Chapter Text
John was not quite sure about what had happened. But Paul had become a dog.
A heaving, black and white dog with droopy ears stared at him with an intense look.
John's neck started to sweat. There was no way his day could be as fucked as this.
His legs gave over and he fell softly on his arse, without looking away from the dog. From Paul. From his best friend .
“John,” he heard Ringo call in an uncertain voice and he looked behind himself, at Ringo and George, who were standing in the doorway with rather horrified looks.
“He's a dog,” he said in a feeble voice; a sentence that he had thought he would never have to utter aloud.
“Paul's turned into a dog,” George said in an empty voice and Ringo let out a sigh that told of a million emotions that all expressed suffering.
They stared at Paul, who stared at them, and John swallowed. Right. There was at least one thing that he had to make clear, first.
“Now,” he said through gritted teeth, “I get it that you're a dog.”
The dog stared at him in a way that made John very uncomfortable. George and Ringo were shuffling closer, wearing similar expressions of sudden soul-filling emptiness.
“I get it that you're a dog,” John repeated, swallowed with sand in his throat and buried his face against his palm, letting out a sigh. Then he continued in a faint, strangled voice.
“But if you hump anyone, I'm gonna kill you.”
The dog let out a bark that sounded like laughter. George and Ringo jumped. John screamed inwardly.
Paul had really, actually, unbearably become a dog .
“What are we gonna do?” George asked with a rather small voice. Ringo let out a small groan and sat down on the floor.
“Buy him a collar,” the drummer stated and all three other heads in the bedroom turned to face him.
“A collar?” John echoed in a blank voice. Paul let out a small, short whine that sounded like the same question.
“Yeah, well, obviously we can't have 'im running about free,” Ringo raised his eyebrows. “It would make people question a lot more.”
“I thought,” John paused and collected up his courage, “that it would be so that he couldn't cause any destruction.”
“No,” Ringo grinned, “that would've been the case with you.”
John let out a sigh, his shoulders collapsing. George let out a snort that resembled a snicker, and the dog - Paul half barked, half howled. It was clear, evil laughter.
“I wouldn't wanna put him into a collar though,” John grimaced. “It would feel so wrong to do it to your best mate.”
Before he could do anything else, the dog jumped on him. He fell to the floor and then there was a tongue licking all over his face, wetting him.
“Aah! No! Off!” John yelled and squirmed, trying to push the animal -HIS BEST FRIEND away. Ringo was laughing now freely and George was muttering with a humorous tone in his voice, 'well, this is kind of wrong as well'.
Paul finally seemed to catch on to what he was doing, stepped back, and sat neatly, his tail waving and a large smile on his mouth. John rose to his elbows and wiped his face with his arm.
“Yuck,” he said. “Paul, that was just disgusting.”
Paul didn’t think to seem so. He barked, his tail moving in a literally inhuman speed.
“What are we gonna say to Brian?” Ringo frowned.
“I’ll come up with something,” John said in a feeble voice. “I don’t have any other choices anyway, now do I? Besides, he saved my arse the last time this happened. It’s only fair I help him out.”
The next moment he knew Paul was licking him again and George and Ringo decided to make a retreat into a dog-less area. There was only so much of looking at Paul licking John that they could take.
*~**~*
“Paul went to a love hotel???” Brian looked scandalised. John shrugged and played with his fingers.
“Er,” he said, “Yes. I- You know how he is. A girl waves her skirt at him and he’ll go.”
Brian didn’t look very convinced. Then he turned his head down and stared at the dog that was sitting at John’s feet, looking content.
“And- your new friend?” he asked and sounded like he really did not necessarily want to know. John pulled up the fakest and the cheesiest smile ever.
“A friend asked me to take care of him.”
Brian was suspicious. John could see it from his face.
“And his name?”
John’s thoughts ran slower than a car without wheels. He kept the smile on, tilted his head slightly and raised an eyebrow.
“Um, P-… Pinocchio?” He tried to look convincing and the dog barked. John almost glared down at him, feeling his neck starting to sweat.
“He needs to be in a leash,” Brian said, and John felt his heart fall. If Brian said so, he couldn’t probably get himself out of it. Or Paul.
After their manager had left, Paul let out a downright sad whine. John frowned, sighed, and patted the dog on the head, which seemed to cheer his friend up immediately.
“Don’t worry pal,” he said, “I’ll figure out something. There’s nothing that can happen inside the hotel, right? I’m gonna keep you free.”
*~**~*
Paul!!
