably because of everything he’s heard from Jim (his dad) about how queers are sinners and all that.
“I can’t just forget that you’re a fag overnight, John.”
It took a while before John slowly nodded, accepting the fact that Paul just doesn’t want to be around him anymore and there’s nothing he can do about it.
“I should go,” Paul murmured, already walking to the bedroom door.
Just as he opened it to leave, the eldest out of them both mumbled a quick, “I’ll miss you, Macca.”
Paul ignored the comment and left the bedroom, though his heart clenched painfully.
He then left the house, leaving John alone in his bedroom to cry.
John tried to be quiet but he couldn’t. His whole body was aching.
It wasn’t long before Mimi came into his bedroom, only to be met with the site of her ‘tough’ nephew, choking on his sobs.
“Oh, John,”she pitied, opening her arms for him to go into.
Though they weren’t exactly close, that night was the first night they finally understood each other. Mimi felt so bad for John, knowing how hard this must be on him.
Being gay and losing his best friend.
She stroked his hair, noticing how his gasps were getting quieter and quieter as he fell to sleep.
….
Like Paul told him, they stayed away from each other.
It hurt both of them, especially to see the other around college. They had never fought like this.
Ringo and George could tell something had happened, particularly when John no longer hung out with them.
“What ‘appened?” George asked, watching how Paul longingly looked at John, who was sat a few tables away from them.
McCartney snapped his eyes over to the youngest, a scowl clouding his face.
“None of your business.”
He then turned back to look at John, who was sat with Cynthia Powell and Pattie Boyd.
The day after their fight, John didn’t turn up to college. Actually, he didn’t come in for a full week and Paul debated to go and check on him. Finally,he turned up to college and unlike his usual teddy boy style, he had changed.
His hair wasn’t jelled as usual, instead it was more flatter against his head. His clothes weren’t the typical teddy boy clothes as they used to be. Instead, they appeared to be more casual, as he wore a jumper. His face looked tired, almost paranoid as he scanned everyone in the school.
He probably thought Paul had exposed his secret or something.
John started to hang out with girls. In the beginning, Paul was trying to work out whether or not, John was pretending to be interested in them. But a few days later, after George spoke to Pattie (the girl he had a crush on), he found out that John had no romantic intent at all and just decided to hang out with them.
When John and Paul would make eye contact, it was awful.
John always looked worried.
“You don’t think he’s queer, do ya?I mean, he is ‘anging about with girls.. Most queers do,”Ringo suggested to his mates.
Paul leaned close to Richard’s ear, making sure only he can hear what he was about to say, ”It’s none of your god damn business if he’s queer or not. Don’t you fucking dare call him a queer.”
Ringo looked taken-back, nodding at what Paul had just said while he decided to stay quiet.
Ever since their argument, Paul just wasn’t the same and George/Ringo were beginning to catch on.
For the rest of their dinner break, none of them mentioned or looked at John, preferring to talk about Pattie and George.
When the break ended, they all went to their classes.
Unluckily, Paul’s last class was with John.
He really couldn’t help but observe John, watching as he sketched something in his book.
Paul watched how concentrated he was, tongue occasionally darting out to lick over his lips.
McCartney couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to kiss those lips.
Would John let him since he’s queer?
Does John have a crush on Paul?
They were extremely close and since John likes men, he must’ve thought about Paul in a romantic way, right?
The thought made Paul blush and shake his head, angry at himself for thinking like that.
But it just seems that these types of thoughts don’t stop.
Paul spends the next few days watching John, in class and at dinner time.
Thoughts of:
‘Did he always look this beautiful?’
‘Would he kiss Paul?’
‘Since he likes dick, would he suck Paul off?’
The last thought was always something he felt embarrassed for.. He can’t think of his friend like that at all!
Just because John’s gay, doesn’t mean Paul is.
He likes women.
He loves women’s breasts, their sweet perfume and their soft voices.
But then there’s John..
The man he has always felt happy around.
Christ..
Paul tossed and turned on his bed, not being able to sleep. The time was early in the morning as snow dropped down from outside.
He smiled to himself, knowing how happy John will feel seeing the snow. The smile quickly dropped when he realised how he won’t get to witness the happiness.
He really has fucked up.
