Work Text:
Paul was laying in bed with John. Ever since having gotten top surgery, laying shitless pressed up against John was his favorite thing to do. And tonight was no exception, Paul laid in John's arms, the warm feeling of being loved radiating through him, setting deep in his bones and buzzing through his skin.
“I love you, John.” John hummed in response sleep tugging at him, barely registering the fact that Paul was talking to him. “Say it back?”
“Hm?”
“Say it back.”
“Hmm.” And with that John was out like a light. Leaving Paul without an I love you back. And for whatever reason that wasn’t ok, not tonight.
“Say it back Johnny please.” Paul knew why John hadn’t said it, he was barely conscious. But it didn’t sit right with him. He knew John loved him, and it’s not like John didn’t express that, John had told him he loved several times that day. It was something they both knew, something that could go unspoken but never did, because why keep quiet about something so perfect. Paul needed it tonight though he needed John to say that he loved him even though he knew it was true. Hell, he literally knew why John hadn’t said it, but he couldn’t shake it. Paul began to cry silently in John’s arms.
It was stupid it really was, he was perfectly content and happy not even 5 minutes ago, and now he was crying like a child over something so futile. “P-please Johnny,” Paul whispered, he didn’t intend on waking him, and didn’t really know why he was saying it, more for himself than anything, knowing that at least he tried. Paul sat there and cried, until he began to sob, unable to stop, and not wanting to wake John he found himself wandering downstairs. He sat on the couch and wrapped a blanket around himself. Flicked on the telly and stared blankly while he sobbed. Trying to force himself to stop, but to no avail. “W-what am I doing, John loves me I know he does!”
Paul sobbing slowly stopped, but the crying hadn’t. He sat and watched whatever stupid show was on at this hour, while tears continuously leaked from his eyes. 40 minutes later and Paul could feel the beginnings of a headache begin to throb in his head, he squeezed his eyes shut, and rubbed at his temples, trying to seek some relief. But deep down he knew the only way this headache was going to go away was to sleep it off. But he couldn’t crawl back in bed, he’d risk waking John, he didn’t want that, John did not like to be woken up. But couldn’t sleep on the couch, ever since they’d moved in together the couple hadn’t slept apart, even on the rare occasion that they were upset with each other, they still slept in the same bed every night. Having both come to a silent agreement that falling asleep together meant something significant.
So Paul came to the conclusion that he’d stay down here, and watch the telly, he didn’t think he’d be able to fall asleep anyway. Not with this clawing away at him.
And so Paul sat, he watched tv blankly until he physically had no tears left to cry, he sat until something interesting came on and held his attention for the next hour. And once that was over he poured himself a glass of gin. And then he sat on until the clock struck 3 and he really began to miss John’s warmth around him. He sat until he began to feel a buzz. He sat until his headache faded, only to come back after he began to cry once again, due to the fact that John was likely to wake up with nothing in his arms and that was Paul’s fault. He sat until he began to see the sun come over the horizon outside his window. And he sat until he had dark circles under his puffy eyes, and he felt like a complete jerk for leaving John in bed alone. And finally, he sat until he was too physically exhausted to hold his eyes open a moment longer.
John awoke to find Paul not in bed. Which wasn’t that strange he did tend to awake sooner than John, and sometimes would go make himself tea. John sat up and pulled himself out of bed throwing a shirt on and brushing his teeth before wandering downstairs in hopes of finding Paul, preferably with tea already made. Instead, what he did find was Paul passed out on the couch, the telly on, and a bottle of gin out on the counter. Odd, very very odd. Paul wasn’t one to do things like this.
Upon closer inspection, Paul looked like shit, and distress was clearly written on his face. John’s first thought was that maybe he’d gotten ill in the middle of the night. But Paul wouldn’t have been drinking if that was the case. So he ruled that out. Maybe he got upset with John? No that didn’t make sense they hadn’t fought in ages. Maybe Paul’s dysphoria had gotten to him again? But he doubted that as well seeing as he had minimal clothing on, and he tended to hide his body from himself by covering up. John decided he couldn’t figure out why Paul was passed out on the couch, but he figured Paul hadn’t really meant to, he knew Paul loved sleeping with him, and wouldn’t be here without reason.
John didn’t want to wake Paul he looked tired as shit, but he knew Paul’s neck and back would hurt when he woke up having fallen asleep in quite an awkward position. John kneeled in front of Paul on the couch, and placed a hand on Paul’s knee, light running his thumb over it.
“Paulie,” John said just above a whisper, Paul didn’t react. “Paul love,” a little loud this time. “Paul,”
Paul awoke with a start. “Shit! I didn’t mean to fall asleep, fuck John I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright, how’d you end up down here anyways?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” John would have believed that, had Paul not been drinking, Paul wasn’t a drinker.
“An’ why is that.”
“Just couldn’t sleep dunno, John.”
“Paul…”
“Honest!” Paul didn’t want to tell John why he was down here it was stupid and fucking embarrassing that he even got upset in the first place.
“Paul you were drinking, and had you been drinking beer, maybe. But you were drinking gin, that’s not something you do when you can’t sleep. C’mon love you can tell me.” John began to run his hand up and down Paul’s leg.
“It’s stupid.”
“Nonsense, if it got you this upset it can’t be stupid.”
Paul began to tear up, fucking crying again, really? How many times could he cry in less than 24 hours?
“Don’t cry, love.” Paul just looked down and shook his head, shameful, this was shameful. “C’mon baby, what’s got you feeling like this.”
“L-last night, you w-were like falling asleep.” Paul paused, catching his breath so he could speak more clearly.
“Mhm,” John said nodding, continuing to run his hand up and down Paul’s leg.
“And I uh, I said I love you a-and, you were barely awake, a-and you didn’t say it back a-and then I asked you to say it back and you didn’t cos y’know you were like b-basically asleep, a-and then I stared carrying l-like a fucking child, a-and I didn’t wanna wake you so I came down here, a-and I hadn’t meant to fall asleep but I-I did, ‘m sorry Johnny I really didn’t mean to.”
“Oh Paulie, that’s not stupid at all ok?”
“It was thought John, it is, I don’t know why I even got upset about in the first place, y-you were literally asleep!”
“Babe, it’s not stupid ok? You know I love you right?”
“I-I know Johnny, I love you too.”
“C’mere give us a hug.”
They both stood up and warped eachother in a warm embrace Paul leaning into the feeling of John’s warmth on his bare chest. “You could have woken me up.”
“But you hate that.”
“Not when it’s you waking me up, love. Especially when it’s to say I love you.”
“Thank you, John.”
“Of course.” John quickly pecked Paul on the lips. “Now, why don’t you kip upstairs, you’re tired as shit babe, I can see it.”
“Yeah, that sounds nice.”