The White Room - 2/3-5

Title: The White Room – 2/3-5?
Pairing: John/Paul
Author: sgtpepperrigby
Rating: NC-17 overall
John and Paul sneak away from an interview and find themselves trapped in a mysterious white room.
Swearing, Sexual Situations, Alcohol
 I don’t own the Beatles, and I definitely don’t claim to. The Beatles would kill me if I actually owned them. So don’t worry, this is all made up, I promise.
A/N; Yes I was listening to Cream when I came up with this title. Oh, and find the David Bowie reference.

  “What the fuck are we going to do know?” John asked, pacing desperately around the room.

  “I guess we should just sit and wait,” Paul replied, trying to make the best of the situation. He was lying on the soft floor, looking up at John as he spoke to him.

  “Stop being so optimistic,” John said, obviously annoyed at the younger lad lying on the floor beside him.

  “I’m not being dramatic, I just think you need to calm the fuck down.”

  “Oh, okay. Says the one lying on the floor and wasting his time away.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Paul asked, suddenly sitting up and glaring at John.

  John chuckled. “It means you’re a dramatic little whore, Paulie-Paul.”

  “Fuck you!” Paul joked, shoving John’s leg.

  “No, fuck you.” John sat down beside Paul, letting himself be free and spreading himself across the floor. His head hit the floor harshly as he sat down, but John didn’t mind. Something about being with Paul made his mind hurt less.

  “What do you wanna do, Paulie?” John asked after a few minutes of silence had passed.

  “I dunno…” Paul replied, closing his eyes and thinking. “We can’t just wait around here forever, right?”

  “Well, it’s been a while, we should wait it out, right?”

  Paul opened his eyes and looked at John, smiling. “Look at you, being all philosophical.”

  “Philosophical? What’s that mean?” John joked in a childlike voice, making Paul laugh and gaze up at the ceiling.

  “What do you wanna do?” Paul said, suddenly sitting up.

  “I dunno…” John trailed off, but then he seemed like he remembered something and reached in his coat pocket.

  “Just remembered I had this,” he said, pulling out a flask of vodka and taking a sip, then handing it to Paul.

  “Ta,” Paul thanked John, grabbing the flask and taking a sip as well, passing it back to John.

  “Watch out, Paulie, you drink too much of that stuff and you’ll be running around without your shirt on in a few minutes!” John mocked in a girl’s voice, taking another sip from the flask.

  “How d’you know I’m not already that rowdy?” Paul mocked back in a girl’s voice, slowly unbuttoning his shirt dramatically and flailing it around his head.

  “You know you get me real hot and dirty when you’re like that, Paulie,” John said, sinking his eyebrows in such a sexy manner that Paul felt his stomach go to butterflies. But of course, John was just kidding.

  “You want me to put on a show for ya, big boy?” Paul asked, taking a sip from the flask, his shirt still off and thrown across the floor.

  “You bet,” John said, sitting back like a pimp, taking a sip from the flask and watching Paul as he stood up.

  Paul walked in front of John, doing a mock-stripper dance, bending over and gliding back up, John laughing the entire time. But it wasn’t quite funny when John noticed something growing in his pants, and he fought to cover it up while Paul continued pretending to be a stripper for him.

  “Paul, stop,” John said, covering his erection by pulling down his shirt.

  “John, I’m only dancing,” Paul sang out in a girly tone, still dancing like a stripper before stopping when he realized John was serious.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, crawling over toward John, who was downing more vodka.

  “Nothing, it was just I never knew you were quite that feminine.”

  “I am the ‘gay Beatle,’ eh?” Paul laughed.

  John let out a weak laugh in return. “With those long lashes and those perfectly plucked eyebrows, how couldn’t ya be?”

  “Ey!” Paul defended. “My eyebrows are not plucked.”

  “That’s a load of bullshit.”

  “No, it’s not! I do not pluck them… these are natural beauties, believe it or not.”

  “It’s unnatural for a lad to have lashes so long, and eyebrows so feminine. That’s why the female fans like me better.”

  “Now that’s a load of bullshit!”

  “Oh, sorry. They like you more because they can relate to you better.”

  Paul scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means,” John cleared his throat. “You’re as queer as a diamond-studded rainbow.”

  “You’re kidding me,” Paul laughed. “You were the one who went on that holiday with Eppy…”

  John glared at Paul. “Now what the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

  Paul was now sitting directly across from John, only feet between them. “Things… may or may not have happened between you two during that trip,” Paul said, trailing off and smiling to no one. He was quite enjoying himself.

  “There is one thing I’m certain of, and that’s that I’m not a bloody poofer.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ve seen the way you look at him…”

  “Who, Eppy?”

  “Of course, Brian, who else? You’re always lookin’ into his eyes and bein’ extra polite to him. It’s adorable, really…”


  Oh, shit. “Yes, adorable… as in, your love for him is adorable…” Now that definitely came out wrong.

  “Well here, Macca, guess my ‘queer love’ for Eppy isn’t the only queer love we got goin’ on.”

  “I’m not queer, John. That just came out wrong.”

  “Uh huh, uh huh, alright…” John trailed off, smiling and obviously pleased with himself.

  “John, I’m not a poofer, I swear!”

  “Stop fuckin’ lying about it!”

  “I’m not, I’m really not…”

  “Then why are you trying so hard to defend it?”

  Paul swallowed his spit. There was an awkward silence between the two of them, but then John spoke in a hushed tone.

  “Paul, stop trying to defend yourself. I don’t have anything against queers, I wouldn’t mind it one bit.”

  “Yes, but I’m not queer!” Paul shouted back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about or why you keep bringing this up! None of us are queer, okay?”

  “Alright, none of us are queer. But liking someone of the same gender does make you slightly queer, Paulie…”

  “I don’t like you, John, alright? We’re best mates, come on! Nothing more than friends, honest.”

  “I think you’re lying straight through your teeth.”

  “Oh, and you’re not queer? I saw the bloody boner you got when I was dancing.”

  John’s heart stopped for a moment. “What?”

  “Trying to cover it up, real clever. Like we haven’t all done that one before.”

  “I was imagining you as a pretty bird, actually-“

  “Shut up and kiss me.”


  “Shut up and kiss me.”

Carnival of Light (one-shot)

Title: Carnival of Light (one-shot)

Author: Sgtpepperrigby

Pairing: Ringo/George, implied John/PaulD

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Sexual situations

Summary: 3,078

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Beatles or any other actual people represented in this story, nor do I claim to.

Notes: I know a lot of things in this story don’t have to do with the plot, but it was fun writing it. I hope you all enjoyed it. Comments are love (:



  “Come on, George, we’re gonna be late!”

  “I know, gimme a minute!”

  Ringo sighed but laughed. “Alright, well hurry up!”

  It was nearly an hour until Mr. Kite’s circus began, and the show itself was about forty minutes away. The two of them certainly didn’t want to be late, as they were Beatles, and they would probably have to sign autographs before the show, eating up some of their time. George was taking absolutely forever to get ready, although Ringo had been ready for a good ten minutes or so.

  “How long does it take for a man to get ready?” Ringo laughed. “Especially for the bloody circus?”

  “A damn long time!” George yelled back through the closed bathroom door. He was a man for crying out loud, so there was nothing that he could possibly be doing that could take him that long. It wasn’t like he was putting on makeup or anything.


  “I said gimme a minute, alright?”

  “George, I’m coming in!”

  “No, don’t!-”

  But it was too late. Ringo had walked in on George doing… well, what men do when they’re given time to themselves.

  “Shit!” Ringo cried, closing the door and trying to block what he had just seen out of his mind. George had been bloody wanking, and it was an absolutely terrifying thought. He sat there patiently waiting for George to… er, well… finish, not knowing what to do.

  Eventually, George rushed out of the bathroom, a distracted look on his face as he walked out the door. Ringo was confused as to why George was so upset, especially since he had been the one who’d walked in on the man doing the dirty deed by himself. It wasn’t like he had walked in on George with someone other than Pattie or something of that nature.

  They walked to the Ringo’s car, George speed-walking ahead of the shorter man following closely at his heels. Both men had absolutely no idea what to do, and so when their car doors closed behind them, they sat there in silence until Ringo eventually picked up his keys and started the car.

  “Chilly, isn’t it?” Ringo smiled, forcing smalltalk as they began driving towards the circus, which was several towns over.

  “Yeah,” George replied, fiddling with his fingers nervously and trying not to make eye contact with the drummer next to him.

  “Wonder if it’ll be warm in the circus.”


  “Have ya ever been to see Mr. Kite before?”


  “Yeah, neither have I. John said he’s good, but I’ve never seen him meself.”

  “Will you just quit it with the bloody smalltalk?!” George cried. “I’m aware that something pretty embarrassing happened not too long ago. But you don’t have to act like nothing fucking happened! You caught me wanking, big deal. Just shrug it off and don’t act so damn awkward!”

  Ringo sat in silence for the rest of the ride, driving down the nearly empty evening road, George by his side. He didn’t know what to do, as he felt everything he could possibly say would make their whole situation even more awkward. The tension between the two men was outstandingly high, and neither of them dared to speak for fear of ruining their friendship even more.

  Suddenly, the radio seemed like a good option, and Ringo’s fingers desperately turned the adjustment dial, flipping through countless stations before a familiar sound rang to their ears.

  “Is that Lady Madonna?” Ringo asked, hoping george would forget about what had happened in the bathroom earlier that evening.

  “Sounds like it,” George snapped back almost sarcastically. It was obviously fellow band mate Paul McCartney’s voice singing their latest hit, ‘Lady Madonna,’ but George just didn’t want to acknowledge that because it meant he’d have to talk to Ringo. Of course, Ringo kept on blabbering away.

  “I see another number one in our future,” he chuckled.

  “Mmm,” George nearly groaned in response.

  “Ooh, we’re almost there,” Ringo giggled excitedly, looking at the dimly lit signs on the side of the road with arrows pointing towards the circus tent. George just rolled his eyes and rested his elbow on the window sill, his head in his hand.

  “Lady Madonna,” Ringo mumble-sang under his breath, “children at your feet.”

  George sighed audibly, growing more and more annoyed with every line of their latest hit Ringo sang under his breath. Did he really expect George not to hear him?

  “Wonder how you manage to make ends meet…”

  God, what is Ringo’s problem tonight? George’s mind practically ranted. He just won’t fucking shut up!

“Who finds the money when you pay the rent…”

  It’s like he’s trying to pick up a bird, George chuckled to himself. He won’t stop talking to me until I show some kind of interest!

“Do you think that money was heaven sent?”

  Well, I guess I should give him what he wants. Time to go ultra-peppy, George!

“Friday night arrives without a suitcase!” George and Ringo both sang in unison, George practically screaming at the top of his lungs as Ringo still mumbled under his breath. Ringo shot George a very confused look, continuing to sing, but very unaware of what had just happened inside George’s head.

  “Sunday morning creeping like a nun!” Now it was only George singing, and Ringo had stopped completely. He tried to focus on actually driving the car, but George was distracting him too much… he just had to join him and sing along…

  “Monday’s child has learned to tie his bootlegs, see how they run! Lady Madonna, baby at your breast! Wonders you manage to feed the rest!” The two band mates where now singing in perfect unison, the Beatles who were allowed to sing the least now starred in their own song. George and Ringo soon forgot about their entire tense car ride here as well as walking in on George wanking, and they sang their latest hit with so much glee that even Paul would be put to shame.