Was a dog!!!
It was so exciting!!!
Oh, and John was so nice!! He smelled so good! And the carpet was soft! John’s bed smelled good!
John petted him! It was so gear! Paul never wanted it to stop!
Everything looked so nice! Even John’s socks smelled nice! Wow!!!
What?! John stepped on his tail! It huuuuurt??! Was it Paul’s fault?? Was he on the way?? Did he hurt John?!
But John apologised! It was an accident! He petted Paul some more! Paul loved him!!!
“You react too much like a dog,” John said!
“I am a dog!!” Paul answered! John rolled his eyes!
“I suppose you’re cursing me to hell right now.” The man sighed! And petted Paul more! Yes!!
“No! I love you!!” Paul barked and jumped up! He wanted to lick John’s face! He wanted to be petted by John!
Ooooohhh!!! The door opened!! THE DOOR OPENED!!!
IT WAS GEORGE!!!
“George!!!” Paul shouted and went to George! He wanted to lick George’s face! He wanted to be petted by George!
BEHIND GEORGE CAME RINGO!!!!!
RINGO!!!!!
He wanted to lick Ringo's face! He wanted to be petted by Ringo!!
“I have a feeling that Paul is gonna get a stroke from over-excitement if this continues,” John sighed from the other side of the room and Paul wanted to be petted by him!! Oh! Such a nice, soft carpet!
Oh, if only somebody would pet his stomach!! That would be so nice!!!
*~**~*
“It feels like he’s being... over-enthusiastic over everything,” George said after they had arranged themselves on the carpet, Paul lying half in John’s lap with his legs pointing straight towards the ceiling. John was rather reluctantly stroking the dog’s stomach, since Paul had looked at him with such expectant eyes after having flipped over. Ugh. Great.
“Then again,” Ringo said slowly, “John was overly chaotic, so maybe it’s part of the deal?”
“Was he, though?” George raised an eyebrow and John groaned.
“I’ve said I’m sorry! It was just- it was just that I wanted to-”
“-Create havoc and destruction?” Ringo deadpanned and John shut his mouth. Well. Wasn’t that basically what he had wanted?
They sat in silence for a while where Paul looked blissfully happy and the others not so much. John’s brain was turning the situation over and over, and somehow, he came to some kind of a conclusion about Paul’s... behaviour.
“Y’know,” he said and to get Paul’s attention as well stopped petting him for a moment. Paul cast him an accusing glare. “I think that’s exactly why he’s like this at the moment.”
“A dog?” George looked confused. John huffed.
“No. Excited.”
“Ah.”
They stared at each other and then Paul let out a small whine, nuzzling his head against John’s thigh. John sighed and continued stroking his... friend’s stomach.
“Because, er, I had these urges. I had a huge want to get into that jar. And- and to be in warm and tight places-”
“-And to create havoc and destruction...”
Ringo and George high-fived each other and John fixed a glare at them that even Paul couldn’t muster.
“We’re listening,” the other two humans in the room said at the same time, although looking close to breaking into snickers.
“What I mean to say, is that I just- it felt like there was some sort of a... cat inside me telling what would be fun to do,” John tried to get them back on serious tracks, but George and Ringo were nodding their heads in an overly understanding way, George saying “yes, yes” to John’s words. John sighed and decided that he should just give up.
“So basically,” Ringo said then, looking like something dawned on him, “what you mean is that at the moment, Paul is- there is a dog in him telling him what would be... fun?”
“More like,” John looked down at Paul, who had closed his eyes and seemed to have passed on into heaven, “he’s more or less thinking like a dog right now.”
“Paul’s overly excited about everythin’ in general,” George muttered, having stopped trying to ridicule John for a moment. “Think about how it must be when he’s a dog.”
The three of them sat in silence and looked at Paul, and then at each other.
“Let’s just keep him away from... everyone,” John swallowed and the others nodded. “Also, I need something that has at least 12 per cent of alcohol in it right now. Please.”
“Maybe you’ve earned it,” Ringo muttered.
John agreed so much.
*~**~*
George fetched them a bottle and they took ordinary glasses instead of wine glasses. John grabbed Paul and started moving him a bit to make way for the alcohol. The... lad? Was like jelly in his hands.
“I got a feelin’ that he’s a bit easier than John in any case,” George said as he started filling the three glasses. John sighed, resting his hand on top of Paul a bit absentmindedly. His fur was warm and soft and John had to admit that it was nice to have a warm animal nested up to the side of his leg.
