Archive of Our Own ^beta

That was the last straw. But only for Paul. They had both seen the article, but none of them had even mentioned it, especially John. He was used to keeping all his emotions and worries to himself, afraid to show them to anyone and show his vulnerable and defenseless side that demanded affection.

Paul began to notice that John was gradually losing weight. Not just losing weight - he was forcing himself to suffer, trying to starve. It became too noticeable: all his longing looks at food, when the other guys sat at lavish banquets (to which they were constantly invited) and ate whatever they wanted. John did not want to allow himself to do this. Sometimes he pretended that he was not hungry, although in fact he felt bad. At that moment, he began to hate his body even more that it seemed to him that he could get fat from absolutely any food. He considered it necessary to eat only a small plate of salad and something to drink. Everything would be fine, right?

But everything was not fine. He began to look even more tired. You could even say exhausted. And Paul wouldn’t be Paul if he didn’t notice that something was wrong with his best friend. He had understood this a long time ago, when John suddenly stopped eating all his favorite food and lived on coffee alone. But Paul didn’t know how to approach this correctly, especially so as not to hurt his friend’s feelings. Just talk to him? Not an option - John would probably push him away like a hedgehog, despite the fact that there were times when they were sad and cried into each other’s shoulders. Therefore, Paul thought for a long time before a small and maybe even a little stupid idea came to him.

Since John always wakes up quite late, Paul had time to quickly go to the nearest store and buy his favorite chocolate cookies - "chocolate olivers". John was crazy about chocolate in general, but these cookies were one of his favorite sweets. Paul was sure that a sweet tooth like John would not be able to refuse. Upon returning to the house, Paul found John still sleeping, looking very tired. In fact, Paul was sad to watch this. And probably George and Ringo also noticed the changes in John, they just did not dare to talk about it, because in any case they always worry about each other. It's good that the concert at Shea Stadium was their last one for now, otherwise Paul is sure that John would have simply collapsed on stage from exhaustion and hunger...

Paul did not want to disturb John and let him sleep a little more, and he himself had already had breakfast, and drank coffee, and read the newspaper out of boredom. When enough time had passed, his friend finally got up lazily and trudged to the kitchen.

- Good morning, Paul. - John said. His plans were to have just some coffee for breakfast as usual, and then see how it goes. Paul already guessed about this when John began to fiddle with the kettle.

- Aren't you hungry? I could cook you something if you want. - Paul started without even saying good morning. John didn't want Paul to show him excessive concern and care, it would simply not be beneficial for him now, it was not part of his plans. He hesitated a bit and answered uncertainly:

- No, I'm not hungry, I think coffee will be enough for me... - and as he said this, his stomach immediately betrayed him, growling loudly and making him feel ashamed. The hunger was so unbearable... Months before he would have eaten everything that caught his eye, but now he was actively fighting his inner desires. Shame-shame-shame. There was no point in making excuses. His eyes opened wide, he fell silent and immediately took a couple of sips of water to drown out this nasty feeling of hunger. Paul couldn't stand it, having witnessed this.

- My God, John, what's wrong with you? You haven't eaten anything at all lately, it's not normal... - he said, but in response to this his friend only silently looked at Paul. Even though this whole situation was starting to irritate John, he was primarily angry only at himself. Then Paul added:

- ...I bought you something. I know you like them.

John's eyes expressed complete despair, fierce irritation and a feeling that he was caught red-handed. Especially after Paul's words.

- Paul, you don't need to worry about me, okay? Forget about it. - John said sharply, frowning a little. But Paul had already taken out a whole package of cookies he had bought that morning from the kitchen cabinet.

- Look, these are your favorites. You haven't eaten anything sweet for so long, maybe you won't be so cruel to yourself? You're barely dragging yourself along because of weakness, do you think I don't notice it? And it's not just me, we're all worried about you.

On the one hand, John was pleased that Paul had bought his favorite sweets especially for him... But on the other hand, he was very angry that Paul had decided to interfere in his personal problems.

