#last mclennon meeting

[foryouwereinmysong]

Do you think John and Paul ever saw each other again after ‘76? Or even talked on the phone? I know Paul says they did but every so often doubt creeps in and I start wondering if Paul isn’t just making up stories to convince himself that they were still friends. Your thoughts?

Thank you for the ask! It made me look back at John's last interviews and some of Paul's earliest after the murder. I don't think Paul made up the phone calls, because he has been consistent in talking about them since the early 80s. In his interviews shortly after John's death he talks about it quite detailed and I don't think he would make something like this up. For other speculations about their last meeting I found this great blogspot post: https://mccartnet.blogspot.com/2012/04/when-was-lennon-and-mccartneys-last.html

What I do wonder is, if they maybe saw each other for the last time in 1978. John mentions in 1980 he thinks that the "turning Paul away incident" was like 2 years ago and Geoffrey Giuliano claims that John, Yoko, Paul and Linda went to see the movie "Pretty Baby" together, which was released in April 1978. (The lost Lennon diaries) - but people say he's not a reliable source... But maybe John didn't turn Paul away the day after the SNL evening (24th of April 1976), but after the movie night? But then again Sean was already a toddler in 1978...

WELL if somebody did more research on this, I would love to know, but I'll end it here, because I think in the end there won't be a really satisfying answer. And maybe the important part is that the love they had for each other never went away either way.

(Newsweek, 1982, by Jim Miller)  Q: "Did you see much of him before he died?"

PAUL: "I saw him quite a bit. Always, the problem was talking business. Whenever we got into business, we got into an argument. It wasn't a pleasant framework for a relationship. When Sean (John and Yoko's son) was first born, I visited him a few times at the Dakota (Lennon's apartment house in New York). And then it had gone snotty. I used to turn up without calling him. One time, he got annoyed with me. He said, 'Well, look, man... Why do you just keep turning up here and surprise us? Why don't you just call first?' And I took that the wrong way. After that, I don't think I did see him. I phoned a few times. As long as we were talking about family, about life, it was good. The last time I spoke to him, I got off the phone and it felt like old friends again. I've talked to Yoko since then, and she's said to me, 'You know, he really was quite fond of you.' I think we were pretty close. But, sometimes, with brothers, you argue. They can be the most intense arguments, too."

(Playboy, 1984, by Joan Goodman) PLAYBOY: "Do you remember your last conversation with John?"

PAUL: "Yes. That is a nice thing, a consoling factor for me, because I do feel it was sad that we never actually sat down and straightened our differences out. But fortunately for me, the last phone conversation I ever had with him was really great, and we didn't have any kind of blowup. It could have easily been one of the other phone calls, when we blew up at each other and slammed the phone down."

PLAYBOY: "Do you remember what you talked about?"

PAUL: "It was just a very happy conversation about his family, my family. Enjoying his life very much; Sean was a very big part of it. And thinking about getting on with his career. I remember he said, 'Oh, God, I'm like Aunt Mimi, padding round here in me dressing gown' ...robe, as he called it, cuz he was picking up the American vernacular... 'feeding the cats in me robe and cooking and putting a cup of tea on. This housewife wants a career!' It was that time for him. He was about to launch Double Fantasy."

(Playboy, September 1980, by David Sheff) PLAYBOY: "Aside from the millions you've been offered for a reunion concert, how did you feel about producer Lorne Michaels' generous offer of $3200 for appearing together on 'Saturday Night Live' a few years ago?"

LENNON: "Oh, yeah. Paul and I were together watching that show. He was visiting us at our place in the Dakota. We were watching it and almost went down to the studio, just as a gag. We nearly got into a cab, but we were actually too tired."

PLAYBOY: "How did you and Paul happen to be watching TV together?"

LENNON: "That was a period when Paul just kept turning up at our door with a guitar. I would let him in, but finally I said to him, 'Please call before you come over. It's not 1956 and turning up at the door isn't the same anymore. You know, just give me a ring.' He was upset by that, but I didn't mean it badly. I just meant that I was taking care of a baby all day and some guy turns up at the door... But, anyway, back on that night, he and Linda walked in and he and I were just sitting there, watching the show, and we went, 'Ha-ha, wouldn't it be funny if we went down?' but we didn't."

PLAYBOY: "Was that the last time you saw Paul?"

LENNON: "Yes, but I didn't mean it like that." (Newsweek, 29th of September 1980, by Barbara Graustark) Q: "Paul McCartney's theory is that you became a recluse because you'd done everything - but be yourself."

JOHN: "What the hell does that mean? Paul didn't know what I was doing - he was as curious as everyone else. It's ten years since I really communicated with him. I know as much about him as he does about me, which is zilch. About two years ago, he turned up at the door. I said, 'Look, do you mind ringin' first? I've just had a hard day with the baby. I'm worn out and you're walkin' in with a damn guitar!"

[mclennonlgbt]

McLennon and "I know" thing

Paul and Mal Evans came to stay with us somewhere in the late spring of 1967 ... Paul and Mal, this time, were full of tales of this here LSD and what it could do. Unrecognisable psyches on familiar heads and shoulders: the voice was Paul's but the tone was ... God's? Paul said he and John had had 'this fantastic thing'; which really wasn't very informative, so I pressed him to flesh it out. 'Incredible, really, just locked into each other's eyes ... Like, just staring and then saying, "I know, man" and then laughing ... And it was great , you know.' ... Realising he wasn't getting through , Paul said, 'You'll just have to try it.

(Derek Taylor, Fifty Years Adrift, 1983)

1973: John's album "Mind Games" is released. It contains the song "I Know (I Know)".

I know what's coming down I can feel where it's coming from And I know it's getting better all the time As we share in each other's minds

Okay, 3 things: - the opening riff was copied from "I've Got a Feeling" - "it's getting better all the time" is an obvious reference to "Getting better" - "sharing each other's minds" refers to John's belief that he and Paul could read each other's minds AND their first LSD trip:

Me and John, we’d known each other for a long time. Along with George and Ringo, we were best mates. And we looked into each other’s eyes, the eye contact thing we used to do, which is fairly mind-boggling. You dissolve into each other. But that’s what we did, round about that time, that’s what we did a lot. And it was amazing. You’re looking into each other’s eyes and you would want to look away, but you wouldn’t, and you could see yourself in the other person. It was a very freaky experience and I was totally blown away.

— Paul McCartney (Barry Miles, Many Years From Now, 1997)

1983: Paul's album "Pipes of Peace" is released. In 2015 the album was re-issued. One of the added songs was "Twice in a Lifetime".

Who knows how we find love Stop before you give your answer Who knows where the mystery begins I know, I know I know because it's happening to me I know, I know

Also: Paul uses the phrase "one of those unspoken dreams", which reminds me of this fragment from Get back:

John: Hey! Have you dream about me last night? Paul: I don't remember. John: Very strong dream, you know. We both dreamt about it... amazing. Different dreams, you know. I thought you must have been there. I mean, I was touching you. Paul: Oh, you know, John, don't worry about it. John: There's nothing to worry about.

(notice that topic of telepathy comes up again)

The lyrics of "Twice in a Lifetime" refer to the idea of meeting the love of your life twice. I mean, it's about meeting two different people who are both the love of your life.

Which reminds me of Paul/John and Paul/Linda.

[crepesuzette2023]

Could you recommend me any dark Mclennon fics ? Dark themes, sex, ect. Thank you and love and appreciate your blog sm, it’s one of my fave Beatles blogs :)

Hi there, thanks for the ask and the compliment!

I have some angsty mclennon fics here.

Here are other dark fics that are not on that list:

Sadness & Heartbreak

only the lonely (@dailyhowl). Businessman John is meeting Paul for the last time (AU).

Lost, Nude, and Silence (@ohjohnnysblog). Three short stories in which Paul feels the irretrievable loss of John.

Horror/Nightmares

Odontotos (bookofapril). Paul can't let go of John after his death.

archangel (edcoda_). Paul thinks he's possessed by the devil.

ETA: I forgot two!

How Do We Sleep at Night (@dailyhowl). Paul is swallowed by a painting; John abandons the boat called Paul. (Two Nightmares about the breakup.)

I Found Out (@dailyhowl). John during Primal Scream Therapy.

Dark takes on Paul's childhood

At Night (three-part-series) (orphan_account). Paul grows up in an abusive home and survives thanks to his musical and romantic bond with John. I tried to forget this, and failed. Pain, beautiful pain.

Can You Take Me Back? (Lovely_Rita). Paul grows up as a lonely boy with a sick heart. Still, he meets John and the Beatles happen. But it's not easy. There is something relentless and hypnotic about this story.

The Cast Iron Shore (@m1ssunderstanding). John pays Paul to have sex with him. This ends well, but both of them have to struggle through self-loathing and angst.

In the year of our Lord nineteen sixty-eight: relationship disintegration.

Days Like This (@eveepe). They have sex, it solves nothing.

Bad Luck to Talk (7intheevening). Paul spends an evening with Johnandyoko.

a great threat (@pauls1967moustache): Yoko enters the scene. Paul (a woman, and 'mostly a dyke') does not react well. Psychological warfare and hate sex, winner-takes-all, with the Beatles as trophy.

(P.S. I have no hard rules about the stuff I read, but I tend to stay away from stories that explore topics like torture or rape, deep trauma, pain, and hurt without comfort (esp. outside of canon events)—which means I'm probably unaware of stories that do this well, and would be good answers for your ask. Perhaps someone well read in that category can add recommendations...and there's always the bookmarks-breadcrumbs system on AO3.

I hope there's something in this list you like, regardless.)

[eloeloanna]

70s McLennon Post

This is for entertainment purposes only.

-

Check my readings! here

-

In my poll, the motels question was the winner, but I thought we needed more information to understand what was going on, so these are the answers to common questions that I’ve seen regarding McLennon in the 70s + the motels one.

Enjoy!

Did John and Paul meet more times in the 70s, that it is said in the press?

I would say yes.

It’s very interesting, because the cards start telling me about how they planned to meet, and how they thought about it. Every time this happened they would feel satisfied, but the thing is, they were very insecure. It was like if one of them was nice and loving, the other would suspect why he would be like that. There was also a problem about “flexibility”, it wasn’t like before, where they could be absolute fools. I think they had some sense of belonging though, familiarity. They enjoyed being together, but there was a lot going on in the moment, it was like you couldn’t know what was the actual problem, because there were lots of issues, and even when there was love, it felt like it wasn’t a balanced relationship. I think during the 70s timeline one of the parts actually addressed this issue, in a very mature way, the other part felt very good, very happy. But it seems to me that it was a thing of the moment, or probably lasted months (or a year), the thing is, some rumour, some news, something like that, stopped the happiness of one of the parts and he regretted “believing”. He thought that conversation was probably fake and the other did it to gain something, with a second intention, or in the best case, just for the passion of the moment.