“I think anything is easier than John,” Ringo said cheerfully and John sighed. So, they were still not finished.
“Well,” he said, trying to ease the stinging guilt in his chest (that was totally unjustified. He had loved being a cat), “Paul has been a very good boy, so far.”
He reached for a glass of wine and Paul jumped on him at that moment.
“Paul!!!” he yelled and the wine sloshed around, wetting the carpet. Paul scrambled closer to him, trying to get as close as possible while licking his face uncontrollably. “No! Down! Paul!!!”
“Oops,” George said and watched how Paul’s tail hit the wine bottle. The bottle toppled over and all its contents spilt on the carpet. “There ye go-!”
Paul jumped back immediately, turned to look at the fallen wine bottle, and his whole mood changed.
His ears pressed against his skull, he sat back with his head lowering, and his expression was the guiltiest that John had ever seen.
Huh.
“Oh,” Ringo said and sipped his wine, “look how guilty he is.”
“So different from John,” George said and sipped his own wine.
“Right? He feels it in his very core that he’s been bad.”
“Even though it was an accident.”
“Guys,” John groaned and turned quickly towards Paul. “It’s fine, Paul. It was an accident-”
Okay. He couldn’t be mad at someone who looked so horrified of their mistake. Especially if that someone was a dog. Even though technically he wasn’t.
Paul looked at him with eyes that were utterly miserable. John moaned.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said and reached out his hands instinctively, stroking Paul under his both ears. “C’mon. I’ll clean it up.”
“Isn’t it sweet how nice John is being?” Ringo asked and sipped his wine. George nodded.
“He’s probably guilty.”
“John? Guilty? I’m waiting to see that day-”
“Guys!” John hissed and George and Ringo started laughing. Bastards. It was already a week since John had been a cat! There was no need for this anymore!
He stood up with a sigh and took the empty bottle from the floor. It was better to tell Brian that there had been an accident.
*~**~*
Paul felt like he was bursting!
He ran from John to the door, whined and ran again! He had to pee! He wanted- He had a huge urge to- to-
“I guess,” Ringo said slowly, looking at him, “that Paul wants to go out.”
OUT??!
OUT!!!!!
A WALK??? YES!!! A WALK!!!!
“You’re probably right,” John muttered and looked at Paul with an uncomfortable expression! Why?? Paul didn’t know! Going out was exactly what he wanted!!! He wanted it!!! Wanted it!!!!! OUT!!!!!
“Gee, Paul, calm down,” John said and stood up- Standing up meant that they were going out! OUT!!
“You’re gonna have to keep him away from people,” George said and offered a leash to John! A leash!! It meant they were going OUT!!!
“Why is it me who has to go with him?” John looked sour, but Paul didn’t mind! Paul loved John!! He wanted to lick him to show it! “Down, Paul- You can’t just jump on me like that-”
“I have a feeling that all the sensible thoughts have really left him,” Ringo said with a frown! What!? ????
“No! I’m intelligent! I’m a dog!!” Paul told him! Said it right to his face!! Yes he did! Paul was such a good boy!
“I think he disagrees,” John snickered and then! He put a collar on Paul’s throat!
Aaaah!!
A collar??!?!?
Something, deep in the pit of his mind, calmed down.
His freedom had been taken.
He sat down to wait and analysed the situation.
He was a dog.
He had to admit that it was pretty grand.
He lifted his face and looked at John expectantly. They were going out, right? What was John waiting for? Why weren’t they out already? Paul really, really had a huge urge to go out.
“Okay,” John said, “I’m just gonna go to the loo first-”
“That is so bloody unnecessary,” Paul said, “why’d you put on the leash??”
John glanced down at him and sighed.
“I’m just gonna go to the loo first,” he said firmly and Paul let out a displeased whine. John was so cruel!
His mind was rather calm and balanced, but he was growing frustrated. He wanted out. Out. Out. For a walk-
‘Are these those urges that John talked about?’ he wondered and noticed that he was currently scratching the bedroom door and whining. Huh. When had that happened?
Well, if it were the urges, then John would understand. Paul could not be held accountable for… anything.
And besides, wasn’t he supposed to have his revenge on John as well?
Huh. When had he started barking and howling right next to the bathroom door? John was sure taking his time.
“I’m coming, coming…” John called and then moments later he stepped out. YES!!! IT WAS JOHN-
Paul took a deep breath and calmed himself down. Well. He might have been running around John’s legs like mad, but that was beside the point. His mind was calm.
