Stop Crying Your Heart Out - McLennon AU

12.

15th April, 1963

John knew he had to apologise to Paul. The man was right, there was no shame in needing extra help, and now John was glad Paul had asked for a copy of the benefits he was entitled to.

As the two men walked out of the highschool gates and onto the street, John decided he had to break the silence, before Paul thought that John hated him.

Oh God, what if Paul already thinks I hate him? What if I'm too late?

"Paul." John asked, his head not looking up from the pram.

He was shaking inside, he'd never really been good at apologising. At the moment though, he was more embarrassed than anything.

"Yeah?" The older man could see Paul's face turn, but he was determined not to look into his eyes. Those big, brown eyes, that looked ever so worried.

Sad.

"I-I shouldn't have yelled at you." He admitted, in a tone as if he was a little boy being scolded.

"John, it's fine..." Paul said, still staring him down with those doe eyes of his.

"No, it's not..." John sighed, knowing that would be Paul's answer. He finally turned to him, trying to concentrate on anything other than his captivating eyes. "Look, do you have time for a coffee?"

"Yeah. Yeah of course I do, Johnny." He smiled. "Did you bring any money with you?"

"A little."

Paul nodded, his eyes falling down to Julian.

"He's got bigger, hasn't he?"

"Oh- Yeah. Well I mean, I've been with him every day so I'm not totally sure." He shrugged. "You think so?"

"Yeah. He's moving around a lot more too." Paul's eyes stared at the baby, the corners of his mouth tilting up in happiness. "Tryin' to focus on anything he can."

The baby stared back at Paul, a confused look in his face. John wanted to smile at the two, but his body just wouldn't let him.

They arrived at the cafe a few minutes later, taking a seat on the table. John looked through 'the baby bag', as he called it, catching the time on his watch as he did so.

"Shit. It's 3:30..." He said to himself.

"Hm?" Paul asked, stood next to the pram and tracing Julian's chest with a wide smile and his finger.

"It's 3.30... Julian needs his bottle."

"Oh."

"Do you think you could watch him, just while I go and ask for them to warm it up for him?" John asked, remembering how he didn't cry last time Paul held him.

"Yeah. Yeah of course. Do you want to get the drinks while you're up there? I'll give you some money..."

"I'll pay." John cut in.

"What? Really?"

"Yeah, I have enough money, I think." He shrugged.

Paul nodded at that. "Thanks."

John looked once more at the baby, heading to the counter to buy the drinks and warm up Julian's milk.

When the man arrived back at the table, he saw Paul, holding Julian in his arms and smiling down at him.

"Oh, you got him out I see." Paul's smile faded.

"Oh- I didn't... I'm sorry, I should have asked-"

"No, don't worry about it." John said, noticing Paul's nerves calm down a bit. The man placed the drinks down on the table, taking his seat. "He seems happy with you."

"Yeah. I think I got a smile before."

"You're a lucky bastard if you have." John joked, looking directly into the man's eyes as he held his son. "He's only smiled at me a few times."

"Uncle Paul's lucky, eh? I think your daddy's lucky he ended up with such a cute baby." He spoke to the baby, looking down to him.

The waitress came with Julian's bottle, receiving a thank you from John. Paul was too busy cooing at the child in his arms.

"Do you wanna feed him?" John asked, passing the bottle to Paul, who looked up immediately.

"Really?"

"Yeah, go on, he seems comfortable there with you. Don't wanna disturb him..."

"I- Of course I will." Paul smiled, feeling honoured. "But... I've never done it before."

"It's fine, I'll show you."

The older man stood up, moving the pram out of the way, before taking the cap off the bottle. He stood behind Paul, close.

"Okay, make sure his head's on your arm and lift up a tad, then give us your right hand." Paul did as he was told, cautiously, watching as John placed the milk in it, holding onto Paul's hand as he took it. The man moved the bottle over to Julian's mouth, both of them watched as he started drinking. "Right, now, just hold it... There. And if he spits it out, wait a few seconds then put it back in."

John could feel his hand still intwined with Paul's around the bottle, immediately pulling away when he noticed it lingering. He shook the feeling of his best mates warm hand away, taking his seat once again.

"Paul, thank you for ringin' up... And askin' for that letter. I never would have done so, we both know that... And it turns out that I'm entitled to like £70 of my normal wage, which was more than I ever expected." He just let the words role out of him, not trying to stop them. And even though he knew he'd spend all night thinking about whether he said the right thing or not, that didn't stop him. "A-And I shouldn't have said what I did about you not carin'. I know you care, Paul, I do."

"Oh Johnny, I know you didn't mean it." Paul looked at the man, who once again refused to meet his gaze. He was sensing something else was up. "Is there anythin' else?"

"Just somethin'..."

"What's that?"

He took a breath, knowing how stupid his question will sound, but he wanted to know.

"Paul, why do you care about me so much?"

Paul was caught of guard.

"W-What?" He asked, looking confused. "Why do I care?" The man repeated the question.

"Yes. It's like... Like whenever I hurt, you hurt. And then I snap at you... Just like when Stu died." He stared intensely at the table. "And I hate snapping at you, but I also hate you feeling so sorry for me. I hate it when you go all sympathetic on me. Because when that happens, I can see that it isn't just me hurting, it's you too..."

"And I hate hurting you."

"John, I hurt because you're my best friend. We grew up together... And like you said, seeing you in so much pain hurts me. And all I want to do is make you feel better somehow, to make you happy again."

John just nodded at that, feeling like he'd found his answer.