Chapter Text
Paul waits for everyone to finish dinner before he brings it up, but it’s far too tempting. He'd been googling it all day.
“So.” He begins refilling his glass. “I don’t think we actually bonded.”
“We have plenty time to bond,” John says through a chew of food. “We live in the same house. And sometimes we play music.”
“Y’know that’s not what I mean,” Paul chuckles. “I was thinkin’ we do something as a family, y’know? Spice it up a bit! Instead of just, y’know… stayin’ in and all-”
John groans. Ringo lets out a small laugh.
“Alright, mum. ” George reaches for his own glass. “Out with it already.”
“I want to camp.”
John makes an oddly satisfying choked noise.
“In the woods."
He coughs. “It’s… cold outside.”
Paul smiles. “All the more to bundle up.” Being in charge was the shit. “An’ we don’t have to go too far, or too long. Jus’ far and long enough as we need to bond.”
John looks as if he may faint. He gives George a pleading look.
“Why not.”
Ringo turns to look at him. Then at John, eyes -slightly- wider. George glances back at Ringo just a mo, c’mon live a little, and it’s two on two.
“When d’you wanna go?”
“Asap.”
“Do we even have a tent?” asks Ringo.
“I think Eric’s got a tent-”
“We’re not going camping!” John cuts in. “An’ if you think that any of you’s gonna last ten fucking minutes in the wild-”
“Oh yes,” says Paul, unmoved. “You wanna bet?”
Ringo inhales so heavily half his dinner goes up his nose. Paul's pulse goes miles a minute when he sees the flash of ouch in John's face, but if he softens now he'll never get his way. He manages a grin on the first go. "I didn't think so."
He feels terrible immediately. But there's some biting rush that just comes with seeing Lennon Almighty reduced into stutters. John looks helplessly at George and Ringo.
"Well?"
"I like it." George shrugs. "We could use a breather."
Ringo. "What he said."
"You bleedin' sons of-"
"It's just camping, John," says George.
"We don't have a tent."
"I can call Eric to lend his."
"Yeah yeah, real nice Geo. But wHY," John turns to Paul, agonised and slow, "DO YOU EVEN WANT TO DO THIS."
"We're always doin' what you want to do," says Ringo. John glares at him.
"I've always wanted to go." Paul pouts perfectly, not too pathetic of a plea and not too cold for the likes of ice. "I thought... it'd be fun."
It takes all of his will to not burst into giggles. But then John caves in.
"Fine." Hands go up alongside his groan. "Goddamnit Macca, you-"
Paul swoops across the table and plants one right on his lips. Ringo facepalms in the corner of his eye.