“Can’t even take a shit in peace,” John muttered and went to put on his jacket. No, he could not. Not when Paul was going OUT!!!
“Have fun!” Ringo called from Paul’s bed where he had made himself a comfortable reading area. George was occupying John’s bed, his guitar in his lap. They both had their glasses of wine on nightstands, and now they simultaneously took sips while raising their eyebrows at each other.
“Can’t wait that one of you turns into a turtle,” John said quietly in a sour voice and took the leash.
YES!!! YES!!!! THEY WERE GOING OUT! A WALK!!! A WALK!!!!
John opened the door and Paul found out that choking himself on a leash was not very nice.
“Christ, Pa- Pinocchio,” John dug his heels into the ground to keep himself from falling face first into the corridor, “calm down.”
Paul wanted to go forward. Why was John being so slow? Why weren’t they running? The corridor was long and Paul ached to run to the other side of it with full speed on. HE WANTED IT SO MUCH. Was this how John had felt about the jar? Paul wanted to run. He wanted to go out. He wanted to run.
*~**~*
John wasn’t sure how they made it outside without being seen. He made sure that there were no fans visible when he sneaked out from a side door, Paul wheezing like an old man when he just couldn’t stop choking himself on the leash that Brian had brought them. Maybe it was a kink, but John knew better. Paul just couldn’t probably help it.
He didn't know much about dogs, or about walking them. Was he supposed to find a park where he could let Paul run free? What if Paul (John shuddered at the thought) shat in the middle of a road? What if he saw another dog and wanted to smell its arse?
Life was so full of wonderful things, and this was what John had ended up with. Protecting his best friend from sniffing dog arses.
“D'you have any idea where we're going?” he asked from Paul, who didn't seem to be listening. He pulled, and tugged, and wheezed, and heaved, and then stopped.
He pushed his nose against the wall, sniffed a bit, and then-
“Paul,” John hissed and Paul's leg froze in mid-air. “You're not a dog!!!”
John was only protecting Paul from embarrassing himself. He was also protecting his own eyes from seeing sacred things.
Paul turned a freezing look on him, his lips turned up into a smile, and then he started peeing.
John groaned, closing his eyes, a pained expression passing on his face. Great. He should probably put up a sign “Paul McCartney peed here” and people would pay to get to lick that part of the wall. John would become rich overnight.
He had no time to think about his plan further, as Paul had finished his business and off he went!
The leash disappeared from John's hand and he was left staring stupidly as the dog vanished into the horizon.
*~**~*
“He has to be a loyal dog, right?” John said with a broken, desperate voice. An old man sitting next to him on the park bench patted him on the knee with a sympathising sound.
“Usually dogs come back to those they love,” he said in an old, wise voice. John groaned and shook his head.
“I'm pretty sure he hates me at the moment,” he sighed and the old man chuckled.
“I wouldn't be so sure,” he said and John had a short, fleeting thought of falling on the ground, screaming. That would feel so good, but was probably not socially acceptable.
“You should probably just stay here,” the old man continued and patted him on the knee again, “your dog will sniff you out when he comes back to his senses.”
The man left and John stared at the ground, not knowing which was worse; the fact that Paul would have to sniff him out, or that the lad (the dog?) was probably very much in his senses now. Which meant that he would never come back to John.
*~**~*
Paul had never had so much fun before!!! He had got a huge urge to chase a cat (channelling his silent rage towards John), he had wanted to pee everywhere, and he had run!!! He had been OUT!!!!
Now, though, it felt like something was missing. He was sitting in an alley, heaving, and staring at a wall. Something was missing. What was it? What? What was it???
He looked down on his feet. There was a leash. The leash had been a problem during his rampage. He had almost choked himself on it a few times, and had stepped on it as well. The leash. It said something to Paul.
!!!
!!!!!!
JOHN !!!!!
Where was John?? Where had he gone??? Hadn't he been there just a moment ago? John??? John??! JOHN?!?!?
Paul had a distant memory of suddenly becoming free. But the leash was still restricting him, and he was calm. He was so calm. He waved his tail and complimented himself on being such a calm, good boy.
He was such a good boy!!!!
He got almost caught on that thought when a voice pushed up from the deep parts of his head.
“Paul has been a very good boy, so far.”
!!!!!!!!
AAAAAAH!!! JOHN!!!!!
Where was he????
