The Dr. Maxwell S.H. Institution: Chapter 5c
Title: The Dr. Maxwell S. T. Institution
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own the Beatles or any rights of theirs', this whole story is purely fictive and I am not suggesting any occurrence in this has taken place for real.
A/N: Third part of the holiday, Paul's POV. I'm really trying to update regularly but I'm not sure whether I'll manage... Oh well :) I'm not too pleased with this chapter, nothing much happens, it's mostly Paul rethinking the night and so you'll know everything already... I hope it'll be okay! * keeps fingers crossed * Next chapter they'll be back at school!
Comments are, as per usual, appreciated :) Enjoy.
Chapter 5c
October '57
Paul
He didn't understand John. Really. It was the only conclusion he could draw.
Paul was sitting in his room, looking down at the street. The weather was dreary and cold, and there was nobody outside.
In his room it wasn't exactly warm either, but -unlike usual- he was feeling the cold in his guts as well.
He'd thought John would like going out. They had been excited about it, the both of them - it was John's first time and Paul himself hadn't been to the club in a couple of months, not since he'd first gone to the Institution. Only 24 hours before they had been sitting right here, on Paul's bed, and Paul had told John some things about going out and how he could hit on a girl. They had been smiling and laughing and thinking about how much fun they were going to have and John was acting normal. As expected.
On their way to the club, John had been rambling about how much he was looking forward to it, and Paul had felt the excitement radiating off the other boy. He had been happy himself, and hoped Dot and Cynthia would be there. He had met them there a couple of times before, and had been feeling attracted to Dot. The idea of seeing her again had made his stomach flutter a little, and when they had arrived there he'd looked around the room briefly, then dragged John along with him when he had seen her.
Soon enough John and Cynthia set off, to the dance floor, and from the corner of his eye Paul had seen them dance. He told Dot it was John's first time going out, and Dot giggled when she saw Cynthia pressing herself up against John. It wasn't exactly like her, and Paul knew it as well. She really had to like John then.
After that he'd lost sight of the other couple and focussed on Dot. They were flirting and talked for a while, Paul telling Dot his father had sent him to the Dr. Maxwell Institution. When Dot heard this, she gave him her address, so they could write. Paul didn't know the address of the school, so he promised her he would tell her in his first letter. Then Dot wanted to dance, and so Paul had followed her to where everyone else was dancing as well. They soon took up the rhythm of the song and Paul had been feeling perfectly in his element when John and Cynthia showed up again.
John had asked him for money, or better said; drinks. They went to the bar, and it was the first time the previous night Paul had noticed something was wrong with John, although he still hadn't figured out what exactly it was. The other boy had been staring at the band - gaping nearly, and even though Paul thought it was a little bit off, he'd supposed it only was because the band really was fucking good, and he'd lost himself in the music for a while as well. He told John he would love to be in a band like that, because really - he would love to entertain people. It was in his blood, he loved playing for people, even if they were only his own family or sometimes blokes at school. Teaching John about playing guitar was really nice as well, but if he was completely honest towards himself, he was only doing it because then he had someone he could play with. Properly. And of course John had a tendency to throw his guitar away, looking at it disgusted when he couldn't reach a chord or get the rhythm right.
At first Paul had been annoyed by him, in multiple ways, but he'd quickly grown used to John's quirks and habits, and he thought he might actually - if they would talk enough and know each other for long enough - figure him out. John was stubborn, and he knew it, they had laughed about everything John had done to annoy Mimi. He was easily angry, annoyed, jealous and an entire list more of bad traits, but - and Paul had personal experience - he was so charismatic and Paul suspected he had a huge heart underneath his tough appearance. He would only have to figure out how to see the real John.
Right now though, John's behaviour just didn't make any sense to Paul. When they had been staring at the band, John had nodded in reply when Paul had said he wanted to be in a band, preferably like the band they were watching right then. Then they had gone back with drinks for the girls. Paul had seen how Cyn had been in a hurry to get back to the dance floor, forgetting about her drink, and how John had downed his own drink before following her - Paul could remember thinking how eager he seemed to get back to the girl, and how much he must've missed it.