  Soon the song was over, conveniently at the same time that they arrived at the circus. Both Ringo and George stared at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing, their fit of giggles bringing back memories of happier days as best mates. None of them dared bring up the wanking incident, as they were now closer and didn’t want to ruin their reestablished friendship.

  “Come on, we’re gonna be late!” Ringo cried as they parked their car, noticing that the show was going to start in no less than ten minutes. They both hurriedly jumped out, grabbing their coats and running inside the tent.

  They managed to make it through the crowds without getting recognized, sitting far in the back so that no one would be able to see them. They settled into their seats, getting comfortable before the lights dimmed and a voice boomed through the loudspeakers.

  “And now- ladies and gentlemen- Mr. Kite’s latest mind-blowing circus experience- ‘Carnival of Light!’”

  The crowd clapped and cheered, most of them seemingly having been to this strange circus before. George and Ringo joined in the clapping part as well, but they weren’t as enthusiastic as the others. Then the crowd silenced and the entire room went near pitch black, the only source of light a spotlight on the center of the floor, a tiny man in a teal blue suit in the center.

  “Hello, ladies and gentlemen,” he spoke in a booming voice. “I’m the infamous Mr. K.”

  “Well no shit,” George whispered, and Ringo broke out into a fit of immature giggles.

  “There will be a show tonight on trampoline. The Hendersons will all be there, over men and horses, hoops and garters, lastly, through a hogshead of real fire! A splendid time is guaranteed for all. And tonight, Mr. Kite is topping the bill!”

  Mr. Kite stopped talking, and the spotlight was dragged off of him, focusing on a woman wearing an oddly designed fluorescent green outfit covered in glitter. She began swinging off a rope swing by her feet meeting a man in a matching blue fluorescent costume and linking legs, allowing her to swing off of her own swing and attach onto the man’s.

  “This is so stereotypical,” Ringo whispered. “They’re just swinging from ropes. What circus doesn’t have that?”

  “I know,” George mumbled back. “Queue the ring of fire.”

  As George said that, another spot light shone on a massive ring of fire, right in the path of the couple in the fluorescent costumes.

  “Who called that?” George laughed cockily, and Ringo joined in. By now, they were having more fun making fun of the circus show than actually watching it.

  “Why did John recommend this place?” George asked once again, a few minutes later. “All they’re doing is jumping through fire and swinging on swings. What could have been so special that made John like it so much?”

  Suddenly a wild thought popped into Ringo’s mind. He may just have figured out John’s thinking. “Wanna ditch?” he asked, looking at George uneasily and awaiting his response.

  “Ditch?” George asked. “But we paid.”

  “We’re fucking Beatles,” Ringo chuckled. “We can afford it. Trust me.”

  “Well…” George hesitated, “alright.”

  “Come on.”

  Ringo grabbed George’s hand, quietly running out of the room and escaping the horribly predictable performance. As they were running out, the air seemed to fill with a pinkish mist, and it left both boys choking as they finally made it into the other room.

  “What was that?” Ringo choked, the pink mist still deep in his throat.

  “I dunno.” George could barely breathe, that strange, misty substance filling his throat and eyes. He almost couldn’t see Ringo as the two of them stood there, panting and out of breath.

  “Let’s go somewhere else,” Ringo suggested. “Maybe that stuff that’s making us choke  won’t be in another room.”


  George followed Ringo down the hallway, not knowing where they were but figuring that any place was better than that odd, pink smoke. They could barely see each other, let alone even make eye contact as they raced down the hallway, searching desperately to find a room to escape to.

  Ringo settled on a door that had what appeared to be pink swirls on it, opening the door and shoving George in as well as himself. The room was pitch black, and neither man could see the other through the darkness. The odd pink smoke was still deeply lodged in their throats, but now they could actually breathe.

  “Find a light switch, will ya?” Ringo asked, and George nodded, forgetting that the older lad couldn’t see a single movement in the darkness.

  George flicked on the light and was met face to face with Ringo’s beautiful, blue eyes. He was almost taken aback by the sight of such dazzling eyes, the spontaneous eye contact with them sending chills through his veins. They couldn’t take their eyes off of each other, for a brief moment, connected in more than just eye contact. It was like they were truly connected.

  “Oh, sorry…” George mumbled awkwardly, his eyes darting away from Ringo’s and to the floor.

  “No, no, it’s fine.” For some reason, Ringo’s heart and mind had worked up the courage to do something that otherwise, he wouldn’t dare doing. His hand reached up and caressed George’s cheek, the younger lad’s eyes looking up from the floor and back into Ringo’s. They made sweet eye contact once more, and Ringo took his shot, leaning in and kissing George softly on the lips.

  The younger lad was shocked at how spontaneously Ringo’s kiss had come, but he didn’t mind, leaning in along and kissing Ringo back. Ringo’s eyes widened as he realized what he had just done, widening even further when George’s lips kissed back. George’s hands found their way around Ringo’s back, pulling him closer. Their eyes were closed, enjoying their time so close to each other, and they stumbled backward, landing on a soft, cushiony substance.

  They pulled away from their kiss, looking down and realizing they were now lying on what appeared to be a bed, George on top of Ringo. The room itself was empty except for the odd little bed they were on, but neither boy protested as George leaned in once again, connecting their kiss.

  Soft little moans could be heard escaping from Ringo’s lips, George smiling as their kiss ventured on. Soon Ringo’s curious hands found their way onto George’s jacket, tugging it off. George chuckled and allowed Ringo to take his jacket off, his shirt soon following.

  Ringo’s eyes were wide with curiosity, not knowing how to react to the half naked man on top of him. George was so toned, his muscles gleaming against the ceiling lights. George smiled seductively and began tugging at Ringo’s own shirt, which soon came off and hit the floor as well.

  Getting tired of just kissing and feeling like he needed to become closer to Ringo, George slid down Ringo’s body and began kissing at his lower stomach, right above the top of his tight trousers. Ringo let out a gasp of air, looking down at George and wondering how the hell something this wonderful could have happened so soon.

  George’s fingers curiously began tugging at Ringo’s belt, and Ringo gave in, allowing his pants and underwear to slip off. He was now completely naked and hard as hell, and George’s hands began sliding their way up and down his shaft. Ringo couldn’t help but moan audibly, not knowing such an extreme pleasure could come from another man in a way like this. It was so wrong; but it felt so right.

  George unbuckled his own belt, allowing all of his clothes to hit the floor as well. The naked man climbed on top of his equally as naked partner, grinding up against him and sending tingles through both men’s bodies. The feeling of Ringo against himself in a way like this made George want to float away, the pleasure seeming all too much.

  “George…” Ringo forced out, George kissing at his neck. George sucked delicately, causing the drummer below him to constantly gasp out loud. “Make love to me.”

  George simply nodded, standing up and fetching a small little bottle from his coat pocket on the floor. Ringo readied himself, spreading his legs as George lubed himself up. He would have asked why George randomly had a container of lube on his person, but didn’t, as it would spoil the moment. 

  George returned with his cock slicked up, his fingers dipped in the slippery substance as well. “I have to loosen you up first,” he spoke in a calming voice, climbing onto the bed once more and readying himself. “It’ll hurt a bit at first, but it’ll feel good in the end. I promise you.”

  Ringo nodded, spreading his legs a little wider as George’s first finger slid inside of him. He bit his tongue at the odd feeling of it, but overall, didn’t find much pain.

  “Should I keep going?” George asked, his voice sounding sincere yet incredibly sexy.

  “Mm-hmm,” Ringo replied, bracing himself as yet another one of George’s fingers slide inside him. They began stroking at his insides, sending pricks of pleasure through Ringo’s body. “Mmm keep going!” he cried out, and George pulled his fingers out.

  “You ready?” He asked, positioning himself for complete entry, this time, not just his fingers.

  Ringo closed his eyes as his head hit back against the bed sheets, bracing himself for what was about to come. George grabbed Ringo’s fragile little hips and slid his member inside, gasping out in pleasure as the tight ring of muscles in Ringo’s entrance adapted around the new entry.

  “Fuck!” Ringo cried out, his fingernails digging into the bedsheets.

  “You alright?” George asked, noticing Ringo might be in some amount of pain.

  “Yes…” Ringo forced out. “Just start moving. I think that’ll solve the pain.”

  “Okay.” George slowly began moving in and out of Ringo, the tightness around his cock almost too much. He began gasping and panting, barely having started the sexual experience but knowing already that it was going to be incredible.

  “Dear God!” Ringo cried, his fingernails gripping the bedsheets even tighter. “Do that again!”

  George nodded in accordance and slid his cock over the same spot he had hit before.

  “Motherfuck!” Ringo gasped, his breathing speeding up and intensifying their experience. “You’re amazing!” he cried, not wanting to ever be without George. “Speed up!”

  George obeyed and rammed into Ringo forcefully, the drummer spasming with pleasure below him. “I love you George,” he gasped out, the bed now shaking beneath them.

  “I love you too, Ritch.”

  George couldn’t stop pounding into the sexy drummer below him, their sexual experience even better than he could have ever imagined. He felt himself getting closer and closer to his release, Ringo about to orgasm as well. With one final ram, he came inside of Ringo, sending chills of pleasure throughout both of their bodies. He kept on sliding in and out of Ringo even though he was done with his own orgasm, and eventually, Ringo came as well. George slowly pulled out and licked Ringo clean, then slid up and kissed Ringo on the lips, allowing him to taste his own release.

  “Wow,” was all Ringo managed to say, his hand digging through George’s hair as the older boy cuddled with him and held him close. “That was incredible.”

  “Mmm, I know. You’re incredible.”

  Ringo smiled and closed his eyes, and George looked up at the ceiling. Aren’t you glad I recommended this place? were the words written on the ceiling, in John’s familiar handwriting. Sure as hell helped me out.

At this point, George couldn’t help but burst out into a wide grin. For once in his life, he had never been so glad to take John’s advice. The Carnival of Light was definitely going to be something he would never forget.

Another Girl - Chapter Four

Title: Another Girl

Author: SgtPepperRigby

Pairings for this Chapter: John/Paul

Rating: 1976

Warnings: You guessed it..

Summary: Feelings are exchanged, along with bodily fluids.

Word Count:

Disclaimer: I do not own the Beatles, as well as any other characters represented in this fan fiction. None of this is real, and I don’t actually believe what happened, yadda yadda yadda.

Keep reading

Young Blood - Chapter Twenty

Title: Young Blood 

Author: SgtPepperRigby

Pairing: George/Ringo

Rating: PG (Nothing bad happens at all though.)

Warnings:  None

Summary: George falls head over heels for his teacher.

Word Count: 1,192

Disclaimer: I do not own the Beatles, as well as any other characters represented in this fan fiction. None of this is real, and I don’t actually believe what happened, yadda yadda yadda. Plus I wrote really quickly, so this chapter sucks writing-wise. ENJOY.

Keep reading

Young Blood - Chapter Nineteen

Title: Young Blood 

Author: SgtPepperRigby

Pairing: George/Ringo

Rating: R

Warnings:  Sex. Haha, I said that so bluntly. But yes, they do it. Be happy.