Paul jumped on his feet and started sniffing the air. Nothing. Not even a whisk. John. He had to find John now. What did the man think, wandering off like that all on his own?? Paul felt outraged! John could be in trouble- what if he got attacked without Paul protecting him?? What if he got lost??? What if he collapsed and Paul wasn't there??? Oh no. Paul needed to find John immediately-
Oh!!! A garbage truck! What a lovely smell!!!
Some unmentioned time later Paul was sitting contently on a pavement, an unmentioned distance away from where he had previously been.
It felt like something was missing.
What was missing?
He looked down on his leash.
!!!!! Oh NO!!!!!
“JOHN!” he barked and jumped on his feet. He would have to find the man! No more chasing after cars!
Oh! A cat!!!
NO . He stopped himself, freezing into mid-air of a leap. His momentum didn’t still, however, and his flight continued until he crashed uncontrollably against a garbage bin, soon rolling in a lovely, smelly pile of rotten food and beer bottles.
He got up to his feet and shook his head. He had no time for cats! He had to find John! But, wow, that bin sure smelled good. What was in there?? He pushed his head into it just in case, sniffing before finding a half-eaten sandwich.
Wow!! FOOD!!!
Some unmentioned time after he had dug his way through the garbage, swallowing every bit of anything he could find. Usually he might be picky, but all of this just tasted so good!!! It was marvellous!! Paul loved it all!
Wait.
JOHN.
Aaaaaah! Paul cursed himself and jumped on his feet. John had to be found.
He felt like he was repeating himself, somehow. Hadn’t he thought of this already?
He jumped into a run, dashing into the direction which he thought was the right one. People looked at him with disgusted expressions as he ran past them, smelling like rotten fish, his fur covered with garbage. He paid no mind. He had to find John!
It was sheer luck that he ran past a park and caught a wisp of a familiar smell.
”JOOOOOOHN!!” he yelled from the top of his lungs, and sheer excitement and happiness filled him to the very core! John! It was John!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!
*~**~*
To John’s defence one can say that he had not given up. He was falling into a deep pit of depression, yes, but he had not given up. He had talked to three more old people who somehow seemed to think that he needed help, and one of them had kept babbling on about love instructions even when John had insisted that it was his dog missing. Now he was alone, and he had not given up.
Maybe a bit, though.
Suddenly, there was a howl. John’s head snapped up and he looked around himself fervently, standing up. That howl- it had sounded just like the long “o” in his name, hadn’t it? Or was he just imagining things?
No. It was- Paul was running towards him, his fur looking slightly less clean, tail wagging and tongue hanging out from the side of his mouth. John felt like shouting with joy, his body trembling with relief.
“Oh, you got no idea how worried I’ve been-” he started, but Paul didn’t stop. The dog came straight towards him, staring at him intently, and John could not get away.
Paul crashed into him with sheer force and speed.
The first thing that John registered, after getting a blinding mouthful of dog kisses, lying on his back on the hard ground, was the smell. Wow. Had Paul been rolling in garbage??
“Ah- Paul- get- get off-” he hissed and pushed Paul away from him momentarily to lift himself up into a sitting position. Paul let out desperate sounding whines and jumped against John again, seemingly exhilarated that he had found back to John.
What a bastard! He had caused all of this by himself!
“Get OFF!” he yelled and took a firm hold of Paul, keeping him at an arm's length. The dog was whining and barking, his tail wagging from side to side with huge speed. John was worried. Was this normal? Were dogs usually this hysterical?
He knew that they were. But were humans that became dogs usually this hysterical?
“We're- we're gonna- calm down-” he tried, but Paul didn't react in any ways. His whole body was moving with his tail's movements and John had to admit that he looked pretty darn adorable.
“Let's just get back to the hotel,” he said in a careful voice. His words made Paul even more excited. Huh.
John had a feeling he could say about anything and Paul would just explode with sheer enthusiasm at some point.
He got up on his feet, with a dog running around his legs, and picked up the leash. Okay. Now he would hold onto it for dear life, no matter… where Paul lifted his leg.
The whole thing sounded so wrong, but so did this whole ordeal. Besides, John had been a cat for several days.
He hadn't just cared. He supposed the hotel staff would find his... presents sometime in the distant future.
*~**~*
“Oh, look! It's John and Paul!” Ringo said lazily, occupying an armchair with a drink in his hand and a book in his lap. George was sitting on the floor with his guitar, not even looking up.
“I wonder why it took so long...” he said in a wondering voice. John winced, already anticipating Ringo's next words.
“Well, y'know, to make us worry unnecessarily, to create havoc...”
