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“Blimey, John! A whole bleeding stone?”
“Yes, Macca. A stone!” John called out from the living room, lounging on the couch in his boxers. “That’s what me scale told me, at least. I’m fairly certain it was even accurate this time, too!”
“That’s fantastic, love! I’m proud of you!” Paul exclaimed, giving his stir fry a good few flips on the stovetop. “And in only a few weeks, too. Now that’s some dedication.”
“Well…I kind of owe it to you, Paulie. I know I was a bit difficult at first when you started talkin’ all that “healthy eating” stuff, but now that I’m seeing changes, I know you weren’t just raggin’ on me.”
“I’m not trying to rag on you when I bring that stuff up, John. I just worry about you. You’re more than just my friend, y’know. You’re my lover, and I care about your health.”
John got quiet.
“I-I know that, love…it’s just…you know how much I love food…”
“Johnny, everybody loves food. You’ve just got to remember to pace yourself and mostly eat things that are good for you.”
“Yeah…I see that now…”
“And remember, it’s not always about completely ditching the foods you like, either. Some greasy fish and chips now and again never hurt anyone, but everyday? You have to admit that’s a bit much, darling...”
“O-Okay, I get it, Paulie…”
“You’ve got to think about where all those oils and fats go, I mean, they don’t just magically melt away overnight…”
“Paulie!”
Paul looked up from his wok.
“Hmm?”
“You’re beginning to sound like my father again…” John teased, flashing him a silly grin.
Paul giggled.
“Oh oops. I’m sorry, love...”
“It’s okay, lad. I still love you all the same…”
Paul blushed and smiled, tapping his wooden spoon on the side of the pan.
Today, the inside of Paul’s house was rather unkempt. Older, flipped-through editions of cooking magazines were messily sprawled out on the kitchen counter, a hamper piled high with overdue laundry sat in the hallway next to the bathroom, numerous empty beer bottles lined the sides of the couch, and a crusty ashtray filled with the remnants of leftover cigarettes (both standard and jazz) unflatteringly occupied the coffee table in front of John. The heavenly scent of sauteed veggies and teriyaki chicken wafted throughout the accompanying rooms, mingling clumsily with the redolence of old books, stale marijuana smoke, and two men quite obviously going without deodorant.
In short, things were messy. But it was indeed a cozy, lived-in kind of messy that a lot of times could only be shared amongst the closest of friends.
Case in point, John Lennon and Paul McCartney.
“Alright, dear. Get your nosebag on! Time for some lovely chicken and vege noodles!”
“Oh thank God. That smell was driving me crazy. I’m bloody starving…”
Paul sauntered out to the living room in his briefs, a full plate occupying each hand.
He slid John's portion onto the coffee table, and took a seat next to him on the couch, his bare thigh pressed up against his mate’s.
John chuckled.
“Dearie me…awfully close for comfort there, aren’t we, Mr. McCartney?”
Paul shot John a sultry look.
“You’ve never once complained about that…” He giggled.
“No…can’t say I have…though I will warn you, you’re quite literally in the blast zone right now…” John laughed, and before Paul could retort, he leaned over, lifting his bottom, and blasted out a mean rumble of a fart right in poor Paul’s direction.
*blaaaaAAAAATTT*
Paul’s face fell, and his hand went flying to his nose.
“Jesus Christ, John!” He exclaimed nasally. “Don’t fart in front of the food!”
“Oh calm down, dear! I’m just giving it a bit of flavor…” John teased, fanning his ass. “Wouldn’t be the first time you ate one of my farts and liked it, anyhow…”
Paul’s eyes narrowed at his mate, all the while John whirled noodles around his fork and started to gobble them messily.
“You’re the worst…” Paul grumbled.
John snickered, only to hold up a finger and lift his side once again.
“Oop! Not finished yet!”
Paul frantically shielded his plate with his hands.
*prrrRRRRTT*
“Ugh! John!”
“Ooh…what a relief…”
“Bloody hell…”
“Oh please! Don’t act like it’s just General Lennon dropping bombs over here. You started it with that little trouser cough you let out earlier!”
“John, I broke wind once, and it was barely audible! I wasn’t trying to blow away half of bloody England with it like you!”
“‘Barely audible’ my arse…her majesty could hear it from the throne, you know!”
Paul’s face reddened, and he crossed his arms, pouting.
“Fine. My tiny, pathetic squeak of a fart shook the royal palace. Happy?!”
John put his plate down and pulled Paul close.
“Macca…” He cooed, wrapping his arm around Paul’s shoulder. “I’m just giving you a hard time, love. I don’t care if you trump. We’re men. Men fart. And besides, it’s your house! You can dust crops all you want! If anything, you should be kicking me out onto the street for stinking it up!”
Paul smiled softly and pulled John in for a tender kiss on the cheek.
