Disclaimer: I do not own the Beatles.
John lounges on his messy, unmade bed, his limbs sprawled out in all directions and tangled in the sheets. Paul lies on his back on a pile of quilts which would serve as his bed for the night, or so Mimi thought. Both boys knew that the second she retired to her bedroom for the night, usually at nine-thirty, their raging teenage hormones would take over, thus driving them insane with lust. After a long, tedious week of school for Paul and college for John that resulted in approximately an hour of romance, a longing ache to touch and be touched became a prominent need.
The radio hums the latest Elvis tune faintly above John's head, the words barely audible despite being turned to maximum volume. He yawns loudly and rubs his eyes with curled fists, then stretches his arms above his head. "Time?" he asks Paul, too lazy to turn his head to check the clock himself.
Paul groans and props himself up on his elbow. His eyes squint to read the tiny lettering on the face of John's ancient alarm clock. "About 9:25, I think," he concludes.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," John chuckles. Already he's excited for the coming hours.
"It's a bad thing for you," Paul saucily replies, flourishing with a wink before settling back onto the puffy blankets.
John smiles devilishly and licks his lips. "Is it, now?"
"Yes, it is," Paul says. He rolls over onto his side to face John. "Very bad. I'm going to make you see stars, my love."
John shakes his head, frowning sadly, almost painfully. "No, you're not."
"What do-"
A soft knock interrupts Paul's sentence. Both boys lay motionless for a moment before John speaks up. "Yes?"
Mimi pokes her head inside the bedroom. Her eyes flutter first to John then to Paul, as if to make sure they were alive. John widens his eyes to urge the woman to the point, since he has better things to do than listen to her babble.
After another brief, slightly awkward silence, Mimi clears her throat. To Paul, she barks, "If you need more blankets then don't be afraid to take John's. He won't wake up. That boy sleeps like the living dead!"
"Mimi," John whines dramatically. Paul nods a thank you and forces a yawn. His boyfriend smirks and reaches down to his crotch, teasingly unzipping his trousers as he keeps a watchful eye on Mimi. She blows her nephew a kiss, unaware of his doings, then closes the door gently behind her.
Paul locks eyes with John as he listens intently to the pitter-patter of Mimi's light footsteps. John sits up on his bed to listen better for the anticipated creak of the bedroom door closing. He waits patiently with Paul for what feels like forever with their raging hormones and lust-filled minds, which only really lasted a handful of seconds.
The second the loud creak interrupted the tense silence, John hops off of his infamously loud bed and onto the floor in front of Paul. John smiles as he walks his hands forward, forcing Paul to lie back. Paul grabs John's collar and pulls his face close. John can feel Paul's breath on his lips, which drives him crazy.
"How much do you want me to kiss you?" Paul breathes seductively. He places his other hand on the back of John's thigh. "Tell me."
John takes Paul's face roughly in his hands, tugging on the younger boy's hair lightly. "So much."
"How much do you want me to touch you?" Paul purrs, moving his hand farther up John's leg.
"A lot," John manages to choke out. He drops his hands from Paul's face and gracefully lets them wander south.
Paul moans at John's delicate touch and forcefully kisses his boyfriend. They topple backwards, landing with John firmly planted on top of Paul's thin body. He hovers over his boyfriend, mouth agape. His shaggy hair falls in front of his eyes and Paul brushes it away.
John tangles his feet in with Paul's and lowers himself downwards, so his weight is even distributed without crushing his love. "I love you," he whispers in Paul's ear then presses a trail of feather light kisses from his earlobe to the base of his neck.
Paul tangles his fingers in John's hair. He says, "I love you, you idiotic bastard who stole my heart."
As revenge for Paul's words, John bites on a sweet spot and sucks on it, leaving a red mark behind. Paul groans and bends his knees, allowing John to settle in between his legs. He fumbles with the buttons on John's shirt and successfully yanks the worn fabric off of John's muscular, yet pudgy, torso and arms. He runs his hands up and down the newly exposed skin. Seconds later, Paul's shirt joins the discard pile.
"My turn," John grins as he grinds his hips into Paul's lightly, enjoying the friction. "How much do you want me to shag you?"
Paul groans as he grabs the growing bulge in between John's legs. "Too much," he moans.
John pecks Paul on the lips, and then dives back in for a passionate, sloppy kiss. He pulls away quickly, a thread of saliva connecting his mouth to Paul's, and whispers, "Well, that's going to have to wait until tomorrow afternoon. You're too loud when people are actually around. Did you know that Fishy is part bat too?"