“...and destruction...”
John sighed and let wheezing Paul out of the leash. The dog seemed to freeze for a moment, and then, if possible, became even more excited.
He ran straight to George and showered him with kisses.
“Aw,” Ringo smiled. “He's so cute. He only loves us. Unlike some others.”
John frowned and put his hands on his hips.
“He has also rolled in garbage, unlike some others.”
There was a small moment of silence, and then George pushed Paul away with force.
“Yuck! Paul! Stay away from me!” he screeched and scrambled up to get on his legs. Paul barked joyfully and jumped up against him, not done with his kisses. George ran away and Paul followed, barking and his tail wagging.
Ringo and John stared after them for a while before looking at each other.
“What happened, though? You were away for so long we almost lost our nerve,” the drummer asked with raised eyebrows. John sighed, walked over to Ringo and took the man's drink unceremoniously from his hand. He fell on the sofa and chucked down the alcohol without a second thought.
Ringo waited.
“Well,” John rasped, “there were things that happened.”
Ringo waited.
“Things like, er, him running away for a moment, but it's nothing serious.”
Ringo waited.
“I lost him for an hour, okay?” John said in a frustrated tone. Ringo huffed, shook his head with a disapproving expression, and lifted his book in front of his face.
Blocked, ashamed and distressed, John made his way into the bedroom, praying that this would end.
*~**~*
“Has there been any signs of Paul?” Brian asked, trying to push his head into the suite. John laughed and tried to push his head away.
“No. Not one bit. He called and said that the girl was delicious.”
Paul barked and bit down on John's leg. John's smile was frozen on his face as he stared at Brian with dead eyes.
“And is Pinocchio staying for much longer?” Brian asked with raised eyebrows, managing to get his shoulder between the door and the frame. John pushed him back, almost managing to close the door.
“Noooo,” he laughed, and then the door slammed closed, him falling against it. He could hear Brian let out a deep, tired sigh on the other side of it before the man walked away. Huh. He had never given up that easily. John had not even caught him peering from under the door yet.
Paul gnawed on his leg and John raised a hand, putting it on top of Paul's head. He was dead inside.
“That's a good boy,” he said automatically and for a moment Paul looked so confused that he forgot to continue eating John alive. Then, apparently deciding that the compliment had been just gear, he jumped up and started licking at John's face.
“Seriously,” George said as he stopped to look at them, a cup of tea in his hand, “This whole ordeal is so wrong. At least ye didn't go ‘round lickin’ at us.”
“Was that a compliment I heard about my cat phase?” John called back and George rolled his eyes, his whole expression the epitome of "you wish".
Paul was just about to climb fully into his lap to get better access to his face when there was a big, exploding, silent puff.
John blinked at the sudden naked man that was half in his lap, tongue darted out, eyes wide in sudden realisation of the situation.
Right. Paul was back.
They stared at each other until George coughed and Paul jumped away from John. His face started becoming alarmingly red, and he seemed unable to look at John in the eye now that he had once looked away. John raised one eyebrow, not impressed.
“I-I-I-” Paul stuttered, wringing his hands, wetting his lips several times, fidgeting, looking around himself, blushing, being very naked-
“I think you owe me a drink,” John said, relief in his tone. Good. John wouldn’t have to take Paul out again.
Paul glanced at him, pressed his lips tightly together, and then to John’s astonishment, nodded.
“Wow. You just agreed to that.”
“I’ve also spent a day licking your face, so…”
“Yeah. We’re even.”
They paused, and then started both chuckling. George sipped at his tea, watching them quietly.
“Paul’s still naked,” he then observed. Paul blushed. John narrowed his eyes.
“Oh, just you wait. I bet you’re next.”
George laughed wryly at that and shook his head.
“I’m pretty sure this is all jus’ that Lennon/McCartney magic, an’ it can stay that way for once. I’ll tell Ringo to stop hidin’ from over-excited Paul.”
He wandered off and Paul turned to look at John with the smuggest smile ever.
“Now, what was that bit about me being a good boy?” he grinned and John let out a cat-like hiss.
“Don’t you even start-” he leant forward, and Paul dissolved into laughing.
Hopefully the whole ordeal was now behind them. If Ringo turned into a turtle, John would just throw him out of the window.
Paul’s eyes sparkled as he sat next to John, against the door, and chuckled, the sound impossibly warming John up from inside.
“I think I was a very good boy.”
John decided to wait for the promised drink to comment further on that.
THE END