Call Me Back Again

CHAPTER 12

Getting John to cook was a great idea, Paul soon discovered. He obviously didn't know where everything was, as he'd never set foot in this kitchen before, but when it came to preparing the food - a pasta dish with chicken and a creamy sauce - he really seemed to know what he was doing, because he worked as methodically as if he did this every day. The food smelt very good, too, so Paul congratulated himself on the brilliant brainfart that had resulted in this promising meal. He couldn't wait to dig in...

Thankfully, the dish which had been given the name 'Pasta Giovannese' was turning out well. It wasn't a previously existing recipe, as far as John knew. Ringo had invented it for him when he explained the situation. Basically, it was so easy to make any halfwit could get it right whilst still giving the impression of actually having created something substantial, which was just about exactly what John had hoped for. The only problem was that he'd spent the whole week practising, and he'd grown sick and tired of the dish by now. Still, none of his Guinea pigs (aka George, but he ate everything he could get his hands on anyway) had experienced any unwanted side effects, and Paul was practically salivating as he helped by finding John the things he needed and by handing the ingredients when it was time to add them, so he was happy to pretend he hadn't had it in ages.

Eventually, his job was done and it was up to John to finish cooking now, which gave Paul the chance to feast his eyes. John's hair had dried up curler than he'd seen it so far, and the focused expression really suited him. It made him look older but in a good way. Not that Paul had never been with anyone older than him before... If anything, that was why he hadn't made a move on John yet. Even after the better part of four years, and many therapy sessions, he was still afraid to get caught in another Rory situation.

Paul swallowed hard, trying to force those memories back into their cave. He knew he'd have to talk about it someday - and probably sooner than later - but he didn't want to ruin the mood with talk of emotional abuse and psychological manipulation. Who'd want to hear about that, or how it made him so depressed he'd allowed himself to gain all that weight, or how that had only made things worse? Paul would bet John had never been fat. He looked really good, in a natural way. Not from the gym, like him, but just effortlessly healthy. Not too skinny and definitely not fat. Paul had loved the way John's body felt in his arms when they danced, and he imagined it'd feel even better to cuddle up against that comfortable chest if ever they'd sleep together.

"Earth to Paul. Come in, Paul." For the past twenty seconds or so, John had been watching Paul's face as he stared into space. There was something dark in there, a level of emotion John hadn't noticed before. He wondered what it was all about, and whether he'd ever learn what those troubling thoughts were. Perhaps he'd have to just ask sometime soon. Perhaps it'd give him the chance to talk about the things he had on his mind as well. For now, though, dinner was ready. "We better eat this shite before it gets cold, right?"

The sound of John's voice abruptly tore Paul out of his depressing train of thought, and into a more cheerful state of mind. How could he not, when his name was pronounced like that? Besides, the inviting expression on John's face and the way his lips curled up were more than enough to banish those ghouls to the deepest dungeons of Paul's mind, where they belonged. Returning the happy smile that was directed at him, Paul sat down in his normal spot whilst John took Mike's. "Smells great, John."

The first bite he took was, to Paul anyway, the good kind of shocking. He'd had his share of meals that looked and smelt great, but ended up not tasting good at all. This wasn't one of those times. This was bloody brilliant, so he forgot his table manners and just dug in, his intentions of leaving some room for pigging out during the films long since forgotten.

After a few minutes in which the silence was only broken by sounds of cutlery on plates and Carl Perkins' 'Sure To Fall' - during which John's lecherous looks had made Paul blush like a schoolgirl - he remembered he'd been meaning to take the piss out of John about something. Paul reckoned it'd be perfect timing, what with John making him feel so embarrassed and all that.