The Dr. Maxwell S.H. Institution: Chapter 8a
Title: The Dr. Maxwell S.H. Institution
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own the Beatles or any rights of theirs', this whole story is purely fictive and I am not suggesting any occurrence in this has taken place for real.
A/N: It's been a long, long time since I last posted a story with this rating. I wrote one recently, but I still have to change the things my beta pointed out, and I don't want to post TOO much at once ;) Anyway, it took me some time to write this and I'm not sure whether I love it a lot or like it, but I hope you will enjoy it anyway. This is just John's part for now, Paul's will follow later on.
Chapter 8a
November '57
John
John woke up in the middle of the night, sweaty and breathless; immediately knowing he'd had another nightmare.
They had become more frequent last week, and even though he hadn't been able to sleep well before, and had thought of is at being annoying, this was far worse. Each day he looked at himself in the mirror he saw the dark circles under his eyes grow. His body felt tired, as well did his mind, and he couldn't be bothered to do much else than lay on his bed and perhaps strum or try to write and draw for a while every now and then.
Nothing could keep his mind off Paul anymore though.
So alright. He knew he liked Paul, had forced himself to face it with everything that had happened last week... In fact, he happened to like him a lot more than he probably should. He also had kissed Paul - or well, it was the other way around really. Paul had kissed him, which was why they definitely needed a talk and he knew Paul was waiting for it. He'd been looking at him, raising his eyebrows whenever John opened his mouth and wanted to say something.
Time after time he'd snapped his mouth closed again, because he hated to talk about his feelings, and not about sensitive subjects in particular - this definitely was.
What was bothering him most, though, was that Stu knew about it. He'd taken John apart in the corridor two days ago, and had whispered that he knew. At first John didn't understand what he meant but after a lot of 'it!'s and raises of his eyebrows, John had realised Stu meant the kiss. He'd gulped and he knew his face had turned pale in response, which only secured Stu it had happened.
John knew Stu would start asking about it again. Paul probably would too, if John kept quiet for much longer.
And hell, this was only if he did manage to put the talk off until their questions. He didn't even know how much longer he'd be able to keep himself quiet. It wasn't like he usually couldn't keep quiet about his feelings for as long as he wanted to, there were some things he'd never told anybody about (including this feeling, up until now) but sharing a room with ... Paul was undeniably making things a little more complicated. He could hardly avoid the boy he was having feelings for, this way.
The intensity of it all didn't help either. When Paul had kissed him (and shit, another reason why he should not keep it quiet, although he was fucking scared by the idea of having a relationship with a boy - it wasn't meant to be that way, after all. Then again, another part of him, a much bigger part probably, did want him. Did want to be with Paul.) he'd run off and collapsed in his room a little while later. His knees had been shaking, tremors wrecking his body and it had made him burst out in tears as soon as he had been alone. It wasn't normal, the way he felt about Paul, but he did feel it nonetheless. Paul probably did too, otherwise he wouldn't have kissed him, John was pretty sure about this as one teenage boy obviously should not want to kiss another.
He hadn't returned to school that Monday. Stuart had come by to see him, right before he went back to his classes, and asked whether John was okay. He'd shook his head, and Stu had left, not asking him what was wrong because it was pretty obvious John was not alright emotionally. Stuart had seen him like this before, once or maybe twice, and knew this was best.
When Paul had returned to their room later that day, he and John didn't exchange any words. They did stare at each other though, for such a long time John thought the world around him would eventually fade away and become nothing. He had started to make up a story about a place where it was just him and Paul, where they could be whatever way they wanted to be. It was the first time John allowed his thoughts to continue when he noticed it happened; before - when it had only been an occasional thing of about once a week, him thinking about Paul - he would cut off his thoughts as soon as he realised what he was doing.
He didn't exactly know why. For some reason it felt like something had happened - changed maybe - between them. When he lost track of his fantasy and suddenly found himself staring back at Paul once again, he saw the younger boy was lost in a dream like state as well, as his eyes were looking glassy and not looking directly at him; as if they were out of focus. Normally Paul's eyes were filled with passion, laughter and joy, or sometimes when it was late at night, with a sorrow and grief John didn't understand.
