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I Write This Song For You

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John Lennon was not known for being a punctual person.

He was a music teacher, always arriving late, yet he managed to teach teens good songs and to play instruments and was deeply loved by all his students.

Today wasn't an exception and John was running late yet again.

Luckily he got a free hour before his first class and could chill in the teacher's lounge and work on some music sheets he had printed.

 

He stumbled into the room, almost falling down due to the weight of his backpack and guitar case, laughing loudly as someone, his friend Ritchie, quickly grabbed onto his thin arm, preventing him to fall face first into the floor.

"Hi, Richie!" he chirped, throwing the guitar and the bag onto a nearby chair.

"Hi, John. Late yet again, are we?" giggled Richard, sipping his coffee.

John nodded gratefully at the cup that was passed to him, before his eyes caught on a young man standing awkwardly to the side, twisting his hands.

"Who's that?" he asked curiously and his heart started beating faster at the sight of that beautiful man.

"Oh! Umh, my name is Paul McCartney. I'm the new English teacher" he said, blushing slightly.
"Oh. I'm John Lennon, music teacher. Nice to meet you, Paul" he said, sticking out his hand for the other to shake.

Paul smiled, shaking his hand with a small blush on his cheeks, and John could feel his own cheeks reddening. "Nice to meet you too, John"

 

'Keep your cool, Lennon. You're just colleagues, you don't even know him yet' he scolded himself, willing his flush away.

 

Richard, who knew John perfectly, could almost feel his thought and giggled.
"Okay, I have to go" he said merrily, skipping out of the room.
The two stayed in silence, both busy doing something, but looks were shared silently, both looking away with a small blush.

"So, Paul, are you from here?" asked eventually John, looking up from the lyrics of an Elvis's song he had printed for his students.

Paul looked up, his big doe like eyes twinkling.
"I'm actually from Liverpool, but I moved to London a few months ago"
John's eyes widened, "I'm from Liverpool too!" he exclaimed happily, "and so is my friend Richard"

His heart skipped a beat as Paul got closer to take a look at the papers spread on the table in front of the slightly older man.

"Elvis? I love him! I thought I was the only one who still listened to him" his eyes were now shining with happiness, his cheeks still red, but little dimples forming on his cheeks.

'Cute' thought John, his own eyes bright with happiness as butterflies were forming into his belly.

"I'm trying to teach young generation about old classic rock music. Not only old piano shit, but also good music" he explained, one hand twirling around the little beads of the necklace he was wearing, a present from Cynthia, his now ex wife.

 

"That's nice! Kids nowadays just listen to horrible music" agreed Paul, nodding his head.

"How old are you, John?" asked suddenly the dark haired man, taking in the other man's appearance.

 

He was tall, just a bit shorter than Paul himself, and quite thin.
His hair was quite long, bangs messily falling on his forehead and sticking out in every direction.
It was messy, but made him look quite hot, in the other man's eyes. It was also a beautiful auburn colour, with a reddish tint in the mix.

He was wearing a pair of old, faded jeans and pair of Snickers on his feet, one thin leg crossed over the other.
His upper torso was covered in a white shirt and he was also wearing a black tie.

He looked the perfect mix between careless beauty and professionalism.

His wrists were covered in bracelets, mostly colourful, Jamaican ones and a little necklace could be seen by his neck.

But the thing that really caught Paul's eyes were his eyes:
Those pools of dark hazel, contoured by longish eyelashes. They were slightly slanted and shining happily.

Paul couldn't resist those eyes.

"I'm 30, just turned it a few weeks ago" answered John with a smile.
"I'm 28" blurted out Paul, blushing darkly and the older man giggled.

He was about to say something, but the bell started ringing, breaking the moment.

"I have to go to class, Paul. It was nice talking with you"

And with that, John was gone, along with his guitar, music sheets and Paul's heart.

"Yes, very nice" mumbled Paul in the now empty room, gaze still held in front of him, where John had been sitting.

 

For the rest of the day, John was the only thing Paul could think of.

He was back in the teachers lounge, after finishing his first lesson in that school when a sudden thought popped into his mind.