Soon after Dot had finished her drink, and Paul had put his lager aside to go dance with her as well. He'd seen Cynthia grinding against John, while John had looked straight at him. There was something in his eyes Paul hadn't seen before - it seemed like lust, and it had made him think about him kissing John - which had definitely shocked him. Still did, if he was honest. He'd dismissed the thought back then, and kissed Dot instead. The uneasy feeling he'd had in his stomach settled back to the exiting flutter of being with a girl, like he always experienced while being with one, and especially Dot.
They had spent some time together, when Cynthia had come to see them - without John. She was in tears, and Dot had asked her what was wrong - Paul saw how she was shocked, and he was surprised himself as well. Cynthia told them John had suddenly pushed her away, no warning or anything, and walked away. She hadn't seen where he was going, but Paul figured he'd gone outside. Dot had suggested it was maybe to be sick or something like that? Paul had agreed, and he told the girls he would see where John was. In the mean time Dot was staying with Cynthia.
He did find John outside, leaning against the club's brick walls. The noise had faded to a dull thumping in the background, and he could hear the wind blow. He'd seen how John had shivered, but it didn't have to do with his presence because his eyes were closed. It had worried Paul, though - John had looked genuinely upset.
When he had asked about what was wrong though, John had gotten angry with him. It was a given fact he didn't like to talk about his emotions - they were blokes after all - but it was strange to just ... walk away from a girl, heading straight for the exit door. He didn't look sick, or as if he'd just been sick, so Paul supposed it wasn't that. Besides, they'd only had two pints to drink each, so it wasn't as if he could be drunk or anything.
''Paul?'' Mike interrupted Paul's thoughts while banging loudly on the door, shouting his name.
''Yeah?'' he replied, annoyed at his brother for disturbing him.
''Can I come in?'' Mike asked.
''Sure,'' Paul rolled his eyes, knowing Mike wouldn't see anyway. He sometimes got fed up with his brother - but he supposed that was normal. At the institution he had much more boys surrounding him, some of which were even worse than Mike. He wasn't half bad really, and so Paul didn't really want to take any of his frustrations out of him. He wasn't even sure if he was able to, actually.
''Da' sent me up to ask how you're doing,'' Mike said as he sat down on Paul's chair. ''He thinks it's silly behaviour, sitting on your room all day long. I told him it's probably because you can't really be alone at school but he didn't believe me, so I had to come and get you.''
''Can't you tell him nothing's wrong?'' Paul asked.
''Well...'' Mike hesitated, ''I do think something's wrong. You never sit on your room all day, and earlier this week you were in the living room most of the time as well. 'Sides, it's bloody cold up here.''
''It is,'' Paul agreed. ''And well... there's nothing wrong with me, alright?'' he said, not being able to keep the emphasis off 'me'.
''It's John, isn't it?'' Mike asked. ''I know he was meant to sleep here last night but I've only heard you coming in. Dad thinks he left early this morning but...''
''Uh,'' Paul wondered whether he could tell Mike about what had happened, but he guessed he could. It wasn't like he was far too young to know anything about the matter, they were only a year and a half apart after all.
''If it's because of girls,'' Mike put on an angelic face, ''I've a girlfriend, you know. You can tell me, if you'd like.''
''Alright,'' Paul gave in, quite happy to have someone he could talk to, ''John was dancing with Cynthia when he suddenly left, apparently he pushed her away so she nearly fell. She was quite upset when she came to see me and Dot. I found him outside, and he looked quite upset,'' he said, looking at Mike. ''When I tried to talk to him he got mad, and eventually he walked away. I think he went to visit his mother, but it was strange as fuck.'' Paul sighed. ''And now I don't know what the heck to do when I see him again. Sharing a room and all. He seemed quite angry with me as well, to be honest.''
''Seems to me he's jealous,'' Mike said. ''I mean, from what I've heard from you, Dot's way prettier than Cynthia.'' Paul snorted. ''What?'' Mike laughed as well. ''I look at girls as well, you know!''
''I know,'' Paul said. ''It's just a bit weird that I'm talking about this to my baby brother.''
Mike pouted. ''Nah, but seriously,'' he continued after a while, ''everything will probably be fine. He might just have needed some time alone to cool down. He seemed nice enough when he was here but you said he's easily angry, so that might've been it.''