From then on, it was all Paul. His entire life. All his thoughts, ideas, drawings, writings, everything was - whether directly or indirectly - related to Paul.
He wondered whether he could stop these thoughts if he talked to Paul. He only had to say he didn't fancy Paul, he supposed, then everything could go back to normal. Get him out of his mind, then go on with his life, maybe find a nice girl when he was back in Liverpool during Christmas holiday, if Mimi allowed him to leave the house.
It was just too bad those were only his rational thoughts.
His heart did tell him something completely different: he wanted to be with Paul. Even though he was a boy. Even though they would never be able to be together in the way he could be with a girl. Even though he knew Stu would be disappointed in him. Even though they would have to keep this secret.
Because it felt like his heart already belonged to Paul, and had done so for quite some time. It wasn't just the music he was playing with Paul that made him feel alive; it was Paul staring at him as well. It wasn't just the lyrics he wrote that made him happy, but the added phrases of Paul, completing his, that were the biggest joy of them all. It wasn't Paul looking at him that made him feel warm from the inside, it was the way Paul was looking; as if he understood John, respected him and - perhaps even loved him. The way they didn't even need to use words to know what the other thought.
He still had to talk to Paul though. And if it wasn't now, it would have to be tomorrow - which probably meant he wouldn't be able to sleep any time soon.
As it was, John sat up in his bed, looking over at Paul. The younger boy was obviously asleep, but he didn't really care as he stood up and walked over to the other bed. This was for Paul his good as well. The floor was cold, and the air even colder, so he was shaking violently by the time he reached Paul's bed.
He sat down on the blankets, next to the sleeping form of Paul. He'd turned his head to the wall, John noticed, his pretty face hidden in the shadows but his hair illuminated by the light of the moon that shone upon it - they hadn't closed the curtains tonight because it was full moon and that strange kind of light you only got to see some nights -- special nights, John realised.
Paul started to stir - John guessed he was waking up from the extra weight on the bed.
''John?'' he groaned, but John couldn't tell if Paul was awake or not. He thought he might be, but ... he could be having a dream too, could he? When Paul turned to his back, and looked at him sleepily, John obviously knew Paul was awake.
''Paul?'' John whispered.
Paul squinted when John turned on the light on his bedside. '''What the fuck are you doing?'' he whispered, sounding tired but John also heard the annoyance. He would have to continue though, have this talk.
''Can we talk?'' he said quietly.
''No!'' Paul grunted, ''fuck, of course not, it's in the middle of the night!''
''And it's important,'' John said, swallowing away the emotions that were threatening to block his throat so he wouldn't be able to talk.
Paul sighed. ''Alright, if you don't take too much time.''
John nodded.
And then didn't say anything. He couldn't. He worried about what would happen if he'd misread Paul's behaviour (which was nearly impossible, but there always was a chance it had, in fact, happened), or if a lot of things would change - their friendship would be different of course, as it technically wouldn't be friendship anymore if they - well - but would his friendship with Stu change? If he and Paul decided to do something with their feelings (assuming Paul had feelings for him, which ... okay, he was starting to think his thoughts in a vicious circle of doom right now) he probably would have to tell Stu at some point as well. Especially as he knew about the first kiss. John thought that, if he now thought of that one kiss as their first kiss, there would have to follow more.
''John?'' Paul interrupted his thoughts.
''Uh,'' he said, slightly startled. He thought it might be because he was tired but wasn't really sure...
''Are you gonna say something or not?'' Paul asked. ''Because if you're not, you might as well get your arse back into your own bed, and otherwise get in here because I can feel you shiver although I know'' - and by only hearing the way Paul said it John could've told Paul rolled his eyes - ''you wouldn't ever admit being cold.''
''What?'' John said, but Paul was already trying to push him away.
''Get up, you git,'' but his eyes were betraying him; Paul loved this. John sighed and got up, standing up and stretching like an old man. Paul pulled back the covers so John could lay down.
He hesitated. Only for a moment though, as he was pretty sure this was what he wanted and Paul wouldn't ever dare to try something. Not if he didn't want to. John was sure of it. Then he lay down, and Paul shivered because their legs touched and the bed was barely big enough to hold two boys - hell, it was barely big enough to fit one boy in.