It seems to me that after this part the cards were telling me about John’s lost weekend, which it is, messy 😭. I can do that if you want but I think it distracts us from the question.

So they did. But it was difficult to “really” communicate.

Did John and Paul still had some kind of relationship like they had in the 60s? (Romantic, sexual)

For me it seems almost impossible but, let’s start with the beginning.

The cards start describing a sensation that they had in a long time - someone is going to betray me. No matter what interaction they had, they ended up doubting anything. That wasn’t the ideal scenario for any loving relationship. It is obvious that they thought about this, how good it was, and also, one of the parts, possibly proposed something, but the other, firmly declined. I think this person felt “incomplete”, miserable, even when he was around famous people, very wealthy, and being in a “good state”. I think this situation let him to feel rejection in a way that he couldn’t actually choose what to do. He could see the difficulties of this relationship, was he crazy? I think he really wanted to try again, even with the good memories mixed with the unpleasant ones, but I think it was difficult to do something, even when he had something in mind because the other + wife couldn’t stop to do shit together and it actually blocked him for his intentions. I think he had to wait until some time, and then I can see him almost corner the other part between him and his wife. I think that reunion led to something, because leaving that one he felt amazing. They had to “solve” their imbalances, they knew they felt something. And I think, finally, after some time, this person sincerely offer him love, or the words, or actions. In that moment they felt like it was before. But I think again, rumours, or really bad friends would be saying again, that was a mistake, you are “not gaining” anything with this, etc. and this part saw it as the truth. All the peace, the passion, the conversations, the happiness, were shit. They couldn’t be real.

Could John and Paul solve all their issues during the 70s?

I don’t think so.

The cards start telling me about the break up. How they “didn’t” have a choice but to move on, it’s like they had to “surrender” to change. After some time they actually felt proud on themselves that they could do it, they “could” be without each other, but at the same time was a sense of being “incomplete”, and they didn’t like that they had some new rules to follow. Time to time they would remember “the good times”, everything that they left behind, but they didn’t like to appear weak, because they could see that they other was actually having a good time, like nothing happened. So that image that they had of each other, made difficult for them to actually start a conversation. It had to pass a long time until one of them brung it up. I think in this part of the timeline this person was VERY HONEST (or tried his best), very much upfront in what he felt (I can see the topics of love and sex in the cards). It seems to me this was a very passionate argument, it was like he could be almost screaming, but the other part couldn't accept this, it's like in his mind he had a very fixed image of the other, but the other would point out what they would "gain" with this. I can also feel the topic of music, writing. Work. And probably that didn't sit well with the other part. The thing is, this part, didn't actually answer. He just acted like everything in his life was going well, so what are you talking to me about this? I think the other part knew it was bullshit and tried to reach him again. The thing is, the other part didn't know what to do. For him it was "easier" to listen to the people who would told him that those kinds of plans were meant to fail, that there were second intentions there. This person would think about their relationship, how probably the other was saying some kind of truth, but then he would think that probably the other person was doing it as some sort of charity, because he was always "so good". And he felt "satisfied" thinking like that.

I think this was recurrent during the 70s timeline. The next cards are telling the same. One of the parts feeling very happy that he was contacted, feeling like 2 minutes of happiness and then regretting it, and feeling confused for the interaction.

As for the part who contacted first, I don't know how he had so much patience 😭. He actually would think time to time how to get the other person, even of he was "blocked", in some way.

Is it true that they would reunite in motels in the 70s?

I think it is. BUT -

The cards start telling me about the stress they went because of the “rules” that they had to follow, how they needed to act “mature”. They surely missed each other, they missed their love, but they couldn’t do anything about it, and it was like nothing good would come up of having those thoughts. It seems to me that also they thought that they were “in a good state” of their lifes, so why they would even bother. I think they thought a lot of trying to be the first on doing something, but they would regret, because nothing was like in the past.

It had to pass a long time until they would reunite. This reunion led to having more hope in the reworking of the relationship. The thing is, when A would propose something, it would be put in the set of rules that they didn’t like very much and B would feel that it wasn’t enough, but he wouldn’t say it directly. Obviously that hurt a lot, but A transformed the feeling into the fuel to plan something new. They had the chance again. But if I can illustrate it in some way, it’s like blurred. It was something that B probably felt like it was fake, a lie. A would propose a lot of shit but didn’t seem thoughtful of B’s feelings, it was quick, it was nothing. It was difficult to B to know what was the truth. He liked what would happen, but he would regret immediately also.

[heartsinthebasement]

Pass the happy! ✨ When you get this, reply with 5 things that make you happy and send this to the last 10 people in your notifications! <333

Hurray! This has goaded me on to finally make a few fic recs. Here are some of the writings that have made me very happy recently. These are all Mclennon because hello and welcome to my mind:

Whatever Fate Decrees by thisbirdhasflown

An AU in which John sidesteps music for art, and meets Paul Mccartney (up and coming singer/songwriter) in London in the early 60s. It's really great, and of course there is still all the miscommunication, as well as Brian, Jane, fame, and a slow and careful courtship on Paul's part.

What Happens in Cheshire by cloudy_blue

Forty-five minutes in New Brighton, October 1962. Or, five conversations in a night. Multiple povs surrounding an unwise tryst in an alley while they're all waiting for Little Richard to show up. John is in lovesick puppy mode, George is in scathing mode, Paul is upset and Mo is seriously weirded out.

Arrow Through Me by inspiteallthedanger

The multi chapter fix it epic THAT EVERYONE NEEDS IN THEIR LIVES. Paul decides he's not straight early on in life, and this changes many things. Many many things.

Past Tense by paisana

This had me shrieking. Set in May 1968, they are both in Liverpool on separate breaks, and meet. Beautiful writing. The agony of miscommunication is intense, but with a resolution of sexual and emotional tension that made me feel a bit faint.

How much was mine to to keep by mynamesbetty (waltwhitmans)

Like, I don't know who else secretly suspects Paul of being a time traveller? Obviously he's not, but... You know? Anyway! This fic is amazing, stylistic Vonnegut (which I love btw). Paul keeps coming unstuck and is flung through time. Until at last he isn't.

You, Paul wanted to say, but not yet. It was a delicate situation.

[genderlessginger]

Get Back, McLennon: Day 4

Check out the other Get Back posts here.

Day 4 does not have much (if any) fun McLennon:

Paul's mad at John for being late. He was the latest to get there on Day 1, but I know that this is a pattern for John.

During what I would consider a John-induced music coma, Paul writes Get Back.

Here is the first look we see on camera

There's a lot of conversation about where the show should be, etc. John is high (presumably on heroin).

The conversation goes toward the band being in the doldrums for the past 18 months. Paul feels overwhelmed stepping into a "boss" roll. He's demanding a decision from the others. He's met mostly with silence.

"Maybe we should have a divorce," George said.

The camera shits to reveal Paul's reaction to what George said.

"Well, I said that at the last meeting," Paul responds.

Look at John.

John freezes after this is said.

He stays like this until he can figure out how to react. He leans down, grabs a cigarette and asks Paul:

"Who will have the children?"

"Dick James," Paul said.

As an act of reconciliation, they play Maxwell until time for lunch. George has to help John with the chords. I've read that during this day/session, John couldn't remember things and was a little too high to function.

So, they go to lunch, (and Mal has to get the hammer and anvil) and come back and play.

FINALLY, HERE'S SOME MCLENNON, GOOD GOD.

There's not a huge amount, but when we do see Paul during Day 4, he's regularly trying to engage with John:

That's the end of Day 4, babes!

[guitars-and-kaleidoscope-eyes]

Here Today

Chapter One: Come Together

My first ever McLennon fanfic!! This is a fanfic where Paul and John meet as teenagers and begin a band. They're great friends. Nothing could change that, right?

WARNING:

I want to emphasize that this is purely fictional. Paul McCartney and John Lennon were never lovers. If you do not feel comfortable reading this kind of thing, just pass it by. And please don't leave hate comments for this.

Also, I may or may not need to change the dates of some events for the story to make sense.

1945

A little boy with strawberry blonde hair peers outside a car window, feeling the warmth against his face. His aunt Mary is taking him away from his mummy. When asking his aunt why, she simply said it was "grown-up issues". That's how a lot of his questions were answered. "Grown-up issues". He still has the image of the red head standing helplessly, tears in her eyes, as her baby was taken away from her.

"Were almost there John. Were going to see your Uncle George!" His aunt said, trying to hype up the little boy.

"I wanna be with my mummy!" The boy pouted.

"That will be enough of that John Lennon. Your mother may let you be that way at her house, but not here." The lady said in a stern voice.

"Humph!" The boy pouted and crossed his arms.

His aunt shook her head. "So this is how Julia is letting him behave." She thought to herself. Oh sure, she loved her dear sister. She loved all of her sisters. But when she saw the way John was being raised, something had to be done. Sleeping in the same bed as his mum was just ridiculous!

"Don't worry John. We'll get to see your mum soon." She said.

The word "mum" echoed in his head to rest of the car ride.

1946

"My sorry Mrs. Starkey, but your son had severe peritonitis. We believe he may have contacted it during his appendectomy. He is currently in a coma. We are not sure how long it will last." The doctor told a mother waiting for her son in a hospital waiting room.

The mother buried her face in her hands and started to sob. How could this of happened? Just last week her little boy was happy and perfectly well. At some point, he began complaining of tummy aches and had a high fever. After the symptoms got worse, his mother chose to take him to the hospital. It turned out he had appendicitis and was taken into surgery. But he didn't wake up. He was in a coma.

"H-how long will it take for him to wake up?" Elise asked after she had calmed down.

"Only time will tell, I'm afraid." He said sadly.

Elise continued crying into her hands, thinking of nothing but her baby.

1954

A young twelve year old boy with dark hair and large eyes sits on a bus staring out the window at the landscape. Across the isle is a skinny young boy a year younger than him, watching him with curiosity, as he appeared to be making faces in the window and laughing at himself. The boy slides over to the seat where the older boy is and starts a conversation.

"Hey, do you go to the Liverpool Institute?" He asked him.

"Yeah, I do. You too?" He asks.

"Yeah, I saw we have the same uniform on." The younger boy said.

"You know, I think I've seen you there." The older boy says. "Don't you have a guitar?"

"Yeah, I do. I'm just starting to learn." The younger one replies.

