Wasn’t this interview way before Jesus came out on the show? Tom obviously knew his character was gay in the comics but there was no confirmation as if it was gonna be that way on the show as well, the point here he didn’t only hint that Jesus was gay on the show, but Jesus was enjoying being next to Daryl as well.
i read your most recent fanfiction and it was so cute, i absolutely loved it! i think your writing is great. prompt: Saturday, July 6th, 1957. do with it what you will. (fluff would be nice. lots of fluff. adorable af) thank you! :)
“Ten years? TEN years already?!” George gawked at his older friend. “Ten years, mate.” John chuckled. “I don’t know what t'do for ‘im.” John rubbed his hands together anxiously as he finished his morning tea. “Wouldn’t ‘ave come by this mornin’ if I knew it was yer bloody anniversary.” George laughed uncomfortably, he never cared to get into their personal business much. “S'alright, reckon he’s still asleep anyhow.” John shrugged. “Ten years is a big deal, man. Ye gotta figure somethin’ out, y'know, something romantic, er whatever.” George told him as he stood up, stretching his arms up above his head. “Mm, I know.” John nodded, looking back down to his empty mug. “Well, I’m off t'London today. See ye, good luck.” George spoke with a bit of a chuckle, as if he knew John had absolutely no ideas.
Until he did.
Paul woke up with a long yawn, stretching out his entire body. He felt his leg push up against a large lump at the end of the bed. Paul sat up slowly and put his hand on the lump. “Mornin’ Martha.” He greeted her. Paul looked out the window in his room, standing up and stretching again, to admire the lovely summer day. It wasn’t too often that someone could actually enjoy a nice sunny day in Liverpool, but Paul was riddled with excitement to spend his day outside soaking it all in. Just as Paul got himself dressed, the telephone rang.
“`Ello?” He picked up the receiver. “Good mornin’, baby.” A familiar voice greeted him on the other end. “Oh, hello there.” Paul responded with a smile. “I’m comin’ over. We have an anniversary to celebrate, y'know.” John told him as-a-matter-of-factly. “See you soon, then.” The smile didn’t leave Paul’s face as he hung up the phone. He got himself dressed in his new summer of `67 wardrobe that he loved so much, and waited for his boyfriend to arrive. It didn’t take John long to get there, either. Paul nearly ran to the door to greet John when he heard it open. Of course, John didn’t need to knock anymore.
Martha had gotten to John first though, and when Paul finally got to him he saw the man crouched down and petting his dog. John’s eyes shot up with a smile, and he stood up. Paul was frozen in that spot, he couldn’t move. He was in awe. Paul’s heart had never beat so loud and so fast in his life. He felt like his whole world had crumbled around him and John in that moment, and they were the only thing on the planet. Paul knew his hands were a bit shaky, too. He could feel tears pricking at his eyes, but he fought them back.
John stood in front of him with his slicked back quiff, sticking up as high as it used to in the fifties. He wore a red checkered shirt that Paul recognized all too well. This was the lad he met on July 6th, 1957, standing right in front of him with a smug look on his face. “The names John.” He stuck out his hand to shake Paul’s. Paul finally unfroze and shook the man’s hand. “What’s all this?” Paul asked, his voice shaky and nervous.
John didn’t let go of Paul’s hand, instead he pulled him into his arms in a warm embrace. “Happy 10 years, m'love.” He whispered in his ear. Paul could hear the smile on John’s face based on the way he spoke. Paul felt a loving, gentle hand move up his back slowly. “Happy 10 years, baby.” Paul said quietly, too. John went to pull away from the embrace, but Paul just pulled him back in closer. John heard Paul sniffle a bit as he rested his head on the older man’s shoulder. “Macca?” John questioned him quietly.
“Ten years, ten years ago we met. God, could you imagine if I hadn’t come to see the band? Where would we be now?” Paul nuzzled his face into John’s neck, allowing John to feel his lips move slightly as he spoke. “We would’ve found each other, baby. You’re the one I’m s'pose t'be with. If it wasn’t on July 6th, it would’ve come eventually.” John reassured him. Paul didn’t need to respond to that, nor argue it, because he knew John was right. They were meant to be together.
“We just gonna stand here all day, then?” John asked in a hushed chuckle, his arms gently draped around Paul. Paul pulled away slightly, arms still around John, and looked at him. “You look just like you did on that day.” He smiled softly, giving his boyfriend the once over glance. “Bit older, though.” John winked. “You even put yer contacts in?” Paul looked into John’s eyes as he asked him. “No, I couldn’t be bothered. I can’t see shite right now.” John admitted, causing Paul to laugh that laugh that John was head over heels for. “The things I do to make you happy, Macca!” John pretended to be annoyed and rolled his almost-useless eyes.
“Are you going to kiss me, then?” Paul said, looking into his boyfriends eyes with a glisten of love in his own. “Not yet, we’ve got to go.” John instructed with his hand and a snap of the fingers for Martha to go lay down, which she did happily. John opened the door and gestured for Paul to lead the way. “Where are we goin’?” He asked, heading out the door and locking it behind the two Beatles. “You’ll see, baby.” John opened the car door for Paul, and got in on the drivers side. Paul was giddy with excitement. Sooner than Paul would’ve expected, they pulled up to a familiar church. St. Peter’s, was it?
“What are we doin’ here?” Paul asked as they climbed out of the car. “You’ll see.” John giggled and lead the way. They passed some familiar sights, and headed into the empty church. The room was all empty, almost completely, except for a piano. Paul smiled at the sight. Just as John would expect, Paul sat down at the piano and began tinkering away at the aging, browning keys. John leaned on top of the piano and watched Paul’s magically talented fingers glide effortlessly across the keys. “This is why you brought me here? To serenade you?” Paul looked up at John, without seizing his playing. “No.” John walked around the piano. “Shove off,” He motioned for him to make room. Paul shuffled over on the piano bench for him to sit next to him.
John began playing lightly with one hand, Paul playing with his opposite. “Perfect for me, you are.” John muttered. Paul didn’t respond, he knew what John meant. They could play a piano together and make it work, without any further explanation. They just worked. Together. “So the reason I brought you…” John stopped playing and looked up at Paul. Paul only raised a brow as he too stopped playing. “Here, was the first place we met. Right here,” John points down to the bench the two were sitting on. “Was where we kissed for the first time.” John says, before placing a delicate kiss on the other man’s lips. “Just like that,” Paul smiled as the memory washed over his brain. “And I hope this will be the first and last place you agree to this..” John stood up. “W-what?” Paul stood up too, confused. John opened the top of the piano and pulled out a little box, and got down on one knee.
And that was the first and last place Paul ever agreed to that question.