Paul reached over him, turning off the light.
''Why?'' John asked.
''It might be easier for you to tell if you can't see me,'' Paul shrugged, John could feel it. ''But your eyes'll get used to the dark so you have to tell me soon. If you thinks it helps, I mean, not being able to see the person you're talking to.''
''Uh, ok,'' John replied.
Paul wriggled a bit, and suddenly there was a bit more space. It wasn't as if they had been lying flush against each other before, but it felt a bit more comfortable now.
''John,'' Paul whispered when John still didn't talk, ''you can tell me everything, you know? And I'm not gonna be disgusted if it's...''
''No, I know,'' John quickly replied. He didn't want to hear Paul say the words. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and finally said it. ''I like you.'' Even though he could barely see Paul, John knew he was smiling. ''I really do. And I'm so sorry for treating you like a piece of filth lately but I've been feeling so bloody fucked up.'' He heard how his voice croaked while he was talking, but he didn't care, not tonight. ''And I really don't want you to think that I feel nothing for you because I fucking well do -'' by this point his voice broke, and he couldn't talk anymore.
Instead he brought up a hand to Paul's neck, or where he thought it was, and pulled him close because the need to kiss him was too strong.
If he wasn't mistaking, Paul moaned the moment their lips touched. John smiled because of it, but when he felt Paul's tongue prodding against his lips he stopped. His heart was beating so loudly that its pounding was all he could hear - that, and Paul's breathing, so close to his own face.
From then on everything moved quickly. Paul's arms pulled him closer - they were a lot stronger than John had expected, although he hadn't really known what to expect - and their legs tangled up. John's own were cold, while Paul's were warm (and hairy).
Paul pulled away from the kiss, his chest heaving. ''I suppose you are more comfortable with yourself now?'' John shrugged - he didn't know really. The only think he'd like right now was to kiss Paul again, and again, and then some more.
So he did.
Paul didn't stop now, but slid a hand under John's shirt, pressing against his back, and making John shiver even though Paul his hand was warm. The both of them manoeuvred so that they were laying against each other, and their thin PJ trousers didn't hide a lot. John could feel Paul was as aroused as he was.
In the mean Paul tried to push his leg between John's, which he found rather unnecessary until he figured out Paul's intentions. Soon he was lying on his back, with Paul atop of him, pressure where he needed it and it was so fucking hot underneath the covers, their bodies radiating warmth and Paul, all he saw and felt and knew about was Paul right then. It was so real, and so good to be this close, and John bloody well knew this was what he had wanted all along.
Without realising, he found himself staring deep into Paul's eyes, their faces close to each other but once again they had stopped kissing. Paul's breathing was warm in his face, and his eyes looked questionable while John could feel the younger boy was moving his hands to his hips, fumbling with his shirt. He realised what Paul wanted to do, and nodded.
Paul sat up, and started to - slowly - slide John's shirt up. John gasped, still staring into Paul's eyes. When his chest was reached, John also sat up to take his shirt completely off. In the dim light he saw Paul biting on his lip, and John took off Paul's shirt as well, not wanting to waste as much time as Paul did with his' because he wanted the contact and he wanted it right now. When he was lying back down, he swung his arm around Paul's back and dragged him along. They crashed together onto the mattress and John started to suck on Paul's back while Paul was trying to move, struggling nearly but more like grinding which was a lot better because it felt ohsofuckinggood.
He tried to touch Paul's body wherever he could, just because now he was allowed and it didn't seem like Paul did mind it anyway. The both of them were moaning but John could hardly tell their sounds apart, they might as well come from both of them at the same time. Besides, they weren't interested in keeping it quiet anyway - only because they couldn't. When he slid his hands over the waistband of Paul's PJ-trousers, he didn't feel as scared as he thought he'd be at this point (although it wasn't like he'd been thinking about this before, not really at least).
''Go on,'' Paul whispered in his ear, breaking the kiss, but only for mere seconds. Then he returned to kiss John again, biting on his lower lip and then slipping his tongue back in John's mouth, so their moans were cut back in sound again.
