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"Put your shoes on, Johnny, then we can go!", shouted a very excited Paul McCartney. John groaned. He had agreed to going to Ikea with his boyfriend, but it was way too early. Half past seven and Paul had awoken him at seven. He had sent John to the bathroom, told him to shower and get ready, but John had fallen asleep on he toilet.
"Paul, let a man take a shit, would you?", he asked and tried to fix his hair as quickly as possible. He splashed some water on his face and changed into a jeans and a black shirt, that said Daddy's little kitten in pink letters. It was a little too small and if he rose his arm, you'd be able to see his tummy. He didn't look good, hell, he didn't even look decent. And John Lennon never left the house when he wasn't at least looking decent.
"What the fuck are you wearing? You can't wear that shirt in public!", Paul said, but he giggled. "The other's are all dirty. If you, my dear wife, would do the laundry-" "No John, I won't do your laundry. You need to learn it yourself! We're moving in together, you don't have Mimi to do it for you anymore", Paul said and ruffled John's hair.
"Your hair is greasy. You didn't shower, did you?", Paul asked, a smile lingering on his lips. John just glared at him and opened a new package of Airwaves in order to get rid of his rather unpleasent morning breath. "You could have at least brushed your teeth, John!", Paul muttered, but John only grumbled something and lit a cig.
They left their flat and walked towards the parkinglot of the nearest supermarket, where John's car stood. It was a dark green Opel, and it was old. Not the cute, vintage kind of old, but the be-happy-you're-still-alive kind of old.
John opened the door for Paul and got in as well, the cig still dangeling from his lips. If someone would have seen them, they would probably have thought John had kidnapped Paul. John had greasy, messy hair and was wearing a too small shirt, black jeans with tomato sauce patches on it and sandals with socks. The cig in his mouth and the barely working car only underlined it.
Paul was wearing a light pink shirt with a black cardian and tight, grey jeans. His hair was styled perfectly and he had even put on some mascara. The contrast between the two men was so big, it was almost funny.
John started the car and blew some smoke out of the open window. He placed the cancerstick between his lips again and took Paul's hand in his, while the other one was driving the car through the streets of Liverpool.
"So, what do we have to buy?", John asked and took another drag. Paul opened his mouth and started talking so quickly, it was hard for John to keep up. "We need a double bed, a wardrobe and something cute for our room. Then of course everything we put in the kitchen, a new table, a carpet and a fridge. I was thinking we could use a dark counter and light cupboards. Then of course we need stuff for the livingroom, another carpet, maybe a four-drawer dresser and a clock. We still need to talk about the couch, I think light red would go well with the flo-" "Paulie dear, don't forget to breathe," John said with an amused grin spread across his face. "We can't buy the whole shop, Macca. And we don't have that much money, either. I can ask Mimi if she has some furniture we can have."
Paul didn't look happy. "John, your aunt's home is really not the style I want ours to be, and my Dad will give us some money. Okay, I was thinking that we could make the guestroom a room for a child. In case we want to adopt", he continued and John almost bumped against a tree. "Paul what the fuck?! You are twenty and I am twentytwo! We can't adopt! I mean i didn't even brush my teeth this morning, how am I supposed to raise a child?", he almost yelled. He had been ready for walking through a packed shop all day, Paul asking him whether he liked the red or the orange candles better, but he had not been ready for Paul wanting kids!
"Don't get your knickers in a twist, that was a joke!", his boyfriend said and John opened his mouth, closed it again and glared at Paul. His boyfriend was giggeling like mad and after some minutes, John had to smile as well. God, he loved Paul. "You look beautiful today, dear", John said and Paul blushed. "You look so gay, but so fuckable. With your stupid mascara and your stupid nailpolish...", John muttered and Paul smiled. "Do you like it?", he asked and waved his hands around in order to show John his purple nails. John grumbled something and lit another fag.
~*~
It was 10 am when the two of them arrived at the parkinglot, and Paul bounced excitedly in his seat. "John, will you help me with the decoration? Can I have pink candles, please?", he asked and pecked John on the lips. The older man smiled and nodded. "Sure, darling. You can even have a pink toilet, if you want to", he said and put his arm around Paul's waist.
First they wanted to look at the beds, because, like John said with a cheeky grin, it was going to be the place they would spent the most time in. Paul looked at a huge one, which looked so comfortable John wanted to take a nap. Paul lay down on it to try it out and John let himself fall next to Paul. His boyfriend's happy smile made John's stomach flip and he couldn't help pecking his plump lips.
A man, that was looking at a chair next to them, coughed. It sounded a lot like the word queer, and John took Paul's hand protectively in his. "Do you have something against homosexuals, sir?", he asked, his voice innocent. The man looked at him with disgust, but said, he didn't. John smiled at him and laughed kindly. "Great, cause we were just about to make out", he chuckled. And then he kissed Paul dirtily, sucking on his tongue and biting his bottom lip. When the two of them opened their eyes, the saw the man quickly walking away, mumbeling something about "stupid gay teenagers".
Paul laughed and stroked John's cheek. He liked it, when John did something protective; it reminded him that he was always safe and no one would hurt him as long as John was with him. "This bed then, is it?", John chuckled and stood up. He grabbed a piece of paper and one of the short pencils that were everywhere in the shop and started writing the name and the number of the bed down.
~*~
Four hours later they were sitting in the little Ikea-café, having a hot cup of tea and talking about which colour they wanted to paint the wall. "I like pink, John. Can we paint it pink?", Paul asked, but John shook his head. "Paul pink really isn't my colour. I mean I know you love it and all, but believe me, I wouldn't be able to fuck you in a Barbie-house", he answered and Paul giggled. "We'll do it in the kitchen then", he said and John laughed as well.
It was exhausting to shop everything they needed, but it was also fun. Soon they'd be living together like a real, married couple, and John loved the idea of not having to be considerate of someone. They would be able to kiss, make out and even make love, wherever and whenever they wanted to. It would be heaven.
"Okay, I think we have everything. But we still need the decoration!", Paul said and drank the rest of his tea. The two of them got up and walked to the hall in which all kinds of decoration was stored. Paul looked at everything, grabbed plants, table lamps, candles and flowerpots; and John was just pushing their cart. When Paul was looking at different napkins, John and groaned and muttered: "I need a smoke".
A young man next to him had heard him an he laughed. "He can't choose as well?", he asked. He seemed to be in the same situatoion as John. John nodded and grinned. "I mean I do want to move in with him, but honestly I don't care about the fucking napkins", he said and in this moment a skinny young man with high cheekbones joined them. "Ringo, I found this lovely flowerpot! Isn't it beauitful? Oh hey!", he greeted John and smiled. Ringo looked at John with the this-is-what-I-meant-look and John chuckled again.
"Lovely flowerpot, really. Paul are you done?", he called and Paul came back, looking very uncertain. "I think the blue ones are nice, but i also like the- George?!", he interrupted himself and looked at the skinny man. "Paul, that you?", the other one asked. And then they were off, talking about flowerpots and napkins.
"They know each other?", John asked and the man called Ringo shrugged. "Geo told me he had a mate in school called Paul, but I don't know if it's your Paul", he answered and let his hand run through his hair. John felt something warm in his stomach when Ringo said your Paul. He looked over to his excited boyfriend who was gesticulating wildely and his heart ached with love. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad having kids with this man, after all.