✨ Oneshots ✨

I Me Mine - McLennon (platonic, sick)

Similar to something I suggested to @KGL1404 a long time ago, my own take on it. Not really trying to copy, I'm just doing something different. 

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1968

Paul was suddenly feeling unwell, he'd managed to get himself a cold. Unfortunately, his songwriting partner had been hanging out and had caught the same side effects.

Neither of them were in the mood to be in the same room even, though, and they kept having arguments about the smallest things.

"Johnny, please move over, you're crushing me," Paul sniffled, and he looked pale.

"Well my legs need to stretch out, y'know. You move over, Macca." 

"No, because I think.. 'Cos.. You always get your way." 

-

John sighed, but didn't necessarily move over, he actually stretched his legs further across the sofa. 

Paul crossed his arms and thought, then he got an idea. He got off the sofa for a second, and proceeded to lay on top of the older Beatle.

"Hey! What'd you do that for?" John wanted to shout, but it came out scratchy and quieter. 

"For you being stubborn! I'm teaching you a lesson, and since we're both ill, it won't affect you any more than me, would it?" The words sounded like they had some wisdom to them.

-

John begrudgingly sat upright, once he'd managed to lightly shove Paul off of him. "You're too warm, anyway." 

A smirk danced across the bassist's lips, he'd gotten exactly what he wanted. But to his dismay, that grin faded as he felt tired. This arguing was using up his energy.

They sat in the sound of silence for a bit, but John now had a blanket around himself, and honestly, Paul was jealous.

"I want the blanket too, I'm cold!" The younger man complained, not feeling as optimistic as normal.

-

Ringo, meanwhile, was coming over to check on his friends—they were supposed to be in the studio half an hour ago. "I wonder what's been keeping them? Paul didn't answer his telephone," the drummer thought as he drove up.

He knocked on the door, waiting a minute after hearing heavy footsteps come up to the front door. 

"Come in, Rings!" Paul said, out of breath as he let the drummer step inside.

"Are you all right, Paul?" The oldest questioned worriedly, noticing the sleepy looking hazel eyes.

-

"Yeah, sure.  I'm fine. Lenny, not now!" The bassist huffed as the rhythm guitarist leaned against his shoulder.

"Hey, John, he doesn't look well. Come on, now." Ringo gently interrupted, observing that Paul looked about to fall over. 

The guitarist shrugged and slowly moved away from the man. Ringo took the time to see that John didn't look well, either. 

"Let's go sit down, yeah? I'll take care of you two." 

-

"We don't— I don't need to be taken care of. I'm perfectly healthy," John tried to defend himself, but got contradicted by a raspy cough.

"And there's proof. It's the only way you'll get better." The drummer reasoned. 

"That's really nice of you, Rich.." Paul spoke quietly. 

"I don't mind, you're both looking ill." Ringo's voice matched Paul's in tenderness.

--

Both ill men sat on the sofa once more, Paul fighting for the blanket back whilst Ringo made tea. 

"Lennon, it's my blanket! You can't take it all up!" He was childishly bickering. 

"Well, McCartney, I'm just as upset as you!" The man said, clearly just lighting the inner fire even more.

Ringo sighed and walked over, taking the blanket away from both of them. 

-

"Ringo!" The songwriting duo said at the same time, looking up. 

"Sorry, lads, but it's no good for your fevers. You can't get better by overheating." 

"Since when did you become our mum?" The guitarist disagreed like a child.

Unfortunately, in his fragile emotional state from having a fever and cold, Paul started to cry. That line was too much for him. 

-

"Oh, don't cry, Paulie. He's only joking." The oldest Beatle soothed empathetically. 

Paul calmed down a bit, rubbing the tears off of his face.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me." 

"Look, I'm sorry, Paul. I don't mean that." John said nicely. 

-

"I know, I just don't feel like myself." 

To his surprise, the rhythm guitarist gave him a hug. A genuine hug.

Afterwards, John and Paul drank their tea and, with Ringo's supervision, rested for the remainder of the day.

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Word count: 710