- What the heck, did you all collude or something? And nobody asked you to buy them, why did you do it? - John was displeased and angrily gesticulated right in front of Paul's face. But Paul was in a different mood. Paul carefully took John's hand, so that he wouldn't try to break free. Paul looked into his eyes, being absolutely calm and very convincing:

- John... Johnny, please. You won't be hurt if you eat a little, I promise. Take a sit and calm down. - Paul held John by the shoulders and sat him down at the kitchen table. John seemed to be calming down from Paul's gentle tone, but his thoughts were still a complete mess. Paul opened the package of cookies and put them on the table in front of John. The smell of chocolate immediately hit him in the nose. God, they looked and smelled so delicious that he would eat them all. He felt like even one piece could harm his figure, but now he was starting to melt from Paul's care. He felt incredibly miserable now. How could he allow himself to fall for this? After all, Paul decided to show concern and literally spoil him, but he wasn't his mother, right? John considered it a little shameful. But he couldn't resist...

Well, he stared at the packet of cookies for a while, lost in conflicting obsessive thoughts, then his stomach growled again, even more, and finally he decided to indulge in some. He took one and literally felt the ecstasy of his taste buds, especially after such a period without sweets and other tasty food. Paul decided to make him a coffee, occasionally sneaking glances over his shoulder at him to make sure that John was actually eating. Paul's soul blossomed and he smiled when he saw John chewing on a cookie. John closed his eyes in pleasure, chewing slowly and prolonging the pleasure. Paul made John a coffee, sat down next to him at the table, put the cup next to the cookies. John finished one cookie and just sat down, fighting the urge to take another.

- Take more if you want, this pack is all yours. Don't torture yourself. - Paul said, he seemed so persistent. John's sweet-loving nature is slowly waking up, and later he will regret it and gnaw at himself. But now with Paul he's starting to feel safe and thinks that maybe a little sweetness really won't hurt him? At least if after this he doesn't eat anything else today...
John slowly began to take his favorite cookies one by one, already halfway through the pack thinking that it was time to stop. Paul thoughtfully looked at his hands all this time, collecting his thoughts to start talking.

- Y'know, you've changed a lot. Are you... still thinking about those words from the press? - Paul knew that he might have touched a nerve in John, but he really wanted to know what his best friend was thinking. John stopped chewing, swallowed nervously and immediately wilted. Of course he thinks about it, damn it, it makes him look in the mirror and check his waist size almost every day. He wanted to just burst into tears now, but he had to restrain himself, because he didn’t want to look like a whiny girl in front of his friend. He thought that he would look weak. He was always afraid of that.

- No, of course I don’t think so. You know yourself, they write all sorts of crap so that more people will read them, right? - He said this in a trembling voice, smiling and trying to change the conversation to a more cheerful note, but he didn’t succeed. It sounded like a pathetic excuse to himself. On the one hand, he understood that a music critic from the press was not given the floor to criticize John himself, because he was only a music critic. But on the other hand, John was sitting and trying not to cry, because he remembered what broke his self-confidence in half and hurt his naturally vulnerable soul.

- You're right, but then why are you doing all this? Why are you starving? Is some dick from the press worth you torturing yourself over? - Paul looked at John and saw how he was holding on with all his might. Suddenly John just lay down with his face on the table and hid it in his hands to hide the surging emotions. Unexpectedly for Paul, he began to sob quietly.

- God, John... - Paul got up from his chair to come closer to him. He was a little scared and began to stroke his back, his hair, his shoulders, just to calm him down. - Johnny, Johnny... Shhh... - Paul hugged him from above, leaning his cheek against John's shoulder, continuing to stroke him. John was still sobbing. It was noticeable how his back was shaking a little with each sob. John felt so vulnerable now that he wanted to fall into the ground. This was his inner side, thirsty for care and affection. And yet he was glad that Paul was the one giving it. Paul was whispering in John's ear that he was beautiful and that he should forget about all these prejudices and just enjoy himself. After a while, John stopped hiding his face, wiped away the remaining tears and sat down normally. His gaze was still sad, his eyes were lowered. And Paul moved his chair close to him and sat down to be level with his face. Paul threw his arm over his friend's back, hugged him and looked into his face. He was still sniffling a little, but was calm. Paul adjusted the strands of hair on John's disheveled bangs gently and carefully, still looking at his face. Suddenly, John said quietly in a slightly hoarse voice:

— …You won’t tell anyone about all this, will you?.. — Paul didn’t quite understand what this question was about and why John was worried about it, but he thought that John would simply feel better knowing that it wouldn’t undermine his dignity in front of anyone.

— Don’t worry about anything, everything is fine. It was just between us. Now drink your coffee, I didn’t make it for you for nothing, did I?

John let out a quiet little sincere laugh, his mood lifting a little. He felt safe, knowing that Paul loved him absolutely no matter what. So he drank the coffee and finished the pack of cookies, not leaving a crumb in the package.