That Kitchen Glass
Title: That Kitchen Glass
Author: Kathryn O
Pairing: John/Paul
Rating: PG-13
timeframe: very early days
Summary: What was that strange liquid in her kitchen glass that Patty witnessed John and Paul studying so intently?
Disclaimer: I have no idea what mischief Paul and John got up to when they went to Patty's house
That Kitchen Glass
My relationship with John was so special. I doubt he had a relationship quite like it where he shared so much of himself except maybe later with Yoko but then I’m getting ahead of myself.
He had really opened up with me. I told him my frustrations about both my parents being gone so much of the time. My father was always away at sea and my mom was a champion Ballroom dancer. She wasn’t around much either.
John once said to me after he lamented on how his father was gone most of his childhood and about his mother’s death just a little bit earlier, “Yeah, well at least you know where your parents are.”
I felt privileged that he had opened up with me so much. I learned quickly that the subject of John’s parents was taboo even among his closest male friends. Why he chose me to share his heart with I’ll never know, but I gladly took it and treated it with the best care I could give it. Even his best mate Paul who shared a common tragedy in the loss of the family matriarch didn’t bring the subject up with John much if at all.
Speaking of Paul, he got along well with all my girlfriends who were practically lined up ready to shag him. The fact that my house had a spare bedroom with no parental supervision for us young teens was what helped matters along. Paul had no qualms with John spending all his time with me, even if he sort of was cheating on Cynthia in a way. Paul kept whatever opinions on that to himself as long as he could use the spare room when he needed it. As a result, I got to see a lot of both of them outside the club.
Despite his opening up to me, I did think there were still certain aspects of John’s personality that he still kept quite covered up around me. Over the decades later I would hear whispered words like, “Gay,” and as decades changed, “Bisexual,” and I was able to ignore it at first. He seemed to like my body enough and I know I wasn’t his exclusive bird.
I heard a few rumors of him with that manager they had. Just rumors and jokes at the time that I was a bit too young to understand. It’s true their manager was a bit older then the rest of us. He seemed out of place when he’d come into those clubs and stare at the boys from the sidelines. I heard lots of comments about him fancying John.
I really couldn’t see John going for a guy like that even if he did fancy guys himself. Especially not with other younger handsome hunks about, but then a guy could get himself really hurt or killed going that route, couldn’t he?
It was something I witnessed one night with his friend Paul that made me question how much of it was just mucking about and how much was an insight into a hidden world where boys had sex with each other. Paul being the object of John’s fancy made a lot more sense to me then that old manager did anyway. I’m not sure how I feel about that now that I’ve said it. I just couldn’t see John with that manager if he did turn out to prefer boys in the end. That manager was an old man.
What actually happened was this: The night started out pretty typical. Four of us, which included me, John, Paul and some shaggable dolly bird all headed back to my empty house and as soon as we got there, we split into two couples each in a bedroom. I was in my own room with John of course.
We didn’t start shagging right away. We weren’t like that. Our relationship was something special. We made ourselves comfortable on the bed but we always talked for a long while at first. John would read me his poems or show me his latest drawings or even strum something he just learned on his guitar just for me if he happened to bring it which was often.
So we were sitting on the bed lounging back into my pillows and stuffed animals when I heard the door in the spare room open with a loud creak and footsteps going down the stairs.
A female voice called out, “Bye, Patty. I just didn’t want to interrupt you two but I have to go.” And then the front door opened and shut.
Judging by the movements we still heard downstairs, Paul was lurking around.
Both John and I looked at each other with wide eyes. Something had obviously happened and it wasn’t like Paul to send a pretty girl running off. I know John’s done it more then once, but not Paul.
John sighed and got up off the bed. “I better go see what he did,” John said softly. I understood. This wasn’t any checking up on his buddy’s feelings because guys just don’t do that especially the ones around here. It was going to see if it was something worth making fun of Paul about later. I was a little curious myself to be honest. I’ve seen Paul break hearts but usually he got the panties off first.