Summary: George falls head over heels for his teacher.

Word Count1,607

Disclaimer: I do not own the Beatles, as well as any other characters represented in this fan fiction. None of this is real, and I don’t actually believe what happened, yadda yadda yadda. Plus I wrote really quickly, so this chapter sucks writing-wise. ENJOY.

Keep reading

I Can't Explain - Chapter One

Title: I Can’t Explain

Chapter: 1

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Jeith (John/Keith)

Warnings: Gay kissing, mild drugs

Time Period: Not quite sure. Early Who days, but not too early. I’d say late sixties, early seventies.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any members of the Who, as well as any other characters represented in this fic.

Keep reading

The White Room - 3/5

 Title: The White Room – 3/5?
Pairing: John/Paul
Author: sgtpepperrigby
Rating: NC-17 overall
John and Paul sneak away from an interview and find themselves trapped in a mysterious white room.
Swearing, Sexual Situations, Alcohol
 I don’t own the Beatles, and I definitely don’t claim to. The Beatles would kill me if I actually owned them. So don’t worry, this is all made up, I promise.
A/N; I’m thinking this’ll be about 5 chapters. Kill me if it’s not. & This is kind of a filler chapter, I apologize.

 “Shut up and kiss me.”


  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  And John obeyed. He leaned in, grabbing Paul’s face in his hands. He closed his eyes and kissed him softly, their lips touching passionately and creating sparks that sizzled through both of their bodies and minds. John’s fingers raked through Paul’s hair, and Paul wrapping his arms around John shoulders. Then John pulled away.

  John opened his eyes, smiling softly at Paul before his smile faded, becoming more serious. He was about to say something, but Paul beat him to it.

  “What do you think?” Paul cocked his head to the side slightly, which John secretly thought was adorable, but he wasn’t willing to admit that.

  “I…I liked it,” John replied honestly.

  Paul didn’t even have to think about it; he dove in and tackled John to the floor, showering him in kisses and laying on top of him. John’s hands found the small on Paul’s back, as he was still shirtless. Paul was grinding on top of John, kissing down his neck, biting and sucking teasingly, much to John’s delight.

  “You feel so good to me,” John breathed in between kisses, his hands gliding up and down Paul’s back.

  Paul moaned rather loudly, and John took that as a sign that it was time his own shirt came off. He quickly ripped it off, throwing it beside him and resuming his kissing session with Paul. The younger lad just felt so incredible on top of him, grinding and moaning with pleasure, causing John to reach a rather satisfying mode of pleasure himself.

  “I want you, Paul,” John continued, moaning out quite loud himself when Paul’s member woke up against his own.

  John shifted, allowing himself to be on top of Paul for a change. He made sure no weight was on Paul, and then he went for Paul’s belt.

  Paul was in the middle of this exciting new feeling in which he was absorbed in. He was enjoying every minute of being with John, each new move more adventurous than the last. But when Paul heard his belt being undone, he had to stop John immediately.

  “What are you doing?” Paul asked, his hands blocking John from advancing.

  “Paul, I need you,” John moaned out, looking into his eyes and stealing Paul’s signature puppy-dog look.

  “John, this is too much.” Paul shoved John off of him, sitting up and leaning against the wall.

  “I’m sorry, I just-“ John hesitated, his head in his hands. “I just want you so badly, I need you, Macca…”

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to do that. I knew it would have ended badly.”

  “No, I got carried away…”


  “I never should have kissed you, I knew you wouldn’t like it.”

  “No, I liked it, actually…”

  John looked up, his eyes full of hope.

  “You… you did?”

  Paul nodded, and John felt everything in his heart snap back into place.

  “Yes, but… I don’t want to ruin our friendship. I don’t want to go insane with lust, or-”

  “Oh, trust me. You ruined any chances of sanity the day you became friends with me.”

  Paul let out a weak laugh, smiling and feeling a lot better about their entire situation.

  “I’m sorry I rushed,” John spoke again, looking into Paul’s eyes and making the younger man melt inside.

  “No, no, it’s my fault, I swear.”

  “Do you think we could do that again sometime? Without all the sexual qualities?”

  Paul bit his lip. “If we do something like this, I want the sexual parts to come naturally, y’know?”

  John nodded, looking uneasily at Paul. “In a few minutes, we went from best mates to sexual partners. I’m sorry…”

  “Don’t be, John. I know I’ve said this multiple times already, but it was completely my fault for leading you on.”

  “You didn’t lead me on. I knew this was coming.”

  “You knew what was coming?”

  “The crash.”

  “What… what crash?”

  “The crash. After everything good with you, something bad happens. It’s like crash.”

  Paul gulped, looking down at the floor uneasily. “I didn’t know you thought of me that way.”

  “I typically don’t, I’m only just realized it. It’s not a big deal, Paul, I was just being honest-“

  But then Paul’s lips were on his own once more, Paul’s tongue invading his mouth for what felt like the first time once again. John took a moment to adjust, but his hands soon made their way back to the small in Paul’s back and pulled him closer.

  “I thought you didn’t want this,” John whispered to Paul, not taking any attention away from him.

  “I thought I didn’t, either,” Paul whispered back, his tongue exploring John’s mouth from new angles and causing John to harden a little bit.

  “Are you sure you’re ready this time?”

  “I’m positive.”


You Really Got A Hold On Me - Chapter 15

Title: You Really Got a Hold on Me - Chapter 15
Pairing: John/Paul, George/Ringo
Author: sgtpepperrigby
Rating: NC-17
Summary: John and Paul action, and Ringo and George get stoned.
Warnings: drug use, swearing, sexual references
Disclaimer: This is pure fiction. I have no idea what really happened, and I definitely don’t own the Beatles. This story is entirely of my imagination.
A/N; Short, whatever. Enjoy.

  When Paul awoke, he felt strained and restricted. He felt as if he couldn’t move very far, yet he knew he was in his hotel bed simply because he could see the window and the walls were that same familiar maroon color. It was as if his blankets were pulling him closer to something, and Paul couldn’t move. His blankets felt like they were wrapped around him more tightly, as if they were pulling him in…

  Paul tried to shove the blankets off of himself, but he realized that they were wrapped around him pretty tightly. They felt like they had more force than blankets. He turned around in his bed, still lying down, and came face to face with John, who was still asleep, his arms wrapped around Paul.

  “What the fuck?!” he screamed, instantly waking John up. Paul shoved John off of him, and sat up in his bed.

  “What’s wrong, Paulie?” John asked, smiling a tired smile up at Paul.

  “You…! What the hell?”

  “What’s so bad about that?”

  “You… were in my bed… did we have sex?!”

  “No, no, rest your precious head… you just looked so lonely all alone in bed.”

  “Well, I was sleeping! I’d hope I was alone…”

  “We didn’t have sex, promise. You’d remember if you had sex with me.”

  “John, are you drunk?”

  “No, trust me…” John smiled, and reached for Paul, trying to pull him closer. “Why would I ruin a moment like this with alcohol?”

  “Get off!” Paul cried, shoving John away from him and sitting up against the wall. “Last time we had sex you were drunk, and you didn’t want it! Our last moment was ruined with alcohol! You are such a hypocrite, John!”

  “Paul, I want you…” John licked his lips subtly, but Paul still noticed. “I need you.”

  “Stay the fuck away from me, John! I don’t want you anymore!”

  “Paul, come on… I finally realized something yesterday.”

  “Well I don’t give a shit about what you realized, I realized I’m done with you!”

  “Paul, please, just listen!”

  “No, John! Leave me alone!” Paul jumped off of his bed, pacing into the other room to grab his jacket and leave.

  “Paul, please!” John got up, following Paul into the other room as well.

  “John, I told you to stay away from me!” Paul said, turning around to yell at him before he left.

  “But Paul!” John grabbed Paul’s wrist. “Stay, please.”

  “Why, John? So you can take advantage of me again?!” Paul tried to shove John away, but John’s grip on him was too tight.

  “Paul, stay… five minutes, I promise…” John wrapped his arms around Paul’s waist.

  “John… get off…” but Paul’s attempts to get John to leave were soon failing as John began kissing down the back of Paul’s neck. John turned Paul around and began sucking on his neck, and kissing him passionately.

  “Paul… just do what I say, alright?”

  “Alright…” Paul moaned in between kisses.

  John pulled Paul into their bedroom, throwing the younger lad down on his bed and crawling on top of him. John tore off Paul’s clothes, tearing his own off equally as passionately. Soon the two were naked, their erections rubbing up against each other with such force, that it drove the two crazy as they continued kissing.

  “Are you sure you want this?” Paul asked, looking up at John innocently while he was lying underneath him.

  “I’m so sure, it hurts.”

  John got up and Paul waited patiently, making himself more comfortable against the pillows on John’s bed. John lubed himself up, then crawled back over to Paul.

  “Do you want me to do anything first, or-“

  “Just go ahead,” Paul said, wanting to feel John inside him again as soon as possible.

  John positioned himself, stroking his cock a few times, getting himself ready to enter Paul. He moved in closer to Paul, and Paul spread his legs obediently.

  “I’m about to enter, alright, luv?”


  John moved in as close as he could, slowly gliding his cock into Paul, crying out because it was so tight.

  “Good God, you’re tight!” John cried, trying to distract Paul from the slight pain as he entered.

  “I know, you said before…” Paul was writhing from the pain, even though John had entered him before.

  “Maybe it’s cause this feels like it’s the first time with you,” John smiled, his cock now as far in Paul as it could go.

  “Just bleedin’ do it already, John!” Paul cried out, grabbing John closer to him.

  John did as he was told, slowly gliding in and out of Paul, causing the younger lad to dig his hands into the bed sheets.

  “Dear God, John!” he cried out.

  John sped up a bit, leaning in closer to Paul, kissing along his neck as Paul moaned even louder.

  “John… John…” Paul moaned, very loud for someone who didn’t want to be heard.

  “You like that, Paul?” John smirked, speeding up and going even deeper into Paul.

  “Mmm, oh God, I love it, John!” Paul clung onto John desperately, feeling so much closer to the thing that was causing this incredible pleasure.

  “Come on, cum for me, Paulie.” It was more of a plead than an order, but Paul tried as hard as he could to obey John’s every command.

  John sped up, as fast as he could, gliding into Paul with such an incredible force, driving Paul closer to cumming. Paul could feel John gliding over his prostate, and he couldn’t control the sounds that came out of his mouth. Paul stopped moaning and literally began saying jibberish, not finding any words to express how amazing John felt inside of him.

  “Paul, I’m so close…” John cried, the sound of Paul moaning underneath him causing him to become even closer to orgasm.

  “Oh my God John, you’re incredible!” Paul cried out, as John gave one final thrust into him before cumming inside him.

  Paul, feeling John spill inside of him, came instantly, shuddering with the breath-taking orgasm that was taking over his entire body. He laid down next to John, grabbing his hand and rolling on his side to face him.

  “Are you glad you listened to me now?” asked John, smiling at Paul.

  “Definitely.” Paul smiled back, and John wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer.

  “Do you want to know what I realized yesterday?” he asked, raking his hand through Paul’s hair and kissing the back of his neck.

  “Sure, what is it?” Paul chuckled.

  “I love you, Paul.”


  “I realized, I love you.”

  “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear those words.”

