Your Mother Should Know
Title: Your Mother Should Know; Part-(3/??)
Author(s): SirSchlongo
Pairing: John/Paul
Rating: PG-13 (for very minor swearing)
Timeframe: 1957-58'
Word count: 1,813
Summary: Paul gets a job so he can support himself more stably, working the paper-route was never his ideal job, but one boy from his route has seemingly caught his attention.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Beatles. )':
Prolouge Chapter One Chapter Two
A/N:Sorry that this chapter had a lot of spaces, it was supposed to be two but I decided it would make the story go along a lot quicker in just one whole big one. So we can just get straight into Paul's house and all that jazz.
“Mph’ Da” Paul grunted as he twisted and turned in his bed.
“Be still Paul, let me feel ya’ head boy.” His father’s hands were cold and his head wasn’t necessarily as warm as he had wanted it to be. “You don’t feel like you have a fever, let me ‘ave a look at your throat.”
Paul obediently opened up his mouth so his dad could look inside, “Just as I suspected.”
“What is it?” Paul eagerly questioned quickly seeing if his plan to ditch work today would work.
“You seem to have a terrible case of the-morning-laziness, get up now son, you’re perfectly fine.”
“But daaaa’-” Paul began to whine before the covers were torn off of his warm body, exposing him to the air.
“No but’s mister, you have to go get the paper’s delivered now if you want your pay. I’ll be back to check on you in five.” With that Jim left the room closing the door behind him.
Paul let out a large moan then slowly drug him feet to the corner of the bed where he placed them on the floor and stood up.
What on Earth is going to happen today....
_____________________________________________________________
“Damn, how late could he be?” John mumbled under his breath looking from corner to corner of his street. Paul hadn’t been by yet and it was nearly eight, almost an hour past when he usually gets to Johns house.
“I swear! If this paper boy doesn’t get here in five minutes ‘m gonna…”
“Gonna what?”
John nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned around and was face to face with the younger man. “Christ boy, don’t give me thumper a scare like tha’!”
“Well… continue, what were you saying about what you were going to do if I wasn’t here, hmm…” Paul teased John, which made his face slightly turn from a powdery white to a strawberry pink.
“Oh, uh, nothing..here, just take there. Me aunts gonna kill me if I don’t get ‘em sent in soon.” John stated handing the large bulk of letter to Paul.
“You do know ‘m not a delivery boy, right?” Paul laughed while taking the letter,“but I’ll make an acception for you under one condition.”
John jumped at his recommendation, “Oh, and what is that?”
“Well, plainly you just gotta get me some of them drain-pipes! Look at those, they’re tighter than anyone’s I’ve ever seen.”
John grinned taking in the glory of this compliment, “You like ‘em do ya, well lemme’ make a bargain with ya’, you keep taking me letters and I’ll see what I can do for ya, hmmm deal?”
“No deal.”
“WHAT! No deal, come on kid, it ain’ everyday you see someone as great as me, the superior John Lennon!”
“Well…you’re actually not tha’ great.” Paul giggled as he started slowly skidding away on his bike.
“Oh, no you don’t.” John leaped then grasped the front of Paul’s bike with both hands steadying himself as if Paul was going to charge him like a bull. “You are NOT going anywhere until I get a name lad, come on give an ol’ dog a bone will ya.”
“Why you want my name so bad, Sir Lennon?”
“Well, you have my name, it’d only be fair.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’ll tell you.”
“What is it then?”
“McCartney, Paul McCartney. Now will you let go of my bike, I got to finish my route before it gets too late.” With that John released the front of his bike, and watched as the boy, no not the boy anymore, Paul, rode away.
It wasn’t until far that John couldn’t see him anymore, forgetting all about the letter that he had wrote for this mysterious paper boy that he had slipped into the stack late in the night when he was still half asleep, probably not thinking.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Paul finished his run, and then collected his pay from Mr. Calpert who was concerned about him by not calling in for being late. He explained to him that he was sick, but he got better and being the understanding man his boss was he accepted that lie.
He then strolled down the street and stumbled across the ice cream shop, it wasn’t open yet because it was too early to be serving ice cream. He had almost forgot all about the letter that John had given him to deliver if it wasn’t for some pesky stray dog pulling at his back pocket ripping the edges of the envelopes.
“Get off you mutt!” He yelled swatting at the dog, making it cower then run away. He looked at the loose letters that had scattered all over the ground. Paul swooped down to pick them up, when one of them caught his attention.
“Hello…what is this…” The front of it read, Pesky Paper Boy. Wonder why I have a letter in this pile, he thought to himself while he robotically opened it starting from the left corner ripping deep into the right.
