Chapter Text
During the Sehnsucht tours, the guys had always shared hotel rooms. Hell, it had been like that since the beginning. Their first few tours, they'd either sleep in their tiny ass van or all together in one hotel room. It was either nice to not be alone or annoying as hell to never have any personal space. But these days, they all had their own hotel rooms. It was the first time they'd all ever done that. It was both strange and relieving to Richard, but he felt lonely a lot of the time.
Richard had gotten absolutely zero sleep on the bus the night before. He'd tried after that awkward conversation with Till and Flake. He'd went to his bunk, tucked in and closed his eyes, but he'd tossed and turned until he felt the bus stop moving.
As soon as he'd gotten to his room, he kicked off his boots and flopped on the bed, audibly groaning into the blanket.
Paul hadn't said a word to him after their show last night, or downstairs when they were checking in. He spoke to their driver all night though, and sat up in the passenger seat until Richard had decided to go to bed (or tried to).
What were they talking about? He'd hoped it wasn't about them, or anything even remotely similar.
Richard turned his head away from the fabric so he could breathe and drew in a long breath. He rubbed his hand down his tired face and forced himself up to get undressed. He hated sleeping with clothes on.
He shut all the curtains in the room and flipped back the covers on the bed. The cool sheet felt good on his exposed skin. The blankets smelled fresh too, which was always a bonus. Rolling onto his side and wrapping the soft covers around him, sleep found Richard before Richard could fight it.
The sound of knuckles knocking on his hotel room door was what woke him up a short few hours later. Richard rolled slowly onto his back, having not moved at all since he'd passed out. He instantly felt how sore and stiff his neck and shoulders were.
The knocking came again, three taps every time, echoing throughout the hotel room. Richard threw his arm over his eyes and groaned.
"I'm coming," he managed, the words slurred with sleep.
He pushed himself up and shoved the covers off, rolling his head to stretch his neck. He rubbed the nape of it as he padded his way to the door. He fumbled with the deadbolt and chain lock and practically whipped the door open.
"What the fuck do you wa- oh."
It was Paul, holding two plastic shopping bags in one hand.
Paul let out a low whistle of approval at the sight of Richard's naked body.
"Well, that's lovely to see first thing," he smirked.
Richard felt heat reach his cheeks. "Sorry. I didn't realize it was you."
Paul smiled. "You gonna let me in, or would you like to continue flashing everybody in the hallway?"
Richard, fully coming into the awake world, realized he was still fully nude. He didn't mind much if people saw, but they were in America, and he found out the hard way from answering his door naked at his apartment in New York that Americans were extremely prude. He stepped back and opened the door wider, half hiding his lower body behind it.
"There's nobody even out here," Richard mumbled, waving him in.
He watched Paul saunter in, immediately lifting the mood in this dingy, beige hotel room by simply exisiting in it; like the sun shining in... He set down his shopping bags on the bed and looked around.
"Take a shower and get dressed. We're going out," Paul happily informed him.
"Oh?" Richard asked, continuing to rub at his sore neck.
Paul nodded. "Yep. Make it quick."
"Well shit," Richard replied, sort of surprised. "Okay."
Gathering clothes and his bathroom bag from his suitcase, Richard took a nice, hot shower, letting the heat soothe his sore muscles. He decided shaving was too much work so his shower didn't take too long.
He cracked the door open after to let the steam out and wiped the mirror with a small towel. He started to brush his teeth when he noticed Paul leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed loosley.
"Damn," he said, sounding disappointed. "You have a towel on."
Richard glanced down at the towel around his waist and grinned. He spit and rinsed his mouth then teased, "Pervert."
Paul huffed a laugh through his nose. "You would be too, if you got to look at you."
Richard squeezed hair gel onto his palms and rubbed them together. "What does that even mean, Paul," he asked flatly.
Paul shook his head. "Oh, Reesh. So pretty, yet so naive."
Richard shot Paul a glance through the mirror, seeing the shit-eating grin grow across his fellow guitarist's face.
"Hey," Richard defended, pushing and pulling his short black hair so that it spiked out the way he liked it. "I'm not naive."
"Hmm," Paul grinned. "Whatever you say, pretty boy."
Richard shook his head, checking his hair in the mirror.
"Jerk," was what he'd replied, but the stupid smile on his face said something completely different.