At some point the alcohol from Johnny's system had been burnt out by sweat and adrenaline, and he must have slept for a few hours. After the intense fucking and curling up together and napping, he was somewhat aware of Paul heading to the bathroom, but was too boneless to get up and join him. To see if he was okay. Then he remembered that the guy clearly knew how to handle himself, and reassured himself that he would be fine.
That was when Johnny passed out.
Morning dawned, casting the motel room in shades of warm golden light. Soft rays of sunshine spilled in through the cracks in the curtains. Johnny woke around ten or so. At first, when he opened his eyes, he thought there might have been a goddess next to him. That's not right, his muddled mind told him, and at length the previous night's events came filtering in through the fuzzy dregs. Smoking. Whiskey. Music. Perfect body. Pool table. Name...oh god, Paul. Johnny shifted and inhaled, turning to look upon the being called Paul.
The image was so surreal.
Rays of sunlight, hidden by the gauzey curtain but enough to give the angelic form a radiant gleam, bathed the bed like liquid gold. Pale, silken hair draped across the pillow and sparkled along the edge of the sheets, pooling across slender shoulders. The lithe body was almost perfectly still, chest barely rising and falling, creamy skin so clean and pristine it looked unearthly. Johnny imagined he was the first human to lay with an angel, but the fantasy was lost as he remembered the fact this man had to have slept around quite a bit. He supposed Paul wasn't interested in him beyond sex, and Johnny could understand that. Why would anyone be?
The boy sighed in his sleep, shifting his legs just slightly. Johnny thought that he looked lonely in the bed all by himself, long and sinuous and very pale, contrasting with the burnt umber blankets. Rounded nose, long lashes, smooth, flawless skin. Plush lips, lolling apart to reveal a slight glimmer of pinkish white. Just watching him breathe was a religious experience.
"Hey," he said tentatively, whispering. He gently moved his hand, the knuckles brushing against a flushed cheek. So soft. "Hey..."
Doe eyes fluttered open, the sun catching in the brilliant blue and sending off a wave of stunning flashes that took Johnny's breath away. It almost felt unreal to watch the beautiful being wake, slow, blinking, struggling to remember where he was and, it seemed, who he was, because the expression Paul's face was suddenly unguarded and confused. He looked like a deer in headlights. Young. Probably not that much older than Johnny himself. And scared.
"Who—What—uhm..." He turned his head to glance around the room, like he'd forgotten why he was there, who was with him. The sunlight hit him in all the right spots and Johnny just gazed, not having the coherency or the willpower to speak. The confused creature cleared his throat. "Oh...morning."
"Good morning." Johnny offered a faint smile.
Paul shifted onto his elbows, but made no move to scoot closer. He checked Johnny out, maybe unsure if he remembered who it was. He seemed alarmed, but only slightly, and then calm and normal was in its place. A smile played over his pretty lips, soft and dazed, but he gave no reply. It dropped as soon as he turned to grab a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, digging out a smoke and shoving it into his mouth. Barely looking at Johnny, and not meeting his eyes, he lit the cigarette and fell back against the pillow. Taking a deep drag and closing his eyes as if in pain, then the nicotine was let loose in a puff.
Hearing the soft, rattling breaths helped Johnny relax just a touch. Nervousness was plaguing him and his whole body was tense, unsure, feeling awkward and self-conscious. He smelled of sex, and it was kind of gross, and he desperately needed a shower, but part of him didn't want to go. When Paul looked to the side, Johnny followed his gaze, noting the time.
"Ah...My manager's expecting me to be back by noon..."
"Manager?" Johnny frowned. A couple things had clicked together, and it was possible that the hot guy he'd somehow ended up with for the night was someone well known. An actor or something. There was no reason for someone like him to be hanging out with Johnny. Unless he wanted a little piece of a nobody, someone fresh and unassuming. Which bothered him. But at the same time...what a head trip, he realized.