"I'm getting one soon, hopefully." The older says.

"That's cool! We should play together." The younger says.

"Yeah, that'd be great!" The older boy says. "I'm Paul McCartney."

"George Harrison."

[inspiteallthedanger]

Anon on tinhatting. I consider myself a shipper in that shipping is a part of fandom I enjoy. I read fanfic and meta and enjoy reading people's theories and exploring my own. I don't consider myself a shipper in that I don't have any set ideas about the reality of John and Paul's relationship. What I said in my ask (I believe John was interested in men and making the leap to him being interested in Paul on some level feels perfectly logical) is the most I feel certain of.

I think you're question of "where is the line?" is the core of what I was trying to articulate. I don't know what experience you have in other rpf fandoms, but the outline I gave is hugely informed by the stuff I've seen in fandoms like One Direction and Supernatural rpf. I'm in my late twenties, I've been in fandom since I was 12. And decent handful of those fandoms were rpfs. And it's shocking how quickly shipping theories spiral into conspiracy theories which often quickly turn toxic. And equally shocking is how, after you've been in one or two of those fandoms, you realize all those conspiracy theories look exactly the same.

I want to make clear, I think the Mclennon/Beatles fandom is 1000x better than any rpf fandom I've ever been in before. The premium placed on well sourced evidence is amazing and the openness to ambiguity is wonderful. But when that other anon said how they were occasionally uncomfortably reminded of larries, I felt that. So what I was trying to articulate in my last ask was those moments when I feel like things teeter close to that line.

What I was trying to point to with the song lyrics stuff was the reciprocal nature of the more conspiracists bent. If that makes sense? Theorizing that "in my life" is about Paul and romantic makes perfect sense. As does compiling evidence to try to support that theory. But, unless your evidence is 100% rock solid there is no other plausible theory, turning around and using "in my life" being about Paul as evidence in another theory is, for me, based on other fandom conspiracies I've seen, where things go from thoughtful fandom meta to uncomfortable tinhat rabbit hole. Same with the lying stuff. It's fine to assess if someone's telling the truth, but when dealing with real people, I do think there's an ethical obligation to double check whether your cognitive bias is encouraging you to dismiss the legitimacy of someone's report on their lived experience. It's not the analysis that slides into tinhattery, it's the willingness to discount evidence that doesn't fit a narrative you've already decided on. And over inflate evidence that does.

I maybe shouldn't have tacked on the platonic relationship stuff because it really isn't specific to John/Paul. It's just that the kind of "if not than why?" stuff always starts to drain on me and make me as an ace/aro person feel unwelcome in fandom spaces. Fandom is so romance centered in a way that most other fiction (besides romance novels and romcoms) really isn't. This isn't just a mlm thing either. I was talking about this with Mulder/Scully in X-Files fandom the other day. So that feeling for me is way bigger than tinhattery.

But I do think that kind of leads into the "loves of each other's lives" stuff. Because it's another thing that's really born out of lifelong fandom. The "one truest love" thing is such a fandom staple. It's basically in the DNA of fanfiction. And that's great! I like a "one true love" thing too. But when applied to real people it gets stickier. If that makes sense? And I don't think it comes out in any one way in practice necessarily (well, occasionally it does, I did once see someone say that Linda was great for Paul because she accepted that John would always be the most important person in his life). It's more the general, meeting to death, feeling you occasionally get from fandom sometimes. And there's nothing inherently wrong with the theory (sometimes I buy meeting to death), but it's impossible not to recognize how based in the standard fandom blueprint it is. And once you notice that the idea of when either one of them "got over" the other rarely, if ever, gets discussed as even a possibility, that standard fandom stuff starts to feel somewhat insidious.

I want to reiterate that I think this fandom is way better than any rpf fandom I've been in before. It's just these hints of conspiracy that peak through every once and a while.

I hope this all made sense. I'm about to go to bed so sorry if it's phrased weird

Hello again anon, and thanks for coming back. I know a lot of people were interested in hearing what you had to say, so we'll all appreciate the clarifications.

What you're saying makes a lot of sense to me. I can see that you'd be on edge from other fandoms, even if you've not seen the exact same behaviour here.

You're right that I've seen a lot less of the weird conspiracy stuff here than I've witnessed (at a distance) in other rpf fandoms (in fact the two you mention seem to be the worst of them). This isn't my first rpf fandom, but my first was very chill, much like this is. Here, there's not really lots and lots of disagreement that the men loved their partners or were really with them. Which I know isn't the case everywhere. Honestly, that's something that would really put me off.

And that's before we get into the really weird stuff people end up saying in other fandoms.

Yes, building theories on top of theories is very classic in conspiracy theories everywhere. It's something that it's important to look out for, for sure. I guess, I always take anything in fandom as not being 100% true, unless we have a lot of sources for it. Even John's sexuality, which does seem to be the most clear, we can't be sure of. And we certainly don't know how he felt or identified.

I also get what you mean about OPT thing. Like, real life doesn't work like that. It's not something that I've ever felt compelled towards, to be honest. I'm personally comfortable that people can love multiple people at once. Or, indeed, you can love someone so much it makes you insane... but it can still go away.

Anyway, I think you're right in all of this. I agree that I've only seen a little of what you're talking about actually done in this fandom. But, I do think it's worth checking in with yourself about it. Like, as I say, people should have fun. But, when you start taking things really seriously, start believing you have the 'one truth' that's where it starts to justify weird, invasive behaviour. Like commenting on the guys' or families' social media posts.

[recallthename]

Hey, hello! I'm sorry if you've answered this question to others before, but in case you read fanfiction, can you recommend me some? I was reading until recently ''Carry That Weight'' by waveofahand (and then its continuation ''Hello, Goodbye''), and it was long and exciting but I reached its last written chapter and I'm sad. I decided to ask you, because you like Paul, me too, and maybe you'd know some good Paul focused (though they don't have to be entirely) or at least Paul-respecting fics. They can be Mclennon of course. I love them angsty... but I'd be curious to check any recs.

i do read fic! i'm pretty picky about it though, so i don't feel like i have that much. but i'm always happy to rec!  especially cause it seems like we have similar tastes.

first off, there are two wips i'm reading that i am deeply into. which is saying something since i normally stridently avoid wips.  these do both still have chapters regularly coming out, so i feel confident reccing them (which i wouldn’t if they seem abandoned)

Going Nowhere by inspiteallthedanger - When Paul gets the news, he rushes out to New York and ends up bringing an injured John back to England. Once there, they try and figure out how to find their way back to one another. A post-1980 fix-it that includes flashbacks to some major moments in their past and an exploration of where John and Paul might have ended up if John had lived.

(It's Just) Another Day by obstinatrix - Cavendish, 1974; The stars, it seems, have aligned: the rare weekend has arisen upon which both Ringo and the McCartneys will be in London at the same time. This is lucky, because Paul has something to tell Ringo — something nobody’s sure how John would react to if he were ever to find out. Or: they’re lesbians, Harold. Eventual John/Paul with lots of other stuff along the way.

the rest are all completed fics.  i also tried to only include longer ones.  partially because they’re my preference and partially cause i’m more likely to remember them well lol.  maybe some day i’ll make a proper Long Post with every bookmark i have on ao3.

The Wild And Windy Night by tikk - 26k words - After the Beatles split, John and Paul's relationship deteriorates hard and fast. John grows more and more reckless, and Paul doesn't know how to reach him. Until suddenly Paul is broken apart, just as John starts to pull himself together.  if you read nothing else i rec, read this one.  probably my favorite in the fandom, i still think about it all the time even though it was one of the first i read.

Throw The Wine by savageandwise - 51k words - "But you realise that you're in real life, and you don't split up a beautiful thing with a beautiful thing." -Paul McCartney Or do you?

i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc) by fingersfallingupwards - 27k words - John’s twelve when a bloke appears from a flaming pie and says, “From this day forward you are Beatles with an ‘a.’” The bloke is Paul. Or: paul and john meet at all ages and eras and john is the time-traveler’s wife the way only john lennon can be

metered by fingersfallingupwards - 44k words - "The bloke said something just the same as you did, about floating off unless tied down, or maybe it was the other way around, getting tied down to float off, y'know.”- OR: Canon-era John and Paul haphazardly invent BDSM, and learn a few things about power, surrender, pleasure, and themselves along the way

You're a Dream Lover by thisbirdhadflown - 44k words - "John had once mused that reality leaves a lot to the imagination. Christ, don’t they know it. But what you don’t dare do in real life and what you don’t dare imagine leaves what you dream. It’s the closest thing to truth he’s ever had. And then there’s John, reigning above everything. Emperor of Eternity." Paul and John start sharing lucid dreams together in the summer of 1967.

We'll Always Have Paris by bunnoculars - 22k words - John and Paul go to Paris. Part 1 is set during their trip over John's birthday in 1961, and Part 2 is set during their residency at Olympia Theatre in 1964. The last part would've been set during their impromptu visit in 1966, but I have no plans to write it.

if you’re a paul fan and not a strident mclennon, i recommend checking out what (unfortunately little) there is of paul/omc on ao3.  there are a few great ones with robert fraser, downtothelastdrop seems determined to hook him up with everyone and i’m obsessed with it.  also i’m not 100% if my privacy is open (i think so?) but here’s my ao3 bookmarks, which has all of the shorter/incomplete wips i’ve loved that i neglected to list here.  again i will probably actually make a rec list on tumblr eventually, but just for in the mean time.

hope you find some stuff you like!

[mimikyugirl]

He's Leaving Home

-one shot-

John's heart breaks into a thousand different pieces seeing the abuse that Paul goes through at home. After so many years of trauma, Paul finally has a chance to be free.

.McLennon.

TW: description of psychological and physical abuse; description of trauma; discussions of death and homophobia.

John had arranged to meet Paul at the pier before he even left. The lone bench tucked away on the docks was the couple's favorite spot and they knew that the city's prying eyes rarely reached it, giving them complete freedom to be together.

John was away with his aunt for a week to visit some relatives, and it was the first time he had been away from Paul for so long. He split his mind between ardently missing Paul and worrying about him. Paul didn't have great family stability, and John knew full well that his safety was a issue. All it took was Paul's father to be in a bad mood, and the boy would get a new scar somewhere that couldn't be seen.

The night John finally arrived back in town, he just wished he had Paul safe in his arms, even though the latest assault had already taken place many months ago.

John walked to the pier, a single red rose in his hands, unable to control the smile on his face knowing he would finally have Paul back.

Already seated, he enjoyed two cigarettes in the company of the calm waves below the pier, watching a few ships pass over the dark horizon and checking the watch on his wrist restlessly.

