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"You can come inside?" John asks grinning, his long hair falling into his face as he leans closer to me, "You're serious?"
John, my John, who I didn't see for 50 years since he was shot. John, my John, who waited for me all those years in the afterlife. John, my John, who watched my every step all the time for 50 years.
And now that I'm dead as well I can see him again. Afterlife is beautiful. He's there again, he, who I missed all this time desperately, crying way too often because his death came too soon, without a reason even, dreaming about him being with me. It is painfully wonderful to see him again, it hurts that we didn't have enough time when we were still alive. But now we have it, now I am with him again, with the love of my life.
"This album you made at 83 was cute but like 'You can come inside'? As lyrics of a song named 'Come inside'??? Really? You were thinking what I'm thinking right now, didn't you?" John asks me teasingly, voice calm.
He's referring to our first time, just as I did in that song. Obviously he is. We were young back then. Barely 18 when we started writing more songs together. He was so wonderful, beautiful, just perfect. I fell in love with him quickly.
It was evening back then and we had just played a concert at a wedding with the Querryman. John and I went to his place afterwards because his aunt was on a weekend trip with friends of hers, away from home.
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"This concert was good, wasn't it? I'm so glad it was good, I mean it was a wedding after all" John says. He is grinning like a little kid and it just looks adorable. How am I supposed to not get weak for this man when he's looking at me like that?
He closes the door, let's himself fall on his bed and throws his shoes at me. "Why are you looking at me like this, Paul?" he asks.
"Like what?", I ask teasingly, smiling softly.
"Like a lovesick dumbass" John declares loud. Oh god this boy. But I can't deny it, I've seen it in windows, mirrors, on photographies. I really look like a lovesick dumbass sometimes.
"What am I supposed to do when you just look so adorable?" John blushes a bit about this, which makes him even cuter.
He stands up, takes my jacket off my shoulders and throws it on a chair. His hands find my cheeks, cupping them. His look is strange, something I had not seen often. He leans in close, pressing his lips to mine just as he did a hundred times before.
I sigh into this soft kiss. He seems to notice my smile pulls away and leans his forehead on mine. I'm slightly taller than he is, especially with shoes on.
He looks up and tells me "You look so good right now, oh lord, would you even know how badly I wanna have you right now, darling."
So he kisses me again, his lips soft on mine. Heat rushes through my body, when he starts touching me. My shoulders, my back, my chest. How is he always so good with his hands pulling at my shirt?
Eventually he stops, asks me if I'm alright and starts opening my dress shirt. His hand on my bare skin feels like a living dream, I am left moaning with his hands on my waist.
We kiss again, deeper this time, his tongue gently touching my lips, as if he was asking me to let him in.
It feels wonderful so I let him.
"Oh darling, Paul, oh my, you taste so good" John says as he pulls away. He always says that. But this, time it's different. He seems nervous.
"Can we, y'know, can we go further?" he asks, voice slightly trembling with hidden anticipation.
I nod as a response, pulling him to me by his collar, opening his shirt as well.
It all feels like a dream, his touch on me, my fingers dancing on his body.
Eventually our clothes leave our bodies, and we fall onto his bed. We kiss and kiss and touch each other and I rub his dick and it just feels wonderful and eventually I say "You've got to let me know what you wanna do, can you come inside of me?"
And he just whispers "Of course darling".
Him inside of me feels unbelievably, almost as if touching god. And like that we come, he inside of me and he tells me how much he loves me and I grin and then we fall asleep, still tangled into each others arms.
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It's one of my favourite memories of John, our first time, how gentle and in love we were. I thought about it so often that eventually I wrote a song about it. And of course John noticed. He always did. How could I ever expect differently?
"Did someone here miss me?" John teases me and it feels so comfy to hear him again like that. Teasing, playfully. To hear this voice again I thought I would never hear again, ever. Especially his loving tone.
I blush. "Yes, I am kinda serious? And yes, I missed you. It's an album about my memories and that's one of the best one I have about you so, y'know, it's kinda obvious I put it in there. And I mean I remembered the words I said back then so why not use them?"
John grinns at me. Pulls me into his arms. And kisses me softly. I sigh. Just as I did decades before. And let him hold me. Not to make it alright. It will never be alright. His early death will always be there, hovering over me, just as it did for 50 years of living without him. But now he's here again. With me. For an eternity.