I waited on my bed reading a book while John went downstairs. I could hear someone using the bathroom eventually but that was normal enough. I could hear low voices in my front parlor but not loud enough to even understand what they were talking about.
When they started to take a really long time, I decided to investigate. I opened my bedroom door and listened. I could hear them still in my front parlor so I crept down the stairs to see what they were up too. I smelled cigarettes but that was nothing unusual.
I wasn’t trying to be sneaky. I just figured since it was taking so long, whatever happened had to be sort of serious and I didn’t want to interrupt them.
I could see them from my stairs in my front parlor. Paul had a glass taken from my kitchen full of something he was holding in the light of our front lamp. He and John were studying it pretty intently.
My first thought was it was some sort of strange liquor that one of them pinched from some shop and they were getting brave enough to try it. That made sense. It didn’t explain why Paul’s bird ran off though.
“What do you think?” Paul asked John.
“I’m not sure,” John said while peering at the glass in the light. “I’ve had some of mine look much worse and it turned out I was okay. I’ve had some hardly change at all and it turned out I was in pretty bad shape.”
“But isn’t the rule if you can see through it you’re all right?” Paul asked.
“I don’t know anymore. I told you I turned out to be pretty bad off before when it didn’t even look that bad.”
Both of them were so intent upon that glass of liquor they didn’t even see me. I was going to make my presence known but at the same time, getting a chance to see them interact with each other alone without the usual distractions was fascinating.
“The problem is,” Paul said, “The lights in this house are sort of to dim to tell. This lamp isn’t very bright.”
John looked around. “There isn’t anything much brighter down here. Patty’s got one bright one in her room for reading. Maybe we should use that to see. How bad does it hurt?”
“Not bad, but it’s pretty consistent since last night and didn’t get any better today at all. It only started to hurt again when I was starting to get it on.”
Then John did something that totally startled me. “Does it hurt when I do this?” and he put his hand right on the crotch of Paul’s blue jeans. There was no mistaking what part of Paul’s body he was feeling through that thick cloth.
Paul just laughed. I half expected him to jump back and maybe even hit John. He didn’t do much of anything in reaction. “No,” he said. “It’s not hurting now.”
“Then how about when I do this?” and John looked down on that blue-jeaned crotch of his buddy and started to rub it with his fingers.
Paul moved his hips a bit and said, “Not much. Only a little. But I could use a wank or something right about now. This is all sort of frustrating.”
“That’s your own fault for sending your bird off,” John sneered.
“Well, I sort of had too. I just didn’t feel right when I knew something was wrong with me and she was all ready to get it on. I didn’t want her to get sick or something because of me. It’d been my fault and we both would have known it.”
John had kept rubbing Paul’s crotch. “Well, I can tell you have no problem getting your willie up. I can feel it getting hard.”
I put my hand over my mouth in a gasp. It was John who was making Paul hard and furthermore, Paul was letting him!
“Or course it’s getting hard,” Paul stated. “You keep doing what you’re doing and what do you think is going to happen?”
John sneered in that funny comical way he had. “You keep letting me go on like this and what do you think is going to happen?”
“I don’t want to mess up my jeans. I have to go home on the bus later.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Paul was silent as if he was thinking about the correct answer to that question. The whole time John’ fingers kept moving over a visible bulge on Paul’s left leg.
“No, it’s better then my own hand. But I still don’t want to mess up my jeans.”
John laughed. “I’m better then his own hand. That’s practically a declaration of love. You just warmed my heart, Paulie dear, more then you ever had before. And if you don’t want a mess in your jeans, how about taking them off?”
“Then, won’t you get it on your hand? I mean, just in case I’ve caught it for real?”
“That can happen?”
“I don’t know. But I know that Pink Eye can be spread that way.”
“How do you know that?”
“It happened in my house to me and my brother when we were younger. My mum worked in a hospital. She knew all about this stuff.”