  John pulled away from Paul, just so he could kiss him softly on the lips.

  “I love you too, John.”



  “Dear God, are they fucking in there?” Ringo asked, sitting at the kitchen table and drinking some tea.

  “What else can they be doing, moaning that loud?” George chuckled, seated next to him and drinking some tea as well.

  “Well, they finally fucked. Good for them.”

  “I hope John’s not drunk again though.”

  “I would hope not. Don’t think Paul could handle that again.”

  “I don’t want to handle it either. Too much drama between them two.”

  “Thank God we’re not like that.”

  “Ringo, you said you loved me, and then you left!” George joked, placing his hand on his heart dramatically.

  “I changed my mind, luv! I don’t love you anymore!” Ringo said in a very low, manly voice, but batting his eyelashes to contradict it.

  “Were you drunk? When we made love?!” George jokingly accused, jumping back a bit in his seat to add effect.

  “Yes, our whole love had been a lie!” Ringo cried.

  “Oh no!” George collapsed laughing, nearly knocking his tea over as he did so.

  “What have our lives become?” Ringo laughed, holding George close to him.

  “I dunno, but I sure as hell love it.”

  “Me too. We’re crazier than John sometimes, I swear.”

  “The quiet Beatle and the funny Beatle, loonier than the cute one and the… the… well, John.”

  The two of them laughed like crazy, but then George got up and ran into the bedroom.

  “They’re still goin’ at it!” cried George, now able to hear John and Paul in the other room much better.

  “You spyin’ on ‘em?” laughed Ringo from the other room, taking a sip of his tea.

  “No, I’m getting’ somethin’,” George cried from their bedroom.

  “What might that be?”

  “Just close your eyes and wait.”

  “Alright, but you owe me, luv.”

  “After you see what this is, you’ll owe me.”

  George came back into the room, holding something behind his back, thankful that Ringo had obeyed and closed his eyes.

  “I can hear you,” Ringo smiled, his eyes still closed. “So don’t think you’re gonna sneak up on me and scare me or anything.”

  “Open your eyes, Rings,” George said soothingly, and Ringo obeyed. George coughed uncontrollably, then began giggling like a child.

  “George…?” Ringo asked, not realizing what was going on.

  “Here ya go, Ringsie-wingsies!” George giggled, handing Ringo his joint.

  “George, where the hell did you get that?”

  “Just had it, forgot about it. But don’t stress about it, just take a drag and drift away, luv.”

  Ringo did as he was told and took a heavy drag of the joint, leaning back in his seat and feeling as if he were floating away.

  “Brian’s gonna kill us, ya know,” he said, coughing and handing the joint back to George.

  “What Brian doesn’t see won’t hurt him, dearie Ringy-wingy.”

  “Why do you keep callin’ me that?” Ringo laughed, the marijuana now settling in.

  “I’m stoned, Rings! Don’t you see the pot in my hands? Or are you that stoned already?”

  “I dunno, George… all I feel is sunshine when I’m with you. I’m in sunshine, and it’s floating through my veins.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “I know, George-worgey, lovey-dovey-dove.”

  “I get a nickname too?”

  “Hell yes!”

  When George was stoned, he acted like a five year old, saying whatever came to his mind and laughing uncontrollably. When Ringo was high, he did whatever he was told, and didn’t overthink things.

  “I love this stuff, George,” Ringo said, laughing like a maniac at nothing in particular. “And I love you.”

  “Love you too, Ringy-ding-ding.”

Young Blood - Chapter Eighteen

Title: Young Blood 

Author: SgtPepperRigby

Pairing: George/Ringo

Rating: PG

Warnings:  Nothing bad, I promise ya.

Summary: George falls head over heels for his teacher.

Word Count: 1,730

Disclaimer: I do not own the Beatles, as well as any other characters represented in this fan fiction. 

Keep reading

  Hello, I missed you all so much! I’ve been rather busy lately and I don’t have time to write any full-out fanfictions. HOWEVER, if you send an ask to my inbox asking John, Paul, George, Ringo, Cynthia, Jane, Linda, Pattie, Maureen, or a few others close to them, I’ll answer as them and give a short little fanfiction-like response! So get askin’!

You Really Got a Hold On Me - Chapter 4

Title: You Really Got a Hold On Me - Chapter 4

Pairing: John/Paul, George/Ringo

Author: sgtpepperrigby

Rating: PG-13

Summary: A little heated action between Paul and John. Meanwhile, George tries to admit his feelings to Ringo.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, mild sexual situations

Disclaimer: This is pure fiction. I have no idea what really happened, and I definitely don’t own the Beatles. This story is entirely of my imagination.

A/N; I know these chapters are pretty short, but I’m hoping this one will be longer. Jam-packed with McLennon-y goodness (:

“What kind of feelings?” asked John, just as clueless as George had been.

  “Feelings for you.” Paul gulped.

  Time seemed to slow down for Paul. He couldn’t believe what he had just said, and he certainly couldn’t believe John hadn’t slapped him in the face or walked out already. But John remained calm, and at first Paul thought he hadn’t actually said those words out loud. But then what happened next determined Paul wasn’t crazy, and he had indeed said those words out loud to John.

  John leaned in and kissed Paul, with such passion Paul had never experienced before. Shocks of electricity shot through Paul’s lips. He had never felt a kiss so powerful before, so full of lost and forbidden feelings. But then as soon as the kiss happened, it was over.

  Paul didn’t even have time to react. He was lost in the intensity of the kiss, that by the time it was over he didn’t want to let go. But John pulled away, immediately ashamed at what he had just done. He got up off the bed and got up to exit their hotel room. Paul wanted to ask him what was wrong, but John was gone before he had the opportunity to ask. Without any regret, he picked up his bottle of vodka and took another gulp of it, sinking into his bedsheets, overwhelmed with emotions.

  John hurried to get out of that room. What had he just done? There was no way he had actually wanted to kiss that bloody poofer. He had just used his… undeniable charm to practically force him into kissing Paul. Something in his tone of voice had persuaded him into doing it. Macca had those gorgeous, long lashes  and those beautiful, plump lips that were just begging to be kissed. And so that’s what John did. He kissed them.

  John couldn’t deny that the kiss had sent shivers of lust and pleasure through his entire body, but he wouldn’t admit that to himself just yet. He needed to talk to Brian about this. Brian would understand.

  John found himself knocking on their manager’s door, which was almost immediately opened by him. Brian invited John inside, and he sat down at the table which Brian had, judging by his plate covered in crumbs, just finished lunch.

  “Just in time, John. I was going to make some tea. Would you like any?” he asked, unaware John had come into his room with a reason.

  “That would be lovely, Brian.” Great. John had found himself talking like that fucking poofer McCartney already. He hoped Brian hadn’t noticed.

  Brian noticed the way John was actually being nice to him, which was a change in Lennon’s usually brutally honest opinions on everything. “Alright, what’s wrong,   John?” he asked, sitting next to John and forcing eye contact. He knew eye contact was key to destroying any chance John had at hiding his secret.

  “I just kissed Paul,” John blurted out, regretting it immediately. But since Brian himself was gay, maybe he could help with the sudden burst of queer thoughts John was experiencing.

  Brian hesitated. “Did you kiss him, or did he kiss you?” 

  Was there really a difference? thought John. A kiss was a kiss, it didn’t matter who did it, right? “I kissed him, I guess,” John said, after thinking about it for a moment or two. Yes, I kissed Paul McCartney. And I bloody liked it.

Brian thought for a minute or two before coming up with his next question. “And what caused you to kiss him?”

  “Well, he was upset. So I went into our room to try and see what was making him upset. And he said he had feelings for me, so I kissed him.”

  Brian kept thinking up more questions for John. “And what happened after the kiss?”

  “Well, I immediately got up and came here.” Where was the fucking tea? He desperately wanted to get off this topic.

  “And how did Paul react to that?”

 John swallowed his spit. “What?”

  “I asked you, ‘how did Paul react to that?’”

  John thought for a moment. He hadn’t even thought how this would effect Paul. Paul had just struggled so hard to admit his feelings about him, and once he did, he had given him a quick snog and then left without saying a word. Paul was going to hate him now! This would be the end of Lennon/McCartney as we knew it, and it was all John’s fault.

  “I… I didn’t notice.”

  “Did Paul even react?”


  “I didn’t get to look at him. I left too fast.”

  “Well that’s probably what’s troubling you so much, then,” Brian resumed his usual, calming and caring voice. “You shouldn’t have done that. You gave him a taste of what he wanted and then took it away. You either need to give him what he’s looking for, or apologize to the poor boy for doing that to him.”

  Apologize? Was Brian serious? John fucking Lennon was not apologizing for something Paul had dragged him into. “Brian, I’m not fucking queer, I’m not giving Macca what he wants!” John’s words cut into Brian like cuts from a razorblade.

  “Then why did you do it in the first place?”

  “Do what?” asked John, completely clueless to the whole situation.

  “You kissed poor Paul and ran away. Why did you do it?”

  John thought for a moment. “I guess I just wanted to make him happy. He seemed awfully upset.”


  “Are you sure it wasn’t something else, John?” Brian’s eyes pierced into John’s heart, causing him to choke on his words.

  “No, Brian, I’m not a fucking queer like you and Paul are, alright! What happened in Spain was stupid, I’m not a bloody queer!” John was furious by now, and his words were beginning to be spat out, rather than said.

  “Alright, I see. You can leave now, John.” Brian was practically forcing John into apologizing to Paul, but John didn’t take the hint.

  “I can leave whenever the fuck I feel like it, Brian!”  John stood up from his chair and rushed out the door, slamming it behind him. He ran into the public restroom at the end of the hallway, walking to the last stall and locking the door behind him, sitting on the closed seat. George had done the same thing, only minutes before, but John would never know that.

  Sitting down, he finally had time to catch up with his emotions with no one around. Unlike Paul or George, however, he didn’t cry. Instead, he pulled a flask of liquor out of his coat pocket, and began heavily drinking it. He needed some way to drown out his feelings towards Paul, feelings he hadn’t realized until just moments ago. But he wasn’t willing to admit them to anyone yet, especially Paul.

  Ringo looked at George curiously. “What do we need to talk about that’s so important?” Once in a while, Ringo showed his serious side. It was rare, but it occasionally came out. And that meant something serious was about to go down.

  “Us,” George said, plainly and proudly, hoping Ringo wouldn’t realize what he had just said. Unfortunately for him, Ringo did realize. But he didn’t mind.

  “What about… us?” asked, trying to let his voice remain calm.

  “I like you, Rings, I know it can’t be that hard to see.”

  Ringo’s breathing slowed down as he tried to grasp what George was throwing at him. “You like me, Geo?”

  “Yes, I fancy you. I’m not queer or anything, but I… I just don’t know.” George looked at Ringo with, what Ringo thought, was fear in his eyes. For once, George was actually scared.

  “You.. you fancy me?” asked Ringo, still not sure he was hearing George correctly.

  “Yes, I fancy you, stop making this so difficult!” George joked. He hoped he could reach Ringo by turning this into a somewhat joke.

  “I see…” Ringo honestly didn’t know how to respond to that.

  “I’m sorry,” George said, tears in his eyes now, “I’ve gone and screwed everything up, haven’t I?”