“I could never kick you out. I love you too much…”
“Yeh? You love me? Even my nasty farts?”
Paul giggled and rolled his eyes.
“Yes, John. Even your farts. They’re a part of you, aren’t they?”
“I suppose so…”
John paused. He lifted his finger again, and leaned in toward Paul, scrunching up his face.
*brrRRRAP*
“Ahhh…and they don’t seem to be going away any time soon! Hoooo-whee, that’s rotten!”
Paul chuckled and pinched his nose.
“Darling…” He jested, talking in his best flamboyant voice. “You’re breathtaking…I mean it, too. I simply can’t breathe in your presence…”
John snorted and let out a loud burp.
*urrRRP*
“Oh oops! Pardon me, love.”
“Why start apologizing now?” Paul laughed. And with that, he leaned in John's ear and let out a deafening, gurgly belch.
*eeeEEEYURRRP*
John flinched at the volume of Paul’s burp and snickered.
“Good gravy, Macca! Didja get any on ya?”
Paul smirked and chuckled, playfully raising his eyebrows. His face then lit up.
“Ooh, wait. I think I feel one…” He grunted, lifting his bum off the couch. “Hnnngh~”
*poooot~*
John rolled back on the couch in giggles.
“There he is!” John laughed. “There’s my happy, shameless boy. I knew he had to be around here somewhere!”
Paul erupted into giggles himself.
“My, it’s been quite a while since I’ve been this rude. It’s refreshing, really.”
“I bet.” John smiled, lifting his leg and returning the sentiment.
*prrRRRRT*
John and Paul cackled like schoolboys, playfully wafting each other’s noxious fumes toward the other.
“AHH! Fuck, John! That REEKS!”
“Yours don’t exactly smell like roses either, Macca! Phew!”
“ACK, NO! What are you doing?! Keep your stench away from my plate, you arse!”
No matter how much older they grew, no matter how rough times got, they always had each other…and their downright puerile senses of humor, of course.
It was childish.
It was gross.
But in a way, it was love. Pure, innocent, love.
No secrets.
No apologies.
No embarrassment.
They could both simply exist, unencumbered by the unrealistic expectations of society that surrounded them, demanding they tuck that silly, boyish portion of themselves away under a facade of feigned politeness.
And they could have fun doing it, too.
“Oi, Paul! Listen…”
John laid back on the couch, and pulled his legs up, aiming his ass right at Paul.
*pbbBbBbBbBLLLLT*
Paul flinched and looked away, his face dropping as the wet-sounding release bubbled out of his mate.
“Christ…” He laughed, burying his face in his hands. “That’s absolutely despicable! I knew it was a mistake lending you my hard-boiled egg maker…”
“Aye, but they’re so good! With just a pinch of salt and a sprinkle of pepper…mmm! I must’ve eaten enough to feed an entire army by now!”
“Well, you’ve certainly eaten enough to knock out an entire army…” Paul laughed, and the two men fell into each others’ arms, cackling away once more.
When the laughter stopped and dinner was finished, the boys wrapped around each other on the couch and relaxed. Paul rested his head on John's thigh, slowly rubbing the older man’s pudgy tummy.
“...John?”
“Yes, Macca?”
“This feels wonderful.”
“Aye. Indeed it does.”
“I never want it to end.”
“Me either.”
“You make me feel like a child again. All silly and giggly. I can’t say that about anyone else.”
John blushed.
“I wish we could stay like this forever…all lovely, and happy, and…”
“Farty?”
Paul chuckled.
“No, John…but…I don’t think I’d mind that, either…”
“Well, I’m always farty, so we’re…”
*brrrrAAAAAT*
“Ahhh…halfway there!”
Paul chuckled, then looked at John, his face contorted into a tight scowl.
*prrRRRTT*
“Oof…indeed…I just brought us a little step closer!” Paul giggled.
John snickered and pulled Paul in more, squeezing his buttcheek. He raised his eyebrows playfully, then leaned in close to his mate, his nose touching his.
“Who says it can’t last forever, Macca?”
“The rest of England, John."
“Fuck the rest of England. It can be just the two of us, against the world, like always. I don’t care if people are okay with us being together, it’s not up to them anyhow. For once, it’s about us and what we want. If they want to shame two men and the beautiful love they share simply because they’re both men, then so be it. But we won’t let them keep us from being happy…”
“Amen…” Paul agreed, leaning over and punctuating his statement with another squeaky blast.
*toooooot~*
“Goodness, Macca…that one sounded like it was curious…”
“You’re insufferable, Lennon…” Paul chuckled behind his hand.
John just grinned and planted a gentle kiss on Paul’s lips, with it inevitably morphing into a soft, wet mingling of tongues. They shared playful snickers as they held each other, skin brushing against skin in a needy, yet relaxed embrace. It was magic.
*urrRRRG*
That is, until John's stomach let out a deafening gurgle.