John went ahead and slid Paul's trousers and pants off in one go, then quickly ran his hands over the smooth, warm skin. He didn't dare looking between their bodies, but Paul sat up yet again, so he could get out of his trousers more easily, without getting constricted by them. He quickly moved his hands to John's trousers - a prominent bulge visible in front of them - and John nodded. He had closed his eyes because he was scared of seeing Paul naked because it would only confirm his... well, manliness. Feeling it was one thing, and he was fine with that, but this? Vision? He didn't know.
The air was cold, especially when it hit his warm body. He carefully opened his eyes when he didn't feel Paul lay down again, and found the other boy was sitting on the other end of the bed, staring at him - his body - with his eyes opened wide. Paul's chest was pale, a lot paler than John had somehow expected, but maybe it stood out more now it was in the blue light of the moon. He could see Paul's breathing was quick, his chest moving in time with his shoulders and stomach. His eyes followed the dark trail of hair that led down to...
To Paul's arousal. His erection. Another boy's - Paul's cock. John suddenly understood why Paul hadn't moved before. It wasn't disgusting, or scary to see it. It wasn't that all of a sudden he felt like running away, or that his own arousal weakened (it was more like the opposite). It was just... strange. He knew what Paul was feeling, the warmth pooling in his underbelly and the heat in his groin - he was feeling the same. It was just that... Paul was feeling like that because of him. Everything was covered in shadows, but if it hadn't been it hadn't shocked him more. Nor had it been able to arouse him more because, even though it was fucking strange, it only made him want Paul more and more and he needed to feel him near his own body.
Paul started to shiver as neither of them were laying under the covers anymore. John half sat up, lying his hand on Paul's arm to assure him everything was fine. Everything would be okay, he was sure of it. John didn't say the words out loud but Paul seemed to have understood them anyway. He could feel Paul was tense - nerves maybe? Neither of them had done this before. He saw the younger boy take a couple of deep breaths.
Then there was contact.
They pulled the covers back over their now naked bodies, then returned to kissing, and their restless hands kept wandering over the other's body so they were holding each other in an embrace that was so tight John was pretty sure he'd end up with a couple of red scratches and bruises the day after.
There was one area they both avoided though; it was there where they both (if John was right about Paul feeling as desperate as him, but he thought he was - this was because of the moaning and whining sounds that were escaping from the younger boy, occasionally an animalistic growl in between) needed the touches most of all, the hottest area of their body and there where John thought his ability to think had moved to. He supposed that if he took the initiative, Paul would follow him, but he didn't - couldn't.
The reason why?
He was fucking scared. It was ridiculous and - yes - he did feel ashamed for it but he couldn't get himself to it. He wanted to, so bloody desperately, but something didn't let him. What was worst was that the kissing continued, as did the touching up and he feared he would have to get himself off if it went on for even a minute or so longer. They weren't grinding against each other now, as they had been when they were still clothed, because their space to move - there wasn't any, really.
When Paul moaned his name, sounding more desperate than John had ever heard someone, they both stopped their movements and gaped at each other because they both knew what Paul wanted - and that it was what John wanted as well.
Give up caring, John thought to himself, because if he only gave up caring he'd do it. It couldn't be much different than wanking himself off.
With this in the back of his mind, he touched Paul - evoking another gasp and a groan, rumbling deep in the boy's chest. He slowly moved his hand up and down, and moaned when Paul mirrored his action. John used his other hand to get Paul's face closer to his own again, so they could continue kissing. His body was starting to tremble, the first signs of his approaching orgasm, and Paul was writhing against the palm of his hand now. When he pressed his hand harder against Paul's groin, Paul shivered violently and John could feel the thick translucent white fluid seep through his fingers, dripping onto his stomach, onto Paul's hand and his own erection. It was all too much for John and he let himself go, bucking up into Paul's hand and coming as well.
Paul collapsed atop of him, his head buried in the crook of John's neck, and John wrapped his arms around Paul's back - slick with sweat and the remains John had on his hands. It felt everything but clean but he couldn't get up for the sake of his life, his entire body had gone limp and Paul's atop of him. Washing himself (or Paul? - that might be a good idea!) could be done tomorrow.