Getting up off of his bed, Paul reached out to grab a coat and some shoes. He put them on before leaving his bedroom, making sure to be quiet so he won’t wake Mick or Jim up.
Paul then grabbed his keys and left, making sure to lock the front door.
He started to walk to John’s house, shivering slightly as the snow dropped down onto him, clinging onto his hair. It didn’t take long to get to the others house due to it being close to his own house.
Standing in front of it felt weird, especially since the last time he was here, was the day he was horrible to John.
Sighing, Paul walked up to the door and knocked.
It took a while before he could see the faint light of the hallway light turn on, through the glass panelling on the door.
Mimi unlocked the door and opened it, surprised to be faced with Paul.
“Can I help you, Paul?” she asked, a slight glare pointed at him.
He gulped, ”I-I..I want to talk to John, please. I have some apologising to do.”
“You definitely do.”
She let him in, her glare never faltering though.
He took off his shoes and just as he was about to go upstairs, Mimi stopped him by gripping his arm.
“If you hurt him again, I will know, son. This time, I won’t be so kind either.”
Paul bit his lip and nodded, guilt seeping through his veins.
“I wont hurt him, ma’am,” he promised, this promise was genuine.
She just scoffed and let go of his arm, allowing him to go up the narrow steps.
When he was stood in front of John’s bedroom door, he gulped before knocking.
John opened the door, obviously expecting it to be Mimi but to his surprise, there stood Paul.
Looking as handsome as ever.
He had snow in his hair and his checks were flushed from the harsh cold.
“Erm.. Macc - I mean Paul. What are you doing ‘ere?” he tried to keep his voice strong and confident, but he found himself failing as it cracked pathetically.
“I-We need to talk.”
John bit his lip, almost making it bleed, before he allowed Paul into his room.
His room hadn’t changed since Paul was last there, the only difference was the photo of them both together was no longer sat on his desk.
It was no surprise after the way he treated John.
John sat on his bed, signalling for Paul to come and join him.
It was silent again, this time, it wasn’t comforting or warm.
It felt awful.
“I’m sorry,” they both murmured in unison, all of a sudden.
After speaking at the same time, they both looked at each other with confusion, as though the other shouldn’t be apologising.
John spoke again, ”I’m sorry for telling you that I’m queer. I shouldn’t have done it.”
Paul felt sick, realising how he caused this insecurity.
Without thinking, he reached over and grabbed John’s warm hand into his own cold one. He knew he shouldn’t have done it but he couldn’t help it.
“No, John.I’m sorry. I promised that I would never hate you yet there I was, calling you disgusting. It’s just, I’ve never met a fair..homo before. I’ve only ever heard things that me Dad ‘as said. I’m proud of you for telling me. It’s not a big deal to me if you like a bit of cock,” Paul explained.
John laughed softly, “Christ,did you ‘ave to put it like that? ‘If you like a bit of cock’.”
Paul joined in, laughing himself.
“Well you do, don’t ya?”
John rolled his eyes before letting out a hum of agreement, “You could say that.”
There was that silence again, this time, it was lacking the overwhelming tension.
“I really did miss you, Macca,” John squeezed his hand, “Hanging out with Pattie and Cyn was nice but it’s not the same as hanging out with you.”
Paul nodded, feeling the same.
“I missed you too. I’m so sorry, Johnny. I really am.”
John smiled at him, telling him how it’s fine because a lot of people react the same way. It’s just how homophobia is in the 50’s.
“Can I ‘ave a hug? It’s been a while and I’m freezing me tits off,” Paul asked, letting go of the others’ hand, despite not wanting to.
“Of course you can.”
He then opened his arms and Paul wrapped himself around John, both leaning back onto the bed.
The snow was audible as it heavily dropped onto the pavement.
“Have you got a boyfriend, Johnny?” he questioned, wiggling his eyes brows when John looked at him.
John blushed and shook his head, ”Nahh,it’s not exactly easy to date when you’re gay.”
Fair enough.
They both relaxed in each other’s hold, breathing calmly. It was the most peaceful, they’ve felt in weeks.
John was slowly dropping to sleep, feeling safe and secure in Paul’s arms.
“Johnny?”
He hummed in reply, too exhausted to speak words.