He broke away from Paul and clutched his tum, groaning.
“Ohhh damn…there’s that pain again…”
“Pain? What pain?” Paul inquired worrily.
“Me stomach has been gurglin’ all afternoon…” John sighed. “I’ve been a bit backed up. I haven’t been able to shite since before I left to drive over here.”
Paul blushed.
“That’s not good…”
“Nah it ain’t…’had plenty of farts though!” John smiled, cocking a thigh.
*blaaaat*
Paul laughed and rubbed John's belly.
“I can see that, love…”
“I’m not sure what could’ve done it…I’ve been eating a lot of rice lately, but I figured the veggies and fruit I’ve been eating would counteract that. Does rice give you any trouble?”
Paul shrugged.
“Eh…well…sometimes…”
*gurrRrRrRGLE*
“Ohh bloody hell…”
Paul pressed his ear to John's middle and listened as his stomach bubbled and blorped, obviously struggling to digest.
“Oof. Your poor tum definitely sounds like it could use some help. I might have some prune juice in the fridge if you think that would make things better…”
“Eeyuck! No way.” John groaned. “Bloody hate the stuff…”
“Hmm…I might have something in the medicine cabinet we can give you…perhaps Milk of Magnesia?”
“UGH! That’s even worse!”
“What about Castol Oil?”
“Pfft! Get real, Paulie…”
Paul chuckled.
“I hate to alarm you, Johnny, but we’re kinda running out of options…”
*urrrRRGGGG*
“Oh Christ, make it stop!” John whined, doubling over in pain.
*pbbBbBbBbLT*
Paul slapped his thighs and got up off the couch.
“Let me check the fridge. I’m sure I have something in there for someone as picky as you…”
Paul rummaged through his refrigerator, reading off each label under his breath.
“Let’s see…orange juice, no…cranberry juice, no, that’s more for the bladder…apple ju-Hey! Johnny, how about apple juice?”
“Apple juice? Do you really think that would help?”
“I could’ve sworn I read something about it being good for constipation in an issue of Men’s Health Digest. Why not give it a shot?”
Paul poured John a tall glass and brought it out, setting it gently on the table.
“Go on, love. Drink up.”
John raised the glass to his lips and swilled it down, following it up with a loud belch.
*bruUUUUP*
“Oh, that’s good…” He hummed.
Paul chuckled in response and laid back down next to him, rubbing and caressing his friend’s bloated paunch and occasionally planting kisses around his belly button.
“Just relax, love…” Paul whispered. “Allow me to assist you…”
John nodded and smiled as Paul gently massaged his tummy, breaking away only for the occasional peck on the cheek or open-mouthed kiss.
Could John have done it himself? Maybe. But Paul’s gentle kindness and eager willingness to try and soothe him always made his heart melt.
He’d be a fool to say no, especially when it involved Paul sucking tenderly on his nipples, which he was currently in the middle of doing.
John's breath hitched as he felt his friend’s teeth gently graze his sensitive areola.
“Oh…FUCK, Paul!”
Paul giggled and kept it up, nipping and suckling at the soft, sweaty skin like a hungry newborn puppy.
John slid his hand under Paul’s chin and pulled him close for a kiss on the lips, which the younger man gladly welcomed and reciprocated. He kept stroking John's belly as he did so, heating up as his rumbly, agitated stomach angrily bubbled beneath his hand, absolutely impossible to ignore.
*eeeeurrRGGGG*
*bloooort*
*gurrrRRGLE*
It was clear the juice was starting to make its way through him, and to help relieve the pressure, John lifted his leg and blasted a vile bout of air into the sofa cushions.
*blaAaAaAaAaP*
“Jesus…” he moaned. “Sorry in advance, Paulie. That one’s definitely gonna stick around for a while…”
Paul was too strung up to care it seemed, simply giving John a friendly smile before leaning back down and smooching the bloat yet again.
*prrrrAAAPPP*
A loud, airy release escaped John and he chuckled, fanning it away.
“Oof…that’s diabolical, Johnny…you should see a doctor…”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with me…” John sneered back. “...Just full of shite as always…” He laughed.
Paul cackled and pressed his lips to John's once again, only to be interrupted by another fart, this time sounding rather concerning.
*blaaaaAAAAAAAT*
*squelch*
John's eyes grew big and he quickly pulled away.
“Aw, fuck! I think I’m starting to crown…” He groaned. “Which way’s the bathroom again?”
“Down the hall and to the left, darling…”
John smiled and cupped Paul’s cheek in his hand.
*sigh*
“Thank you, Macca…”
“Of course, John. I love you…”
“I love you too…”
*pbbbbBBLLT*
*squish*
“Oh! Bloody hell!” John exclaimed, tearing off to the loo. Paul just sat back on the couch and giggled, shaking his head.
Yup. There were certainly no secrets left in this relationship.