''Yeah,'' Paul nodded. ''That might be it.''
''So, maybe just not give last night too much thought and just see how he reacts when you go back there Saturday?'' Mike offered.
''Probably the best plan, aye?'' Paul said.
Mike nodded. ''Anyways, will you be you coming downstairs?''
''Yeah,'' Paul got up from his bed, and followed Mike to the living room.
* * *
When he was laying in bed, he couldn't stop thinking about what happened anymore. The night kept repeating itself over and over again, driving him crazy.
There was something wrong with John, and he just couldn't figure out what it was. Mike's idea that it could be jealousy made most sense, but something was off. He'd seen how John's focus immediately went to Cynthia, and surely it could be because Paul started talking to Dot, but he'd assumed it was because John liked Cynthia. They had been dancing - kissing too, at some point. He didn't think John would've done any of that if he'd been jealous; if it had been the case he would've been acting differently when they went for drinks.
There was something wrong with himself as well. He hadn't given it much thought earlier on, but there had been a moment when he had wondered about kissing John. Paul was pretty sure it wasn't how boys were supposed to think, and it reminded him of the conversation he'd had with Terry - back at the institution. Maybe John was queer and it was contagious?
All of it just fucked him up. His head had changed into a turnmoil of thoughts and the most ridiculous possibilities passed in review, but nothing made sense. He refused to believe John could be... like that, he assumed he would've known because he supposed John would have been disgusted by Cynthia.
Disgusted by Cynthia... the thought lingered on a moment longer, before Paul sat straight up in bed - in shock. His heartbeat sped up and he cursed himself for not realising it sooner. Cynthia had been pretty clingy, so he could understand John was a bit overwhelmed by it. Just before John had run off, she had been gyrating against him, positively inviting him for something more than just kisses as she did fancy him a great deal. If he added it to John's possible sexuality it all made sense. More than anything else, at least.
He didn't know in which place this left him though. It seemed a bit illogical, sexuality being contagious. And he hadn't thought about John before, not like that at least, plus he did fancy girls. Otherwise he wouldn't be going out.
Maybe, Paul thought, he could try it? Fantasising about John? He knew it was wrong but somehow it was almost thrilling. Plus, it wasn't as if he was doing something, just a little test for himself.
He lay down on his back, closing his eyes. Imagining John's face wasn't tough - he had it memorised so well, probably because it was the person he saw the better part of the day. He thought about leaning forwards to John, kissing him. And didn't feel anything.
Paul opened his eyes again. He wondered whether maybe he first had to be a bit aroused for this? When he thought of kissing Dot, his heart started beating faster. Then he thought of John again, and this time the images came more easily. Paul smiled to himself, glad it was working, although in the back of his mind he knew it wasn't exactly the right thing he was doing - he was supposed to be far more uncomfortable with this, wasn't he?
He continued though, thinking of how John's lips would feel against his, whether he would taste different than a bird, whether the kiss would be rougher? His fantasy was taking over control, and he could feel his body getting aroused as he thought of laying with John in his bed at the institution, kissing and feeling John's body pressed against his own. His hand slid down, but Paul didn't stop it, it was just a bit of experimenting as he kept telling to himself. A flash of a naked and aroused John entered his mind, as he thought back of the day he'd walked in on John wanking. Paul felt a blush appear as he thought back to it, and his hand was moving faster as he remembered more details about John's body.
He could feel his orgasm approach quickly enough, nearly whispering a name as he came, and afterwards he lay with his eyes closed for some time, just enjoying the feeling of a completely relaxed body and mind. Paul hadn't really expected he would get aroused from thinking of John- a boy...
At the moment he caught himself considering his chances with John, he forced himself to forget about the matter. It wouldn't really change anything anyway, would it? And what were the possibilities that - if John really was queer - he would fancy Paul? Paul didn't even think he fancied John or anything, it was just that he had been curious alright? He would've thought about boys more often. It were just the hormones, and curiosity, and partially because of Dot because if he hadn't first thought of her, he didn't think he ever would have got an erection in the first place.
When his dad came upstairs, he put the thoughts out of his mind entirely, and went for dreaming about being a rock star instead. For some reason Paul felt as if his father could read his mind, although he knew it was ridiculous.