He pulled out the yellow tinted paper, it smelled like patchouli paper almost, he unfolded the creases then peered at the scribbles. It read:
Dear Paper Boy,
I don’t have your name, so I can’t really address this note properly.
You have a nice laughing face, I hope you do know that.
Underneath the two sentences were doodles of “the paper boy” riding his bike then ramming into a wall and it looked almost like John with his straight nose standing next to his laughing, then the image next to it was semi-disturbing. It showed Paul crying then John leaning next to him with a large question mark above his head, the third strip was the last, and probably the one that made Paul a little nervous. It had John kissing his “boo-boo” and making it better like a mother, a tear swelled up in the corner of his eye. Paul really did miss his mother, and this picture brought back many memories for the boy, too many fond ones…the letter soon found its self being shoved into the pocket of the teary-eyed boy on his way back home.
____________________________________________________________________________
He knew that he shouldn’t be doing this, but it felt so right. He just needed to see this beautiful boy again. So what did John do, he followed Paul. It felt so wrong, but he just needed to know where he lived and what his neighborhood felt like.
“God, I’m a damned stalker” he mumbled while peering out from behind the bushes that he had propped himself up behind to keep close tabs on him. All John wanted to do was talk to him again, he felt this hot burning sensation inside of his chest whenever he saw him, but when he tried to speak the sound of silence or weak coughs only came out of his mouth.
John had followed him silently for almost two blocks. I could be good at this whole ninja essence, was all that he was thinking about until he got his shirt caught in a bush branch, Damn it, he thought as he tugged at his shirt trying not to make too much of a rustling noise or rip his shirt, which it did in the process of the savage pulling. Once he was unhooked from the bushes death grip, he peeked out through the hole that he had been using only to find that Paul was out of sight.
“Fuck, great, look what you did you damn bush, he got away.” He cursed at the bush, but in less than a few seconds after he felt this weird tingling sense from behind him. It was radiating heat, loads of heat actually. John didn’t turn around, he was too scared to.
“What are you doing?” A voice whispered from behind him.
John shrieked then leaped out from behind the bushes, grabbing the back of his hair messing with it comfortingly then looked around, blushing like mad. Paul began laughing in fits, “God, you screamed like a little girl!”
John’s face turned even redder from embarrassment, “Do not!”
“What were you exactly doing from behind here?” Paul questioned while crouching down in the same spot John had just been in, “Uhhh, nothing, nothing at all….”
“Funny actually,” Paul said while looked through the bush, “if you wanted to, you could totally see where I was just standing from here…say you weren’t following me were you?”
“N-never!”
Paul stood up straight and put his hands on his hips. “U’huh…Liar, why are you following me John?”
Defeated and caught, John just hung his head down lower than normal, then raised it back up to speak, “well truth is…I…I…I was-protecting you!”
“Protecting me?!”
“Yes! Protecting you.” John said with confidence. Paul was confussed, it was either John was pathetic or his cover-up story just bought him humor from Paul. Humor it was, for Paul began laughing again at this, protection story.
“So you want me to believe that you were really trying to keep me safe, from hiding in these here bushes and following me home?”
John kind of looked down at his feet then back up at Paul then pulled a funny face,
“Is it working?”
Paul just smiled and shook his head, “Yeah, okay, I forgive ya’, for now, but really, don’t follow people John, it’s concerning. I mean I was doing perfectly fine, I walk alone every day.”
“But how would you know that you wouldn’t get mugged today for a change?!”
“Because the only person that I know would want to mug me would be you, and you’re already following me.” John smirked at this comment, “Alright, you win.”
Paul grabbed John by the wrist and began sauntering away with him dragging behind, “Aye! What are you doing?” John questioned looking down at the younger boy. Paul stopped then looked up with his round girlish hazel eyes, the ones that John had become accustom to seeing at least once a day.
“Well, I’m taking you home, isn’t this what you wanted, you know, to hang out? That’s what the letter had to be for huh; you were just too scared to ask weren’t you.”
John pulled away his wrist and blushed bashfully, “Fine, if that’s what you want to believe, so be it.” He then straightened out his jacket before walking ahead of Paul like the cool-guy he tried to portray himself to be. Paul just shook his head in disbelief of his cockiness, and then soon caught up walking right next to him. It was mostly silent on the way back to Paul’s house, but Paul felt this weird pain of joy in his heart, as if something just collided in his mind and created something imaginable.
“Hey, Paul.”
“What John?”
“Do you mind not tellin’ anyone about me followin’ ya?”