“Would you.. Would ever date me?”
It seemed that the moment Paul asked that, all the tiredness left John’s body. He blushed, grateful that the room was dark.
“You’re me mate, Paul,” he reasoned, wanting to drop the conversation and just go to sleep.
“Yeah but,” McCartney sat up, causing John to loosen his hold, “Say if I was queer and I asked you out, what would you say?”
“Paul, stop pissing about.”
But it seemed that Paul wasn’t happy with that answer.
“Yeah but what would you do? I’m being serious.”
When John realised that Paul wouldn’t drop this, he sighed and sat up as well.
“I’d be shocked that you’d wanna date me. But, we do know each other very well so it wouldn’t be awful.”
The other remained quiet when he finally got his answer, brain rushing with a million things.
He wasn’t sure why he kept speaking.. He should just let them both sleep.
“What if I told you I wanted to kiss you?”
Christ.
He really should stop talking.
He’s not queer, he’s not queer, he’s queer-
“I would.. I would try it. See how it’d feel I guess. I’ve never kissed a lad before and I’ve seen you proper snog them girls at the pub so it’d be interesting.”
Paul smiled, ”Well then, John Winston Lennon. I want to kiss ya.”
John pushed him away, noticing that Paul was getting close. Lennon laughed thinking he was joking.
“Not a laughing matter, Johnny.”
The other stilled, his breathing hitched.
“But you like women..”
Paul scoffed, choosing to be careful with his words.
“Liking women doesn’t mean you can’t like men, right? Plus, it’s only a tiny kiss. It’ll give you practise for the future.”
John smiled softly, “If you don’t like kissing me, don’t make it a big deal, ‘kay? We’ll forget about it if you don’t like it. I don’t wanna fall out again, after we’ve just made up.”
Paul agreed.
They both stared at each other in the dark room. Only the light coming from the gap in the curtain could be seen.
“I’m gonna kiss ya now, okay?” Macca told him, making sure that they were both, somewhat prepared.
John smiled quickly and closed his eyes.
Paul found it absolutely adorable.. But then again, John has always been adorable. He will always be adorable.
Slowly, Paul leaned in.
At first, to make them both comfortable, he quickly kissed the other mans’ cheek. Then his nose.
“Macca, you’re missing me mouth. You’re blinder than me,” he teased before gripping ahold of Paul’s shirt collar and yanking him so they would finally meet each other’s lips.
For a second, none of them moved, deciding to just enjoy the touching of their lips. But then, Paul started slowly moving his mouth against John’s mouth.
Though John’s lips were smaller than Paul’s, they were still soft and heavenly.
It felt so right in comparison to all the girls Paul used to kiss.
He has known John for ages.
He knows everything about him.
He loved John.
Actually, he loves John.
John’s hand left his t-shirt collar and travelled to the back of his neck, pushing his head so that his lips became firmly against his own.
It was exciting, the way their lips fit perfectly together. It was also exciting how Paul was positioned between John’s legs. And if anyone ever asks, it’s probably the only place where Paul could die happily.
Confidently, Paul snook his tongue out, testing to see how John would react. John easily obliged the small request and opened his mouth, letting their tongues meet.
Maybe it was a bit messy, some could argue. The way John’s hands gripped his hair or the way that Paul’s hands searched all over John’s body. Finally, learning everything about him. It was messy with too much spit and harshness but they didn’t care.
It was perfect.
They stayed there contently, kissing until their breathing failed and they were lacking oxygen.
Paul pulled himself away, despite the whine of protest that John let out.
“Sorry, Johnny. We’ve gotta breathe.”
John rolled his eyes.
“If I’m being completely honest, I think you might be a bit of a queer like me..” he joked, a pleased smile knitted onto his face.
Paul chuckled, “I think you’re right..But you know what, as long as I get to kiss these lips, I don’t care if I’m a fairy.”
Upon mentioned his lips, John licked them unconsciously.
“Christ, you’re gonna kill me,” Paul groaned out.
“Good.”
And for the next hour or so, they stayed awake: Kissing, hugging, laughing and catching up.
It was lovely.
But what was even more lovely (in Paul’s opinion), was the sweetness of John’s lips.. And his pure heart.
Paul really was down bad.