Eventually he fell asleep to the thoughts of playing guitar in front of an audience of millions, with John standing by his side.
* * *
Paul woke up early in the morning. It was still dark outside, but for a change there was no wind or water.
He felt like playing guitar so he went downstairs, took his guitar with him, and started to strum quietly. The song ideas came to him pretty easily this morning so he got up again, quietly walked up the stairs and to his room, to find paper and a pen.
''Hey,'' Mike whispered as he saw Paul.
''Hi,'' Paul turned to face his younger brother. ''I thought you never got up before ten?''
Mike shrugged. ''I heard you. It sounded nice though.'' Paul smiled at him. ''But you did annoy me because I woke up because of your noise. You shouldn't play guitar this early in the morning, it's not healthy.''
Paul poked out his tongue. ''I don't care and you fuck off. I'm not playing every morning or anything so you shouldn't complain, git.''
Mike pulled a funny face in return. ''I complain about everything I want to,'' he mocked.
''Aw, you're becoming stubborn!'' Paul coo-ed as he walked past his brother and squeezed his cheek. Mike rolled his eyes before walking back to his own bedroom.
When he was downstairs again, Paul quickly wrote down the lyrics and chords he'd come up with before. He was pleased with them, but he would have liked it if John was there to check them... In fact, he was missing him. He guessed it was because they normally were talking all day long, and he hadn't seen him again after that night, which he felt quite horrible about. Paul couldn't gather enough courage to go and visit him, though he knew where John was living. Firstly because he didn't know how John would react - he might actually take everything out on Paul and he didn't feel like getting his arse kicked, and secondly because he didn't know Mimi. He wasn't usually scared of people but with all the stories he'd heard about this woman he'd rather not.
Maybe it was also his own reaction he worried about. He hadn't forgotten about the past night, although he didn't really think all that much of it either. Paul hadn't dreamt about it, or really thought about him anymore, except for that he'd like to let John hear his song. It were probably the circumstances that'd had the effect.
* * *
By the time his father and Mike both were downstairs, ready for breakfast, Paul had finished writing his song. He joined them at the table, enjoying the last full day at home - tomorrow he would have to go back to school.
He managed to forget about that though, and focussed on the present.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own the Beatles or any rights of theirs', this whole story is purely fictive and I am not suggesting any occurrence in this has taken place for real.
A/N: Third part of the holiday, Paul's POV. I'm really trying to update regularly but I'm not sure whether I'll manage... Oh well :) I'm not too pleased with this chapter, nothing much happens, it's mostly Paul rethinking the night and so you'll know everything already... I hope it'll be okay! * keeps fingers crossed * Next chapter they'll be back at school!
Comments are, as per usual, appreciated :) Enjoy.
Chapter 5c
October '57
Paul
He didn't understand John. Really. It was the only conclusion he could draw.
Paul was sitting in his room, looking down at the street. The weather was dreary and cold, and there was nobody outside.
In his room it wasn't exactly warm either, but -unlike usual- he was feeling the cold in his guts as well.
He'd thought John would like going out. They had been excited about it, the both of them - it was John's first time and Paul himself hadn't been to the club in a couple of months, not since he'd first gone to the Institution. Only 24 hours before they had been sitting right here, on Paul's bed, and Paul had told John some things about going out and how he could hit on a girl. They had been smiling and laughing and thinking about how much fun they were going to have and John was acting normal. As expected.
On their way to the club, John had been rambling about how much he was looking forward to it, and Paul had felt the excitement radiating off the other boy. He had been happy himself, and hoped Dot and Cynthia would be there. He had met them there a couple of times before, and had been feeling attracted to Dot. The idea of seeing her again had made his stomach flutter a little, and when they had arrived there he'd looked around the room briefly, then dragged John along with him when he had seen her.
Soon enough John and Cynthia set off, to the dance floor, and from the corner of his eye Paul had seen them dance. He told Dot it was John's first time going out, and Dot giggled when she saw Cynthia pressing herself up against John. It wasn't exactly like her, and Paul knew it as well. She really had to like John then.