Right then he only wanted to go to sleep, and so he did, with Paul's body still covering half of his, and while it may not have been the most comfortable position to fall asleep in, this was definitely what John preferred.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own the Beatles or any rights of theirs', this whole story is purely fictive and I am not suggesting any occurrence in this has taken place for real.
A/N: It's been a long, long time since I last posted a story with this rating. I wrote one recently, but I still have to change the things my beta pointed out, and I don't want to post TOO much at once ;) Anyway, it took me some time to write this and I'm not sure whether I love it a lot or like it, but I hope you will enjoy it anyway. This is just John's part for now, Paul's will follow later on.
Chapter 8a
November '57
John
John woke up in the middle of the night, sweaty and breathless; immediately knowing he'd had another nightmare.
They had become more frequent last week, and even though he hadn't been able to sleep well before, and had thought of is at being annoying, this was far worse. Each day he looked at himself in the mirror he saw the dark circles under his eyes grow. His body felt tired, as well did his mind, and he couldn't be bothered to do much else than lay on his bed and perhaps strum or try to write and draw for a while every now and then.
Nothing could keep his mind off Paul anymore though.
So alright. He knew he liked Paul, had forced himself to face it with everything that had happened last week... In fact, he happened to like him a lot more than he probably should. He also had kissed Paul - or well, it was the other way around really. Paul had kissed him, which was why they definitely needed a talk and he knew Paul was waiting for it. He'd been looking at him, raising his eyebrows whenever John opened his mouth and wanted to say something.
Time after time he'd snapped his mouth closed again, because he hated to talk about his feelings, and not about sensitive subjects in particular - this definitely was.
What was bothering him most, though, was that Stu knew about it. He'd taken John apart in the corridor two days ago, and had whispered that he knew. At first John didn't understand what he meant but after a lot of 'it!'s and raises of his eyebrows, John had realised Stu meant the kiss. He'd gulped and he knew his face had turned pale in response, which only secured Stu it had happened.
John knew Stu would start asking about it again. Paul probably would too, if John kept quiet for much longer.
And hell, this was only if he did manage to put the talk off until their questions. He didn't even know how much longer he'd be able to keep himself quiet. It wasn't like he usually couldn't keep quiet about his feelings for as long as he wanted to, there were some things he'd never told anybody about (including this feeling, up until now) but sharing a room with ... Paul was undeniably making things a little more complicated. He could hardly avoid the boy he was having feelings for, this way.
The intensity of it all didn't help either. When Paul had kissed him (and shit, another reason why he should not keep it quiet, although he was fucking scared by the idea of having a relationship with a boy - it wasn't meant to be that way, after all. Then again, another part of him, a much bigger part probably, did want him. Did want to be with Paul.) he'd run off and collapsed in his room a little while later. His knees had been shaking, tremors wrecking his body and it had made him burst out in tears as soon as he had been alone. It wasn't normal, the way he felt about Paul, but he did feel it nonetheless. Paul probably did too, otherwise he wouldn't have kissed him, John was pretty sure about this as one teenage boy obviously should not want to kiss another.
He hadn't returned to school that Monday. Stuart had come by to see him, right before he went back to his classes, and asked whether John was okay. He'd shook his head, and Stu had left, not asking him what was wrong because it was pretty obvious John was not alright emotionally. Stuart had seen him like this before, once or maybe twice, and knew this was best.
When Paul had returned to their room later that day, he and John didn't exchange any words. They did stare at each other though, for such a long time John thought the world around him would eventually fade away and become nothing. He had started to make up a story about a place where it was just him and Paul, where they could be whatever way they wanted to be. It was the first time John allowed his thoughts to continue when he noticed it happened; before - when it had only been an occasional thing of about once a week, him thinking about Paul - he would cut off his thoughts as soon as he realised what he was doing.
He didn't exactly know why. For some reason it felt like something had happened - changed maybe - between them. When he lost track of his fantasy and suddenly found himself staring back at Paul once again, he saw the younger boy was lost in a dream like state as well, as his eyes were looking glassy and not looking directly at him; as if they were out of focus. Normally Paul's eyes were filled with passion, laughter and joy, or sometimes when it was late at night, with a sorrow and grief John didn't understand.
From then on, it was all Paul. His entire life. All his thoughts, ideas, drawings, writings, everything was - whether directly or indirectly - related to Paul.