  “No, no, everything’s going to be okay.” Ringo grabbed George’s hands and held them in his own. “I know a lot must be going through your head right now, but believe me, it’s going to get better.”

  “What do you mean, ‘believe me?’” asked George, hope still in his mind.

  “I’m just saying, I know these kind of thoughts may be tough on ya, but you have to learn that they’re natural.”


  Now Ringo was worried. “Or at least I think they are.”

  “Have you had thoughts about other blokes as well?” George tried to hide his excitement.

  “Yes, but briefly.” Ringo didn’t want to give George a false sense of hope. “Not in a while, though.” That was a lie.

  “Alright. I think I’m going to make lunch now, want some?” George asked, getting up and letting go of Ringo’s hands, trying to avoid an awkward situation.

  “We just had breakfast!” Ringo cried, honesty stunned at how George could remain so skinny when all he did was eat.

  “So?” George let out a weak smile and began making tea.

  “Do you ever stop eating?” Ringo asked, now smiling as well.

  “I’m making tea right now, Ringo. Don’t tell me you eat tea instead of drinking it!”

  “Oh yes, Georgie! I eat tea like there’s no tomorrow!” the two giggled and made random jokes like they used to. Nothing was different between them, for whatever reason, and George enjoyed that fact. Nothing had changed between the two best mates. George hoped it would stay that way.

  Meanwhile, back in John and Paul’s room, John had opened the door to only find a sleeping Paul. Christ, he couldn’t have been gone that long, there was no way he could have fallen asleep that fast. But John didn’t doubt the younger boy was tired from the stress that previously taken over the two of them, so he didn’t blame him.

  Lying on Paul’s bed was a piece of paper, with what John assumed to be song lyrics on it. John, being as nosy as he is sometimes, picked up the paper and looked it over.

Look what you’re doing, I’m feeling blue and lonely,

Would it be too much to ask of you,

What you’re doing to me?

  John couldn’t believe the beautiful lyrics he was reading. Such beautiful lyrics had come from a fight between he and Paul. He kept reading.

You got me running and there’s no fun in it,

Why should it be so much to ask of you,

What you’re doing to me?

  These lyrics were pure beauty and pure poetry. But sadly, they were about him. John wondered how many other ballads Paul had written were secretly about him.

I’ve been waiting here for you,

Wond'ring what you’re gonna do,

Should you need a love that’s true,

It’s me.

Please stop your lying, you’ve got me crying, girl,

Why should it be so much to ask of you,

What you’re doing to me?

What you’re doing to me.

John closed his eyes and hummed along to the lyrics as he sang them in his head, trying not to wake Paul from his precious slumber. John laid the lyrics down at their table, and crawled into his own bed, lying down and closing his own eyes, drifting off into his own peaceful dreams.

Another Girl - Chapter Two

Title: Another Girl

Author: SgtPepperRigby

Pairing: John/Paul

Rating: PG-13 (For now)

Warnings: A few swears and sexual references, nothing bad yet.

Summary: After a strange encounter with an elder woman the previous night, John awakens and find he’s going through ch-ch-changes.

Word Count: 2,590

Disclaimer: I do not own the Beatles, as well as any other characters represented in this fan fiction. None of this is real, and I don’t actually believe what happened, yadda yadda yadda. ALSO sorry if this chapter seems a little jumpy or all over the place, I find it rather difficult to focus on one topic when both thinking and talking, and I think it’s quite clear in my writing as well. But I think it adds to the character, too.

Keep reading

One of the Beautiful People - Chapter 6

Title: One of the Beautiful People - Chapter 6

Author: SgtPepperRigby

Pairing: John/Paul

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,265

Summary: John makes his decision.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Beatles, as well as any other Beatle-related characters in this fan fiction. I’m just writing it for fun, so don’t ever believe that I am trying to take credit for them.

Notes: I really enjoyed writing this fic, and I’m so sad it’s over! Hopefully you guys liked it. Comments are love (:

  “So tell me John; Who’s it going to be? Me or her?”

  John looked over the two people before him. There was the beautiful Yoko, the woman he had known for all these years and grown to trust so much. He had known her practically his entire life, the two of them connecting the instant they met. They had shared ideas and thoughts together, even going steady for a while before John broke it off. Now they were back together, and John didn’t know if he could damage their relationship again.

  Then there was Paul, the lovely lad from Rich Man that he had only just met. Even though they hadn’t known each other for too long, John felt as if they had truly been made for each other. Even though a love between two men was seen as wrong in the eyes of the world around them, they loved each other, and they felt there was nothing the world could do about it. John had learned so much about Paul, and he didn’t want to give up on what could be just quite yet.

  “I don’t… I don’t know.” John gulped. His voice was shaky, and he began to over think things. He didn’t want to break anyone’s heart tonight, but he felt that either one of his choices was going to hurt someone somehow. “I need time to think.”

  “John, you’ve had plenty of time to think,” Paul snapped, his eyes narrowed. “I want the answer now. And I’m sure Yoko does, too. We want answers.”

  John swallowed his spit. He had never been so nervous in his life. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, but no matter what he responded, someone was going to end up getting their heart broken.

  “I’ve loved you both at different points in my life,” John spoke, “though now my ideas have completely changed. Because I’m in love. I’m so in love that everything is flip-flopped, my perspective completely changing. I don’t know which way is up, or which way is down. I don’t even know how to stand on my own without thinking of my love. This person made me fall head-over-heels for them, and now they’ve finally fallen for me, and I’ve abused it. And I need to make things right with them. That’s why I’m picking Paul.”

  A huge grin spread across the dancer’s face, running into John’s arms and hugging him close. “I’ve been stupid in the past,” he spoke, still holding John close, “but I’m not stupid anymore. I quit my job at the club, and I’ll never have to work there again. I can make money on my own, support myself. Support our life together. Maybe I can even learn how to read. I need you, John Lennon, and when I was gone, I never stopped loving you. I’ve made terrible mistakes, but I want you to know, I won’t be making any more for as long as I live. I love you, John.”

  “I love you, too, Paul.” John felt tears dripping from his eyes as he held the lovely Paul in his arms. He was so glad the younger lad was now his, and only his. He barely noticed as Yoko grabbed her things and stormed off, annoyed that John had chosen a man over her. He was too excited that Paul was going to be moving in, and that the two of them were going to be living together. They were going to be spending the rest of their lives together, as one another’s, and no one else’s but each other’s.

  As they were together that evening, it was no longer just sex. In fact, it had never been. It had always been making love. The two of their bodies, entangled in a whirlwind of bliss as they satisfied each other’s needs. They were swirled up in ecstasy, experiencing brighter feelings than either of them had ever felt before. As they climaxed, they realized that they felt the way they wanted to stay for the rest of their lives: happy and in love.

  They were married the following summer. A giant festival of flowers and cake was held,  and although only a few guests attended, they were happy. They didn’t need a big wedding to keep them satisfied. They didn’t want big, flashy jewelry or money, either. They had each other, and that was all they really needed.

  Paul eventually learned to read, finding it a great struggle at first but eventually overcoming the challenge. With his new skill, he took up a job in the newspaper business, writing articles about local news events as well as short novels. He was a paperback writer, his dream job since a child. He could finally do all the things he had wanted to do his entire life. And with John by his side, he could do them a happier man.

  In a few years time, and a few stock investments later, the Lennon-McCartney family was making quite a bit of money. They must have invested in something worth investing in, because they soon hit the jackpot. They were now rich, with more money than they could have ever imagined. Despite the increase in their fortune, Paul continued his job in the newspaper business. 

  John quit his dingy little job, finding it easier to become a stay-at-home dad to to the child he and Paul had adopted. They named him Julian, and Paul’s natural parenting instinct took over whenever he was around the child. Having a child was a piece of work for the two of them, but they enjoyed their new life as parents with each other.

  Even though they were satisfied in their lives together, there were rough patches in their relationship. They rarely agreed on anything, and often fought like mad. But overall, it was their love of each other that made them love each other and kept them together. Each day felt as if it were the start of a lovely life together, and every time John gazed in Paul’s eyes, he felt it was the first time he saw the younger lad all over again.

  Life not as a dancer was exciting for Paul, and he enjoyed the free time to the maximum. Eventually, Julian grew up and went to college. He settled down and got married, having children of his own. John and Paul were proud grandparents, visiting their grandkids as often as possible. Soon Paul retired from his job as a writer, and the two of them spent their retirement doing whatever they felt like.

  With some of their money, they bulldozed down the building that used to be a little club by the name of Rich Man. In its place, they built a small park, complete with a colorful garden, filled with flowers. They spent a lot of their retirement in that very park, sitting on the benches and strolling through the garden holding hands. After all, it had been on that very location that they had first laid eyes on each other.

If I Needed Someone - Chapter 4

Title: If I Needed Someone – Chapter 4

Pairing: George/Ringo

Author: sgtpepperrigby

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Ringo has trouble deciding whether or not to confront George about what happened the previous day.

Warnings:  None

Word Count: 1,863

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Beatles, as well as any other people or characters represented in this fan fiction. It is done entirely for entertainment purposes, and I don’t make money off of this, so there’s no reason anyone should say I’m claiming to own them.

Notes: I know I get off topic quite a bit, but I needed stuff to fill in this chapter… I was kind of experiencing writer’s block. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it anyways (:

  Ringo’s mind raced as every individual second passed by. What had that been about? George had just bloody kissed him, and then he walked away as soon as it was over! Now he and Paul were gone, and Ringo didn’t know where they ran off to. What if George was telling Paul terrible things, making up lies? What if he was telling all the others, saying stupid things like that Ringo tried to rape him or something along the lines of that ridiculousness?

  Now panicking, Ringo raced back up the his room. It was empty, but a presence seemed to linger in the room. It felt like someone had been there only moments before. Ringo didn’t see anyone, but as he sat down, the bed felt warm from a human touch. Suddenly the undesirable hit him; what if George had just been here?

  Why would George want to be in my room? he thought, a worried look across his face. Did he want to come find me? No, that wouldn’t make sense. I was in the alley, and it only took me about five minutes to come up here after checking the coffee shop. I guarantee he wouldn’t want to talk to me after something like that. Why would anyone?

For the rest of the day, Ringo stayed as far away from the Beatles as he could. He only saw John and Stu occasionally, dicking around near the coffee shop as well as their room. He hung out with Rory the entire day, the two of them chatting and laughing away as Ringo tried to forget about George.

  He didn’t see either Paul or George until their performance that evening, the two of them acting like nothing had ever happened. Did he tell Paul? Ringo was furious as he watched them performing, scowling from his seat next to Rory. He took another swig of beer, trying to maintain a positive attitude at least on the outside. Why would he drag Paul into this? There is no reason that he needs to know. It’s not like I kissed George; he kissed me. Sure, I wanted to kiss him, but he initially took the action. Nothing is my fault here; it’s all George’s.

Ringo looked over toward Rory, realizing that he was a rather strange man. He wore the craziest clothes, sometimes wearing outfits of all pink. Yet Ringo still stuck with him. There should be no reason for he and George to stop talking over something so small. Tonight, Rory was thankfully wearing an entirely blue suit, and the rest of the group was wearing the same suit in red. They were a crazy group indeed, but they definitely didn’t have the intense amount of drama the Beatles had.