Paul announced his arrival discreetly. He walked towards John like a frightened cat, quiet and taking advantage of the dark edges of the dock. He checks if they were safe even before saying hi to his boyfriend.

John got to his feet with a big smile, the rest of the third cigarette falling to the ground to be forgotten for the rest of the night now that nothing else mattered to his lips but Paul's. It wasn't more than three steps away from the boy, in the yellow light of the docks, when John realized that beneath the shy smile, there were already new scars.

He hugged Paul gently, his heart racing and his smile once again turning to concern.

No words were exchanged before John's hands found his and guided Paul back to the cold bench on the pier. They sat there, hands still clasped, and for several minutes Paul avoided all the questions he heard and just stared into John's eyes, as if trying to melt into them once more.

When the questions could no longer be avoided and the red rose rested peacefully in his hands, they began to talk. John, despite loving his boyfriend's voice, knew he wouldn't love the things he would hear about his period of absence.

"Have you at leats been able to rest, love?" John asked a few minutes later, his eyes unable to stray for a second from his beloved.

The two were sitting so close together that the rest of the bench could easily not exist. They leaned against each other, looking apprehensively over the bench in case anyone showed up. Paul closed his eyes and let himself sink for a few seconds in the scent of John and the safety of his embrace. A small relief to what he went trough.

"I'm not sure when was the last time I slept well. Between all the fighting and screaming my head has been having trouble shutting down" Paul whispered "It's like I've been listening to the echoes for hours and hours and hours, y'know."

John held him gently, afraid to cause discomfort with the bruises. His hands slid under Paul's hair and he tried not to be swallowed up by the impotence he felt.

The first time Paul sought him out was no different from a night like this. A knock on John's bedroom window let him know Paul was there, and a glance at his face made it clear why.

They snuggled in bed together and imagined happy scenarios that involved running away to Paris together or even John going over to Paul's house to teach James a lesson. Paul was crying softly so as not to disturb, and John held him tight so he would know he wasn't alone, all until he slept soundly against John's chest.

Sometimes the nights were more frequent, sometimes months went by without Paul appearing with bruises, but the two always knew it was not the end. The next time always existed, and John was never prepared to see his lover hurt.

"Sometimes I think I deserve it, y'know. I think it's these nights that nightmares find me easier." Paul's voice brought John back to the pier. He pulled away from John to light a cigarette and cross his legs as if trying to take up less space in the world.

"I think I should be a better son or…" Paul trailed off, looking away, trying to make sense of what he felt "I don't know, maybe I should be something different."

"It's not your fault, Paulie" John started to say, his eyes roving painfully over the bruises on the other boy's face "You don't have to be someone different. You're perfect this way and it's not your fault your dad doesn't agree."

Paul knew that John spoke the truth, and that he loved him for what he was. He also knew that in an ideal reality he would be free to love John and not feel guilty one second for it, but when he felt his face burn under yet another slap from his father and heard all the grievances about his love for John, he couldn't help but think that maybe he wasn't so worthy of the love John felt for him.

"I thought they had stopped" John said, feeling his chest sink "The nightmares, I mean."

"Well..." Paul continued "They stop when my dad stops."

Paul's most recent nightmares were enough to make him wish to never sleep again. He always started out alone in a completely dark place, a single light walking slowly towards him, growing more and more as it comes. With his heart already beating desperately, Paul realizes that it is his father walking towards him holding a torch, so high that he could easily be a tower. James then threats to set fire to the music sheets and instruments of Paul that, trying to rescue them, realizes that he is tied up and helpless. Even worse, when his father turn in the dark, he sets John on fire and Paul is forced to listen to him burn slowly, helplessly aswell.

John knew that Paul's nightmares could be quite cruel. He remembers many times, when they shared a bed at Mendips, where Paul would wake up in the middle of the night sobbing so hard that not even John's whispers could calm him down. John knew Paul relived the moments of pain and fear from home, and he felt devastated that he couldn't help. No more than just stay there and listen.

"I make an effort to get out of them, to wake up" Paul blurted, smoke trickling from his lips "But I never quite know why, y'know. There's no relief in waking up."

At least that, John could understand. He remembers all the nights he spent thinking it wouldn't matter to the world whether he woke up or not. The feeling of waking up and forgetting for a few seconds who you are or where you are, only to have all the emotions and pain thrown in your face again.

He pulled Paul against him, John's eager eyes sliding over every detail he loved, which were now corrupted by bruises far deeper than showed on the surface. "Look at me, luve" he whispered.

Paul turned with some difficulty to meet John's gaze and listened intently to everything he said.

"Remember that poem we read together that day? About how spring will still come if we die?*" Paul nodded attentively before John continued "Reality doesn't need us, luve. We have no commitment to the task of existing, y'know, no commitment to what other people expect of us."

"I love you" John said, a gentle smile on his lips "And spring comes for me, even if I love another man. It certainly comes for you, no matter what your father thinks of our love."

Paul remembers the poem. The night he and John spent debating how beautiful it was to live just for the joy of living and how far away they were from it.

"I...I love you too John" Paul whispered, pressing his forehead to John's "You're the only thing that gives me hope of being what I really want to be."

They didn't need to say, they knew the thing Paul wanted to be was free. Simply free.

John glanced over his shoulder quickly before sliding a gentle kiss over Paul's lips, a kiss that sealed their agreement never to give up on being together one day. Free.

"Remember when we planned to run away?" John whispered, his eyes searched Paul's lips for a hint of a smile "We even wrote the farewell letters."

"Dear Mimi..." Paul tried to keep his laughter low, leaning his body gently against John as if whispering a secret "Oh boy... that could have turned out so different" He finally concluded.

"She would never understand what she did wrong" John said, putting a finger to his mouth and biting it nervously " She would have spent the rest of her life saying I was ungrateful and treated her badly."

"Of course..." Paul took a long drag on his cigarette before pulling John's face to look him in the eye "Because how dare you not like having your mental and physical space violated? How dare you, boy?"

"I missed... I missed you so much that sometimes you didn't feel real in my head anymore" Paul whispered apologetically, as if he still needed confirmation that John was there with him.

"I don't feel very real sometimes either, y'know" John completed, lifting Paul's chin towards his face "But now, with you, I'm pretty sure I am."

John got lost in Paul's eyes for a few seconds, before starting to speak as if he were pleading, "Let's go, Paulie. The two of us."

He held Paul's face in his hands and whispered ardently, as if this time it would be enough to convince Paul "We can be so happy together. And I... I can take care of you."

"I really wanted to go" Paul said, the sad smile filling his face once more "Whenever I imagine running away with you I... I imagine finally having a safe place I guess."

"So let's do it" John said, stroking him hopefully "You're the only thing I care about in this place, there's nothing stopping us!"

Paul always felt guilty about being the one to burst John's bubble, always reminding him that he couldn't just walk away.

"Love, it's not that easy" He replied seeing that John's hope had already dissipated "I hope you can understand that... I don't... I can't just go."

A small part of John needed to work harder to understand than he wanted to admit. Sometimes he thought Paul could rebel better, or maybe simply hit back.

"Simply."

Even John recognized that he wasn't the best person in the world to have a conversation about abuse, and he cared enough about Paul to try not to make matters worse.

"Ei" John whispered, gently stroking Paul's face "The only reason I even talk about running away is because I wish I could protect you... protect better than dis, y'know."

"And I love you for that but... I can't just go" Paul concluded, looking away to the calm waters below the pier "I think... I don't know. I really don't know."

John's hands rested nonchalantly on Paul's shoulders until the boy finally announced that he needed to walk back home.

The only sign left by the couple on the bench was a small cigarette remnant and the faint scent of John's perfume, festering in the air for a few more seconds after they finally parted.

The farewells were long and graced with whispers of undying love. If it weren't for the fact that they were both dreading the goodbye and that they never knew when they would see each other again, it would be a farewell worthy of the most passionate couple in any movie.

"You know where to find me, luve" was the last thing John said before he walked away. A single sad nod signaled that Paul knew, but somehow hoped that he wouldn't need to go there once more.

The walk home was made in the company of another cigarette, and for Paul, a beautiful red rose, still safe between his fingers.

Even before opening the small rusty gate at the entrance to the house, his heart sank when he realized that the figure of his father was already waiting for him. James was looking out through the small glass cutout in the door, as if making it clear that Paul was about to enter enemy territory.

For the first time in the night, and perhaps in his life, Paul felt the pain in his bruises intensify, and he hesitated. He knew what was about to happen but this time something inside him changed. Paul felt he had something to lose and for the first time, that he deserved to be waited on by something better, something warmer. Something like John and the love they had for each other.

Even before his cigarette hit the dirt path under his feet, Paul had already turned around.

The small metal gate slammed into his back as if warning him to leave faster. Paul backed away from there, taking a deep breath, holding John's rose tight between his fingers.

The only scar that Paul would proudly bear for all the years to come was the small hole in his right hand, the hole made by the single thorn of John's rose. He would remember her as the last wound in that house, the wound that represented his freedom.

He wouldn't notice the thin streak of blood coming out of his hand until later, when he finally arrived at John's house and announced that he was ready to live an uncertain future with him.

His nightmares would be as forgotten in the past as his scars and John would become his family, the one he deserved and would finally fill him with as much happiness as he'd hoped his entire life.

He left home to finally understand what a home really was.

*Quando a Primavera Vier (When Spring Comes) is a poem by Fernando Pessoa (under the pseudonym of Alberto Caeiro) and can be read in english here .

[johns-prince]

Let's play the speculation game and say McLennon was real. Going with the common idea that Paul dumped John in India, wasn't the "let's all be friends, write together and go on double dates with our wives" angle Paul seemed to hope for completely delusional? Why would someone with John's issues stick around and celebrate Paul's happiness with someone else after being downgraded?

I have great respect for Paul's decision of not being John's nanny/handler for the rest of his life. But I've always been annoyed by his inability to let the man go for good. Paul, you've made your choice, my friend. Enough with the sad songs about not being called back or turning up on John's doorstep with a guitar when the he was spending time with his own family. People hate that but some things in the world really are black or white. You can't have it both ways.

Why speculate when we know it was and is real 

Alright so, let me try to unpack my thoughts cohesively get ya tinfoil hats on y’all;

If we go with the theory that during 1967, when Paul and John were practically living together and conjoined at the hip, taking LSD together and sharing those intense and intimate experiences that even Pau’s girlfriend Jane had become envious of— John had come to the realization of what he wanted, finally acknowledged it and came to accept it. 