After that he'd lost sight of the other couple and focussed on Dot. They were flirting and talked for a while, Paul telling Dot his father had sent him to the Dr. Maxwell Institution. When Dot heard this, she gave him her address, so they could write. Paul didn't know the address of the school, so he promised her he would tell her in his first letter. Then Dot wanted to dance, and so Paul had followed her to where everyone else was dancing as well. They soon took up the rhythm of the song and Paul had been feeling perfectly in his element when John and Cynthia showed up again.
John had asked him for money, or better said; drinks. They went to the bar, and it was the first time the previous night Paul had noticed something was wrong with John, although he still hadn't figured out what exactly it was. The other boy had been staring at the band - gaping nearly, and even though Paul thought it was a little bit off, he'd supposed it only was because the band really was fucking good, and he'd lost himself in the music for a while as well. He told John he would love to be in a band like that, because really - he would love to entertain people. It was in his blood, he loved playing for people, even if they were only his own family or sometimes blokes at school. Teaching John about playing guitar was really nice as well, but if he was completely honest towards himself, he was only doing it because then he had someone he could play with. Properly. And of course John had a tendency to throw his guitar away, looking at it disgusted when he couldn't reach a chord or get the rhythm right.
At first Paul had been annoyed by him, in multiple ways, but he'd quickly grown used to John's quirks and habits, and he thought he might actually - if they would talk enough and know each other for long enough - figure him out. John was stubborn, and he knew it, they had laughed about everything John had done to annoy Mimi. He was easily angry, annoyed, jealous and an entire list more of bad traits, but - and Paul had personal experience - he was so charismatic and Paul suspected he had a huge heart underneath his tough appearance. He would only have to figure out how to see the real John.
Right now though, John's behaviour just didn't make any sense to Paul. When they had been staring at the band, John had nodded in reply when Paul had said he wanted to be in a band, preferably like the band they were watching right then. Then they had gone back with drinks for the girls. Paul had seen how Cyn had been in a hurry to get back to the dance floor, forgetting about her drink, and how John had downed his own drink before following her - Paul could remember thinking how eager he seemed to get back to the girl, and how much he must've missed it.
Soon after Dot had finished her drink, and Paul had put his lager aside to go dance with her as well. He'd seen Cynthia grinding against John, while John had looked straight at him. There was something in his eyes Paul hadn't seen before - it seemed like lust, and it had made him think about him kissing John - which had definitely shocked him. Still did, if he was honest. He'd dismissed the thought back then, and kissed Dot instead. The uneasy feeling he'd had in his stomach settled back to the exiting flutter of being with a girl, like he always experienced while being with one, and especially Dot.
They had spent some time together, when Cynthia had come to see them - without John. She was in tears, and Dot had asked her what was wrong - Paul saw how she was shocked, and he was surprised himself as well. Cynthia told them John had suddenly pushed her away, no warning or anything, and walked away. She hadn't seen where he was going, but Paul figured he'd gone outside. Dot had suggested it was maybe to be sick or something like that? Paul had agreed, and he told the girls he would see where John was. In the mean time Dot was staying with Cynthia.
He did find John outside, leaning against the club's brick walls. The noise had faded to a dull thumping in the background, and he could hear the wind blow. He'd seen how John had shivered, but it didn't have to do with his presence because his eyes were closed. It had worried Paul, though - John had looked genuinely upset.
When he had asked about what was wrong though, John had gotten angry with him. It was a given fact he didn't like to talk about his emotions - they were blokes after all - but it was strange to just ... walk away from a girl, heading straight for the exit door. He didn't look sick, or as if he'd just been sick, so Paul supposed it wasn't that. Besides, they'd only had two pints to drink each, so it wasn't as if he could be drunk or anything.
''Paul?'' Mike interrupted Paul's thoughts while banging loudly on the door, shouting his name.
''Yeah?'' he replied, annoyed at his brother for disturbing him.
''Can I come in?'' Mike asked.
''Sure,'' Paul rolled his eyes, knowing Mike wouldn't see anyway. He sometimes got fed up with his brother - but he supposed that was normal. At the institution he had much more boys surrounding him, some of which were even worse than Mike. He wasn't half bad really, and so Paul didn't really want to take any of his frustrations out of him. He wasn't even sure if he was able to, actually.
''Da' sent me up to ask how you're doing,'' Mike said as he sat down on Paul's chair. ''He thinks it's silly behaviour, sitting on your room all day long. I told him it's probably because you can't really be alone at school but he didn't believe me, so I had to come and get you.''