  From what Ringo had heard, that John fellow was a crazy lad. His dad had left him and he had been sent to live with his aunt, and by the time he reconnected with his mum, she died. He had lived a rough life indeed, but that was no reason for him to be a dick to everyone. Paul’s mum had died as well, but when he was younger. Yet Paul was still somewhat nice, besides his occasional stuck-up attitude.

  But George was being a plain asshole, kissing him and then running off. From what Ringo had heard, nothing too bad had happened to him. He had a perfectly fine mum and dad, and plenty of siblings. He hadn’t even been raised in the poor part of Liverpool like Ringo was. So why was George acting so strange?

  The Beatles were an incredible band, Ringo had to give them that. They certainly didn’t need to hide behind past experiences to make them seem cooler. John could get by completely based on talent, but his lack of self-esteem certainly made everyone doubt him. If they hadn’t hid behind that, maybe they would be a bigger band overall. 

  Ringo decided that thinking too much while his blood was infused with alcohol and painkillers. Taking a little picker-upper every now and then before performing was important to him, and he tried not to take too much before each show. He knew for a fact that John took way more than the rest of them, so if anyone was at risk of anything deadly, it would be him and certainly not Ringo.

  Watching the Beatles performing, Ringo couldn’t help staring at George until his stomach felt sick. That young lad from Liverpool was absolutely perfect in every single way. Ringo didn’t know how anyone could be that perfect. Every chord progression he played, every single note and strum of his strings; George was flawless.

  As George was on stage with the other Beatles, jamming away and having a well good time, Ringo couldn’t help but notice how every feature of his was perfectly illuminated in the dim stage lights. His high cheekbones, unblemished and smooth, in the middle of his face, his delicate little nose, perfectly pointed up and flowing into his smooth lips. They were a lovely shade of pinkish-tan, fitting his skin-tone so well. 

  And and on top of it all were George’s eyes. Although George had an incredibly fit body, his eyes were by far the most exciting feature about him. They were deep brown, leaving a haunting impression on whoever dared to stare into them for too long. His thick eyebrows clouded them and shielded whoever tried to look George dead in the eye, but as soon as Ringo had met George, he knew he was an exception. He was one of the few people George returned eye contact with, and he could tell just by looking at him that he was special.

  But as George played on the stage with the others, Ringo realized that although George and he had a connection, there was no way this whole situation was going to be easy. Even though George had kissed him, George wasn’t going to give into the temptation quite yet. Ringo desperately wanted the younger lad, and he would do almost anything to be with him. Unfortunately, George didn’t feel the same way.

  Soon the Beatles had finished playing, and it was Ringo’s turn on stage. He joined Rory and the others and followed them up, awkwardly brushing George’s shoulder as they passed each other. He shuddered at the feeling of George’s touch, practically sprinting over to the drum set and picking up his drum sticks. He didn’t even wait for the others to get set up before twirling them in his fingers, tossing them up in the air. The crowd watched in awe as Ringo began laying a random beat, drumming away with such an intensity that he could tell George was jealous of him.

  He waited until the others had put on their guitar straps and waited until Rory was at the mike, then he stopped drumming like a mad man. He realized at that instant all the attention in the room was on him, the intensity rising. He noticed George’s eyes were on him as well.

  His fingers grasped the sticks tightly, ready to play their first song of the evening. He made brief eye contact with George before screaming the first words to count off their song- “one, two, three, fah!”

  “Hello, George,” Ringo said, a sly smile on his face as he sat across from him in the coffee shop that morning.

  George looked up from his croissant, coffee in his other hand. He had a look of confusion on his face as to why Ringo was actually talking to him. He hadn’t seen Ringo since the previous night, and he hadn’t talked to him for at least twenty-four hours.

  “Hey,” George mumbled back under his breath. Ringo raised an eyebrow. Obviously he wasn’t expecting George to be this anti-social. If anything, he should be the one pissed off. Not George.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said clearly, not minding that John raised an eyebrow at his odd choice of words. “Alone.”

“Oh?” George asked, staring intently at his breakfast rather than the man he was talking to.

  “Mhmm.” Ringo stood up, expecting George to follow him. Of course, the guitarist just ignored him and continued eating his breakfast.

  “Well…?” Ringo asked after an awkward moment of standing there, awaiting George to follow him. “You coming?”

  “Uh, yeah… sure.” George stood up, croissant still in hand. He followed Ringo out the door despite the snickers from John and Stu, ignoring the fact that Pete was trying so hard to copy them and tease him as well.

  George followed Ringo across the street, finishing his croissant and walking up the stairs to Ringo’s room. Although Ringo shared the room with the other Hurricanes, the others were out at the moment, eating breakfast or wandering around town.

  “What did you need to talk about?” George asked, sitting on the edge of Ringo’s bed. Ringo shut the door, bringing up the tension in the room. He stared at George blankly for a moment, his eyes wide and unfocused. Then he must’ve remembered that there was another human in the room and blinked, remembering he was trying to say something to George.

  “Oh… yeah.” Ringo gulped, swallowing his spit. Even though it was just he and George, he was even more nervous. “I have a question.”

  “Yes?” George asked, sinking further into the bed and closing his eyes, absorbing the atmosphere of the room. Even he could tell that Ringo was trying to say something important, and he had only been there for a moment. “Well, out with it then?”

  “Yes.” Ringo sat down on the bed next to George, gazing deeply into his eyes. “I was wondering if you would care to explain what happened yesterday outside the coffee shop.”

  “Oh.” George made a little face, probably out of confusion. “You mean the kiss?”

  The kiss. Why was he being so blunt? “Er, yes. The kiss.”

  There was a pause. “What about it?”

  “Uhm, well… I was wondering if you’d like to explain why it occurred.”

  “Well, I wanted to. And so I did. Is that complicated enough for you?”

  “Why are you being so rude?”

  “I’m being honest.”

  “There had to be more of a reason why you wanted to kiss me.”

  “…Well, I like you.”

  Before Ringo could come up with a response, George dove in, tackling him to the bed and showering him with kisses.

You Really Got a Hold on Me - Chapter 17

Title: You Really Got a Hold on Me - Chapter 17
Pairing: John/Paul, George/Ringo
Author: sgtpepperrigby
Rating: NC-17
George feels bad for ignoring Ringo, so he decides to repay him a favor,
Swearing, mild drug reference, Sexual Situation
 I don’t own the Beatles, and I definitely don’t claim to. The Beatles would kill me if I actually owned them. So don’t worry, this is all made up, I promise.
A/N; The longest chapter I’ve typed so far… this one’s 3,552 words. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I certainly think it’s my favorite so far!

  “Are you sure Brian won’t mind?”

  “The real question is, you sure Brian won’t notice?”

  “Alright, let’s go then.” Ringo smiled at George. George had kept his promise, making this day completely dedicated to him. They were starting the afternoon off with sneaking away to a nearby beach by their hotel.

  The two walked, hand in hand, not caring who saw them. Not that anyone would see them, though, because they beach they were walking to was privately hidden by a gigantic rocky cliff. They were almost certain neither Brian, Paul, John, Mal, or Neil knew that this tiny hidden beach existed. George wrapped his arm around Ringo, still holding Ringo’s hand with the other as they walked to the beach. It took them a while to get there, but they didn’t mind.

  Eventually they reached their private little beach, and George practically leapt off of Ringo, kicking off his shoes and running around in the sand. He sat down, digging his toes in the wet sand by the shoreline. His hands dug into the sand as well, scrunching it in between his fingers in a childlike behavior that Ringo couldn’t help but laugh at.

  He sat down next to George, taking his shoes off as well and digging his feet deep into the sand, letting the waves wash over them and cooling them off. He looked over at George and smiled to himself, tilting his head back and letting the sun beat down on him. George looked so incredible, so beautiful like this. It was just the two of them, with no worries of anyone catching them this time because they were so far away and hidden from the hotel. It felt fantastic.

  Ringo was about to lean in and kiss George like there was no tomorrow, but the younger lad stood up, unbuttoning his shirt as he did so. For a minute, Ringo got excited.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, still lying down in the sand and looking up at George.

  But George didn’t respond. He just threw his shirt next to Ringo and ran into the water, not looking back as he did so. Ringo couldn’t help but laugh at how random George was being, and how childlike he was today.

  George, now waist-deep in the ocean water, turned back to Ringo and smiled. Ringo politely smiled back, still wondering what the hell George was doing. Suddenly, George dove under the water, the smile quickly fading off of Ringo’s face. What the fuck? Did George light up behind my back or something? There’s no way he would get stoned and not tell me. His eyes didn’t look bloodshot…

  As quickly as George had dove under, he was back up, his head bobbing up from the water and breathing in the ocean air like it was a completely new concept to him. George looked Ringo directly in the eyes, a smirk taking over his face. Slowly, his hand rose from the water, George’s shorts grasped tightly in his fingers.

  He’s completely naked under there, Ringo thought, his mind racing and trying to remain calm. I have to join him, I simply have to…

  Ringo stood up, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it behind him. He tried not to look George in the eyes, because that just made him want him even more. His shorts came off after that, and eventually, Ringo was running into the water as fast as he could, naked and ready to be with George.

  “You are so full of surprises today,” Ringo said, wrapping his arms around George’s waist. He looked up and looked him in the eyes, leaning in slowly and kissing him softly.

  “I know,” George said after they pulled away, that same smirk still lighting up his face. “Today is your day, I’m going to make it as spontaneous as possible.” George was about to lean in and kiss Ringo once again, but something popped into his mind and stopped him.

  “Shit,” he said, his hand raking through his hair. “Now that I said I was going to be spontaneous, you’ll know!” he sighed. “God, I’m so stupid sometime!”

  Ringo smiled at him, taking George’s hands in his. “Come on, I’ll probably forget about that in ten minutes or so. We’re in the water, let’s go swimming!”

  George didn’t even respond, he just dove into the water like a dolphin, leaving Ringo wondering what to do. Then George popped up behind Ringo, scaring him by squeezing him around the waist.

  “Christ!” Ringo yelped, George hugging him from behind. “You scared the shit outta me!”

  “Spontaneous!” George said, waving around his hands like jazz hands.

  George splashed Ringo, completely drenching him in the salty sea water.

  “Oh, you sure you wanna do that?” Ringo said jokingly, splashing George back and soaking him equally as much.

  “Yes, I am.” George dove into the water, splashing Ringo back and laughing like crazy. “God, I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” Ringo said, suddenly stopping splashing George and wrapping his arms around him.

  “Follow me,” George said, grabbing Ringo’s hand and running through the water a couple hundred yards, until they reached a section of rocks.

  “What are we doing here?” Ringo asked, looking around at the patch of rocks that now blocked their path.

  George leaned his back on the rocks, his eyes pleadingly looking up at Ringo. “Take me,” he whispered, still looking up at Ringo innocently and biting his lip.

  Ringo didn’t even wait- he dove right into George, kissing down his water-soaked neck and putting his hands on the rock George was leaning against, leaning over George. Their soaking wet bodies pressed up against each other, their hard-ons becoming more prominent as well.

  “I want you,” Ringo whispered into George’s ear, sending chills down his spine.

  “Then come and take me,” George whispered back, smirking and wrapping his legs around Ringo’s waist.

  George spread his legs, kissing down Ringo’s neck as Ringo kissed his forehead. Ringo felt a shift in George’s position, and he realized he was calling for him, waiting for him.