He wondered whether he could stop these thoughts if he talked to Paul. He only had to say he didn't fancy Paul, he supposed, then everything could go back to normal. Get him out of his mind, then go on with his life, maybe find a nice girl when he was back in Liverpool during Christmas holiday, if Mimi allowed him to leave the house.
It was just too bad those were only his rational thoughts.
His heart did tell him something completely different: he wanted to be with Paul. Even though he was a boy. Even though they would never be able to be together in the way he could be with a girl. Even though he knew Stu would be disappointed in him. Even though they would have to keep this secret.
Because it felt like his heart already belonged to Paul, and had done so for quite some time. It wasn't just the music he was playing with Paul that made him feel alive; it was Paul staring at him as well. It wasn't just the lyrics he wrote that made him happy, but the added phrases of Paul, completing his, that were the biggest joy of them all. It wasn't Paul looking at him that made him feel warm from the inside, it was the way Paul was looking; as if he understood John, respected him and - perhaps even loved him. The way they didn't even need to use words to know what the other thought.
He still had to talk to Paul though. And if it wasn't now, it would have to be tomorrow - which probably meant he wouldn't be able to sleep any time soon.
As it was, John sat up in his bed, looking over at Paul. The younger boy was obviously asleep, but he didn't really care as he stood up and walked over to the other bed. This was for Paul his good as well. The floor was cold, and the air even colder, so he was shaking violently by the time he reached Paul's bed.
He sat down on the blankets, next to the sleeping form of Paul. He'd turned his head to the wall, John noticed, his pretty face hidden in the shadows but his hair illuminated by the light of the moon that shone upon it - they hadn't closed the curtains tonight because it was full moon and that strange kind of light you only got to see some nights -- special nights, John realised.
Paul started to stir - John guessed he was waking up from the extra weight on the bed.
''John?'' he groaned, but John couldn't tell if Paul was awake or not. He thought he might be, but ... he could be having a dream too, could he? When Paul turned to his back, and looked at him sleepily, John obviously knew Paul was awake.
''Paul?'' John whispered.
Paul squinted when John turned on the light on his bedside. '''What the fuck are you doing?'' he whispered, sounding tired but John also heard the annoyance. He would have to continue though, have this talk.
''Can we talk?'' he said quietly.
''No!'' Paul grunted, ''fuck, of course not, it's in the middle of the night!''
''And it's important,'' John said, swallowing away the emotions that were threatening to block his throat so he wouldn't be able to talk.
Paul sighed. ''Alright, if you don't take too much time.''
John nodded.
And then didn't say anything. He couldn't. He worried about what would happen if he'd misread Paul's behaviour (which was nearly impossible, but there always was a chance it had, in fact, happened), or if a lot of things would change - their friendship would be different of course, as it technically wouldn't be friendship anymore if they - well - but would his friendship with Stu change? If he and Paul decided to do something with their feelings (assuming Paul had feelings for him, which ... okay, he was starting to think his thoughts in a vicious circle of doom right now) he probably would have to tell Stu at some point as well. Especially as he knew about the first kiss. John thought that, if he now thought of that one kiss as their first kiss, there would have to follow more.
''John?'' Paul interrupted his thoughts.
''Uh,'' he said, slightly startled. He thought it might be because he was tired but wasn't really sure...
''Are you gonna say something or not?'' Paul asked. ''Because if you're not, you might as well get your arse back into your own bed, and otherwise get in here because I can feel you shiver although I know'' - and by only hearing the way Paul said it John could've told Paul rolled his eyes - ''you wouldn't ever admit being cold.''
''What?'' John said, but Paul was already trying to push him away.
''Get up, you git,'' but his eyes were betraying him; Paul loved this. John sighed and got up, standing up and stretching like an old man. Paul pulled back the covers so John could lay down.
He hesitated. Only for a moment though, as he was pretty sure this was what he wanted and Paul wouldn't ever dare to try something. Not if he didn't want to. John was sure of it. Then he lay down, and Paul shivered because their legs touched and the bed was barely big enough to hold two boys - hell, it was barely big enough to fit one boy in.
Paul reached over him, turning off the light.
