Chapter Text
A soft clicking noise filled the air as John tried to ignite his useless lighter. He'd found it by the docks one day, and had mostly used it for burning small scraps of paper for fun. However, now he had a real pack of cigarettes to light, nicked from Paul's father.
“John…John, maybe we should smoke outside. They smell, right? My da…he'll smell the smoke, yeah?”
“Shut it, Paul. C'mon, it's fine. It can't stink that long. You worry too much.”
Paul went silent, choosing to just look worriedly at John. They'd been friends for a few weeks now, and John had just been convincing him to do worse and worse things, but Paul was afraid of being a square. So he just followed along with John's behavior.
The room was small and a bit chilly, if you cared to think of the temperature. The two boys were sitting on the bed as they watched the little flame appear from John's lighter, and John brought a cigarette to it. Stupidly, he didn't put it in his mouth and then light it. No, instead, he pathetically held the cigarette to the flame and tried to get it to light. When it did, John closed the lighter with a flick of his thumb, and brought his newly-lit ciggie to his lips…inhaling extremely sharply and filling his lungs with smoke. He coughed and sputtered, nearly falling over.
“John! John, Christ, are you alright?!” Paul began to frantically pat John's back, leaning over so he could see the boy's face.
“I'm good,” John wheezed, still patting his chest and coughing a bit. “Just got a little over excited.” He flashed a grin to Paul, who smiled weakly in return.
Paul made a small wave of his hand, and John passed the cigarette to him. He took a hesitant puff, trying not to have a coughing fit like John. He could still taste, just slightly, John's mouth, and he subconsciously tried to savor it. Though, he didn't really know why.
“Well, you're a man now, Macca. How's it feel?” John grinned and leaned a little closer as he teased Paul.
“Err, it's nice, I guess.”
“You guess? It sure is nice, Paulie! C'mon, live a little!” John shook Paul's shoulder, causing Paul to drop the cigarette onto the floor and instinctively stomp it out.
“Oh.”
“Sorry, John. I…well, I didn't mean to.”
John began to giggle, and it turned into a full, loud laugh. “What're you bloody sorry for? We've got the whole pack left! Christ, mate, you'll get upset over anything, huh?”
“I, uhm, maybe we shouldn't take anymore. John, my da…he'll count ‘em when he sees ‘em again,” Paul murmured, wringing his hands together.
“Fine. If you're gonna be such a wuss about it. You're such a girl, Paul.” John glared, but deep down, he understood why Paul was so afraid of his father finding out.