  Ringo slowly guided his hardened cock, trying to find George’s entrance under the water. Eventually finding it, Ringo slowly entered, George letting out a soft moan as he did so.

  “You’re so fucking tight,” he said, trying to shove all of his cock inside of George.

  “We’ve fucked so many times, how is this just happening?” George let out a little laugh, but that laugh turned into a moan as he felt Ringo glide over his prostate.

  Ringo carefully slid all of his cock inside of George, trying to be as gentle as possible, having never fucked in water before and wanting to take all precautions. Gently, Ringo moved his cock in and out of George, the cool ocean water chilling Ringo’s cock as it slid in and out. The water sent shivers down both George and Ringo’s spines, even further intensifying their already fantastic sex.

  “This is fantastic…” George breathed out in between moans. This was by far the best, most incredible feeling sex he’d ever had in his life. Considering most of his sexual encounters were from the other point of view, sex with Ringo automatically beat out all kinds of sex he’d had before. But this was by far the best sex he’d ever had with Ringo as well.

  Ringo shifted his position, not dramatically, but so he could enter George once again with more ease. George squealed out in delight, the feeling of Ringo inside of him more intensifying and erotic than he could handle.

  “I’m gonna cum!” George moaned out, wrapping his arms around Ringo and clinging to him closely. This statement caused Ringo himself to cum inside of George, heavily panting as he finished. The feeling of Ringo releasing himself inside of him, yet being so close to him made him release himself into the ocean water, climbing off of Ringo and hugging him tightly.

  “I love you,” he whispered into Ringo’s ear, kissing and sucking along his neck and biting him softly.

  Ringo bit his lip, obviously still turned on and whispered back. “I love you more than words.”

    “Let’s get out of the water,” George said, forcing himself to pull away from Ringo as he dove through the water, swimming up to the shore.  George walked out of the ocean and onto the sand, water dripping from his still naked body. He smiled, shaking his hair out and drying it off.

  “You coming?” he asked, turning to Ringo. Ringo had completely spaced out in George’s flawless appearance that he forgot where he was.

  Ringo ran out of the water, not as comfortable with his naked body being out in the open as George was. He grabbed his clothes and put them on as quickly as possible, not wanted to be naked in somewhat public anymore.

  “Why such a hurry, luv?” George asked, still dripping wet and showing all for Ringo to see.

  “Well, we’re in public,” Ringo replied, buttoning his shirt and now being completely dressed.

  “But there’s no one around,” George cooed, wrapping his arms around Ringo’s shoulders and leaning in, kissing him passionately and then pulling away, licking his lips.

  “You’re a sex machine today, aren’t you?” Ringo laughed, gliding his fingers through George’s soaked hair.

  “But you love it,” George said with puppy-dog eyes, looking into Ringo’s eyes and turning away shyly as if it were the first time he laid eyes on him.

  “What’s wrong?” Ringo asked, reaching for George’s hand and grasping it tightly.

  “I wish we could be alone like this all the time,” he replied, his expression turning sad. “I love being with just you, I don’t want to go back to the hotel. I don’t want to go back on tour. I can’t hear a bloody word we sing when we’re on stage, and all the birds care about is John and Paul… not that I want the birds, I have you… but I’d like it if I could hear myself think sometimes, ya know? And when it’s just us… I can hear myself think, I can hear my heartbeat, and I can hear our love. We should get away from it every now and then sometimes, just the two of us.”

  Ringo smiled, the beginnings of tears slightly forming in the corners of his eyes from the beauty George’s words were giving off.

  “I want you,” he said in a low, quiet voice, not that it mattered if he was quiet or not.

  “But you just had me,” George said back, laughing half-heartedly at his own little joke.

  George grabbed his pants, which were still quite wet from being worn in the water, and put them back on, lying down in the sand after he did so.

  “We’re not doing this again, George,” Ringo said, laughing at what had happened before.

  “I’m not going to make you fuck me this time,” George said, completely serious. “I want you to make a sandcastle with me.”

  “Well, alright then,” Ringo said, sitting down next to George and wetting his hands in the ocean water, grabbing some wet sand as he did so.

  “I want to make a retro-style castle, ya know?” George was completely serious, taking this sandcastle more seriously than half of his work with John and Paul. “Maybe rounded at the top, but kind of rectangular up until then?”

  “What the fuck?” Ringo said, turning to George. “You are the most random person I think I’ve ever met, you know that?”

  George smiled to himself. “I know. But why else would ya fuck me? Fucking normal people is boring. Don’t see how John and Paul do it.”

  “True.” Ringo began sculpting their sandcastle, creating a moat around the base of it, filling it with water and seashells.

  “Are they together now?”

  “I dunno,” Ringo stopped building for a brief moment to stop and think, before returning to sculpting the base of their castle. “I think they’re definitely fucking around, but I dunno if it’s serious or not.”

  “When are they ever serious?”

  “Very true.”

  “Ritchie, are we serious?”

  “Of course, why wouldn’t you think so?”

  “I thought we were, I was just wonderin’ if you thought so too.”

  “Why wouldn’t I think we were serious?”

  “I’ve never been in a relationship like this before. Thought maybe it was different than it was.”

  “Well it’s not. If it wasn’t serious, then I wouldn’t say I loved you.”

  George smiled. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”


  “Let’s just lie here forever.”

  “I honestly could. I think we should.”

  “Let’s never move, ever. Just stay here, forever.”

  “I could stare at the sunset forever, honestly.”

  It was now sunset, the stars appearing as the sun slowly faded behind the horizon. George and Ringo lay on the beach sand, now completely dry. They held hands, gazing up at the few stars above them and the beautiful pink and orange sunset fading along the ocean.

  “This is so beautiful,” Ringo said, squeezing George’s hand and cuddling closer to him. “I wish there was a way I could capture this kind of moment forever.”

  “I agree… sunset doesn’t last all evening.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know, it sounds beautiful though.”

  “I agree.”

  “Just like you.”

  Ringo laughed. “We’ve gotten to the point in our relationship where we are beyond queer… we’re like, mega-queer. We’re acting like fucking birds.”

  “I know, but honestly, we have to make this moment last. And I know just how.”


  “Well, this is your day, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but what about it?”

  “Well, it’s your day, so you deserve to be treated like royalty, right?”

  “Right, I guess. What do you mean?”

  “Follow me.”

  George stood up, grabbing Ringo’s hand and pulling him up. The two walked, hand in hand, down the beach until they found what George considered a particularly soft patch of sand. He sat down, pulling Ringo down with him.

  “Lie down,” George whispered seductively to Ringo,

  Ringo obeyed, lying on his back on the soft, summer sand. George climbed over him, kissing him on the mouth and allowing his tongue to enter Ringo’s mouth, entering passionately.

  “Mmm,” Ringo moaned out, wrapping his arms around the small of George’s back as George glided up and down Ringo’s body, kissing all over. George ripped off Ringo’s shirt, throwing it in the sand along with all of George’s own clothes. George was now naked, on top of Ringo, and Ringo desperately ripped off his own remaining clothes and threw them with George’s.

  George rolled over, allowing Ringo to be on top, and Ringo took this opportunity to slide down to George’s erection. He began sucking on it intensely, licking the head of George’s cock and teasing him.

  “Dear God…” George moaned out, his hands finding Ringo’s hair and raking through it, desperately grabbing onto something as Ringo sucked him off.

  “Wait,” George said, suddenly stopping Ringo. “I want you to enjoy this, too. It’s your day.”

  “But I am enjoying this,” Ringo pleaded, widening his eyes to guilt George into letting him finish his job.

  “Let me get on top of you,” George said, and Ringo obeyed his every command, lying underneath George and awaiting whatever was about to come.

  George’s fingers found Ringo’s entrance, rubbing around the outside delicately as well as Ringo’s inner thigh. Ringo let out a rather load moan, never having been touched in that area by someone before and enjoying it quite a lot.

  After several minutes of George teasing at Ringo’s entrance, Ringo looked at George pleadingly. “You can enter,” he said, allowing George to finally do what he was waiting for.

  George grabbed his cock, still slightly wet with Ringo’s saliva, and carefully glided it inside of Ringo. Ringo let out a moan of slight pain, never having been entered before.

  “You alright, luv?” George asked, his fingers still rubbing Ringo’s inner thigh and perking up his erection.

  “Yes, maybe when you start moving it’ll feel better.”

  “Trust me, it does.”

  George smiled, pushing even more of his cock inside of Ringo until he was completely inside, but not moving quite yet. Once George was comfortable, and he felt that Ringo was at least somewhat comfortable as well, he began slowly pumping in and out of Ringo, the friction between them incredible.

  “Mmm, do that again,” Ringo moaned out, feeling a different yet amazing feeling inside of him.

  George obeyed, gliding his cock over Ringo’s prostate again and shivering as Ringo moaned out underneath him from sheer pleasure.

  “Speed up,” Ringo called out, his hands finding George and grabbing on to him, every part of him he could grab.

  George moved his cock in and out of Ringo much faster, feeling his own orgasm coming on quite soon. He felt Ringo’s breathing get faster, along with the rhythm of his cock entering Ringo.

  “Dear God!” Ringo cried out, his hands desperately clinging and grasping on to George as his orgasm took over his entire body, shaking him head to toe as he came. George felt Ringo collapse underneath him and came inside the older lad, licking off Ringo’s release, much to Ringo’s delight.

  “I’ve never been fucked before,” Ringo said, smiling, as he put his clothes back on and looked at George.

  “Well, I’ve never fucked you before,” George laughed back, changing into his clothes as well.

  “I want you,” Ringo’s facial expression turned seductive instantly, looking up at George with his big, blue eyes.

  “I need you,” George said back, biting his lip with satisfaction and slowly blinking, not wanting this memory of Ringo to fade away.

  “Let’s walk back down the beach, maybe we could find something else wonderful,” Ringo said, grabbing George’s hand as the two walked back down the beach in the direction of their hotel.

  “Do you think we’ll get married?” George suddenly asked as the two continued walking along the ocean.

  “I hope,” Ringo said, his voice truly showing he was full of hope. “Maybe someday it’ll be legal.”

  “I don’t get why it isn’t at least legal to be queer.” George’s brow furrowed. “I don’t mind not getting married. I just want the world to know I love you.”

  “I love you too, but do you really think it’s best if the fans knew?” Ringo knew he had said something wrong almost immediately. “Might hurt sales, ya know?”

  “I don’t care too much for money,” George quoted. “Money can’t buy me love.”

  “True, true,” Ringo laughed, wrapping his arm around George’s waist as they walked, slowly nearing the hotel.

  “I still wish we could be married,” George said, continuing the subject. “In secret would be nice.”

  “That would be rather nice,” Ringo said, closing his eyes as they walked and thinking. “Then the fans wouldn’t know, but we could still get married.”

  “There’s always Vegas,” George joked. “Or bloody Hamburg.”

  “Ah, Hamburg… so many memories.”

  “We first got to know each other there, didn’t we?”

  “Yes, you guys were the Quarrymen then, eh?”

  “You know, I don’t even remember… we were probably the Silver Beatles.”


  “And you were with Rory Storm and the Hurricanes.”

  “Yes, I was a hurricane, I remember, George.”