''Why?'' John asked.
''It might be easier for you to tell if you can't see me,'' Paul shrugged, John could feel it. ''But your eyes'll get used to the dark so you have to tell me soon. If you thinks it helps, I mean, not being able to see the person you're talking to.''
''Uh, ok,'' John replied.
Paul wriggled a bit, and suddenly there was a bit more space. It wasn't as if they had been lying flush against each other before, but it felt a bit more comfortable now.
''John,'' Paul whispered when John still didn't talk, ''you can tell me everything, you know? And I'm not gonna be disgusted if it's...''
''No, I know,'' John quickly replied. He didn't want to hear Paul say the words. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and finally said it. ''I like you.'' Even though he could barely see Paul, John knew he was smiling. ''I really do. And I'm so sorry for treating you like a piece of filth lately but I've been feeling so bloody fucked up.'' He heard how his voice croaked while he was talking, but he didn't care, not tonight. ''And I really don't want you to think that I feel nothing for you because I fucking well do -'' by this point his voice broke, and he couldn't talk anymore.
Instead he brought up a hand to Paul's neck, or where he thought it was, and pulled him close because the need to kiss him was too strong.
If he wasn't mistaking, Paul moaned the moment their lips touched. John smiled because of it, but when he felt Paul's tongue prodding against his lips he stopped. His heart was beating so loudly that its pounding was all he could hear - that, and Paul's breathing, so close to his own face.
From then on everything moved quickly. Paul's arms pulled him closer - they were a lot stronger than John had expected, although he hadn't really known what to expect - and their legs tangled up. John's own were cold, while Paul's were warm (and hairy).
Paul pulled away from the kiss, his chest heaving. ''I suppose you are more comfortable with yourself now?'' John shrugged - he didn't know really. The only think he'd like right now was to kiss Paul again, and again, and then some more.
So he did.
Paul didn't stop now, but slid a hand under John's shirt, pressing against his back, and making John shiver even though Paul his hand was warm. The both of them manoeuvred so that they were laying against each other, and their thin PJ trousers didn't hide a lot. John could feel Paul was as aroused as he was.
In the mean Paul tried to push his leg between John's, which he found rather unnecessary until he figured out Paul's intentions. Soon he was lying on his back, with Paul atop of him, pressure where he needed it and it was so fucking hot underneath the covers, their bodies radiating warmth and Paul, all he saw and felt and knew about was Paul right then. It was so real, and so good to be this close, and John bloody well knew this was what he had wanted all along.
Without realising, he found himself staring deep into Paul's eyes, their faces close to each other but once again they had stopped kissing. Paul's breathing was warm in his face, and his eyes looked questionable while John could feel the younger boy was moving his hands to his hips, fumbling with his shirt. He realised what Paul wanted to do, and nodded.
Paul sat up, and started to - slowly - slide John's shirt up. John gasped, still staring into Paul's eyes. When his chest was reached, John also sat up to take his shirt completely off. In the dim light he saw Paul biting on his lip, and John took off Paul's shirt as well, not wanting to waste as much time as Paul did with his' because he wanted the contact and he wanted it right now. When he was lying back down, he swung his arm around Paul's back and dragged him along. They crashed together onto the mattress and John started to suck on Paul's back while Paul was trying to move, struggling nearly but more like grinding which was a lot better because it felt ohsofuckinggood.
He tried to touch Paul's body wherever he could, just because now he was allowed and it didn't seem like Paul did mind it anyway. The both of them were moaning but John could hardly tell their sounds apart, they might as well come from both of them at the same time. Besides, they weren't interested in keeping it quiet anyway - only because they couldn't. When he slid his hands over the waistband of Paul's PJ-trousers, he didn't feel as scared as he thought he'd be at this point (although it wasn't like he'd been thinking about this before, not really at least).
''Go on,'' Paul whispered in his ear, breaking the kiss, but only for mere seconds. Then he returned to kiss John again, biting on his lower lip and then slipping his tongue back in John's mouth, so their moans were cut back in sound again.
