Paul heard John asking him where he was so Paul picked the phone back up quickly, pressing it into his ear.

"What did you mean?" He asked

He heard shuffling on the other end of the phone " just that, I can't really deny the accu-"

"So you're queer?" Paul asked with sudden fury "you put me through hell for me being queer and you're queer!"

"Listen, Paul-"

"No I'm determined to make you feel bad for this!"

"I do what I have to do, I don't have to justify this to you, anyway I never said I was" he could hear John growing more infuriated. But Paul was doing just the same.

"You can't twist this back round, Lennon. Go ahead and explain to me exactly what you meant by that comment if not that!" Paul urged John to go on.

"I suggest you keep out me way in school or-"

"What? You'll have another slip of the tongue and tell me all about your queer ways-" the line went dead, Paul pulled the phone out to his face and stared at it for a few seconds before hanging it back up. Paul felt waves of guilt in his stomach, angering John was not his best idea. Not only did it put an even bigger target on his back but by default, George too. He dreaded the next school day and wondered if he could avoid explaining all of this to George.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
George was biting at his nails as he watched Paul pace back and forth.

"You're extra fidgety today" he remarked curiously from the edge of Paul's bed.

"M'not" Paul snapped the response out so fast that it nearly overlapped with the last word of George's comment.

"And you want me to believe that?"

Paul shrugged and sat down on the bed next to him. "You know...just worried bout Stu s'all"

George smiled faintly and leaned his head on Paul's shoulder. "Me too". They stayed like that for a while before the clock demanded they leave for school.

Mike, Paul's brother, was tagging along behind them as they climbed the steps of the bus. Paul flashed the driver a smile as they plopped themselves down on any open seat. Paul leaned his temple against the rattling window and took a small breath.

"you have enough brain damage as it is , McCartney" George pulled Paul's head off the window.

"Ha" Paul turned back with a sarcastic teasing smile.
~~~~~~~~~~

John felt the heat of Stu's driveway through his jeans. He'd give him five more minutes before he'd storm off to school without him. Not that he was eager to get there but Stu wasn't giving him much to do here.

Near the end of the fourth minute, Stu strolled down the walkway with a cig perched in his grin. And the slam of the door shocked John into a jump. "You twitchy this morning?" Stu kicked Johns foot.

John fumbled with his hands and stood, glaring into Stu's eyes. "You're about to be limpy this morning" John kicked him in the shin and began the walk to school.

"Ow!" Stu hopped after him with minor complaints.

They got to school late, so John insisted they roam the halls until next period. John lit himself a cig as his shoes squeaked on the floor. He pushed it past his lips as Stu put his out. They were walking along the lockers when Stu stopped.

"What?" John asked but continued past him.

"Ain't this the queers locker?" Stu happily tilted his head with a cocked smirk. John forced a turn from his legs and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Do I look like I'd know that?"

"147, it's 147 I'm sure" Stu pointed his finger at the number.

"So what's it to ya?"

Stu seemed to ignore the question and pounded his fist into the locker. He continued this motion for a few minutes before it flung open. John just watched with an expression indicating he would not be interested in participating.

"Oi, got a permanent marker or something?" Stu turned his head.

John rolled his eyes and leaned over, grabbing one that laid inside the locker. He waved it in his face before Stu grabbed it and slammed the locker shut. He uncapped the marker and began writing over the bent metal.

The sloppy writing made out the words:

'Dirty Queers'

When John squinted over the word, queers, he felt sudden anger. Remembering the last two conversations he'd had with Paul. In a heated instant, he whipped the marker from Stu's grip. Nearly smudging the still wet writing, he sprawled out his own message.

'Damn all queers to hell'

He leaned the marker back for Stu to grab. He was cackling behind him, John didn't turn but was visualizing all the heat that'd be in Stu's cheeks and that vein in his forehead.

"S'good one" he heard just before he finally turned. John nodded

"Sure. Let's go smoke in the gym" John thrust himself past Stu.

Stu admired the locker for a second and then took off behind John.
~~~~~~~~~~~~

"all I'm saying is-" George cut off his statement when he realized Paul had stopped walking. He looked in the direction Paul was looking and his mouth fell open. From their current view, they saw their looked completely bashed in. They hurried over to it. That's when George read the writing over

Pauls stomach dropped, he looked over at George who was still processing it. Paul saw the noticeable difference in the handwriting between the two messages, he also recognized Johns writing from the phone number that was still on top of his journal paper. He assumed the other message was graced from Stu. George kicked at the bottom of the lockers with a frustrated groan. The reaction was an odd one coming from George.