So in India, John tried to confront Paul about their relationship and their “relationship,” and openly admit to Paul that he wanted more, that he was now willing to leave Cynthia and Julian for a life he truly wanted or desired, and that included Paul (but to what extent is what we debate I guess) 

And now that I’m thinking about it, we also know John was sort of beginning to spiral downward in 1968. It was obvious his marriage with Cynthia was at it’s end, and he didn’t want to work on it anymore. He was surrounding himself more with druggies, an unsavory crowd that Cynthia really didn’t approve of (Yoko was part of this crowd) and he was actively pulling away.  

I think John was realizing that, he just wasn’t happy. That, putting everything he had into becoming one of the most successful musicians in the world, to become bigger then Elvis Presley, didn’t make him happy. It didn’t fix what needed fixing in him, what needed addressing. He was still drowning despite it all. 

So you’ve got the trip to India, the boys going in hopes that perhaps the Maharishi Mahesh Yog and his spiritual teachings would somehow give a new perspective on things, produce the answer that would save the band (save John and Paul) from what appeared to be an inevitable downfall. But as we know, that isn’t what was needed. 

John and Paul needed to talk. The lack of consistent communication between them for years and years, and the fact John needed a therapist, he needed rehab. So did Paul, during the White Album era. 

I don’t believe Paul dumped John, but I do think John could have easily misconstrued Paul taking a step back and not willing to just go blindly, impulsively jumping off a theoretical cliff with him, as being rejected. We know Paul had to sort of take the position of ‘think before you leap’, to be more conscious of the actions and decisions he and the others decide to take, and how it would effect them as individuals, and especially them as a band (because frankly the others wouldn’t) and we know that John could be incredibly impulsive, only thought of the consequences after the fact. That, and who’s to say such a proposition and confrontation from John hadn’t scared Paul? Got him feeling those insecurities of his own crawling up. 

Paul wanted a traditional family, he wanted to have a wife and children. But Paul also wanted John, he wanted and loved Lennon-McCartney, and he didn’t think (or he’d hoped) him getting married and having a family would really change anything between them (because John got married and had a kid and they were still able to do go and do whatever they wanted together, so what was the difference—) that he could still keep what he had with John, that they could still stay together after The Beatles split. Get around to writing that musical, and grow old together still writing and making music, still creating together.

How I see it, is that Paul wanted to have his cake and eat it too.

Paul, being fine with keeping the status quo between them, it was safe and enough (right?), but John vehemently wasn’t fine with it anymore, and it wasn’t enough for him. Nothing was enough for him, as we know; John was a very all-or-nothing individual, and expected complete devotion and love from someone, because receiving less felt like rejection and abandonment was only around the corner. This way of feeling and thinking for John was only exasperated by the drugs, his alcoholism, and his spiraling mental health. 

Paul could have tried compromising with John, and John still could have taken that as a complete rejection of his feelings and what he wanted, and what he had hoped and thought Paul also wanted. 

I believe Paul probably didn’t even know himself what he had done wrong, or that he did anything wrong. I don’t think Paul believed he was downgrading John to anything either.

If only they had talked.

Then they returned from India, and the rest as we know it...

“To me, a summary is something like: “gifted, disturbed boy with tremendous amount of drive to outrun a bad childhood discovers love for music and creative soulmate(s) and gives everything he has to become the most famous musician in the world, hoping it will make him happy. He does, but it doesn’t, and people who don’t have his best interests separate him from his friends, his creation and creative spark, and ultimately himself. He’s too screwed up by addiction, mental illness, and unaddressed traumas to change things, so he retreats further into addiction and mental illness, wishing he could somehow regain his lost spark. He makes a few halfway steps toward doing so, but they’re not enough, and ultimately he is killed in front of his apartment building where, 24 hours later, his wife installs the man she had been sleeping with behind his back.”"

— Michael Bleicher, The Artist as a Dissipated Man: Fred Seaman’s “The Last Days of John Lennon.”

Right, so both John and Paul made their choices in life. Some choices and decisions that we as fans and outside observers might never be able to understand, or agree with.

But who’s to say Paul (and John), couldn’t, didn’t, or don’t regret those choices and decisions? 

I get what you’re saying, I understand. Why can’t Paul move on? He made his choices, why is it 40, 50 years later, that Paul can’t just let John go? Let sleeping dogs lie, all that.

Because Paul loved John, still loves John, to this day. 

Because, clearly Paul has some regrets. He regrets how things were handled during the Divorce. He regrets not hugging John enough. He regrets not telling John, when he had the chance and time, that he loved him (and without the help of alcohol) When you love someone so deeply, and suddenly, without warning, they’re taken from you and the world, you regret a lot, and you miss what could have been, the ‘What if’s.’ 

Paul said that what he and John were, were soulmates. I don’t know how it feels to lose a soulmate. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to know how it feels to get the opportunity to love and be around them. 

How awful do you think it is to meet your soulmate, but you cannot freely love them? Can’t just, be, with them? Not in just one way, bestmates, legendary partners, but, as everything that the word Soulmate brings along and includes with it? 

That God decided to have them be of the same sex, during a time where it was illegal to love and be with someone of the same sex, and could even be a potential death sentence to be assumed or thought of as a ‘queer.’ 

So, you take whatever you can with them. 

Then that isn’t enough. One grows restless, desperate for more. It can’t happen, not realistically, not without consequences of varying degrees. 

Strain, miscommunication to none. They communicate through a musical, artistic language which just isn’t enough. Drugs, alcohol, mental illness and emotional turmoil, it’s all too much. It breaks. Soulmates are still flawed human beings. 

You have people who work to purposefully pin them against each other. Parasites and piggybackers. 

A nasty divorce and breakup between two lovers that never were.

And then, after ten years, it’s happening. You two are talking again, things are tense and awkward still sometimes, but something’s changed. You’ve planned on reuniting, couldn’t do it this year, because the studio you wanted was booked. So you plan for after the New Year. 

Then, your soulmate is killed. Just, taken away from you, like nothing. Violently and suddenly. And all the possibilities... The time... Gone. Ripped away from both of you.

I can’t blame Paul for not letting go. I can’t say I’d ever be able to understand the sort of pain and heartbreak he experienced. He still goes through it! It’s still there. He’s just learned how to manage it a bit better. 

I’d say it’s more pathetic then it is annoying— and I don’t mean it in a way to insult Paul. I really don’t. Because John was just as pathetic when it came to his obvious obsession, desire, and love for Paul, too. 

Love, that kind of soul-deep love, it can make you pathetic and hopeless. And it’s not something you can just... let go for good. 

Wanting, or expecting Paul to let go of John for good... Firstly would be impossible, and secondly, how do you let go of a soulmate? John is a part of Paul, whether some like it or not. Can’t really have one without the other. 

Can’t have Lennon without McCartney, and vice-or-versa. Forever intertwined, are they.

[beatles-slash-fiction]

An innocent cuddle between 2 best friends turns into passionate love making, Mclennon please

John sighs as he slumps down on the sofa, rubbing his temples tiredly.

“What a fucking day,” he sighs, watching Paul fumble through the mini-bar in their hotel room. “I feel like shit.”

“Me too.” Paul tosses the older man a small bottle of something alcoholic. “These last few weeks....I dunno. I thought it was just me. I’ve been feeling so tired and low. I just feel like...touring doesn’t really do it for me, y’know?”

He sits next to John and downs his own bottle, their thighs touching.

It really has been a tough few weeks. They talk about how they hate the constant moving and their anxieties over their security concerns, not to mention the exhaustion of constant performing.

“I feel like a prisoner in my own life,” Paul says sadly, his eyes shining.

He looks like he’s on the verge of tears, and John has never seen him like that before.

It feels completely natural to wrap an arm around Paul and pull him close, and it feels nice when Paul rests his head on John’s shoulder and wraps an arm around his waist. It feels good to be able to comfort him like this, and it just opens the floodgates for them to start talking about how unhappy they are.

“If if weren’t for you, I probably would have quit by now,” Paul says quietly.

John feels the same. Any band without Paul wouldn’t be a band worth being in.

Their eyes meet for just a second, and then they’re leaning in to brush their lips together.

John’s heart is pounding in his chest as he deepens the kiss, holding Paul in his arms and wondering why the hell they haven’t done this before.

Paul is flushed when they part, and John is just about to apologise when the younger man straddles his lap and fastens their lips together again.

This is probably the end of their friendship, but John doesn’t care.

With some effort he stands, supporting Paul under his bum as Paul wraps his legs around John’s waist, and John carries him to the bed.

They tear at each other’s clothes, and John can’t quite believe this is happening.

They’re behaving like they’re teenagers. When they’re naked, John can’t even be bothered to search for a condom and lube, so they just rut against each other, rubbing their erections together and kissing like a pair of virgins

He still can’t believe this is happening. They’re not even really fucking and yet it’s probably the best sex John has ever had.

It feels incredible to be so intimate with Paul, even if they are just acting like a couple of horny teenagers.

When it’s over, Paul smiles at John warmly and kisses him again, ignoring the mess they’ve made to tangle their legs together.

“I feel a lot better now,” Paul says softly.

John has to agree.

[mclennonlgbt]

Walls and Bridges is a pretty fruity album, if you think about it

According to Wikipedia: "Walls and Bridges is the fifth studio album by English musician John Lennon. It was issued by Apple Records on 26 September 1974 in the United States and on 4 October in the United Kingdom". We also learn that the album was being recorded between July and September, 1974.

Let's look at the circumstances under which Walls and Bridges was created. It was during the "Lost Weekend". John left Yoko/she kicked him out for 18 months and he was living with May Pang in Los Angeles. He was drinking too much (which his buddy Harry Nilsson urged him to do), he was missing his wife, BUT the "Lost Weekend" also had a lot of positives.

Let's see:

John, at May's suggestion, finally renewed his relationship with Julian. The latter remembers this period as the best time he had ever spent with his father.

Lennon and Elton John became huge friends (Elton called this relationship as a "whirlwind romance"), they recorded a song together ("Whatever gets you thru the night") and made a performance at Madison Square Garden.

John finally could meet Paul quite at ease, not being controlled by Yoko (and also encouraged by May). On March 28, Lennon and McCartney jammed together at the club in LA, the first and last time since the Beatles break-up. In addition, one day the four of them (John, Paul, Linda and May) met. Linda asked: "Don't you miss London?", and Lennon replied: "Frankly, I miss Paris" (we all know what Paris means to McLennon theory).

