FicWad

The crème coloured walls of Paul’s newly bought Cavendish manor echoed from his continuous sneezes and coughing fits throughout the day. He figured that after spending so much time helping Cynthia nurse John, and now Julian, back to health, he would eventually catch their colds. What he did not expect was to catch them right after John’s recovery. Then again, it was flu season, and he did expect to catch one sometime soon. All of the boys did at least once or twice a year.
As he hoisted himself out of his king sized bed to grab another tissue, Paul wondered if Jane had cooked a bowl of soup for him before she left for work. Slipping his blue bathrobe over his white and navy striped pajamas, he slowly climbed down the stairs feeling quite famished. Sure enough, an inviting aroma of chicken broth and steamed vegetables made its way through the kitchen door and into the hallway. “I guess she took the day off to take care of me,” he thought. Upon reaching the door handle, he heard a thunderous crash as if a suit of armor tumbled into pieces on the kitchen tile floor.
“Shit! Bloody dishes flying ev’rywhere,” he heard a familiar voice curse out loud. More dished clattered obnoxiously as Paul creaked the door open only to find John on all fours, scrambling to pick up pot after pan, and wearing a pink polka-dot apron over his black turtleneck and khaki trousers.
“Christ, hope I didn’t wake him up. The poor git must think a fucking monkey broke in and destroyed the place,” John murmered to himself. Paul sneaked over and crouched next to the older man. He noticed his Buddy Holly glasses sprawled on the white tiles and picked them up before either of the two could snap them. John’s back remained turned away from him as he picked up the fallen dishes and placed them clumsily on the counter top.
“Hmm let’s see. Where does Jane keep these pots again?” John asked himself still unaware of Paul’s presence.
“Try the left cabinet next to the sink,” Paul said putting on John’s glasses.
“Left cabinet next to the sink. Thanks mate.”
“No problem,” Paul chuckled. John nonchalantly opened the cabinet, but suddenly turned to face his mate and dropped the pot after realizing who just spoke.
“Jesus Macca! Tryin’ to give me a heart attack are you?”
“Nope. Just trying to help you clean up the mess in here,” the younger man continued to laugh. “What are you doing in here anyway? I thought you and Cynthia were supposed to see Julian’s doctor today.”
“Mimi went with her, so I asked Jane if I could bug you while she was out.”
“Huh. Well, you’re doing a wonderful job of it.” John took a second look at Paul and removed his glasses from his face.
“Those look better on me, son,” he commented putting them back on.
“So does that pink apron you got there.”
“Why thank you, luv! It’s just something I threw together at the last minute,” John teased in a high-pitched voice waving his arm in the air. Their roaring laughter halted when Paul’s coughing fit returned. John handed him a glass of water and directed him back to his room.
“Poor, poor Paulie. Why don’t ye get back to your kip, and I’ll finish making your soup,” he coaxed.
“Alright,” Paul wheezed after taking a gulp of water. He tucked himself in bed and was sound asleep before John closed the door and returned to the kitchen humming a little tune he made up in his head.
About an hour passed until Paul woke up to the smell of freshly cooked chicken noodle soup and boiling green tea.
“Rise and shine princess Paulie! It’s grub time,” John announced still wearing the pink apron. He handed a tray containing the soup and tea to a groggy yet more relaxed Paul.
“Oh! Johnny. You didn’t have to do this, y’know,” he yawned setting the tray on his lap.
“It’s the least I could do after you helped Cyn when I was sick. Figured you’d like the company, too.” Paul took a sip of the tea.
“Thanks mate. You’re a great doctor, y’know.”
“Any time at all, son,” John grinned.
For the remainder of the day, he stayed at Paul’s bed side, told him jokes, performed various favours for him, and basically kept him company. He loved seeing Paul feel better after suffering from a whooping cough because it made him feel better knowing he was not going to be sick for long, and Paul loved it when John visited him on a sick day because it made the day pass quicker and more entertaining. Who knows? Maybe a song would come out of their not-so-bad-after-all day.
“John, I don’t know how to thank you for taking care of…ACHOO! Me,” Paul sneezed and violently coughed into his handkerchief.
“Easy son. Don’t go losing yer voice, too. You’ll need that for next week’s press conference,” John said patting his mate’s back until he finished.
“God, I wish this bloody cold would go away already. None of this medicine seems to work on me.” John’s eyes shifted left and right mischievously as his mind went to work.
“Y’know Paulie, I know a technique that’s said to have cured every type of illness.”
“You do?”
“Oh yes. It’s been passed down from generations. I’m certain you’ve heard of it.”
“Can’t say I have. What is it?” John sat up from the bed and slowly whispered in Paul’s ear.
“The art of…TICKLING!” Just as he said this, he sat on top of Paul, pinned his arms above his head, and tickled him everywhere he could reach. The younger man struggled to get away, but finally gave up and let him have his fun. Their laughter increased the more ticklish spots were found on his body, that is until they noticed Jane standing clueless at the bedroom door.
“What in God’s name is going on here?” the actress asked skeptically.
“Nothing luv. John was just, um, taking care of me,” Paul confessed pushing John off his lap purposely causing him to fall off the bed.
“I see. John, is that my apron you’re wearing?”
“Oh, this is yours isn’t it?” John chuckled untying it. “Paul told me it was his.” Paul flicked a dirty tissue at John who threw it back and returned the apron to its rightful owner.
“You boys are something else, you know that?” she sighed leaving the room. John and Paul snickered and gave each other their signature look.
“Thanks for taking care of me, Johnny,” said Paul.
“That’s Dr. John to you, son,” John winked.