  “I bet a honker like that could start a hurricane on its own.”

  “Hey!” Ringo called out, playfully shoving George.

  “I’m just joking!” George called out. “Acting a little like John, havin’ some fun.”

  “I could make fun of your quietness or something.”

  “I saw the opportunity and I had to grab it. How could you make fun of me being quiet?”

  “I dunno…” Ringo laughed.

  Soon the two found themselves nearing their hotel room. As they walked down the hallway to their hotel room, covered in sand and saltwater, George noticed the clock read nine in the evening. This meant that they had been gone nearly ten hours, not letting Brian know they had left. John or Paul must have known something was going on, they probably told Brian… Brian is going to kill us…

  George followed Ringo into their hotel room, closing the door behind them and following him into the bedroom. Ringo collapsed on his bed, spreading his arms and legs out like a snowman.

  “Ey, make room for me!” George called out, shoving Ringo and lying down next to him.

  “Tired?” Ringo asked, scooting over so George could lie down and lying down next to him.

  “A little, had a fantastic day today. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Ringo smiled. “I dunno.”

  “I love you, Rings.”

  “I love you too, Georgie.”

  Within minutes, the two lovers who were wrapped in each other’s arms fell asleep, their breathing slowing as they drifted off into their dreams of each other. 

Behind Blue Eyes - Chapter 4

Title: Behind Blue Eyes

Author: SgtPepperRigby

Pairing: John/Paul

Rating: PG-13, not even

Warnings:  None, really. Cuteness between John and Paul (:

Word Count: 2,248

Summary: The story of John and Paul told through the eyes of their beloved drummer, Ringo.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Beatles, as well as any other Beatle-related characters in this fan fiction. I’m just writing it for fun, so don’t ever believe that I am trying to take credit for them.

Notes: I’ve decided that apologizing for short chapters is going to be pointless during the writing of this fic, as all the chapters will be pretty short compared to others I’ve written in the past. Also, I’m reading Wonderful Tonight, so I’m kind of stuck in a no-dialogue rut. Hopefully you all won’t care. Enjoy. Comments are love.

  Oh, and yes, I watched the actual Ed Sullivan footage while writing this up. Yes, Ringo did look pretty pissed off about something during half the performance. And John and George did give each other that little look during “She Loves You.” As for John and Paul, when aren’t they looking at each other?

  February 9th, 1964

  Perhaps the most exciting day of my life happened in early 1964. We had arrived at JFK in New York only two days before, and the new American air was still fresh on our tongues. We were big in America, which was something very difficult for British celebrities to obtain. Fame was hard in your own country, but once you stepped out if it, you were lucky if someone knew who you were.

  We were to be playing on the famed Ed Sullivan show that evening, a famed event that I even I’m aware of is probably still talked about. At the time, we never thought being on a simple American show could bring us such fame. Being a celebrity is something every child always dreamed of, and now I would actually have the change to become one. We were already pretty big in the U.K. Now it was only a question of whether or not the Americans would like us.

  When we stepped off the plane on February 7th, we were not prepared for the near thousands of fans waiting outside of our airplane. Security wasn’t as tight then, so the fans had plain view of us. Of course gates were put up so they wouldn’t leap and attack us. John had brought Cynthia, but none of the fans knew of their marriage, so to them, she was simply some lucky girl who worked with us.

  I was a little weirded out when I found out Cyn was coming with us. I immediately jumped to Paul’s defense. Why had John brought her? I mean, of course, they were married. Any sane man would bring his wife alone. But John wasn’t sane. In fact, I had caught him swapping spit with a certain Mr. McCartney only a few short months ago. And I was almost one hundred percent positive I had heard what was John and Paul’s private bedroom sessions on numerous occasions. Wouldn’t John want to be alone with his secret lover?

  I honestly felt bad for the two of them. They were lovers far before Cyn, and now a Beatle-wife was being dragged into this. It was terrible, really. Since we were in a new country, there would be fans at every corner. There would be reporters constantly harassing them, and when we were alone in our hotel rooms, Brian or Neil or someone would come in and bother us some more. It was is John and Paul couldn’t get an ounce of alone time.

  But on the other hand, I thought what they were doing was something that shouldn’t be done. It wasn’t them being queer that I was wrong with. Brian was queer, and we all loved him just the same. It was the fact that they were queer with each other. I had known them since our days in Hamburg, which obviously wasn’t as long as they had known each other, but I still felt uncomfortable with their whole situation. John was probably one of the most tough men I had ever met, let alone befriended. And now I was in a bloody band with him, getting to know him better day by day. That was exactly why I was put off when I had seen him snogging who he called his ‘best mate’ in the hallway nearly a year ago. And shagged on a near-weekly basis.

  Besides the odd John-Paul situation, I was enjoying America. George and I were becoming closer and closer, and I was really enjoying his company. He was a kind lad, always there for ya if you needed help with anything. He was quiet, but it didn’t matter much. It was better than being in the awkwardly tense situations I was put in when stuck with just John and Paul. Thankfully I didn’t play the guitar. Otherwise, I’d be up in the front of the stage with the two of them while they sang and made eye contact, giggling their lyrics and secretly flirting onstage. Poor George. If only he knew.

  Getting ready to go on national TV was quite the heart-stopper. We were all pretty scared, but I think I was the most nervous. I was the drummer, so I’d be practically sweating after the show, unlike the guitarists who got to just bop up and down while their fingers formed chords and notes. I ‘m not saying what they were doing is easy. Believe me, I’ve tried guitar, and I’d much rather stick to my drums. Probably because I was made for them. But, back to my point, I was going to be the most out-of-breath afterwards. And anyways, I was the newest member to the band. I hadn’t even been in in two years yet. What if I messed up for whatever reason?

  I shook off every nervous thought that crossed my mind. Of course you won’t mess up, you bloody idiot! You’re a Beatle! Being in band with three other such incredibly talented men had put me off sometimes, but overall, it had boosted my confidence. I felt much more proud of my gigantic nose, an insecurity of mine for years. I had even met a lovely gal named Maureen, who had been a regular at the Cavern Club before our days of fame in America. She was sweet, down-to-earth, and was a traditional Liverpudlian girl. We had been going steady for a little while as well.

  When the lights of the cameras brightened up, we were all a little nervous. It wasn’t like we’d never performed in front of a group before. But something about being filmed for television was extra nerve-wracking. Television was also still a fairly new concept at that time. The Ed Sullivan show was widely watched by fans nationwide. That meant that millions of people would be tuning in to watch us, four simple boys from Liverpool. It was an experience I’ll never forget.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the Beatles!” The booming voice of Ed Sullivan called out, and we began with Paul’s count-off into one of our newer songs, “All My Loving.” I looked around at the audience of screaming teenage girls, trying my best to smile and look as nice as possible on camera. It was difficult, as I was quite distracted. For starters, George was tapping his foot like a madman, and it was very hard to focus on anything else. But John and Paul were also making the most obvious contact while performing.

  Paul was natural. Put him in front of a camera and he bursts out with the smiles, his eyes glistening beneath his perfectly-plucked eyebrows. When George and John shared a microphone to sing a bunch of “oohs” behind Paul’s main vocal, I could just tell Paul was glancing at the guitarists jealously. He was a very good actor when it came to facial expressions, however, so I doubted the fans would even notice. Then George performed a little guitar solo, simple compared to his later works but still impressive for such a youngster, and then he joined Paul’s microphone. Now they were both singing lead. Technically, his voice was overpowered by Paul’s. But still, he and Paul were sharing a microphone, and now John was jealous.

  Then George was back at John’s microphone stand, Paul trying his best to hide his jealousy once more. Then Paul finished his last few notes, John’s guitar taking a different tune than it had before, and George still playing and smiling in his usual awkward way at the camera. I couldn’t see their faces from my position, but I could just tell from behind what their expressions were like. I must have looked awful at that point, because I could feel sweat already beginning to bead at my forehead. I probably looked miserable as well. I suffered through it and we continued on to the next song.

  Next was “Till there was you,” which was another Paul-sung song. This one was a bit slower than “All My Loving,” though, which meant I could sort of slack off in the drumming department. I still felt nearly nauseous, though, and I had a feeling that the cameramen probably weren’t showing me because of that. I felt sick to my stomach, and I had no idea why. Was it the bright lights? The screaming fans? Or maybe it was because we were on national television? I sighed, hoping no microphone picked that up. Was it because I didn’t particularly like this song? No, that couldn’t be it…

  At this point I saw the camera facing me, so I smiled with my mouth half-open and continued on drumming like the cute little man the fans saw me as. I then noticed the cameras turning towards George, and my smile practically melted as I focused on the easy drumming pattern I was currently playing, originally done on bongos. Eventually the song was over, and we started our third song for the evening, a big hit, “She Loves You.”

  Now, the drums weren’t too hard on this song, but they were definitely harder than the drums from “Till There Was You.” In this song, both John and Paul sang lead. Even Georgie got harmony vocal. I smiled during this one, knowing that this was a happy song, and if I didn’t, it’d look like I was the depressed drummer shoved way in the back. Paul and George shared a microphone for the intro, and I actually caught John jealously glancing over at them for a second before focusing once more on his playing. But John was squinting like mad, his poor eyesight getting the better of him. I felt bad. First, his lover with his fellow band mate playing together away from him, sharing a microphone, and now, he couldn’t even see the audience before him.

  During the chorus I bit my lip and shook by head around like madman, my hair flailing everywhere. For some reason the audience started screaming like crazy. Was it because of me? Certainly not. I was the drummer, way in the back. Everyone was paying attention to John or Paul. But apparently, they were cheering for me. I smiled the entire rest of the performance.

  Now John and Paul were smiling, too. I caught them both looking at each other at the same time and grinning wildly. But then I caught John looking at George and they burst out into matching grins, and I was confused. Were John and George…? No. If anything, two Beatles were queer. Not three.

  We soon finished “She Loves You,” and the crowd went mad. The screaming birds were crazy for us. Even Ed Sullivan clapped. To America, we were an attractive group of foreign musicians with incredible musical skills and dreamy accents. What wasn’t to love?

  We rushed off stage as Ed began talking to the audience about God knows what. George simple shot me a look that read, “Oh my God, we did it!” before putting his guitar down and running away to his dressing room. I was taking a little longer to recover, still tired and sweaty from the bright cameras and stage lights. I was slow to walk backstage, and thankfully, my slowness actually benefitted me today. I was something I’d never forget.

  “You were amazing, Johnny,” Paul said, and I could tell he was smiling. His voice was seductive and more sexual than I had ever heard him talk. At first, I didn’t think it was him, or I at least wasn’t hearing him right. But then I rounded the corner, making sure not to be seen, and sure enough, there was Paul, backing John against the wall.

  “You were, too,” John cooed back, his hand finding its way into Paul’s hair, his fingers becoming entangled in his dark brown locks.

  And like that, their little embrace was more than it should have been, John’s lips diving into Paul’s, colliding with such an intense force that even I felt it. Paul’s arms were wrapped around John’s shoulders, John’s hands in turn on Paul’s waist. Their kiss lasted a few more seconds before they broke away, giggling as they looked around to make sure no one had seen. I ducked, running away quietly back to my dressing room. And that was when I knew for a fact that Lennon-McCartney was more than just a songwriting partnership.