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totaldilfiam · 6 years

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If John Lennon survived (pt.2/?)

Okay, just like to say thanks to those of you who read the last chapter yesterday. The updating schedule should be every weekday (no weekends) unless I’ve notified you guys otherwise. So, please enjoy this new chapter. Btw, all chapters are in Paul’s perspective unless I say otherwise. If you ever want to find this story on its own rather than digging endlessly through posts, just search “IF JOHN LENNON HAD LIVED” on my page

“I’m telling you George these recording sessions are going great. Why don’t you come join us. We’ll record some of your songs too, if you like.” I had been talking, well more like begging George to join us in the recording studio.

“Well, Paul, how do I put this? You’re my friend. A very close one at that, but business wise, you’re rather pushy,” I don’t know why, but these words made my stomach crash into my heart.

“Oh, I guess I was pretty bad. But that was then, y’know?” I waited, longing for the long, awkward silence to end.

“Ringo’ll be there too, right?”

“Yep!” Yes, I think I have him now.

“I’ll see you there next week. I’ll get more details from Ringo, but so much as two corrections towards my guitar playing, then I’ll...” What was he going to do?

“I’ll storm out faster than you can say hey Jude,” and just like that I heard a click and the dead buzz of the phone. My head perked up when I heard John come in. He had gone to visit Yoko’s lawyer over some copyright bull crap.

“Paulie, darling, I’ve got some great news! Because of there being no evidence that Yoko helped write my songs, we get seventy percent of the proceeds from them, and we have total control over what could be done with them!” God, he sounded happy. I loved it when he was happy.

“That’s great darling. George will be joining us next week for our recording.”

“Mmm, that’ll be good. I was thinking we could both cover ‘Watching the Wheels’ because, well, uh, we’re like that. We are living in that song,” I almost teared up from this. Since John had divorced Yoko in 1981, exactly a year after the- well, you know, his “injury”, they’d been fighting over the rights to songs, and John finally won.

“We should celebrate,” the words whisped out of my mouth as if I were scared. I knew what John’s idea of fun was. I had the same sense of fun too.

“Yeah Macca, what do you think we should do?”

“Well John, you kn-”

“I was thinking we could go out to eat, how bout you Paul?” was this a joke. Well, it was his battle, so it’d be nice to just go with it.

“Oh, uh, yeah, that sounds perfect, lu-,” John suddenly got closer to me and lightly placed his soft lips on mine. The kiss got more and more passionate until it got aggressive. He pushed me up against the edge of the table before suddenly stopping.

“You know that whole going out to eat thing was a joke, right?” I just nodded before John leaned in and whispered lightly in my ear, “Now, that table doesn’t look to comfortable against your leg. How about we take this to the bedroom...” He attached his lips to mine once more and without letting we stumbled into our bedroom like a pair of gay drunken sailors.

Soon the kiss turned into a competition for dominance, which John stubbornly won as always. As he kissed me deeply he dug his hands through my hair, and I dug mine into his back. He soon reached his hands down to my hips, grabbing and pulling as we went along. With much ease I soon ended up on my back with him straddling over me- that was until our doorbell rang, about four times with only five seconds in between to be precise.

“Crap, it’s Sean,” John whispered in my ear as he froze over me in his bent frame. We had totally forgotten that Sean - John’s son with Yoko - would be staying with us during his trip here in London.

We both ran down the steps as fast we could before Sean would press that damned bell again. W both fumbled with the doorknob trying to decide who would open it. I decided to be the bigger man and just let John do it. It was his son, after all. He opened the door and caught Sean in the middle of his seventh time pressing the doorbell. I never thought a twenty-four year old man would manage to press a button that much.

“Hi there, Sean,” I yelped rather oddly. He awkwardly walked in to our house, suitcase still in hand. After I took his bag he gave his father a big hug and whispered some thing in his ear. John just looked at him gently and smiled. God, I wish I knew what he said.

“Sorry,” Sean’s voice was a little high pitched with that same raspiness his father spoke with, “the doorbell was just kinda cool y’know... With the lights and everything.” He was kind of cute, in the sense of a curious child. I though of laughing at the remark, but I didn’t. Our doorbell was cool. It lit up green all the time, but when you pressed it it pulsed blue for about four seconds. Oh, that’s why he pressed it every five seconds.

“Here, let me take your coat Sean. Sit,” John and Sean must be very close. Didn’t seem that way. He hardly talked about him unless it was after one of their famous thirty minute calls.

“Uhh,” I felt compelled to mention something, anything, “Would you like a cupa?”

“A cup of what?” he just stared at me blankly.

“Oh,” I suddenly realized that they probably don’t say things like cuppa in America, “I meant a cup of tea.” He just laughed and we joined in.

The rest of the night was warm and filled with old stories and laughter. The dinner was good. John cooked bread and I just made a big salad. I loved this. I wished I could raise a family with John. Maybe we’d adopt... Oh, but we were old, and I already had six kids, including John’s to, to, well, I guess they’re adults now. All we have to do is comfort and give them good advice.

“Hey, Macca, you alright? You’ve been in this trance all night,” It was only then I’d realized that I was lying in bed next to John.

“Is it Sean? I know, he’s an odd kid, but that’s just him. He’s creative, not odd. Paul, is it me?”

“No John, not in a thousand years. Sean’s fine, I think he’s perfect. I was thinking...”

“What? What, is it? Tell me Paul,” God, he was like a puppy when curiosity got the best of him.

“John, what do you think about adopting a kid? I’d love to raise one with you.”

#if john lennon had lived #paul mccartney #John Lennon #John Paul George and Ringo #mclennon

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