''Can't you tell him nothing's wrong?'' Paul asked.
''Well...'' Mike hesitated, ''I do think something's wrong. You never sit on your room all day, and earlier this week you were in the living room most of the time as well. 'Sides, it's bloody cold up here.''
''It is,'' Paul agreed. ''And well... there's nothing wrong with me, alright?'' he said, not being able to keep the emphasis off 'me'.
''It's John, isn't it?'' Mike asked. ''I know he was meant to sleep here last night but I've only heard you coming in. Dad thinks he left early this morning but...''
''Uh,'' Paul wondered whether he could tell Mike about what had happened, but he guessed he could. It wasn't like he was far too young to know anything about the matter, they were only a year and a half apart after all.
''If it's because of girls,'' Mike put on an angelic face, ''I've a girlfriend, you know. You can tell me, if you'd like.''
''Alright,'' Paul gave in, quite happy to have someone he could talk to, ''John was dancing with Cynthia when he suddenly left, apparently he pushed her away so she nearly fell. She was quite upset when she came to see me and Dot. I found him outside, and he looked quite upset,'' he said, looking at Mike. ''When I tried to talk to him he got mad, and eventually he walked away. I think he went to visit his mother, but it was strange as fuck.'' Paul sighed. ''And now I don't know what the heck to do when I see him again. Sharing a room and all. He seemed quite angry with me as well, to be honest.''
''Seems to me he's jealous,'' Mike said. ''I mean, from what I've heard from you, Dot's way prettier than Cynthia.'' Paul snorted. ''What?'' Mike laughed as well. ''I look at girls as well, you know!''
''I know,'' Paul said. ''It's just a bit weird that I'm talking about this to my baby brother.''
Mike pouted. ''Nah, but seriously,'' he continued after a while, ''everything will probably be fine. He might just have needed some time alone to cool down. He seemed nice enough when he was here but you said he's easily angry, so that might've been it.''
''Yeah,'' Paul nodded. ''That might be it.''
''So, maybe just not give last night too much thought and just see how he reacts when you go back there Saturday?'' Mike offered.
''Probably the best plan, aye?'' Paul said.
Mike nodded. ''Anyways, will you be you coming downstairs?''
''Yeah,'' Paul got up from his bed, and followed Mike to the living room.
* * *
When he was laying in bed, he couldn't stop thinking about what happened anymore. The night kept repeating itself over and over again, driving him crazy.
There was something wrong with John, and he just couldn't figure out what it was. Mike's idea that it could be jealousy made most sense, but something was off. He'd seen how John's focus immediately went to Cynthia, and surely it could be because Paul started talking to Dot, but he'd assumed it was because John liked Cynthia. They had been dancing - kissing too, at some point. He didn't think John would've done any of that if he'd been jealous; if it had been the case he would've been acting differently when they went for drinks.
There was something wrong with himself as well. He hadn't given it much thought earlier on, but there had been a moment when he had wondered about kissing John. Paul was pretty sure it wasn't how boys were supposed to think, and it reminded him of the conversation he'd had with Terry - back at the institution. Maybe John was queer and it was contagious?
All of it just fucked him up. His head had changed into a turnmoil of thoughts and the most ridiculous possibilities passed in review, but nothing made sense. He refused to believe John could be... like that, he assumed he would've known because he supposed John would have been disgusted by Cynthia.
Disgusted by Cynthia... the thought lingered on a moment longer, before Paul sat straight up in bed - in shock. His heartbeat sped up and he cursed himself for not realising it sooner. Cynthia had been pretty clingy, so he could understand John was a bit overwhelmed by it. Just before John had run off, she had been gyrating against him, positively inviting him for something more than just kisses as she did fancy him a great deal. If he added it to John's possible sexuality it all made sense. More than anything else, at least.
He didn't know in which place this left him though. It seemed a bit illogical, sexuality being contagious. And he hadn't thought about John before, not like that at least, plus he did fancy girls. Otherwise he wouldn't be going out.
Maybe, Paul thought, he could try it? Fantasising about John? He knew it was wrong but somehow it was almost thrilling. Plus, it wasn't as if he was doing something, just a little test for himself.
