His Majesty (Slide Away)

19.

(A/N- Final chapter before the wedding!

Also there's gonna be a few time skips after the wedding ☺️)

The lights were incredibly bright, and John could feel them messing with his head. He'd only opened his eyes for a second, yet his head was throbbing in complete agony. He couldn't even open them for long enough to study his surroundings.

"Urghh..." He groaned, pulling the covers over his head.

Well, attempting too at least. There was a weight that was keeping the sheets down, and so he couldn't move them. That intrigued him, and so trying to forget about the hammer bashing into his skull, he opened his eyes.

There, next to him, lay Paul McCartney. He had a little smirk on his lips, a mischievous grin. On the table next to the bed, there was a bowl of water, and in Paul's hand was a flannel.

"You can close your eyes if you wish, Johnny." Paul spoke, those beautiful peachy lips smiling as he did so. John felt his heart flutter at the sweet nickname. "It would probably feel better..."

John had no idea how he'd ended up in Paul's bed. All he remembered really was being in the car with Ringo, and then queuing up for a bar. His memories from anything after that were rather cloudy. Ringo would probably remember, he could cold his alcohol a little better than John.

However one question that Ringo would almost definitely not be able to provide him with the answer to was how John ended up... Here. The Prince really hoped he hadn't done anything stupid with Paul, or somehow managed to lure the Omega into bed with him. He wasn't ever sure how he acted when he was drunk, he just could never remember. For all he knew, he could have been terribly nasty to Paul-

"You were rather drunk last night..." The Omega spoke, gently. John just hummed, wincing as he felt the wet towel pressed against his head. Paul had the actions of an Omega, the gentleness of his hands and the soothing voice. But it didn't make him any less of a man than John. "It's alright, Johnny... It is just some water for your headache."

"Thank you..." He spoke, blankly.

The two stayed in silence for a few seconds, John adoring Paul's gentle touch against his skin. But there was still an itch at the back of his mind, and he couldn't let himself fully give into the warm feeling because of it. He was still worrying drastically about how he had acted. The solution to his problem would of course be to ask Paul, but he just couldn't. A part of him wasn't so sure that he wanted an answer.

"How... How did I get here, Macca?" John asked, giving into the itch.

"Well... I was up all night, I couldn't sleep. My mind was racing with such dreadful thoughts. At around one in the morning, I heard you stumble through the door. When I checked to see if you were okay, you could barely stand up." Paul chuckled. If he was laughing, then surely John had not been as cruel as he had dreaded. "You then made an attempt to get even more drink, to which I stepped in and... And I suggested you go to bed." He hesitantly laughed.

"So...?"

"So then you said you didn't want to be alone, and I agreed. And I allowed you to sleep in here." Paul explained. "You were quite funny, actually."

"Was I?" He asked, wanting to know more.

"Yes, indeed." He laughed. "You were a joy."

A streak of relief fell through his body, and then he cursed himself for thinking he would ever act so dreadful towards Paul.

"You said that you couldn't sleep?" John asked, rather conserved at his past statement.

"Yeah..." The towel slowly fell from his forehead, and there was a little humming noise in agreement. John opened his eyes, confused. "I- I had wanted to ask you something last night..."