John went ahead and slid Paul's trousers and pants off in one go, then quickly ran his hands over the smooth, warm skin. He didn't dare looking between their bodies, but Paul sat up yet again, so he could get out of his trousers more easily, without getting constricted by them. He quickly moved his hands to John's trousers - a prominent bulge visible in front of them - and John nodded. He had closed his eyes because he was scared of seeing Paul naked because it would only confirm his... well, manliness. Feeling it was one thing, and he was fine with that, but this? Vision? He didn't know.
The air was cold, especially when it hit his warm body. He carefully opened his eyes when he didn't feel Paul lay down again, and found the other boy was sitting on the other end of the bed, staring at him - his body - with his eyes opened wide. Paul's chest was pale, a lot paler than John had somehow expected, but maybe it stood out more now it was in the blue light of the moon. He could see Paul's breathing was quick, his chest moving in time with his shoulders and stomach. His eyes followed the dark trail of hair that led down to...
To Paul's arousal. His erection. Another boy's - Paul's cock. John suddenly understood why Paul hadn't moved before. It wasn't disgusting, or scary to see it. It wasn't that all of a sudden he felt like running away, or that his own arousal weakened (it was more like the opposite). It was just... strange. He knew what Paul was feeling, the warmth pooling in his underbelly and the heat in his groin - he was feeling the same. It was just that... Paul was feeling like that because of him. Everything was covered in shadows, but if it hadn't been it hadn't shocked him more. Nor had it been able to arouse him more because, even though it was fucking strange, it only made him want Paul more and more and he needed to feel him near his own body.
Paul started to shiver as neither of them were laying under the covers anymore. John half sat up, lying his hand on Paul's arm to assure him everything was fine. Everything would be okay, he was sure of it. John didn't say the words out loud but Paul seemed to have understood them anyway. He could feel Paul was tense - nerves maybe? Neither of them had done this before. He saw the younger boy take a couple of deep breaths.
Then there was contact.
They pulled the covers back over their now naked bodies, then returned to kissing, and their restless hands kept wandering over the other's body so they were holding each other in an embrace that was so tight John was pretty sure he'd end up with a couple of red scratches and bruises the day after.
There was one area they both avoided though; it was there where they both (if John was right about Paul feeling as desperate as him, but he thought he was - this was because of the moaning and whining sounds that were escaping from the younger boy, occasionally an animalistic growl in between) needed the touches most of all, the hottest area of their body and there where John thought his ability to think had moved to. He supposed that if he took the initiative, Paul would follow him, but he didn't - couldn't.
The reason why?
He was fucking scared. It was ridiculous and - yes - he did feel ashamed for it but he couldn't get himself to it. He wanted to, so bloody desperately, but something didn't let him. What was worst was that the kissing continued, as did the touching up and he feared he would have to get himself off if it went on for even a minute or so longer. They weren't grinding against each other now, as they had been when they were still clothed, because their space to move - there wasn't any, really.
When Paul moaned his name, sounding more desperate than John had ever heard someone, they both stopped their movements and gaped at each other because they both knew what Paul wanted - and that it was what John wanted as well.
Give up caring, John thought to himself, because if he only gave up caring he'd do it. It couldn't be much different than wanking himself off.
With this in the back of his mind, he touched Paul - evoking another gasp and a groan, rumbling deep in the boy's chest. He slowly moved his hand up and down, and moaned when Paul mirrored his action. John used his other hand to get Paul's face closer to his own again, so they could continue kissing. His body was starting to tremble, the first signs of his approaching orgasm, and Paul was writhing against the palm of his hand now. When he pressed his hand harder against Paul's groin, Paul shivered violently and John could feel the thick translucent white fluid seep through his fingers, dripping onto his stomach, onto Paul's hand and his own erection. It was all too much for John and he let himself go, bucking up into Paul's hand and coming as well.
Paul collapsed atop of him, his head buried in the crook of John's neck, and John wrapped his arms around Paul's back - slick with sweat and the remains John had on his hands. It felt everything but clean but he couldn't get up for the sake of his life, his entire body had gone limp and Paul's atop of him. Washing himself (or Paul? - that might be a good idea!) could be done tomorrow.
Right then he only wanted to go to sleep, and so he did, with Paul's body still covering half of his, and while it may not have been the most comfortable position to fall asleep in, this was definitely what John preferred.