“It’s a really sobering thought, isn’t it?” John looked down at his hand and it finally stopped moving over Paul’s crotch but he still kept touching it.
“Yeah. I’m not sure if these types of nasty diseases can be spread that way but do we really want to take a chance? Especially after what we all went through in Hamburg?”
John let out a long drawn out sigh as he finally withdrew his hand from Paul’s crotch. “No. I guess not. So, what’s your willie going to do then? He’s all excited and needs some action.”
“I guess I’ll go finish myself off in the bathroom or something then.”
“Well, at least let me recite some naughty limericks or something to you while you go at it then. It’ll be just like a wanking session.”
Paul laughed and said, “I guess you’re right about that.”
I decided I heard enough right then and there. I knew I couldn’t follow them into the bathroom and I didn’t want to listen through the door or something. I would probably have gotten caught and that would be awkward. I decided I had to be alone so I tip-toed back up to my room and after shutting my door, my head was spinning. I had seen John touch Paul on the dick, make it hard and Paul liked it.
True, it was technically through thick cloth and Paul did stop him from actually touching it bare. I also had heard about guys and their wanking sessions. One guy once said he had to have one before a date to keep him from jumping her in the club. They were sort of treating it like that, so maybe that’s all it was?
I mean, Paul’s bird had upped and left him for some odd reason. I can’t fault a guy for needing a toss off after something like that, can I?
I was standing over my bed lost in my thoughts when I heard footsteps coming up my stairs. I figured John was coming back up but when my bedroom door opened it was both him and Paul coming into my room.
“We need to use your brighter light,” John said to me by way of explanation.
He had that same glass of liquor in his hand. He set it down on my dresser, turned my brightest lamp on over my bed where I read, then held the glass to the light.
“I don’t know, Paul. I still can’t tell how clear it is. Maybe we need an unbiased opinion. Hey, Patty,” He asked to me, “Does this piss look cloudy to you or clear?”
I was taken aback by that question. “There’s what in my glass?”
“Piss. I mean urine. We need to tell if Paul’s piss is cloudy or clear and we sort of can’t because all your lamps are pretty dim.”
“You mean Paul peed in one of my glasses?” I gasped.
John kept waving his fingers around the glass ignoring me. “I don’t know, Paul. It’s bright but I can only sort of see through it. Maybe you better have Brian fix you up with some proper treatment this time.”
“I think you’re right. It’s starting to hurt a bit more now,” Paul replied.
I grabbed the glass from John and felt totally weird as I held it. “I’ve got to wash this thing out now! I can’t have my parents drinking from pee glasses.”
I took it down stairs without any more formality. I dumped Paul’s urine in the toilette and flushed. Trying to get some hot water of which there wasn’t much. I really used the soap and that wasn’t a luxury either in some respects. I couldn’t believe that what I mistook for liquor turned out to be them studying Paul’s pee in one of my drinking glasses! I could never have imagined anything so strange. Now I sort of had an understanding why Paul’s dolly-bird must have left. I can’t say I blamed her either.
While I was drying the glass off after washing it twice, John and Paul both came downstairs. Paul said his goodbyes and just left like it was no big deal. I saw him a lot in the clubs after that and it never came up again with him.
John hung around still talking to me and keeping me company and the rest of our night together was pretty typical and went as planned. That made up for the whole event.
But I had some nagging thoughts in the back of my head about him and Paul. For a while, I wondered if they were trying to be fags because of that manager of theirs. That could also be an explanation. It was something that John never shared with me if he ever liked a boy. I guess he was too busy juggling Cynthia, me and whoever else was around. When Cynthia got pregnant, it only complicated things. Getting famous only complicated them further.
As the years went by, I heard many rumor about John. Like I said before, words like Gay and Bisexual floated about. Yet, I saw him doing those things with Paul and to be honest, I’ve never heard such rumors about Paul going around ever. It always sort of confused me, I guess.
But then, Paul would have probably taken it for no big deal, just like he did with peeing in one of my glasses.