Paul took another deep pull, this one far more shaky and unstable. The hand holding the cigarette quivered, and he was squeezing his eyes shut like he didn't want to deal with Johnny. "Yeah..." Smoke streamed through the corners of his mouth in wispy streams, melting away, swallowed by the warm, heavy air between them. It caught in the diffused light from the curtains, glowing golden, almost. "I'm—" He sighed and breathed out, head tipping back, a tremble rocking through his lithe frame. "—working on something. So I need to be there by noon."
"Oh..." Johnny knew he shouldn't have asked the next question, but couldn't help himself. "What's your name?"
A glance from the other. "I told you. Paul."
"Paul what?"
"LaBelle."
Johnny mouthed the last name to himself. It was incredibly familiar. Even after the night they'd had, the intimacy, laying there next to him in such a plain, relaxed way, he couldn't help but worry about stupid details. It clicked after a moment of staring. Paul LaBelle, famous pop star at sixteen. As a teen he'd been caught up in the media, the idol, loved for his talent and cute face. He'd become huge but Johnny never followed those things much, and mostly considered it nonsense.
Oh. Of course, that's why he knew Paul's face. The posters and newspaper ads and little cut-outs from magazines. He still looked about sixteen now as he laid in bed, nude, lit cigarette quivering in his hand, though he had to be in his twenties by now. Lean and small and pretty. And a man.
"Paul LaBelle, huh?"
"Mmhm." Another drag. Soft lips closing over the filter again, eyes closed.
"What're you doing in bed with me?"
In response, there was a snort, with no real expression to accompany it. Lids sliding open, looking Johnny up and down slowly, taking in every detail. "Well...you were there. Seemed like a good idea." A beat. "Was pretty nice last night...didn't plan for it to go that far. Felt too nice to leave."
"I guess so." Johnny grinned a bit.
"You're younger than I'd usually go for." The thin smile was returned, though crooked and sort of silly. He sits up a little, flicking off the burning ash from the cigarette. He yawns. "But damn, did I make the right choice. Holy shit."
Johnny shifts again, to sit a little closer. "You're—you're how much older than me? About...twenty-three, right?"
"Nearly."
"You don't look much older than...than I remember seeing on TV, when I was a kid." His voice grows a little lower, suddenly. "I think you were sixteen or...something."
"Sixteen?" Another peal of laughter. Soft but deep, warm, like liquor pouring into Johnny's mind. He gazed at the beautiful creature lying next to him. A strange, foreign lust washing in and through, hot and sticky, heavy.
"...Can I have another kiss?" Johnny mumbled. He wished he hadn't. Was aware it was a bit much. And expected Paul to tell him no.
"Oh. Oh, you're cute," came the breathy laugh, and Johnny was pulled close. Kissed deeply, the taste of liquor on his lips, heady and sweet. He melted, thinking it might be nice to really know Paul. "I have to be careful, or I'm gonna want to keep you," the older man purred, almost drawing the words out and curling them around Johnny like the smoky tendrils pouring from his mouth. Johnny was ensnared, confused by his intense attraction to the man, unable to cope. He slipped his hands beneath the sheet and held on to Paul, sinking into the bed, enveloped in something exotic and strange. He wished time wouldn't move as quickly.
Their lips gently pull apart a moment later. "Here, how do you feel about getting some breakfast?"
The answer should have been obvious, but Johnny had a thought and grasped the other man's delicate hand.
"How about your number?"
Paul watched the hand around his own, pulling away and taking another drag. Still nude, looking youthful and strangely vulnerable, trapped. He turned his gaze to Johnny and looked terrified. It was only a flash, barely noticeable, and then he smiled.
"Do you know what I do?" He fiddled with the cigarette. "Who I am?"
"Yeah." Johnny swallowed. "But...why does it matter? Are you seeing someone?"
Shrugging with one shoulder, Paul's bare stomach fluttering with the movement. After a moment's consideration, he replies smoothly. "Tell you what—I've gotta head out soon, so why don't you give me yours, and we'll see."