This made him smile, “Yeah mate, you can trust me.”
Author(s): SirSchlongo
Pairing: John/Paul
Rating: PG-13 (for very minor swearing)
Timeframe: 1957-58'
Word count: 1,813
Summary: Paul gets a job so he can support himself more stably, working the paper-route was never his ideal job, but one boy from his route has seemingly caught his attention.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Beatles. )':
Prolouge Chapter One Chapter Two
A/N:Sorry that this chapter had a lot of spaces, it was supposed to be two but I decided it would make the story go along a lot quicker in just one whole big one. So we can just get straight into Paul's house and all that jazz.
“Mph’ Da” Paul grunted as he twisted and turned in his bed.
“Be still Paul, let me feel ya’ head boy.” His father’s hands were cold and his head wasn’t necessarily as warm as he had wanted it to be. “You don’t feel like you have a fever, let me ‘ave a look at your throat.”
Paul obediently opened up his mouth so his dad could look inside, “Just as I suspected.”
“What is it?” Paul eagerly questioned quickly seeing if his plan to ditch work today would work.
“You seem to have a terrible case of the-morning-laziness, get up now son, you’re perfectly fine.”
“But daaaa’-” Paul began to whine before the covers were torn off of his warm body, exposing him to the air.
“No but’s mister, you have to go get the paper’s delivered now if you want your pay. I’ll be back to check on you in five.” With that Jim left the room closing the door behind him.
Paul let out a large moan then slowly drug him feet to the corner of the bed where he placed them on the floor and stood up.
What on Earth is going to happen today....
_____________________________________________________________
“Damn, how late could he be?” John mumbled under his breath looking from corner to corner of his street. Paul hadn’t been by yet and it was nearly eight, almost an hour past when he usually gets to Johns house.
“I swear! If this paper boy doesn’t get here in five minutes ‘m gonna…”
“Gonna what?”
John nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned around and was face to face with the younger man. “Christ boy, don’t give me thumper a scare like tha’!”
“Well… continue, what were you saying about what you were going to do if I wasn’t here, hmm…” Paul teased John, which made his face slightly turn from a powdery white to a strawberry pink.
“Oh, uh, nothing..here, just take there. Me aunts gonna kill me if I don’t get ‘em sent in soon.” John stated handing the large bulk of letter to Paul.
“You do know ‘m not a delivery boy, right?” Paul laughed while taking the letter,“but I’ll make an acception for you under one condition.”
John jumped at his recommendation, “Oh, and what is that?”
“Well, plainly you just gotta get me some of them drain-pipes! Look at those, they’re tighter than anyone’s I’ve ever seen.”
John grinned taking in the glory of this compliment, “You like ‘em do ya, well lemme’ make a bargain with ya’, you keep taking me letters and I’ll see what I can do for ya, hmmm deal?”
“No deal.”
“WHAT! No deal, come on kid, it ain’ everyday you see someone as great as me, the superior John Lennon!”
“Well…you’re actually not tha’ great.” Paul giggled as he started slowly skidding away on his bike.
“Oh, no you don’t.” John leaped then grasped the front of Paul’s bike with both hands steadying himself as if Paul was going to charge him like a bull. “You are NOT going anywhere until I get a name lad, come on give an ol’ dog a bone will ya.”
“Why you want my name so bad, Sir Lennon?”
“Well, you have my name, it’d only be fair.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’ll tell you.”
“What is it then?”
“McCartney, Paul McCartney. Now will you let go of my bike, I got to finish my route before it gets too late.” With that John released the front of his bike, and watched as the boy, no not the boy anymore, Paul, rode away.
It wasn’t until far that John couldn’t see him anymore, forgetting all about the letter that he had wrote for this mysterious paper boy that he had slipped into the stack late in the night when he was still half asleep, probably not thinking.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Paul finished his run, and then collected his pay from Mr. Calpert who was concerned about him by not calling in for being late. He explained to him that he was sick, but he got better and being the understanding man his boss was he accepted that lie.
He then strolled down the street and stumbled across the ice cream shop, it wasn’t open yet because it was too early to be serving ice cream. He had almost forgot all about the letter that John had given him to deliver if it wasn’t for some pesky stray dog pulling at his back pocket ripping the edges of the envelopes.
“Get off you mutt!” He yelled swatting at the dog, making it cower then run away. He looked at the loose letters that had scattered all over the ground. Paul swooped down to pick them up, when one of them caught his attention.
“Hello…what is this…” The front of it read, Pesky Paper Boy. Wonder why I have a letter in this pile, he thought to himself while he robotically opened it starting from the left corner ripping deep into the right.
