Break Me One More Time [McLennon]

in which john is a snowstorm

     Paul woke slowly the next morning and he sighed contently. Then, he heard someone. He felt someone move behind him and he slowly looked around.

     It took all of his willpower not to yelp when he turned and saw that John was squeezed into a bed with him. John's arms were wrapped around him, holding him close, and for a moment Paul's breathing stopped.

     Then all of the events of the night before came rushing back and Paul relaxed.

     He didn't know where this was going to go or why it was meant to happen or how he was even going through with this but Paul just didn't care at the very moment. Something about all of this...it felt right. Being in John's arms, kissing him, running his hands through his hair.... It felt right, somehow.

     Paul slowly sat up and cautiously slipped out of bed, careful not to wake John. He walked across the hotel room to stand by the window and he looked out, down into the street below.

      It was odd. Paul was seventy three years old. He had been married three times, to three different women. And now here he was, kissing his best friend and sleeping in the same bed as him... His dead best friend, that is.

      He couldn't help but think of Linda again, and how he couldn't save her. He didn't want to think about how this meant that Mary and Stella and James would never be born. Linda was dead, and that meant that their children would be erased from history... And what would happen to Heather? What would become of her now that she was going to have to grow up without a mother? Paul figured she would end up with her biological father. The idea bothered him somehow.

      John groaned as he woke up, pressing the heel of his palm to his head. "I'm so hungover," he murmured.

      Paul turned and looked at him and John looked up at Paul.. Their eyes met.

      John gulped. "Did..did last night really happen?"

      "Yes," Paul nodded and couldn't help but smile.

     "Okay, okay," John nodded slowly, the gears in his head turning as he tried to figure out what his next move should be. "Right, okay... So, what happens now? Where do we go from here?"

      "I haven't got a clue," Paul said. "Honestly, this was the last thing I ever expected from you, or from me for that matter... But last night was..." Paul shook his head. "I don't think there's a word to describe it."

      "It was nice," John smiled.

      "Nice?" Paul laughed. "Nice? Kissing me was just nice?" He was grinning from ear to ear and John was laughing. "It wasn't great or amazing or the best damn thing you've ever done in your life?"

      "Okay, you're right," John nodded. "It was the best damn thing I've ever done in my life."

      Paul nodded slowly. "That's more like it," he said. What am I doing? He wondered. What could possibly come of all of this?

     "This does bring a very important matter to hand, of course," John said.

     "Oh? What's that?" Paul said, still lost in his wondering if where to go from here and how to handle this situation.

      John raised his eyebrows and gave Paul a look that told him it should be obvious. "I don't know what this is that we have blossoming between us, Paul, but whatever it is...it is very very very illegal."

      Oh. That. Paul thought. It hadn't even crossed his mind until John said it out loud because, honestly, he was still so used to the twenty first century where gay people could get married and adopt and be, overall, accepted by society. And then there was the sixties....