Things We Do At Night

Part 8

The Next Morning

The cold draft in the room caused you to pull the blankets tighter around you and snuggled closer to Gene, hating that he had to keep the damn thing cranked up so high no matter what time of year it was. You wrapped your covered arm around the front of his stomach, leaning your head up; you kissed the bassist, neck, check, and then lips, hearing a groan escape his mouth. He grabbed you, pulling you to straddle his waist.

"Well, good morning to you too, sweetheart," A husky voice replied.

You opened your eyes and gasped, seeing Paul laying underneath you. His hair plastered over the pillow and the t-shirt he wore the previous night wrinkled. Paul moved his hands to your hips, moved his face back up to yours, trying to finish what you had already started. Groaning, you got off of his lap, scrambling around the room to find your shoes. Paul watched you with an amused look on his face for a few minutes until he spotted your sneakers over by the door.

"Why are you in such a panic? We did nothing wrong, and I kept my promise though, see still dress, though it's very uncomfortable." Paul said, gesturing toward his pants.

"We won't be doing anything like this again. Don't have to worry about having to keep your clothes on to sleep." You replied, finally spotting your shoes.

"Don't kid yourself, Y/N. Though you might catch your breath, before you go over there looking all hot and bothered, a fight is going to start. It's a travel day, and I don't want to deal with Gene for 12 hours on the bus." He said.

You stopped hopping around the room trying to get your shoes on and stared at the singer, knowing he was right on all accounts. The thought came creeping in that you should probably do everyone a favor and just leave the tour. You would give Gene the out he had wanted for over three years, plus let Paul find someone else and move on. It was hard for you to understand why he thought you were so special when even his best friend saw your worth. The sound of the bed creaking pulled you out of your sabotaging thoughts to find Paul walking toward you.

"I'm just going to the bathroom. We leave soon, so you better wake up the old demon. Let Gene get his bitching out before we all get on the bus." Paul said.

"Ah yes, the best job of all listening to him whine about travel times. I'll see you on the bus," You replied, opening the door.

"Hey, Y/N?" The singer called, peeking out the bathroom door

"Yeah?" You asked.

"Please think over everything I said last night. I meant every word. You know it and I think you feel the same too. You just let him destroy that confidence, and you deserve to be treated better. Let me be the one to show you that." Paul said, staring you in the eye.

You nodded your head at the comment, unsure of what to say back to the man or if you could do it without crying. Closing the door quietly, taking a deep breath as you walked toward Gene's room, crossing your fingers that the bassist would still be asleep. You need a minute to collect your thoughts before trying to tackle his attitude. Sliding the key through the door and flipping through the light, you caught sight of something that made your stomach drop.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" You screamed.

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(Paul's POV)

The singer turned the water to the shower, adjusting the temperature to the hottest setting available and letting it warm up. Paul gripped the side of the counter and stared at the man staring back at him in the mirror. The guitarist was both relieved and sad over the whole situation, knowing that even though you knew how he felt, you'd stay with Gene. Paul went to strip off his clothing when the sound of a high-pitched scream rang down the hall and through his door. He shut the water off and listened for a second, hearing your voice and other woman's.

"What the fuck did he do?" Paul said, buckling his belt as he ran out the room door.

Paul ran into the bassist room, finding him trying to pull you off of another girl with Gene, trying to break the two of you apart. The singer grabbed your waist and pulled you away with ease, glaring as his best friend went straight to the blonde, helping her to her feet. Paul put you over his shoulder, ignoring the slew of profanity you were hitting the singer with. After three years of friendship, he knew if he put you on the ground, the blonde bimbo Gene had stupidly brought back to the hotel room was going to be hurt. Paul pushed open the door again to his room and put you on the bed.

"Did you want to spend time with me and tell me all of those feelings you have, just to protect Gene and his slut?" Is that why he agreed to this bogus job offer? You asked angrily

"You think I follow some stupid boy's code, Y/N? I wanted to spend time with you, and honestly, I didn't give a fuck what I had to do to get my way! Y/N, sweetheart, the job to be a photographer is real; my feelings for you are real. If you were mine, Do you know who you would have to worry about in our bed?" Paul asked.

"No," You replied, still trying to calm down your anger.

"Our little girl. That's the only other woman that would have my attention, my time, and my love. You'd never have to worry about that bullshit in the next room because you'd be with our little ones and me, too. Stop letting him do this to you, please. You don't have to say yes right now, but stay away from him for a few weeks. You can stay in a room with me with two separate beds, or we will get you a room. Just spend time with me, and let me show you." He said,

You wrapped your arms around the singer's neck, taking him by surprise as you wept into his shoulder, making his anger toward Gene grow. He clenched you against his chest, letting you sob for over five minutes until you came up for air. You looked up at Paul, trying to wipe the stray tears that continued to fall, making the singer's heartbreak. The sound of the room door being opened brought Paul to his feet. Gene walked around the corner, looking both scared and angry as his eyes moved between you and his best friend.

"We need to talk Y/N, now," Gene said.

"No, We need to talk, and we can do it in your room while you pack, so you don't make the whole band late getting on the bus, since you couldn't keep your dick in your pants for the night," Paul replied, pushing his bandmate toward the door.

Paul looked over his shoulder, seeing your face fall again, and knew it was going to be awhile until you let down your guard again, even with the singer. The door closed behind the two of them, and the younger man continued to push the bassist toward his room. The band didn't need a reputation for being disruptive in the hotels that let them stay. They were too old for that. Gene jerked away from his bandmate and went over to his suitcase, throwing everything into it. Paul stood at the door with his arms folded in front of his chest, watching the bassist.

"This isn't your concern, Paul. Y/N knew what I was all about when she got with me, and you were keeping her company. You'd be pissed if I came bursting in there last night to find out what you were doing to my girlfriend," Gene said.

"What are you implying here, Gene, That I'm sneaking around your back with your girlfriend? Is that why you brought someone here last night, because you thought I was fucking your girlfriend?" Paul asked, pushing away from the door.

"You're telling me nothing happened, not once last night," Gene replied, throwing his bag toward the door.

"Gene, I've liked Y/N since the moment I saw her, but because you went for her, I backed off. I don't hurt those I say I care about. I wouldn't do anything with Y/N out of respect for her because she thinks there is some hope for the two of you." Paul said.

"Then let her keep thinking that. I'll pay her some attention over the next couple of days that'll shut her up for a bit. Then you have her helping you and then the band photoshoot when we get to Florida for that Dick Clark special. I don't care if you two hang out. It's that slut I have to worry about trying to sleep with you." Gene replied.

Paul glared up at his bandmate and then searched the room for your bags, knowing if he didn't get away from Gene, there would be a second fight in the room in under an hour. The singer moved across the room, picking up the rest of your belongings and zipping up your bags. Heading toward the door, Paul stopped in front of Gene, looking him up and down.

"Gene, I think it would be best if you didn't say another word to me until the interview in Florida. You disgust me," Paul said, slamming the door behind him.