" Lennon, get your arse in the car. I don't bloody care if you want to go in the back with Paul." cried Brian menacingly, his nostrils flaring and his face flushed.
".But Eppy-" protested John
"NOW." he demanded. He was making a fuss because John knew where the camping site was and he certainly would not guide him if he was going to be giggling in the back seat with Paul. He didn't consider the two boys queer, having seen a fair amount of birds make their appearances in both the boys's lifes but there was something that made them almost joined by the hip and he didn't find that disconcerting at all, he just found it troublesome qhen it got in his way of working. John seeked Paul's eyes and nodded when he gave an encouraging smile in response. He got in the front seat reluctantly, grinding his teeth in frustration. Brian uttered a thank god under his breath and got in the driver's seat. Paul climbed in the back first, claiming the seat behind John's. Ringo sat beside him with a sleepy smile, cradling his camera in his lap. George was stuffing his mouth with food, leaning back and looking out the window peacefully. Brian turned on the car, rolling down his window and giving the hotel a last glance as he exited the parking lot. George fell asleep almost instantly, as he finished the last bite of his sandwich. Ringo toyed with his camera, snapping pictures of the city landscape or of the snoring George beside him. John had leant his head back, so he was at whispering's reach from Paul and he closed his eyes, avoiding motion sickness. Paul was so close to John's seat that he could swear his bony knees were digging into John's back but he knew that even this was a form of comfort for his friend. He bit on his fingernails absentmindedly,humming to himself. City landscape turned into countryside landscape and Ringo also fell asleep, his hand clutching tightly his camera. Brian was driving calmly, remembering the clear instructions and the map he'd looked at in the morning. He whistled merrily and was completely oblivious to the clammy-faced boy beside him. Paul was twirling a lock of John's hair soothingly, as he told him in hushed whispers to close his eyes and breathe calmly. John's face was pearled with sweat and he was breathing hard. Paul had placed his cool hand on John's cheek, trying to soothe him.
" You know you can always tell Brian to stop for a while so you can rest and get fresh air."
"No." John replied gruffly. Paul knew that he was defenetly trying to keep on his tough facade and he decided that arguing with his stubborn friend was useless. He contented himself with playing with his hair and murmuring soft words. He knew he'd done a great job when John's head went limp, leaning completely on the hand Paul had against his cheek as a soft snore escaped his lips. He smiled at John. His John. It felt right to call him his, it was as instinctive as their unspoken connection. He took his hand away from John's cheek, trying not to wake him as he placed a kiss on his temple. He heard a snort and he turned his attention towards his two fellow bandmates sitting beside him. Ringo's camera had fallen to the ground, next to his shoe. Ringo was leaning completely against George's ahoulder who was slumped against the window, his face almost pressed against the window glass. George's snores sounded like snorts and he snickered, George really had to quit smoking, he sounded like a motor engine when he snored. Paul sat properly, stretching his stiff legs. He stole a glance at John, making sure hewas asleep and he smiled before placing his sweater over his eyes to block out the light and falling asleep.
