Take a sad song and make it better

Chapter Ten

John, Paul and George rushed through the door of mendips and collapsed on the couch and chair in the living room.

"I am sleepin' right 'ere. Not moving again till morning." George said as he sprawled out on the couch, kicking and pushing Paul till he fell off the couch and onto the floor.
"Could of just asked me to move you git." Paul said grumpily.

"So um... Where are we sleeping John?" Paul questioned, soundly slightly nervous.

"Top and tailing in my bed, like always ya idiot. Come on let's go to bed now.... Besides I want to talk to you..." John replied, locking eyes with George when he finished. George gave him a reassuring nod and a small smile.

"Oh alright then.." Paul said and heaved himself off the ground and to his feet, and then made his way up the stairs to John's room.

John also got to his feet, but before he left  to follow Paul he grabbed the quilt that was draped over the back and of the arm chair and placed it over George.

George wrapped the blanket around himself like a cocoon, leaving only his head poking out the top.

"Well, wish me luck Georgie Porgie. If all goes wrong, ignore the yelling. If all goes right, ignore the moaning. Or wank to it, I don't mind." John said with a wink.

George chuckled quietly and whispered good luck in a tried, but still definitely nervous voice.

John patted Georges quilt clad shoulder and made his way up the stairs.

John made a quick detour to the bathroom before heading to his bedroom. He walked through the bathroom door and switched on the light which cast a yellowish light around the dark room. John turned on the cold water tap and splash the icy liquid onto his face, waking himself up a little bit. He turned off the tap and looked in the mirror above the sink.

He didn't look too bad all things considered, his hair was a little messy, nicely tousled from the wind walking home. His face was slightly flushed, possibly from the alcohol in his system, possibly from the fact that he was about to confess his attraction for Paul, to Paul.

John stared into his own eyes in the mirror for a few moments longer before he told himself he needed to stop procrastinating and get it over with. John dried his wet hands on a towel and switched off the bathroom light and walked to his bedroom door.

John had to stop himself from knocking,

"This is my fuckin' room." He thought and pushed the door open.

Paul was sitting on the end of Johns bed, wearing only a pair of pyjama pants. Shirtless. It was a lovely yet awful distraction.

Paul was jotting something down in the little notebook that he carried around with him everywhere. While Paul was writing, John quickly stripped from his teddy boy ensemble and into a comfortable pair of pyjama pants. He decided to go shirtless as well, simply because he liked to think it would distract Paul as much as Paul's shirtlessness was distracting John.

John cleared his throat to get Paul's attention. Paul raised his hand, gesturing that he needed a moment longer. He finished what he was writing before he chucked the small book and pen onto his guitar case.

"Alright what did you want to talk about? I was kinda hoping to talk to you too..." Paul said, hoping his voice didn't sounds as shaky and nervous as he felt.

John sighed and ran his right hand through his hair before he sat on the opposite end of the bed to Paul. He decided it was probably best to talk about George first... Maybe not best, but he wanted more time till he had to talk about himself.