a fragile muse

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/52693441.

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: The Beatles (Band)
Relationship: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Characters: Paul McCartney, John Lennon
Additional Tags: First Kiss, Drunken Confessions, Emotionally Repressed, Bittersweet,
Short One Shot
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-12-31 Words: 658 Chapters: 1/1
 a fragile muse
by boneslen

Summary

John says I love you first.

Paul kisses him first.

(circa mid-1970s)

Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Face red from the drink, even ears tinged pink, John leaned closer. His eyes, although glazed
over, still locked onto Paul. His every little movement.

That pink mouth parted:

"I love you."

Paul flushed a deep red, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as he gripped the back of
the couch. His eyes didn't leave John either.

"Don't," he muttered—

"I love you," John repeated, words as earnest as they were drunk. "I don't care. About any of
them. About everyone. About...any of it."

Paul's next words came out like a warning. "Don't, John. You can't..."

Yet John never stuck to the rules. He never cared for them. Nothing could scare him. Nothing
but—

"Paul," he exhaled, the word tumbling out naturally from his lips. Like it belonged to him.
"Paul, please. I don't care about any of it," his raspy voice, thick with emotion, "I love you,
always have...y'know that...."

He did.

They were inches apart, John practically on top of Paul, and Paul back against the side of the
armrest. He was stiff, unsure, afraid. John was flexible and pliant, like a cat, his sharp body
digging into Paul's, those bony elbows and knees finding nooks in Paul's softer body to help
him up as he nearly climbed up him, desperate to find his way to Paul's face.

Paul stared down at John, at those hazel eyes softly guarded by the round-rimmed glasses.

"I've always loved you," John continued, seeing Paul's hesitation and repression even with
the alcohol numbing his mind. John had always been good at that. "I've always....you've
always—you've always been it, yeah? It's always been you."

Oh God. And he always knew what to say.

Paul kissed him then, leaning down quickly and pressing his half-open mouth to John's,
capturing the shocked breath that John exhaled, seconds before he kissed back, passionate
and pleading and messy. Paul let his eyes close, just feeling John, just feeling his hands on his
hips then chest then face then hair, just feeling his desperate mouth on his and then every
other part of his body. Just feeling John's love for him. It was beautiful.

Paul held him so carefully, a fragile muse, running his fingers along John's shaking back, up
to his neck, up to his beautiful, beautiful face that was becoming wet with tears of catharsis
and pleasure. Paul tried to wipe them away, tried to hold the drops on his thumb as John wept
and continued to kiss him.

"Oh, John..." It was all that Paul could manage.

He let his hands tangle themselves in the caramel-gold curls of John's lovely hair, hair that
had been cut much shorter from when Paul had last seen him years ago. He fingered at the
blunt edges that curled around the base of John's neck, its length unfamiliar to what Paul
remembered at the end of their time together as a duo, yet a simultaneous nod to the past
when they were just foolish boys with foolish haircuts.

Paul let his mouth mingle an inch away. "I like your hair," he muttered softly.

He felt John's smile against him and the slight huff of exasperated but fond breath. "Thank
you, darling."

Darling.

They went back to kissing and Paul went back to touching John's hair. Oh God. His nose
brushed John's glasses, and it was everything Paul had ever imagined. John's thin thighs
against his, his jittery hands roaming every inch of Paul's skin, his small moans that Paul
could live off for the rest of his life.

Fucking ecstasy.

"I love you," John said again, soft and short in between their many kisses. "I love you, I love
you, I love you..."

Paul loved him too. More than anything. More than any lover, more than any song.

I love you too. Paul held the words back. They died on his tongue as he slipped it between
John's lips.
End Notes

apologies this is so short, I just wanted to write a little something :) I've seen interviews with
Paul regretting not telling John he loved him and I wanted to play with that a little. thank you
for reading :)

Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!