Let's sum it up: Lennon spent a lot of time with Elton, gay (at the time he was 28, and he realized his sexual orientation at about 23 yo), and a musician connected to the glam rock scene (and glam rock is inherently queer). I guess that Elton knew or at least suspected what John feels towards Paul. And let's remember that at that time Lennon was coming to terms with his bisexuality which he already signaled in 1972. In 1974 John interviewed himself for Andy Warhol's Interview Magazine to promote Walls and Bridges. Here comes the question: "Have you ever fucked a guy?". The response: "Not yet, I thought I’d save it til I was 40, life begins at 40 you know, tho I never noticed it". Further dialogue: "Q. It is trendy to be bisexual and you’re usually 'keeping up with the Jones’, haven’t you ever… there was talk about you and PAUL… A. Oh, I thought it was about me and Brian Epstein… anyway I’m saving all the juice for my own version of THE REAL FAB FOUR BEATLES STORY etc.. etc..". The interview is full of queer references, for example the "journalist" asks John if he likes glitter.

John must have thought a lot about Paul at that period, and not in a purely platonic way. Announcing "I saw her standing there" at his and Elton's concert, he said: "And we thought we do another number of an old enstraged fiancee of mine, called Paul". Tony King stated that Lennon often referred to McCartney that way.

And now look at the songs.

Bless You: “In a way, it’s about Yoko and I, and in a way it’s about a lot of couples or all of us who go through that, whatever it’s called, love experience".

Steel and Glass has How do you sleep? melody. IMO it's another Paul reference.

Beef Jerky repeats Let me roll it riff.

Whatever gets you thru the night is a clear allusion to tolerating others, including LGBT people. "Whatever gets you through the night, it's all right, it's all right" - it reminds me of John's rhyme for the Gay Liberation Book (1972): "Why make it sad to be gay? Doing your thing is okay. Our bodies our own so leave us alone and play with yourself - today".

Here are my thoughts. What is your opinion? Cheers :3

[mithranqueersmusings]

The Night Before XIV

Chapter: 14/15

Rating: E

Summary: Ringo hangs around after the club closes and meets a stranger.

Tags: Smut, Slow Burn

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Ringo didn't know where to look first, his eyes entirely overwhelmed by the display of erotica laid out before him. George was tied to the bed, one hand remaining free for obvious reasons, completely naked except from some sheer stockings. That would've been enough to bring Ringo to his knees, but there was more. A small remote lay on George's toned stomach which Ringo quickly realised controlled the vibrator which was snugly buried inside George. Ringo had never seen such a debauched display, taking a few steps closer into the room he saw a ring of metal around George's already hard shaft. To top it all off, a red gagball was pressed between his lips, muffling any noise he tried to make. Exactly how he had been able to do all this in such a short amount of time, Ringo had no clue, but he wasn't about to start questioning things.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Ringo breathed, his eyes growing dark with hunger.

George struggled to meet Ringo's gaze from his position on the bed, having to crane his neck uncomfortably, but there wasn't much communication needed. He lifted his free hand and beckoned Ringo closer with his slender finger.

Ringo moved over slowly to the head of the bed, allowing himself to indulge in the sight of George's face: his eyes had watered a little already, his skin sporting pink undertones and his lips spread so perfectly. Kinky was never a word Ringo would use to describe himself, but he was beginning to understand that would've been a mistake, because something stirred deep inside him knowing George was all his, to do with whatever he pleased. He rubbed his thumb on George's outstretched bottom lip, feeling the spit that had gathered there. George leaned in to the touch as best he could, his moan distorted by the gag which only made it sound richer and more enticing.

"I don't even know where to begin." Ringo had intended the comment to sound light, but his mind was far too clouded.

George gestured with his free hand to signal that Ringo needed to finish what he'd been incapable of. The restraints seemed to go underneath the bed, a more elaborate contraption than Ringo had ever seen, his mind began to wander as to how many times George had presented himself like this to other men, no matter how many it had been now it was Ringo's turn. He traced his fingers along the veins of George's arm before shackling it to the bed, determined to drive him as crazy as possible.

Ringo picked up the remote, circling back to the end of the bed to get a better view of George's stuffed entrance. There were only a few buttons, which was a relief to Ringo who'd never even used a vibrator before. He decided to experiment, pressing the first button which turned it on gradually, George let out a wanton moan as he struggled against his restrains. The second sent vibrations out in spurts with seemingly no regular rhyhtm, making George twitch each time.

"Fuck... You look so gorgeous, George." Ringo cooed, sliding himself inbetween his spread legs "Letting me use you like this, I never knew you could be so filthy."

Running his finger around George's entrance teasingly, Ringo pressed the third button which sent the vibrations in waves, building up to a point of intensity then rolling back down into nothing. George really began to squirm, his cock twitching against his stomach in desperate need of attention. Ringo had almost forgotten about the cock ring, he'd never even seen one before in real life.

"Bet you could cum right now, couldn't you?" Ringo discarded the remote, allowing the vibrator to continue abusing George's hole "But you don't want to, not unless I allow you to."

George thrust his hips upwards as best he could, longing for any form of contact, his eyes hooded and dark. Ringo moved his hand upwards, tracing along George's hot skin before he gripped onto his cock. The noises pouring from George's mouth were shameless, only growing more wanton as Ringo began stroking teasingly slow. Ringo caught George's eye as he sank his mouth downwards, his tongue circling the head before he engulfed the entire length. George practically screamed out, his hands gripping at the restraints to ease some of the overwhelming ectsasy. Ringo let out a menacing laugh, still busying his mouth with George's already leaking cock.

Ringo surprised himself with how easily he leaned in to the dominant persona, it was hard not to when George was giving himself up so willingly.

"Such a good little slut." Ringo purred, his hand gripping around the base of the vibrator and beginning to pump it slowly "I could slide my cock inside you so easily, you'd like that wouldn't you?"

George nodded, his eyes filled with tears. Ringo quickened his hand, forcing George to struggle in vain. It was no surprise that Ringo was rock hard, he slid out of his boxers and stroked himself lazily. He knew he could tease George like this all night, but there was only so much Ringo could punish himself.

"You want my cock?" Ringo teased, straddling George as he pressed their cocks together "You want it buried in that tight arse of yours?"

As enticing as George's muffled moans were, Ringo couldn't deny that he missed hearing George's depraved responses to his teasing. He reached to undo the gag, it wasn't the most gentle attempt but George didn't seem to care. The look in George's eye as Ringo removed it from his mouth was mesmerising, the strings of spit stretching out made the whole thing look utterly pornographic. Ringo groaned, lowering his mouth down onto George for a few deep kisses.

"So pretty." Ringo hummed, pressing his thumb into George's mouth which he accepted eagerly "I'm not gonna fuck you just yet, not until I've used this mouth."

"Please... I want it." George pleaded, his voice completely shot "I wanna taste your cock, Ringo."

No further encouragement was needed. Ringo had to shuffle a little awkwardly on the bed to align himself with George's mouth, the position wasn't ideal but there was no way either of them could wait any longer. Just to mix things up a little, Ringo turned on the second setting of the vibrator so that George would unexpectedly jolt upwards with pleasure, Ringo only hoped it wouldn't get his teeth too heavily involved.

George's mouth was wet and welcoming, Ringo slid his cock inside with no resistance. He was starting to think that he should've worn a cock ring too, because he wouldn't be able to last as long as he'd like.

"Shit, George..." Ringo panted as he began pulling his cock out "You're gonna be the death of me."

Ringo had no idea how George was able to even remain conscious through all this, his cock desperate for release yet constantly being denied the pleasure, his wrists and ankles growing red with friction and his mouth being fucked without being able to stop it, not that he'd ever want to. To start with Ringo thrust slowly, rolling his hips into the heat of George's mouth, grunting as he fought the temptation to fuck into him ruthlessly. The two of them looked into one another's eyes the entire time, it was impossible to even look away. George's eyes would flutter or roll as Ringo began quickening his thrusts but they'd always return to gaze back at Ringo, dark with lust and pure want.

"Taking me so well, aren't you?" Ringo rubbed his hand tenderly on George's cheek "Been waiting for my cock all evening. Waiting for me to fuck you like the dirty slut you are."

George moaned around Ringo's cock, opening this throat entirely as the pace grew harsh and unforgiving. Ringo felt his orgasm brewing in his groin, he only wished he'd be able to release himself now but he had other plans.

"Fuck I'm getting close..." Ringo admitted, slowing his thrusts only slightly "I don't even need to ask if you're ready for my cock, I know you are. Know how hungry you are for it."

Ringo reluctantly removed himself from George's mouth, tapping the head of his cock on the flatness of George's outstretched tongue. He was already so close, he cursed himself for not being able to last longer.

George practically cooed when the vibrator was taken out, leaving his hole wet and gaping. Ringo groaned at the sight, tracing his tongue around the outside.

"I can't take it anymore." George whined, struggling once again against his restraints "Put your cock in me Ringo, I need it."

Ringo chuckled darkly "You think you deserve it? You have been so good for me, so willing."

"Yes, yes, I do!" George cried out, the look in his eyes absolutely wild "Been so fucking good for you, such a good little slut."

"Took the words right out my mouth." Ringo hummed, lining himself up with George's entrance "How many guys have you let fuck you like this? You'd do anything for some cock, wouldn't you?"

George tried to speak but was completely silenced when Ringo thrust inside without further warning, all the way to the base. Both of them had to pause for a moment, to gather their thoughts and senses entirely. Ringo gripped at George's gaunt face, forcing him to look at him.

"I asked you a question." Ringo grunted, pulling himself out slowly.

"I- Fuck!" George screamed out again.

"Don't lie to me." Ringo worried he was taking things too far, but George only seemed to be enjoying it more and more.

"So many, I've lost count..." George breathed "Don't even care who it is, as long as they'll fuck me nice and rough."

"Dirty boy." Ringo laughed, struggling to keep his composure as he thrust inside once more.

"I am, I am." George rambled "Do anything for your big cock inside me, Ringo. Can't wait to feel your cum trickling down my thighs.

Ringo almost growled, his other hand gripping George's hip as he began fucking him without remorse. George wailed, his moans bordering on screams as his expression was almost vacant, so completely overwhelmed with pleasure.

"I want you to cum for me George." Ringo instructed, his fingers tracing over the metal of the cock ring "Can you do that for me? Then I'm gonna fill you up, nice and deep."

George could only manage a nod, his words entirely unintelligible as Ringo slid the ring off.

"That's it." Ringo encouraged, his hand switching from George's hip to his aching cock, jerking him off sloppily to bring him to the edge.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" George called out as he came, shooting over Ringo's hand and over his stomach.

