Title: "I'm Only Sleeping"

By: Melody (iammeanttolive)

Warning: Some swearing (seckzual content in future chapters)

Rating: PG-13 for now. Will be R later on.

Pairing: John/Paul

Time period: Late 65

POV: Starts out with John, but switches back and forth between John and Paul.

Disclaimer: I don't own, otherwise this would be true. Even if it is true, I still don't own them.

A/N: This is unbeta'd. Any mistakes are all my fault. Also, I know this is not in the correct section, but this is the closest thing to The Beatles.

He hated being famous. He hated all the girls. He despised what he had become. More like what I've always been.

"A sorry soul you are, John Lennon." He told his reflection in the puddle. He stomped his foot in the reflection's face, and watched the water as it rose into the air and then came in contact with the ground.

With his shoulders slouched and his head down, he continued to walk down the cobblestone alley-way. It was rather dreary and grey, and there was no sign of any sun. Such a lovely day. He listened to his foot steps, echoing off the narrow walls, and he started to hum a song. It wasn't anything in particular, just a tune that had come about in his head over the past few days. Maybe he would put lyrics to it sometime soon. Sometime when I can sit down without bloody noise all around me. He scoffed.

Paying no attention to his surroundings, he turned a corner and continued his walk to nowhere land. All John yearned for right now was some peace. Unfortunately, this was all interrupted when he heard a shrill scream. Thinking something exciting was happening, he lifted his head to find out. Damn it to hell! It was a girl. No, it was a herd of girls and they were all staring at him, mouths gaping open. Not all at once, now. I only have one dick. However, he didn't stop walking; the girls were obviously not going to move.

Or so he thought. After a few mere seconds of their staring in utter disbelief, they all began to sprint towards him.

"Oh Christ." John muttered as he began to run.

The rain that started to fall didn't stop the teenage girls and John was getting soaked. His original plan was to look for a genius place to hide, but now he just longed for the hotel. He had to have been running for ten minutes already. I need a cigarette. As he reached for them in his pocket, gravity had its way and caused him to almost drop his pack, trip over his own foot, and nearly fall on his face. Luckily the fear of getting molested caused his reaction time to speed up and he swiftly got back on his feet. Perhaps that can wait. John picked up the pace, but without ease. His breathing was shallow and his chest had that horrible burning sensation. They have to stop eventually. John frowned and took off his jacket. He apologized for what he was about to do and snuck a look behind him. It's worth a try.

He threw his suit jacket behind him, and looked over his shoulder. The girls were practically clawing at each other over it. If they really knew me, they'd burn it instead.

The hotel soon came into view and John wanted to get down on his knees and worship it. What he once considered an undesirable place to be now seemed incredibly inviting.

Water dripping from his head, and pools of water coming out of his boots were only two of the many problems John was facing.

Epstein didn't look to pleased either. "Where have you been, John?" Brian asked in irritation and with a hint of worry. "We have an interview to go to!" He led John into the lobby where George, Ringo, and Paul were chatting.

There he goes with his touchy feely shit. John pushed Brian off of him in frustration, and continued to force his feet to move. I need something normal. Not these god damn interviews. "S'ppose we could just skip the interview?" John made sure to skip in order to emphasize the word.

Paul sighed. "Oh, come off it John. Don't go trying to ruin this just because you're lazy."

"Aye. Don't bring things down to your own level. It's immature, son." Ringo added with a snarky grin.

George simply sat there smoking a ciggie.

John looked at Ringo. "You think you're real clever, don't you?" He then turned to face Paul, and a scoff escaped his chapped lips."You weren't being chased by evil little girls, lad." John crossed his arms and sat down next to George.

George looked back and forth between John and Paul. "You two in some type of lover's quarrel? This could be a rather nice touch to the interview."

Ringo snickered and poured himself some freshly made tea.

"You're asking for it Harrison." Paul sneered.

"Quit it! All of you!" Brian interrupted. "Stop acting like boys and quit your arguing!"

"I thought it was funny." George shrugged and lit another fag.

Stop acting like boys, eh? John got up and started to walk out of the room. "I'll go clean myself up a bit then." He said while looking at the other 'boys'. When his eyes landed on Paul's, they seemed to lock onto his. Paul appeared to be quite tense and his eyes seemed glazed over. John didn't understand why he was mad or the reason for his bad mood, but Paul did a good job at covering it up. Such an angel face. John heaved a sigh and continued to his room.

The bath water made John feel as if he was going to melt. After being out in the cold, it's incredible what being submerged into warm water can do. Maybe if I pretend I'm somewhere else… John vocalized that familiar tune as he shut he dark eyes. The darkness that accompanied him was welcoming. He need not worry about the outside world with his eyes closed. Just a few winks…

John let sleep overcome him.

I don't understand why I must always check on John. I'm not his mother. Paul wasn't a woman either. If he needs such care, maybe we should get him a nanny. That was something to think about. Paul chuckled at this clever idea and decided to look into the idea later.

Paul wasn't necessarily sure why he was angry with John. He's lazy. Was John really that lazy? No. He argued with himself as he made his way to John's room. Maybe the reason Paul was angry is due to the fact that John is. Their emotions went hand-in-hand sometimes. More than sometimes. Most of the time…s. 'Oh, you're unhappy Paul? Well, so am I!' John's been angry a lot lately. So have I. It actually made sense. Paul didn't like it though. He knew the reason he felt this way, he knew the reason why he always volunteered to keep up with John, he knew why he was the only one who could teach John, he knew that- Well, you can stop there McCartney. No need to say things that you certainly do not mean.