"You ok?" Paul asked. George looked up with pain in his eyes

"In all honesty? No" George looked incredibly defeated as he crossed his arms and leaned back onto the lockers.

"I'm sure our rumor is just a passing fad"

"A passing fad that nearly gave me a concussion and defaced our locker?"

"Yes?" Paul shrugged and George gave a small smile. Though he turned back to the locker and it faded back to a frown. Paul grabbed George's lunch, closed the locker. He than turned George by his shoulders and pushed him to the lunchroom.
~~~~~~~~~~~
George tapped his pencil against his books, he sat under the locker to avoid looking at it again. Paul was taking too long and he was growing mighty impatient. He felt the crowd of students casting dirty looks that were meant to ignite some sort of guilt in George but he just continued to tap away with his pencil.

He spotted Ringo walking towards him and trying to keep his eyes off the locker. It occurred to George that until this moment, he had yet to see Ringo in school. His only interactions with him had been at concession. Ringo sank down next to him, laying his books over his lap.

"Suppose you've seen the locker, then?" George asked.

"What locker?" Ringo happily chirped. George turned to look at the lad, he was smiling.

"You don't have to pretend you don't see it, mate. I'm fine"

Ringo somberly let his grin fall to a more calm expression "I can you treat ya to chips if you'd like?"

"I don't like taking pity, Ritchie...but yes I would like chips. Can Paul come too?" George asked with a smile

"Sure. He'll be by soon then?"

"Should be round in about a minute or so" George shrugged and looked among the crowd.

"Oi!" George slapped Pauls hand away for the millionth time, Ringo chuckled behind them with a cig hanging from his mouth.

"I'm hungry George!" Paul whined but George just continued to tease him. "I'll play you for half?" Paul poked at his sleeve.

"You got paper?" George asked, mouthful of chips.

Paul looked around and spotted a sheet of ripped paper. He took it and gazed at the pencil in Ringo's shirt pocket. "Mind if I?" He reached his hand out.

"No sure, go ahead" Ringo gave him the pencil, not really sure what they were going to do.

Paul drew a small square table and put an X in one section.

"I'm always X!" George ripped the pencil away and drew in his own O.

This was too good, two teenagers fighting over chips with a game of tic-tac-toe but Ringo had to put an end to it. He slid in closer to where the lads were curled up and took the paper.

"Hey! I was gonna win!" George huffed, Ringo stood and walked over to a small drawer in the stand and pulled out a pack of cards. He set it down on the table.

"I'm gonna teach you guys to play cards " Ringo chuckled, George glanced down at his hands once he began to shuffle. The rings were such a weird quirk.

Ringo had them playing for a while before Paul came out on top and got his half of the chips, in all honesty Ringo wasn't sure why Paul hadn't just asked for his own chip tray but he was glad he didn't. He watched Paul and George breaking out into hysterical chuckles, George would lean into Paul with such comfort. The thought slipped into his mind so fast that the words escaped his mouth before he could stop them.

"Are the rumors true?"

They stopped laughing, George sat back up

Paul mumbled an answer as he flicked a playing card out of his hand "No, we're just friends...we're not queer neither" he added that as an afterthought almost.

"Good to know" Ringo nodded and stomped out his cig.

"Think we'll be off then?" Paul asked George who nodded and they began to collect themselves, Ringo felt really guilty for having asked that. Paul fled the stand quickly but George lingered a little longer, even stopping in front of Ringo.

"I'll see you sometime soon" he kicked the leg Ringo had been subconsciously bouncing up and down in anxiety.

"Yeah, ya will" Ringo smiled up at him and even gave him a small wink.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
John was curled over the table inside the diner, cracking his fists as Stu looked over a menu. "Been here over a million times, Stu"

"And?"

"Put the menu away and order something!" John was much more irritable today than he usually was.

"Alright, don't get your panties in a twist" Stu rolled his eyes and went up to the counter. John leaned his cocked head over and watched him walk away. He scrolled his narrowed eyes over Stu's body before throwing himself back into a normal position when Stu turned back around and sat down.

'He needed a smoke and where's a good bird when you need one?'

"Im out" John shot up from his seat in time with Stu stuffing his face with food so wouldn't press any questions into him. The air was brisker than it has been upon entering but he just shoved on, lighting a cig on his way.

'Damn all queers to hell'

John rolled his shoulders back and shook his face around as if that would cure any urge he'd had and would continue to have in the near future.

Of course he'd be in the perfect place to see Paul seeing George off and turning back to finish his walk to his own home. Of course John just had to go over there, he did love provoking people. He came up behind the lad and threw his hand over Pauls shoulders.

"Oh!" Paul shrieked.

"Hello to you too princess" John smirked. Pauls eyes flickered but anger is what took over them

"Fuck you" Paul spat and continued forward.

"You know I'd ought to be saying that to you!" John pointed the cig into Pauls face, smoke following it slowly.