He pulled out the yellow tinted paper, it smelled like patchouli paper almost, he unfolded the creases then peered at the scribbles. It read:
Dear Paper Boy,
I don’t have your name, so I can’t really address this note properly.
You have a nice laughing face, I hope you do know that.
Underneath the two sentences were doodles of “the paper boy” riding his bike then ramming into a wall and it looked almost like John with his straight nose standing next to his laughing, then the image next to it was semi-disturbing. It showed Paul crying then John leaning next to him with a large question mark above his head, the third strip was the last, and probably the one that made Paul a little nervous. It had John kissing his “boo-boo” and making it better like a mother, a tear swelled up in the corner of his eye. Paul really did miss his mother, and this picture brought back many memories for the boy, too many fond ones…the letter soon found its self being shoved into the pocket of the teary-eyed boy on his way back home.
____________________________________________________________________________
He knew that he shouldn’t be doing this, but it felt so right. He just needed to see this beautiful boy again. So what did John do, he followed Paul. It felt so wrong, but he just needed to know where he lived and what his neighborhood felt like.
“God, I’m a damned stalker” he mumbled while peering out from behind the bushes that he had propped himself up behind to keep close tabs on him. All John wanted to do was talk to him again, he felt this hot burning sensation inside of his chest whenever he saw him, but when he tried to speak the sound of silence or weak coughs only came out of his mouth.
John had followed him silently for almost two blocks. I could be good at this whole ninja essence, was all that he was thinking about until he got his shirt caught in a bush branch, Damn it, he thought as he tugged at his shirt trying not to make too much of a rustling noise or rip his shirt, which it did in the process of the savage pulling. Once he was unhooked from the bushes death grip, he peeked out through the hole that he had been using only to find that Paul was out of sight.
“Fuck, great, look what you did you damn bush, he got away.” He cursed at the bush, but in less than a few seconds after he felt this weird tingling sense from behind him. It was radiating heat, loads of heat actually. John didn’t turn around, he was too scared to.
“What are you doing?” A voice whispered from behind him.
John shrieked then leaped out from behind the bushes, grabbing the back of his hair messing with it comfortingly then looked around, blushing like mad. Paul began laughing in fits, “God, you screamed like a little girl!”
John’s face turned even redder from embarrassment, “Do not!”
“What were you exactly doing from behind here?” Paul questioned while crouching down in the same spot John had just been in, “Uhhh, nothing, nothing at all….”
“Funny actually,” Paul said while looked through the bush, “if you wanted to, you could totally see where I was just standing from here…say you weren’t following me were you?”
“N-never!”
Paul stood up straight and put his hands on his hips. “U’huh…Liar, why are you following me John?”
Defeated and caught, John just hung his head down lower than normal, then raised it back up to speak, “well truth is…I…I…I was-protecting you!”
“Protecting me?!”
“Yes! Protecting you.” John said with confidence. Paul was confussed, it was either John was pathetic or his cover-up story just bought him humor from Paul. Humor it was, for Paul began laughing again at this, protection story.
“So you want me to believe that you were really trying to keep me safe, from hiding in these here bushes and following me home?”
John kind of looked down at his feet then back up at Paul then pulled a funny face,
“Is it working?”
Paul just smiled and shook his head, “Yeah, okay, I forgive ya’, for now, but really, don’t follow people John, it’s concerning. I mean I was doing perfectly fine, I walk alone every day.”
“But how would you know that you wouldn’t get mugged today for a change?!”
“Because the only person that I know would want to mug me would be you, and you’re already following me.” John smirked at this comment, “Alright, you win.”
Paul grabbed John by the wrist and began sauntering away with him dragging behind, “Aye! What are you doing?” John questioned looking down at the younger boy. Paul stopped then looked up with his round girlish hazel eyes, the ones that John had become accustom to seeing at least once a day.
“Well, I’m taking you home, isn’t this what you wanted, you know, to hang out? That’s what the letter had to be for huh; you were just too scared to ask weren’t you.”
John pulled away his wrist and blushed bashfully, “Fine, if that’s what you want to believe, so be it.” He then straightened out his jacket before walking ahead of Paul like the cool-guy he tried to portray himself to be. Paul just shook his head in disbelief of his cockiness, and then soon caught up walking right next to him. It was mostly silent on the way back to Paul’s house, but Paul felt this weird pain of joy in his heart, as if something just collided in his mind and created something imaginable.
“Hey, Paul.”
“What John?”
“Do you mind not tellin’ anyone about me followin’ ya?”
This made him smile, “Yeah mate, you can trust me.”