Once he made it to John's room, he made sure that his presence was noticed. Paul cleverly did this by slamming the door closed, and bombarding John's room- of course. Does he ever clean? Paul rolled his eyes at all the junk scattered everywhere.

He let out an exasperated breath and called John's name. And called John's name. And called…John's. Name.

For the love of God! Since John obviously didn't feel like saying anything, Paul began to search the hotel room. Being that this hotel was especially pricey, the rooms just needed to have rooms that consisted of rooms. Or something like that. He checked the lounging area first, it only seemed logical. This part had a miniature kitchen. We all know how John is. John wasn't there. Perhaps the bedroom then. No. What else is there? He went back to the lounge and looked it over. The bathroom. Why didn't I think of going there first? Stupid git probably got stuck.

Paul gracefully dodged all the items on the floor and made his way toward the restroom. Because he is such a gentleman, Paul lightly tapped the door. Nothing. Then he knocked. Nothing. All patience gone, Paul slammed a fist on the door. Ow. The sound of splashing and some drowsy explicative came from behind the door.

"Get out of the bath you lazy bastard!" Paul made sure to say it in the nicest way possible.

"What say ye?" A refined British accent answered.

Paul would have laughed, but his bad mood had taken over his sense of humor. Instead, this remark only made him angrier and he could almost feel his head about to burst. "You heard me! Stop being…so…so…f –"

The opening of the door, and the half-naked John took Paul by surprised. Paul closed his still opened mouth and looked John up and down. He didn't know if it was the wet hair sticking to his face, the smile that was threatening to replace John's nonchalant appearance or the unusual pose he had himself in that affected him the most. Thankfully he was angry, otherwise his flushed face would need to be hidden immediately. Paul, what is wrong with you? You act like you're a queer or something.

As expected, John's face broke out into a cheeky smile. "Don't take it all in at once, mate. You know what happened last time someone tried. It wasn't pretty my friend." He pushed past Paul and went to retrieve clothing for the day's special event.

Far more aggravated than before, Paul spat a 'witty' remark back. "No problem for me, lad. I find it a bit hard to just look at your face." Paul smiled to himself inside his head. Good one, McCartney.

As John put on his undershirt he looked over at Paul. "Macca, what's wrong babe? You seem a bit tense. Perhaps you should leave, hm?" At first he spoke jokingly, but John's statement ended quite bitter.

"Sod off John!" Paul rolled his eyes. "Just cause you can't handle your pitiful life doesn't mean you need to bring others into it." He knew this would make John angry, and Paul knew he'd feel guilty later on. Trying to stay cool, Paul crossed his arms and shot a convincing glare at John. He felt a bit childish, but he didn't care at the moment.

Now John was furious. Once he put his shoes on, John walked over to Paul in ever-so-slow pace. "Don't" He leveled his face with Paul's. "you" He moved closer. "fucking" Closer. "act" At this point John made sure his face was as close to Paul's as possible. "like you know what you're talking about." John clutched Paul's slim shoulder and gave him a forceful shove.

"Maybe if you would quit acting like a bird. All you do is fucking mope around and such. Look at yourself, John!" You look drained, lo-John.

Suddenly John's anger faded and returned to his previously exhausted state. Why must he be so moody?

"I'm just tired. S'all it is." John looked away and headed for the door. He stopped as he grabbed the knob and turned to face Paul. "You coming or you gonna stand there all bloody day?"

Paul pretended to think about it. "Well, actually…"

John shrugged.

"I'm coming. I'm coming." Paul grinned smugly.

John proceeded to open the door for Paul. "Ladies first." He motioned with his hand.

Paul glared at him. "Not in the least bit funny."

John replied with a genuine smile.

There's my John. My John? Paul sighed and walked with John down the ornate hallway. As they entered the elevator, Paul mocked John what John had done to him at the door.

"Why thank you, kind sir." John said in a girly, sing-song manner.

My John.

I can never stay angry with him. It was amazing to John. He didn't fancy the strange feeling he had for Paul. More importantly, he didn't fucking understand it. Hell If I know what this is. This is what bothered him the most. John always wanted to make sure people thought that he was confident. He couldn't do this when he started to become confused. Plus, his façade always, always, failed with Paul. I hate Paul for knowing me. So well. No, he didn't actually hate Paul; he just liked to think that he did. It helped in making him feel better, to reassure his superiority.

"You alright, son?" Paul's innocent eyes met with his. "You keep clenching your fists."

He looked down at his hands to find his knuckles white from squeezing so tightly. "Oh. I'm alright. S'nothing."

When they got to the lobby, Brian was talking with someone who looked important and Ringo and George were in a laughing fit. They looked a little strange, in John's opinion.

George rid his eyes of his tears and looked at John and Paul. "Did you two make up?"

Ringo joined in. "I think so. Paul looks a bit flushed, Georgie."

More laughs.

John quickly went over to the two Beatles in hysterics. "D'you guys light a joint without us?" It was an extremely dumb question. Their red eyes were enough to prove their impaired state.

Paul joined the three after standing awkwardly by himself. "That's not fair!" He pouted after overhearing what they were chatting about. He shot a quick glance at John who seemed to be doing the same. John winked at him and looked back at his two friends.

"Laugh it up, guys. Next time me and Paulie here won't share."

Ringo punched John's arm playfully. "We'll be glad to not interrupt you two blokes."

"Shut it!" Paul spat.

John looked back at Paul. "Cheer up, Paul. We have an interview to do."

George and Ringo continued with their random banter and giggles, completely ignoring anything that wasn't revolved around them.

"I'm holding you to that."

John's droopy eyes blinked slowly. "Of course."

"Come on boys!" Epstein motioned to the car waiting for them.

Off to another piss poor interview.