How to Change the World

Chapter 5

The following nights were spent in agony. It wasn't like Paul was being tortured, but it was agony to be in that house. Aside from the fact that Cynthia didn't approve of his "personal life", it was even harder to be around John. Just the fact that he knew John wanted him just as much, but couldn't do anything, made him cry out in his head. A couple nights he would come in and steal a few kisses, each one feeling new and fresh. It was a miracle someone didn't walk in on them.

Really, though, what was interesting was the developments back at his home. The police had finally decided to step in, at least stopping people from trying to enter his house. What was even more interesting, however, was the rebuttal that came. All of sudden there were a few fans who came to the scene to... protest the protesters.

It was as if war broke out between the two groups, one calling the other "Bigots!", and another screaming "Queers!" It was... reassuring. Sure, his house was basically a warzone, but it was comforting to know that some people cared. It was more than he expected. Some bloke contacted John for a TV interview with David Frost. Supposedly unrelated to the events, but there was no avoiding it.

Hopefully in a few days the people would leave his house, so he could at least try to live normally.

There he was, sitting on the couch watching some talk show about... who knows what. Cynthia had gone out shopping for groceries with Julian, and John said he had to run a few "errands". He was there for hours at the house, trying to keep himself busy, alone. He played around with a guitar lying around; it kept him entertained for a while before John came in.

He walked in with what seemed to be... clothes, dropping them on the table.

"Hey there, mate. Playin around with me guitar?"

"Yep."

John went over to the couch where Paul was absent mindedly strumming the guitar.

"Playin' anything good?" John said as he basically threw himself on the furniture.

"Nope, just random chords."

"So, how you doin', luv?"

Paul shrugged, returning to the guitar. It did seem as though he was forming a song.

"You seem down. You sure you're okay?"

Paul wasn't okay... he hasn't been okay. This whole thing has come crashing down on him, but he just willed through it. He had forgotten what okay even meant.

"It's fine, I'm fine," Paul looked down at the guitar, unable to meet John's eyes.

"Hey," John began to move his figure over to Paul. He placed his hand on one cheek, letting It caress the smooth skin under it. "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm right here."

Paul nodded as John's hands brought them closer. Gently, a kiss began to form, Paul's hands griping tightly on the guitar. His heart began to form a rapid pace, his mind unable to form any coherent thoughts. All there was in this moment was John and Paul. He wanted to... he wanted to give John the world. If only he could give him his everything, if only he could give him as much happiness as John gave him. Their lips connected in a sweet melody, the guitar placed softly to the side. One man's body was atop of each other, fulfilling the puzzle piece they were meant to complete.

John broke away for a moment to look into Paul's eyes. The other man surveyed his face as his thoughts became wild. He loved John, he loved him so much. But John probably didn't love him back. It was just a fling, it wasn't a serious affair.

Paul's hands gripped onto John's waist, pulling him down once more. Their lips danced together a second time, hands sliding in all directions.

Then a sound came, as if someone were trying to unlock the door. Immediately John jumped off the couch, making his way over to the front door of the house. Another moment broken.