Ain't He Sweet - McLennon and Starrison One Shots

Sick Day

1965

"John? Where are you?" Paul searched the hotel room with a worried look on his face. "He couldn't have left, could he?"

"I saw him go into the bathroom," George spoke up. He had his head in Ringo's lap.

"Really?"

"Yeah, but that was a while ago." He stroked his boyfriend's hair.

"How long?" Paul asked hesitantly.

"I'm not sure." Ringo suddenly shot up, sending George to the floor. "An hour and a half!" He pointed at the clock. "Sorry, Geo!"

"I'm fine," he grunted. "It's easy to lose track of time when you're so caught up in me."

"That's not good!" He knocked on the door, receiving only a groan in response. "John, I'm coming in!" He threw the door open without waiting for an answer.

"Hey, Paulie." John weakly lifted his head up from the toilet, revealing a face pale as ivory. "Nice to see you."

"John, you look awful!"

"Thanks." He flushed the toilet, then raised an eyebrow as he was picked up. "What are you doing? You're not strong enough to carry me."

"Shut up." Paul finally managed to put him in bed, breathing heavily.

"You have the body of a little girl."

"Hey! And stop laughing!" George and Ringo kept snickering to themselves.

"I'm cold," John whispered.

"Oh, no!" Paul felt his forehead. "You're burning up! Do you want some water?"

"No."

"Johnny." He crawled into bed with him, holding him close. "Still cold?"

"A little," he admitted.

"Come here." He turned to face him.

"I don't want to get you sick," he murmured as their faces grew closer.

"I don't care." Paul kissed him, pulling him even closer. "Love you so much," he whispered against his lips.

"Mmm." John let out a soft sigh, falling asleep with him.

"So cute!" Ringo squealed.

"He's gonna be whining tomorrow about how he caught his cold."

"Whatever."