Ringo acted fast, using all the remaining energy in his body to fuck into George mercilessly, spilling moans from his lips as he buried his cock as deep as he could manage while his own orgasm washed over him. George was still twitching with pleasure as Ringo spilled himself inside, his mind was completely blank, all he could do was feel.

His body gave out entirely, dropping all of his weight down onto George as he slowly recovered. A sheen of sweat covered both of their bodies, breath escaping from their mouths in quick pants.

Ringo didn't want to move, but he knew if he didn't things would only get more uncomfortable and considerably grosser. He pulled out of George carefully, his tenderness returning without much thought. George let out a gasp at the feeling, a final moan parting his lips as Ringo's cum began spilling out onto the sheets.

"Fucking hell." Ringo would've been more aroused if he wasn't currently so depleted, but he couldn't deny that the sight was beyond erotic.

"Enjoyed your present then?" George asked, his voice even rougher than before.

Ringo smiled sweetly down at him "Do you even have to ask?"

[themagicalmysticalboy]

Hi. Can I request hurt!John story? I thought it could be based on his car accident in 1969 but let's change some details of it - he was driving alone and ended up seriously injured. You can begin with Paul and the others arriving to the hospital after receiving the news... or whatever you choose 😉. So angsty story with some mclennon (but not necessarily; they can be just friends).

a/n: the thought of writing yoko has kept me from ever writing this request. But imma write it and pretend she doesn’t exist 😜. also I have no self control so this story goes through a lot more than just Paul showing up at the hospital hehehe

Nobody has to guess that baby can't be blessed/‘Til he finally sees that he's like all the rest/ With his fog, his amphetamine, and his pearls

He Breaks Just Like a Little Boy

John had thought himself rather fond of Scotland. He had visited many times before for pleasant vacations and stops to meet family. But in all these years and through all his visits he had never actually driven its roads, having the luxury of a driver. On his solo trip, he remembered exactly why his arrangements were as such.

The sky was dripping with fog that crept down from the foothills, reaching out with thick claws that effortlessly encapsulated the road. The small apertures between the paws of fog were filled with mist that left sheens of dew across the windshield. With his wipers going at a steady metronome's pace he flipped between high and low beams, unsure which way was worse. Mimi had surely told him the correct answer but his nerves and general troubles with driving had him dumbfounded. 

The road ahead appeared completely deserted so he had no concerns with continuing to flip back and forth. The distraction of the lights left room for error in the ways of speed. He was pushing 20 over the determined limit. In these conditions the absence of a speedometer, or in the event of ignoring one, it was impossible to determine how fast the world outside was passing by. John kept at his pace, even when he had settled to keep his lights on low beams.

In his vain attempt to see more than two meters ahead, he hunched forward with squinting eyes and tense muscles. Music was playing at an almost unperceivable volume, turned down multiple times over the course of the descent into fog.

Entering another aperture of mist, he relaxed, letting himself blink properly and his fingers release from their bleached white grip on the steering wheel. Once his eyes had opened again, a set of disembodied lights sent him rigid. His senses were set on blast: eyes wide open and bursting with color, the taste of copper coating his mouth, the smell of his leather interior and cigarettes somehow amplified. The intense sensations did nothing to harbor a coherent plan.

He reacted on gut instinct as the lights were backed by the shape of a car. Horn blaring, he jerked the wheel to the side. It was almost instantaneous that his stomach jumped to his throat, body leaving the seat to press harshly into the seatbelt. He was a feather made of lead.

**

In the late hours of the morning, Paul finished readying himself for a trip into town. He grabbed up his keys and wallet and made for the door. Before his escape could be made, the phone rang. He lowered his lids and shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to decide if he should answer it. With a resigned roll of the eyes, he jogged to the phone. 

The words that came through the line left no room for pleasantries, throwing blades that sliced through his reality and let it drain from around him. Pressure built against his skin with each sentence, heart pounding through his limbs.

His voice was void of emotion when he asked, “Have you told the others?”

“You’re the first I’ve called,” Cynthia replied. Cynthia. That's who was talking. Paul had not even processed her voice.

“Okay.”

He hung up, one arm left limp at his side as he gnawled at his fingernail. The world was not coming back to him. It had bled out and left him stranded, unable to move or react. Echoes of what Cynthia had said reverberated off the walls and assaulted his ears.

“... an accident… He’s in surgery… They don’t know if…if…”

Everything ushered back into color like a punch to the gut, leaving him stumbling into actuality. He fell into a chair and caught his breath.

 He had to get to him. He had to leave.

Rushing back to the phone, he threw together the fastest trip to Durness humanly possible. The trip, though only an hour and change by plane, was excruciating. Void of distraction, or want of, Paul was shedding strings of sanity like a dog’s winter coat. Nothing was fast enough until it suddenly was all too quick.

Once in the last leg of his journey, a small taxi cab, he began to dread the thought of arriving. Though still a few miles away, the antiseptic smell of the hospital was already pungent in his nose. The cramped waiting spaces and grim reality would tug and drag on his psyche. 

And he was not proven wrong. He had arrived first but it wasn’t long before George and Ringo filed in. They all shared anxious glances upon entering the private room they were ushered to but didn’t speak a word.

George ended up slumped in a seat, head in hands, as Paul stood and tapped his foot, his mind still shifting in and out of focus. It was Ritchie that had broken the eerie stillness. He was biting down hard on his lip, pacing the room. As if he had just realized the other two existed, he jumped when his path crossed Paul’s.

Paul’s eyes were dead in their sockets but Ritch’s pinged over his face with something desperate that made Paul want to conjure a sort of reassurance. He fell severely short, only able to muster a thin lipped hint of empathy.

George came in for the save. Paul, too engrossed in his own turmoil, barely noticed him getting up and moving towards them. He took Ringo into a tight hug that was warmly reciprocated. They both breathed in one another before breaking. He patted Rich on the shoulder then turned to Paul.

He hadn’t the heart to tell his friend he’d rather be left alone and was consequently enveloped into his arms. And maybe it was for the best he had not stopped him. Something calming and familiar shallowed a hole in his heart. George’s ever-comforting presence should never be put to question. He hugged George back with a grim intensity that surprised himself. It cracked a dam but did not break it.

“Don’t lose hope.” With that the hug was broken, leaving Paul with a warm heart and cold body.

In time, they all sat together on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, backs to the wall. Coffee cups and ashtrays were all around. The TV that sent extra illumination to the room was widely ignored, set at a low volume. At some point, a doctor had come in to update them. John was under close watch but out of surgery. It hadn’t done much to put anyone at ease but it drove in the hope George was keen to stoke. 

So they kept at their quiet conversations and heavy silences. The atmosphere was so odd. No one was bringing up the band dissolving. No one was arguing. Instead, a rather blissful suffering blanketed the room. At an excruciating crawl, night was arriving, the sky drifting from blue to inky black. 

Everyone was growing tired from their adrenaline crash, staring at nothing with half lidded eyes. Ringo had taken the plunge and was asleep on Paul’s shoulder. Paul’s arm was wrapped around George and George was slumped back to stare at the ceiling.

With a steady knock at the door, they were startled back to life. As the doctor came in, the three rose to their feet with varying speed.

“Good evening-”

“He’s alright, yeah? Can we see him?”

“We’ll get there, Mr. Harrison.” The doctor collected himself and looked over a messy chart. “Mr. Lennon is recovering as expected. I can’t go into detail, seeing as you aren’t blood, but his injuries were less serious than we first thought.” He looked up at the trio. “He’s asking for visitors in the morning. Have you any idea of relatives arriving?”

“His aunt, at the very least. I’d assume his son and ex-wife as well,” Paul answered cordially.

“I’ll let him know, then. Now, if you wish, you may sleep here. Blankets and pillows can be gathered. But there is a hotel only a mile away.”

They looked between one another and came to a silent agreement. “We’ll stay.” The luxury of comfort would gladly be dispensed of.

Sleeping in the cold and bare room sent Paul back in time. He felt 18 again, sleeping in a backroom in Germany with George nearby and Ringo in the place of John. At least he’d been able to sleep easier then- full of beer and dead tired from performing. Now, it took a long time but sleep finally crept into his eyes.

Though Paul was the last to sleep, he was also the first to wake. He gathered coffee and fresh carts of cigarettes before George or Ringo so much as stretched. As he waited for them to wake, he watched the news. At the moment, the camera was pointed to frame an audience gathered with candles and signs. All with well wishes to John scribbled and painted across them. 

“Have we traveled back to ‘63?” Ringo’s voice was full of sleep as he pulled himself off the floor.

Paul was glad to learn he was not the only one feeling the blast from the past. With a nod of acknowledgment, he poured Ringo a cup of coffee from the side table. Leaning back in his seat, he handed him the cup. Ringo pulled a cigarette from his pocket before taking it and mumbled a “Ta.”

It wasn’t long before George woke as well, leaving them staring at the TV that switched between actual news and coverage of the crowd outside.

“Think John’s enjoying this?”

“Think? I know. Deserves the treat of it, anyroad.” Paul huffed.

“We’ll find him off his head with pain meds waving from the window if he’s left alone too long.”

“Flashing the crowd with the backless gown on his way to bed.”

Lifting their spirits with some senseless banter, the wait for their turn to see John was less dreadful. Any bittersweetness, though, drained from Paul’s being when it came time to actually see John. Much like the journey to the hospital, the tail end of his wait for John was coming all too quickly.

They were filed out of the small room and his heart was fading with every step. It did not want to leave the strange safety of the room and Paul could not blame it. It was set and done and nothing dangerous happened. Now he was ushered into a terribly galvanizing and risky endeavor of a fresh space and unknown circumstances. As the door came to view, his heart fast tracked to full opacity and shot into his throat.

George and Ringo looked so painfully normal in comparison to how Paul felt. Surely all they were thinking of was how happy they were to see John. Not how scary it might be to see him broken. Not how one word could fuck everything up. 

The desire to pivot on the spot and run was shamefully present when the doctor held the door for them. Paul was last in line and heard the cheery greeting from Ringo before so much as seeing the foot of the bed. 

His eyes darted down to stare at George’s heels as he entered the threshold, following their path until he found a seat. Paul meandered in, jumping when the door shut behind him. He stopped in his tracks. 

“Glad the guests could finally be bothered to gather. Now the party can really start.”

With the sound of John’s voice pulling at his chest, Paul finally looked up to find him staring directly at him. He was right there, covered in scratches and bandages. There was a cast on his arm, a bruise over his eye, and a large swath of gauze peeking from the neck of his gown. His face was blushed with color, nonetheless, looking as alive as ever. When he truly looked at John he found himself wanting to cry. Why? He couldn’t have explained it to anyone but he knew the feeling swirling inside. He bit down on the inside of his cheek and gave a thin lipped smile.