"I didn't reach into your mouth and pull those words out your gob, did I?" Paul stopped walking and flung himself head first into his fury.

"Shit, Paul" John pressed his lips down onto his cigarette and ran his hands threw his hair,

"What's the matter with ya?" Paul asked that with mild concern but mostly annoyance.

"I'm damned to hell for a start" John spat his cig to the ground, Paul stomped it out for him.

"What am I suppose to do with this information?" Paul whispered, desperately wishing John would convey something other than vagueness.

" spread even an inkling of what ya think you know, you're dead, princess!" John jetted his finger into Pauls face. Paul looked down at his finger. Paul, with sudden confidence, unrolled the pack of cigarettes from Johns sleeve and lit one for himself.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Johnny as long as you and Stu drag your selves out from mine and George's hair" he shrugged and let out a few smoke rings. John shook his head

"Love the confidence while you can, it ain't gonna last long" John turned away, slapping his feet against the pavement and Paul whistled through one side of his mouth as he took the opposite direction.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Paul and George were happily lingering in the record shop a couple of weeks later, George was more than ecstatic that John and Stu hadn't even so much as looked at them. Paul was enjoying George's happiness and decided to treat his friend to records. George was moving fast to and from the crates while Paul simply strolled around with his cig lying on the corner of his lips.

John and Stu entered the same shop not ten minutes after them, neither group would give in and leave so they occasionally shuffled awkwardly past each other. Paul was sitting in front of a crate that he'd taken an interest to when John sat down next to him and pulled out the next crate over. Paul watched him out of the corner of his eye but somehow missed John reaching over and taking Pauls cig.

"Oi!" Paul turned to him, his legs were spread on each side of the crate and was waving the stolen cig around with his weird closed mouth grin.

"I've been a bad influence, haven't I?" John popped it onto his lips "don't want me ways spreading around town, do I?" He dug into his own crate and didn't look back up at Paul.

"Think it's too late" Paul reached over Johns lap to collect the cig from the left corner of his mouth.

"My my my, lovely surprise that is then" John let him take it back, Paul sank back to his previous position. They were silent again, with the occasional mumble from John. He heard shuffling so Paul turned back to John. He was furiously digging through the crate, seemingly he'd reached the end but hadn't found what he was looking for. John rushed himself up and around the corner, disappearing for five minutes or so.

He came back clutching an album, looking pleased with his find. He sat down again and put his crate back. He kept the album to himself for a few minutes. Paul watched this one man show, wondering if he should provoke John or let him do whatever it was he wanted to do. He puffed out smoke.

Paul leant his forearm on the side of his crate, eyes searching for anything good so he could stop haunching over the damned thing. He felt a record fall into his lap from his side, he turned and there was John. He was waving his hand around and Paul rolled his eyes and handed over the cig, Turning the album over in his lap. He was met with the recognizable face of Elvis Presley.

"S'nice one, some of me favorites are on this one" Paul tried to make conversation to figure out why John had been so proud to find it and give it to him.

"Member when you said I looked like Buddy Holly?" John mumbled, Paul looked up and caught what could be considered a nervous eye.

"Mm I recall it, yes" he subconsciously put his elbow on his knee and spread his fingers for John to push the cig back into, and that he did. Paul took a drag and waited for the explanation but nothing came. He twisted his eyes back to John who was grinning like mad.

"Gimme the cig than?" John reached for it, Paul hung it out for him and continued his staring contest with Elvis. As he was doing this, John vacated his spot and seemed to make his permanent exit.

George found him soon after, he was clutching his two finds, excited to show them to Paul. Only Paul was bearing his eyes into an Elvis album.

"Coming Paul?" He kicked his knee and Paul shot up.

"Yes."

"Don't forget, you're treating me" George bopped into Paul, who wrapped his arm around George "might as well buy us some dinner than, huh?" Paul offered.

"You spoil me, love" George cooed as they reached the counter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Paul listened to the album over and over like it might say something new each time but nothing different ever came to be. He held the cover over his face as he laid in bed and replayed Johns comment but each time he dismissed it with a knowing purse of his lips.

I don't see it at all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
John and Stu often explore the town for any late night parties to crash. They'd usually find one that was always dripping with alcohol. John would tip beers into his mouth and keep up half hearted conversations with birds in hopes that he might bed one but there was a special corner in his eye reserved for Stu. Course Stu would be off the second they'd go in, exploring the fine selection of birds just as John but he had no special corner in his eye reserved for John.

I'm damned to hell