Chapter Text
[Macca]: Hey mister detective quick question
[Macca]: where the fuck are you
[Johnny luv]: language
[Johnny luv]: i’m coming sir, calm down
[Johnny luv]: i’m walking as fast as i can
[Johnny luv]: i think you could consider this sprinting actually
[Johnny luv]: but just so you know i didn’t forget, i just had a little setback
[Macca]: you forgot didn't you
[Johnny luv]: i did not forget
[Johnny luv]: i had a situation going on
[Macca]: yeah
[Macca]: the situation being that you forgot
[Johnny luv]: how dare you accuse me of such a calamity
[Johnny luv]: i would never forget a date sir
[Johnny luv]: i just lost track of time
[Macca]: l i e s
[Johnny luv]: i’m not lying!
[Johnny luv]: i go take a shower
[Johnny luv]: i get in
[Johnny luv]: i close my eyes for a second
[Johnny luv]: and suddenly i’m late, Elvis The Cat is scratching the door, the phone is ringing and i’m out of shampoo
[Johnny luv]: in the background, sirens
[Johnny luv]: chaos ensues
[Macca]: wow you’re making it sound like an action movie
[Johnny luv]: there was a whole lot of action in my bedroom when i was getting dressed while making myself presentable for you, yeah
[Johnny luv]: but not as much action as last time you came home, ehh
[Johnny luv]: you can’t see me but i’m winking
[Macca]: you can’t see me but i’m regretting my decision of dating you
[Johnny luv]: ouch
[Macca]: i bet you were jumping in one feet while putting your pants on
[Johnny luv]: i was, indeed, jumping
[Johnny luv]: ey i’m here!! where are you?
Paul lifted his eyes from the phone screen and darted the park where they had agreed to meet. It didn’t take long for him to spot John, end instead of answering his text he walked towards him.
The closer he got, the better look he could get to his outfit. He could tell he had dressed in a hurry and his hair was still damp from his shower, but still— he looked gorgeous. He was wearing the red and white striped scarf he gave him in Valentine’s Day, black ripped jeans and a black coat, both of which made the scarf stand out even more.
He wasn’t angry at him anymore for being late (he hadn’t been actually angry , just a little upset), but he decided to make John suffer a little bit. The older one saw him when he was a few meters away, still checking his phone to see if Paul had answered, and a little, shy smile appeared in his face.
“‘Ello” he said when Paul was finally in front of him. He raised an eyebrow and stared at him in silence, hands hiding away from the cold breeze in his coat pockets. At that, John nibbled his lower lip. “I know, I’m sorry… But I’m only like, what— fifteen minutes late?”
“Twenty five.” Paul corrected, still keeping a straight face. “It’s cold, John.” he added, just to see his reaction and to make him feel a little bit guilty. It was cold.
John’s lips pursed beautifully and he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, clearly trying to come up with an excuse. In the end, he sighed. “I’m sorry, Paulie. I’ll set an alarm next time, yeah?” he said with a hopeful glance, looking at Paul like a puppy who broke a cushion and is waiting to be forgiven.
Paul could only stand it for a few seconds before bursting into laughter (he was only human, c’mon). “It’s alright, Johnny, I forgive you.” he said while wrapping his left arm around John’s waist. “Let’s go somewhere warmer, yeah?” he offered with a smile, turning his head to look at John, who was now smiling and had that look in his face, that a-ha! i got away with it face.
“Sounds good to me, Princess.”
Paul rolled his eyes at the nickname. He had gotten used to it now, but in the beginning it had been quite disturbing to be called that. Not once in his life had he used that nickname (or similar) with any of his partners, female partners. It was incredibly weird to be the one called that. But as he quickly learned, when John was told not to do something ( I told you to stop calling me that, John ) he did nothing but find ways to still manage to do it ( But it suits you, Paulie, what can I do? ).
They started walking towards a near café, and while waiting for a traffic light to change, John shivered loudly and with his whole body.
“Why did you even put those trousers on, anyway? It’s December.” Paul asked, pointing at the pieces of skin that could be seen in John’s legs.
“I didn’t realize they were the ripped ones until I had one shoe on, and I couldn’t allow myself the luxury of taking them off and putting on another pair, could I?” he answered with a grin, and shivered again.
“Poor Johnny.” Paul mocked, pouting.
John looked like he was about to say something, probably a bitter comeback, but suddenly shut his mouth and stared at Paul. After a few seconds, a “What is it?” on Paul’s tongue ready to get out, John launched forward and kissed him. It was a soft kiss, barely a brush of lips, but it startled Paul nevertheless, mostly because of how tender it was. He was quick to tighten his grip in the older one and press a warm hand against John’s cold cheek, caressing it softly with his thumb.