“Think you’ve done enough partying without us,” Ringo said while he sat at the only other seat in the room, leaning an elbow on the bed. A smile was splashed across his face.

George leaned back pleasantly. “This is why I never let you touch my car, you know.”

John huffed. “I don’t think I’ll be touching a steering wheel ever again.”

The words were all lost on Paul. He couldn’t stop staring into John’s eyes until he finally broke contact to speak with George. Feeling uneasy in the center of the room, Paul moved to the wall, looking John up and down until he’d memorized every cut and bruise. His fingers were filled with pulsing blood, the sensation gathering up his arms as the moments passed.

No one looked at him or asked him anything. He was just a fly on the wall, chewing on his nail. So there was no warning when George and Ringo stood up. Paul jolted back to reality and stood up straight, ready to follow them out.

“Can you stay?”

”Hmm?” Blinking wildly, Paul noticed John was speaking to him.

“We’ll be back in the prison cell,” Ringo quipped before shutting the door on them.

The urge to sob spiked again. He gulped down the lump in his throat and let out a shaky breath. “Hi.”

“I look that ghastly, do I?”

Paul stared at his awkwardly shuffling feet and offered a breathy laugh. “No.” His voice cracked with the single word and burning tears sent pins into his eyes. Something in the moment sent his dam crumbling down.

Alone with John, he found absolutely no reason to hold back. So he didn’t bother. Fully absorbed by his presents, he took long strides to the now empty seat, falling into it. Without losing John’s gaze, he gently took his hand, feeling the rough cuts as he rubbed circles over the back.

Tears tracked down his face. His lip quivered. His heart brimmed full like a tidal wave crashing to shore.

“Hi,” he said again, this time with a voice damp with dejection. He sniffled with a painful smile stretching the corners of his mouth, threatening to rip from the center. He reached out to brush John’s hair from his face with a shaking hand. “You scared me, y’know?”

John pulled his hand away and Paul could feel the tidal wave retreating. He sucked in an aching breath. Rejection.

It all came back, though, when John held the side of his face, losing his fingers in Paul’s hair. “I’m sorry.”

With a fickle laugh, Paul nuzzled his head closer to John’s hand. “Don’t apologize- not for that.”

John’s head tilted as he pet Paul’s hair. “‘Bout thought you didn’t want me any longer. Seeing me all banged up and bruised. And that stare of yours. That should be categorized as some sort of weapon.”

A soft cry, that was supposed to be a laugh, rose from his throat. He leaned forward, hovering over the seat, and gently kissed John’s chapped lips. John fully reciprocated, fingers gripping his hair ever so slightly.

When they parted, poignantly slow, Paul swung his legs into the seat so he could comfortably rest his head on John’s shoulder. “I don’t think I can ever stop wanting you.” His fingers ghosted circles over John’s heart. With a concerted effort, he tried to be as gentle as possible with his battered lover.

They sat in sweet silence as John burrowed his cheek into the top of Paul’s head.

“Really though, was it that scary? Seeing me like this? You didn’t even speak when the other lads were in.”

More tears were threatening to close Paul’s throat. He gripped John’s blanket. “I thought I was scared to see you. But I don’t think I was. I was scared of myself more, y’know?”

“Can’t say I do.”

Paul pulled the blanket up to his chin. “I was afraid of messing up. I just blanked when I saw you hurt like this. I’ve never- I just want to do... New things. New things are scary.”

John rubbed his shoulder blade, soothing him to loosen up on the blanket. “And look at us now! Crying like babies all over each other.” John’s had traveled down to Paul’s bicep. “Guess we were both scared.”

“God. This wasn’t even the scariest bit- not by far. Getting that damned phone call. Thought the world was falling out from underneath me.”

John was kneading at Paul’s skin. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I thought I was never going to see you again,” He confessed. “Soon as the car went off the ledge, I could only see you and Julian in my head.” His voice was gruff and strained, muffled by Paul’s hair.

“It feels unreal, almost. After all this. Both of us in this room. Both alive. Lennon and McCartney, the dream team- or whatever bullocks.”

Paul felt the rumble of laughter in John’s chest and more tears poured out of him. He glanced down and noticed he was soaking the thin fabric of the gown. He almost felt bad but suspected that John’s tears were dampening his hair. Fairtrade.

“Yeah. Whatever bullocks.”

They quieted for a brief moment before Paul adjusted himself to be closer to John. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No.” A kiss graced the top of his head. “Can’t feel much with these painkillers, really. Besides, my shoulder’s not my biggest issue.”

Paul hummed curiously. 

“Go this real groovy gash down my chest,” sarcasm dripped from his tongue as he coaxed Paul off his shoulder to pull up the neck of his gown. “Here.”

A trail of gauze led down his chest and to his stomach, which was completely wrapped with the stuff. Paul wiped away his tears and peered a little further down. His brow raised and the corner of his mouth twitched. “Aye. At least your willy made it out in full form.”

“Off it,” John dragged out the words like a warning, pressing the patterned fabric to his chest. “Horn dog.”

Paul only giggled, pressing his lips to John’s again. John sighed into it before guiding Paul’s head back to his shoulder, fingers running through his hair.

Betrayed by his own mind, Paul thought back to that meeting. I want a divorce. He pulled in a harsh breath. They had drifted that day, so far from one another. Building it back had been painstaking and soul crushing. “I’ll never let you lose me again.”

“Really, now?”

“Yes.” His tone was serious. “You’re not allowed. Whether or not we’re cross with each other, we won’t lose one another, alright?”

John hummed into his hair. “Sounds fine to me.”

[bohemian-rhapsody-slash]

The Mclennon is making me so happy!!! You're a incredible writer. About this "They don’t admit their feelings to each until after their first proper fight. John makes a lot of jokes about their claim to journalists who ask about it, which makes Paul think that his Dom isn’t taking it seriously. He doesn’t want their claim to be a joke because to him it’s real, and that’s when they tell each other."When you have time,could you please elaborate more? I love this and would like to read this 'scene'

John can tell from the minute they get back to the hotel room that Paul is in a mood.

A bad one.

The sub pulls off his jacket and throws it carelessly on a chair, rather than hanging it up carefully like he usually would, before grabbing one of the tiny bottles of gin they’d snuck upstairs after the party last night.

“You gonna tell us what’s up then?” John asks, leaning against the wall as he watches the younger man down the contents of the bottle.

Paul frowns at the Dom. “What’s up? Are you joking? Were we just sitting in the same press conference?”

“Evidently not, as you seem to have a bee in your bonnet about something.”

John is trying to keep the mood light, but the look on Paul’s face is slightly terrifying, and he can sense an argument brewing.

“That whole bit you did when you were asked about our claim,” Paul says, his voice dangerously quiet. “Joking about how nice it is to have a good little sub to cook and clean for you. About how you always have to carry a leash in your pocket now.”

John had been joking, but hearing it repeated back to him like that makes him go a little red with shame. He must have sounded like every Dom Paul has ever been with.

“Look, I didn’t mean it to be like that,” John says, knowing that he sounds defensive. “You know that’s not how I think of you and how I think of subs-“

“I know that, John. It’s not that that’s bothering me. It’s just that you were asked three serious questions about our claim, and you didn’t give one serious answer. And it’s been like that in every interview we’ve done over the last couple of months.” Paul’s voice is almost a whisper now, his eyes wet. “Look, I get it...I know that if you’d had your choice, you wouldn’t have it this way. I’m really grateful that you claimed me to protect me. I am. But...hearing you joke about it like that, it makes me feel...like you’re not taking this seriously. Like our claim is one big joke.”

Paul’s shoulders slump, and John wants to hug him, but he suspects he might get a punch in the jaw if he tried it.

“I’m sorry,” John says quietly. “I can try and be more convincing next time.”

And that really seems to get Paul going.

The sub’s bottom lip trembles and his eyes are shining with tears.

“That’s the thing,” Paul says shakily. “This whole claim is a joke. It’s a charade. I thought I could do it, John, but I can’t. I thought this might turn into something real, that maybe you might really-“ He swallows, blinking back tears. “But clearly you don’t. And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life like this. I’d rather you unclaim me.”

That hits John right in the heart.

“Don’t be daft,” John says, his own voice trembling. “If I unclaimed you, every Dom at the label would be bending you over their desk. I wouldn’t want to be a part of The Beatles if it meant having to watch you do that. Neither would George or Ringo.”

Paul shrugs, folding his arms, the tears now falling. “I don’t want to have to make you pretend, John. I love you, but I don’t want to be in a loveless claim.”

I love you.

I don’t want to be in a loveless claim.

All this time. All this time John thought he was the only one.

“You love me?” John parrots.

Paul laughs bitterly and nods. “Yeah and I’m a stupid git for it.”

John swallows, his heart suddenly pounding. “A loveless claim? Is that what you think this is?”

Their eyes meet, and Paul suddenly looks a little uncertain.

John takes two big strides over to the younger man before cupping his face, brushing Paul’s tears from his cheekbones with his thumbs.

“Because that’s not what this is to me,” John says softly, and then he leans in to brush his lips gently against Paul’s. “Yes, we arranged this claim to protect you. But I’ve been in love with you since we were stupid awkward teenagers, and this is a bloody dream come true for me.”

Paul looks at him with wide eyes for a moment, as if he’s trying to figure out if this is another joke, but then he’s smashing his lips against John’s. There’s far more passion in this kiss this time- far passion than any of their previous kisses. John backs Paul up against the wall, kissing him with all the energy he can muster, because he can never again let Paul think this is a loveless claim.

And then they’re tearing at each other’s clothes, and John’s dick is twitching with interest because it’s never been like this before. Every coupling between them so far has been pre-meditated, a little awkward. The kind of sex you have in an arranged claim.

But this. There’s fire here.

When they’re naked, John lifts the sub and pins him against the wall, smiling against Paul’s mouth as the younger man wraps his legs around his waist.

“You really want me then?” Paul whispers, pupils blown wide.

“Aye.” John licks the skin above Paul’s collar. “Love you Paulie. Don’t ever want you to think otherwise. You’re my sub and I love you.”

“John,” Paul sighs his head thumping back against the wall as the Dom licks at his nipples.

John turns and throws his sub onto the bed, fumbling for the lube in one of the bedside drawers.

They make love like this is their first time, and in a way it is. Their understanding of their relationship, of each other, has changed now.

And if John spends the rest of his life in a claim like this, then maybe he’ll allow himself to be a bit more conventional and give Paul the happiness he deserves.