(Just Like) Starting Over - Part Two
My first Beatles fic! Tell me what needs to be fixed, etc.
It's mostly a J/P friendship fic, but if you wanna see it as a more-than-friends thing, it also works.
Disclaimer: The Beatles, their songs, lyrics, etc. are not mine (thanks for reminding me, now imma go cry in a corner now). This story is NOT real (though that'd be cool if it was), in fact its genre even has FIC included.
Rating: PG-13ish for some language that is not recommended for usage around yo mama
Warnings: G/ R vaguely pointed out (literally).
Summary: Takes place in 1966 (so far). Paul is avoiding John cuz he doesn't want to take LSD, or something of the sort, blah blah, just read it. : ) I can't really give much more away until you read this part. :)
But I CAN say that whereas the 1st pt was more of Paul's side of the story, this part is more of John's POV.
Enjoy!! :D
Part One can be found HERE
Part Two: And I Just Can’t Go On If You Won’t See Me - Mid 1966
It’d been precisely twenty-three days since he’d been in the same room with Paul. He wasn’t exactly sure why Paul was avoiding him, though he guessed it had something to do with something he said to him on a recent acid trip.
For a while, it seemed like John couldn’t have cared less whether or not his best mate was talking to him.
But lately, Paul’s absence in his life seemed to be weighing down his conscience.
John was always tired, yet he couldn’t sleep. He was spending countless late nights and early mornings arguing with himself, wondering whether to call Paul, and trying to figure out how to apologize for whatever it was he had done.
It was only yesterday, after nearly nine sleep-deprived days, that he had finally found his answer.
*
There was no avoiding John now that the clacking of his boots was growing almost deafening.
There was no crying in the corner or hiding behind his bass now (that was the only bad thing about having an adorable little Hoffner violin bass. Sure, it was sick and amazing and fab and gear, and whatnot, but when it came time for Hide and Seek, it wasn’t useful in the least bit.).
Now Paul would just have to stand up and face John like a man.
A girlishly cute little baby-faced man.
With his back still turned to the approaching John, Paul tried to steady his breath, feeling his whole body break out in a nervous sweat. It was taking forever for John to simply cross the room.
And just when Paul felt he couldn’t handle the anxiety any longer-
“I’m worried about those two. They don’t seem to be getting on well at all,” John joked casually, still making his way towards Paul. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the lads were waging a war against each other right now.”
Paul turned slowly to face a beaming John, who stood a few feet further from him than usual.
Laughing nervously, Paul decided to try and play along with John’s game. “Yeah, I reckon he carried those old drumsticks right out the door with him!”
“’Course he did! What, do you think I’m daft or something? He carries those things around everywhere these days-”
“Well, they loom large in his legend, John,” Paul quipped, smirking. “Those things could pass as weapons of mass-destruction. Poor George, he’ll be dead before breakfast this morning.” It was a little past tea time.
John nodded solemnly in agreement, his head bowed in mock grief.
Paul’s nervousness began to slowly creep in again, along with the silence that was drowning the room.
After a few long seconds, John cleared his throat pointedly, still staring at the floor.
“Erm, Paul… I wrote a song…” He looked embarrassed.
“Really? A song? Because I thought you’d written at least twenty by now,” Paul joked, feeling a bit daring.
John didn’t smile.
“Erm… well, this one’s... it’s a bit different… and, uh…the others might not like it… because, well…”
He finally met Paul’s eyes with a dead serious expression, which Paul very quickly mirrored.
“Because I wrote this song for you,” John finished quietly.
It's mostly a J/P friendship fic, but if you wanna see it as a more-than-friends thing, it also works.
Disclaimer: The Beatles, their songs, lyrics, etc. are not mine (thanks for reminding me, now imma go cry in a corner now). This story is NOT real (though that'd be cool if it was), in fact its genre even has FIC included.
Rating: PG-13ish for some language that is not recommended for usage around yo mama
Warnings: G/ R vaguely pointed out (literally).
Summary: Takes place in 1966 (so far). Paul is avoiding John cuz he doesn't want to take LSD, or something of the sort, blah blah, just read it. : ) I can't really give much more away until you read this part. :)
But I CAN say that whereas the 1st pt was more of Paul's side of the story, this part is more of John's POV.
Enjoy!! :D
Part One can be found HERE
Part Two: And I Just Can’t Go On If You Won’t See Me - Mid 1966
It’d been precisely twenty-three days since he’d been in the same room with Paul. He wasn’t exactly sure why Paul was avoiding him, though he guessed it had something to do with something he said to him on a recent acid trip.
For a while, it seemed like John couldn’t have cared less whether or not his best mate was talking to him.
But lately, Paul’s absence in his life seemed to be weighing down his conscience.
John was always tired, yet he couldn’t sleep. He was spending countless late nights and early mornings arguing with himself, wondering whether to call Paul, and trying to figure out how to apologize for whatever it was he had done.
It was only yesterday, after nearly nine sleep-deprived days, that he had finally found his answer.
*
There was no avoiding John now that the clacking of his boots was growing almost deafening.
There was no crying in the corner or hiding behind his bass now (that was the only bad thing about having an adorable little Hoffner violin bass. Sure, it was sick and amazing and fab and gear, and whatnot, but when it came time for Hide and Seek, it wasn’t useful in the least bit.).
Now Paul would just have to stand up and face John like a man.
A girlishly cute little baby-faced man.
With his back still turned to the approaching John, Paul tried to steady his breath, feeling his whole body break out in a nervous sweat. It was taking forever for John to simply cross the room.
And just when Paul felt he couldn’t handle the anxiety any longer-
“I’m worried about those two. They don’t seem to be getting on well at all,” John joked casually, still making his way towards Paul. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the lads were waging a war against each other right now.”
Paul turned slowly to face a beaming John, who stood a few feet further from him than usual.
Laughing nervously, Paul decided to try and play along with John’s game. “Yeah, I reckon he carried those old drumsticks right out the door with him!”
“’Course he did! What, do you think I’m daft or something? He carries those things around everywhere these days-”
“Well, they loom large in his legend, John,” Paul quipped, smirking. “Those things could pass as weapons of mass-destruction. Poor George, he’ll be dead before breakfast this morning.” It was a little past tea time.
John nodded solemnly in agreement, his head bowed in mock grief.
Paul’s nervousness began to slowly creep in again, along with the silence that was drowning the room.
After a few long seconds, John cleared his throat pointedly, still staring at the floor.
“Erm, Paul… I wrote a song…” He looked embarrassed.
“Really? A song? Because I thought you’d written at least twenty by now,” Paul joked, feeling a bit daring.
John didn’t smile.
“Erm… well, this one’s... it’s a bit different… and, uh…the others might not like it… because, well…”
He finally met Paul’s eyes with a dead serious expression, which Paul very quickly mirrored.
“Because I wrote this song for you,” John finished quietly.