He scrambled on his feet, walking towards a big drawer, opening it with his heart in his throat.

He was doing something kind of illegal and he could get in trouble if discovered.

He started looking through the folders, until he found the one he was looking for.

His heart skipped a beat and he smiled happily, putting away the folder and gathering his things, quickly getting out of the room, whistling a happy tune.

 

A few days had passed, John and Paul passing more time together, getting to know each other a bit.

One evening, they were in a pub, drinking something together, when outside it started heavily rain.

"Oh shit" exclaimed Paul, looking out.
He had walked to school, not bringing his umbrella, because it was a sunny day.

Stupid British weather.

 

"C'mon, Paul. Let's go to my house, it's closer" proposed John, looking into Paul's big eyes.

Even if Paul protested, saying that he didn't want to interrupt John's evening, the man had managed to convince him, making Paul blush because of the words he had said.

"I love spending time with you. I enjoy your company so much, plus, we can drink some more at me house" smiled goofily the older man.

 

And here they were now, walking up the stairs towards the older man's house.

He stayed right behind him as he turned the key and opened the door, stepping into the house with his heart beating fast.

 

Small footsteps sounded into the room and Paul saw as John's neck was attacked by two sets of small arms.

"Daddy!"
"You're finally home, daddy! Uncle Brian is soo boring!"

John laughed, and stepped up from his crouched position and Paul smiled brightly at the sight of a little boy sitting on John's hip, small arms holding on the man's shoulders.

Another, older looking, child was standing by John's side, one hand gripping his father's trousers as he was shyly hiding from the stranger.

"Hi there!" cheered Paul, looking at the two children.

The older one was the carbon copy of John, with the same auburn hair, though straight, and big almond shaped brown eyes.
He was wearing an AC/DC t-shirt and grey pyjama trousers.

The younger one, who had weaved shyly at Paul and had now hid his chubby face into the crock of John's neck, had jet black hair and also big slanted brown eyes.

"Jules, love, go get your bag" he said to his older boy, who pouted.

"But daddy!" he whined, "I don't want to go with mom! Can't I stay here with you tonight too?" he asked, sounding sad.

John let the younger child out of his arms, also telling him to go and grab his things.

"Love, mom wants to see you and Sean. Tomorrow night, you can stay here, okay?" he asked and Paul's heart bursted in fondness at the soft voice John was using to comfort his child.

The boy nodded, hugging him, before going out with the bag his little brother had brought him.

Paul's eyes locked onto the woman standing in the hallway talking with John, the black haired child into her arms, and Jules sadly looking his father.

With a last kiss on the woman's cheek and on both children's head, the door closed behind John.

 

"Is everything alright, Johnny?" softly asked Paul, looking sadly at his friend.

John shrugged, "Kind of peachy. It saddens me every time Jules and Sean had to go away and leave me alone, but I'm not selfish and I know that their mom wants to see them" he said, sitting on the sofa next to Paul.

They started playing around on John's rhythmic guitar, singing together on some Elvis songs, laughing and enjoying each other presence.

"What about you? Got any child?"

Paul shook his head, "Not really. Girls aren't really my thing, y'know?" he said with a small laugh.

John laughed too, "I like tits. But I also like cocks. When I figured it out, Sean was just a newborn. Luckily my wife was very understanding" he explained. "Our divorce was a friendly thing, we're still quite close even if we don't love each other anymore, y'know?"

"You were very young when Jules was born, weren't you?" asked gently Paul, leaning closer.

They were sitting right next to the other, thighs touching.
Their drinks were abandoned on the coffee table in front of them, guitar laying forgotten too.

"20 when Jules was born and 25 when Sean was born" said John with a shrug, "I was stupid, a kid myself. But the boys are the best thing that could ever happen to me." Another shrug.

"I bet you're a wonderful father. I can tell that they love you very much"
John laughed, "I hope that too"

 

A comfortable silence spread between them.

Paul's heart started beating faster.

'It's now or never' he thought.

 

He started leaning down, pressing his lips onto John's warm ones, his eyes closening as John's widened.

'It's perfect…'