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by Paul McCartney (bluesuit_macca)
at July 31st, 2008 (01:20 pm)

His hand still cupped underneath his chin and eyes dancing up at John's own glassed in ones, Paul casually broke the moment-long stare by flopping back down onto the bed beside his friend. The pot was still having it's effects - as evident by the giggles that escaped from him at odd moments - but Paul felt at once more calm in the space around him. Usually the pot would take a similar effect to the prellies he had taken back in Hamburg (although that was more brought on by the fact that everyone else was taking it and feeding off each other's energy), however this time it had made him alot more content, somewhat placent.

Paul stared up at the ceiling, his arms draped over each side of the bed. John hadn't moved yet, and Paul guessed that he was still under the influence of the acid slightly, his mind somewhere else. However, Paul couldn't deny how "there" their minds had been just moments before. He had always felt connected to John, but never in such a way that he felt a hot tinge rise from his collar as his almond-shaped eyes stared into his, begging him to come closer, to just nudge a little nearer, to - 

Christ. He looked down, catching his pants tightening ever so slightly. What was that?

Paul's conciousness began to seep back, the hazy feeling being replaced by one of shock and....need? 

It's nothing. You just haven't seen Jane in a while, that's all. You could've bagged that blonde bird hours ago.