Not long had passed before they remembered they were in the middle of the street, kissing in front of a crosswalk. A couple of people eyed them as they walked passed them, and Paul felt blood rushing to his face so quick he could have fainted. He hid his face in John’s neck, who was now embracing him, and felt the vibrations of his laugh with a smile.
“Sorry. Your lips looked just too inviting when you made that pout.” he explained, and Paul whimpered while laughing, still hiding in his neck.
When they finally made it to the café, John was feeling a lot more warmer and Paul was craving something sweet to get rid of John’s taste in his lips— or else he’d go crazy.
They took a seat in one of the large couches the establishment offered and Paul had to stop John from taking a sip of his coffee when the thing was still fuming.
“Be patient or you’ll burn your tongue.”
“I can live without my tongue, I’ll find other ways to complain.”
“Well I can’t live without your tongue, so keep still.”
John stared at him wide eyed for a few seconds before smirking and leaving the mug in the table in front of them. “You can’t, eh?”
“Not now that I’ve gotten used to it.” Paul answered between soft blows to his own drink.
John sighed and slumped in the couch. “You sure know how to turn me on, Macca.” he said in a pained tone, caressing Paul’s back without taking his eyes off of him.
Paul laughed and nodded while taking a sip of his hot chocolate. Sure thing he burnt his lips, but just a little bit.
Half an hour had passed and both of them were already halfway through their drinks (John had actually “helped” Paul with his, because mine’s still to hot, Macca, love, and I’m so thirsty ) when John suddenly stopped talking and squinted.
“Is that… that jumper... ” he mumbled, frowning.
Paul looked down to his jumper. There was nothing special in it, really— it was actually quite old, but incredibly warm. “Yeah?” he asked, an eyebrow arched.
“Is it… the one you were wearing on your Tinder picture? The one with Martha?”
Paul blinked once, twice, even a third time before reacting. “Yeah! It is!” he exclaimed enthusiastically, smiling. “Jesus, you remembered?”
“Well, I mean… Yeah, it was kind of an important moment, don’t you think? I guess I remember lots of dumb details.” John mumbled, idly playing with his mug, making the liquid inside move in circles. Oh, Paul knew that look. He saw it for the first time when they made love for the first time. John had wanted to go down on him ever since they started taking each other’s clothes, but didn't dare to say so. He had that look, that “I want to say more than what I am saying, please read my mind or something because there’s no way I’m putting it in words but I’ll explode if I don’t do it so help ”. Eventually he didn’t need to say a thing, because there is only a few things that making your boyfriend stay still on the bed while you take his dick in your mouth can mean.
But now? That phase was way over. It had to be.
So Paul pressed the matter.
“Really? What kind of details?” he asked with a grin, moving closer to John, who shot him a glance before focusing in his coffee again.
“I don’t know.” he shrugged.
“Oh, I think you know.” Paul whispered in his ear, pressing the sides of their bodies together. “C’mon, Johnny. You’ve had me waiting for twenty five minutes before— it’s the least you can do to compensate me. Tell me what details you remember, love.” he added before dropping a kiss in his earlobe.
John shuddered, but it wasn’t because of the cold weather. Paul could see his Adam’s apple going up and down as he swallowed, lips pressed tightly together.
“The— uh” he started, taking a gulp of his drink as if it was alcohol before continuing. “The smell of your shampoo. We got pretty close when we shared my headphones, remember? So I could smell the, uh, tangerine in you.”
“Tangerine.” Paul repeated, a small smile in his lips. John nodded. As a treat, Paul caressed his neck with the tip of his nose affectionately. “What else do you remember?”
Letting a weak, trembling sigh, John continued. “You were wearing a white shirt and it had a stain in the collar.”
Paul gasped, looking at his boyfriend as if he had just killed his dog. “And you didn’t tell me ?” he exclaimed.
John smirked and shrugged.
Paul huffed, offended, but didn’t move from John’s side. “Outrageous. Go on.”
“Jesus, Paul— you kept following the rhythm of the songs with your feet and I wanted to kill you for it at the beginning, but in the end I kind of liked it, and kept and you kept trying to look out the window even though the lid was down, and you winked at the flight attendant when she offered some tea, and you fucking dozed off when I told you my cat’s name. You do remember that, don’t you?”
“How could I forget? It’s still the best name I’ve ever heard for a cat to this day.”
“And it will remain the best name you’ve ever heard. Any other questions, Princess ?”
Paul stared at him for a few seconds, letting the tension build (no, not really), but eventually cracked a smile and leaned in to press a soft kiss to John’s lip. It didn’t take much for the older lad to give into the kiss and raise a hand to Paul’s hair, interwinding his fingers with the soft strands.
After what felt like seconds and hours but had probably been a couple of minutes, John broke the kiss with a content sigh. Only, Paul was not finished yet.
“Just one. When will you show me the photos Aunt Mimi threatened you with?”
“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.”