He lay down on his back, closing his eyes. Imagining John's face wasn't tough - he had it memorised so well, probably because it was the person he saw the better part of the day. He thought about leaning forwards to John, kissing him. And didn't feel anything.
Paul opened his eyes again. He wondered whether maybe he first had to be a bit aroused for this? When he thought of kissing Dot, his heart started beating faster. Then he thought of John again, and this time the images came more easily. Paul smiled to himself, glad it was working, although in the back of his mind he knew it wasn't exactly the right thing he was doing - he was supposed to be far more uncomfortable with this, wasn't he?
He continued though, thinking of how John's lips would feel against his, whether he would taste different than a bird, whether the kiss would be rougher? His fantasy was taking over control, and he could feel his body getting aroused as he thought of laying with John in his bed at the institution, kissing and feeling John's body pressed against his own. His hand slid down, but Paul didn't stop it, it was just a bit of experimenting as he kept telling to himself. A flash of a naked and aroused John entered his mind, as he thought back of the day he'd walked in on John wanking. Paul felt a blush appear as he thought back to it, and his hand was moving faster as he remembered more details about John's body.
He could feel his orgasm approach quickly enough, nearly whispering a name as he came, and afterwards he lay with his eyes closed for some time, just enjoying the feeling of a completely relaxed body and mind. Paul hadn't really expected he would get aroused from thinking of John- a boy...
At the moment he caught himself considering his chances with John, he forced himself to forget about the matter. It wouldn't really change anything anyway, would it? And what were the possibilities that - if John really was queer - he would fancy Paul? Paul didn't even think he fancied John or anything, it was just that he had been curious alright? He would've thought about boys more often. It were just the hormones, and curiosity, and partially because of Dot because if he hadn't first thought of her, he didn't think he ever would have got an erection in the first place.
When his dad came upstairs, he put the thoughts out of his mind entirely, and went for dreaming about being a rock star instead. For some reason Paul felt as if his father could read his mind, although he knew it was ridiculous.
Eventually he fell asleep to the thoughts of playing guitar in front of an audience of millions, with John standing by his side.
* * *
Paul woke up early in the morning. It was still dark outside, but for a change there was no wind or water.
He felt like playing guitar so he went downstairs, took his guitar with him, and started to strum quietly. The song ideas came to him pretty easily this morning so he got up again, quietly walked up the stairs and to his room, to find paper and a pen.
''Hey,'' Mike whispered as he saw Paul.
''Hi,'' Paul turned to face his younger brother. ''I thought you never got up before ten?''
Mike shrugged. ''I heard you. It sounded nice though.'' Paul smiled at him. ''But you did annoy me because I woke up because of your noise. You shouldn't play guitar this early in the morning, it's not healthy.''
Paul poked out his tongue. ''I don't care and you fuck off. I'm not playing every morning or anything so you shouldn't complain, git.''
Mike pulled a funny face in return. ''I complain about everything I want to,'' he mocked.
''Aw, you're becoming stubborn!'' Paul coo-ed as he walked past his brother and squeezed his cheek. Mike rolled his eyes before walking back to his own bedroom.
When he was downstairs again, Paul quickly wrote down the lyrics and chords he'd come up with before. He was pleased with them, but he would have liked it if John was there to check them... In fact, he was missing him. He guessed it was because they normally were talking all day long, and he hadn't seen him again after that night, which he felt quite horrible about. Paul couldn't gather enough courage to go and visit him, though he knew where John was living. Firstly because he didn't know how John would react - he might actually take everything out on Paul and he didn't feel like getting his arse kicked, and secondly because he didn't know Mimi. He wasn't usually scared of people but with all the stories he'd heard about this woman he'd rather not.
Maybe it was also his own reaction he worried about. He hadn't forgotten about the past night, although he didn't really think all that much of it either. Paul hadn't dreamt about it, or really thought about him anymore, except for that he'd like to let John hear his song. It were probably the circumstances that'd had the effect.
* * *
By the time his father and Mike both were downstairs, ready for breakfast, Paul had finished writing his song. He joined them at the table, enjoying the last full day at home - tomorrow he would have to go back to school.
He managed to forget about that though, and focussed on the present.