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George cussed as he tried to get the mouth just right. He had to admit he wasn’t the best painter but at least he tried.
When he finally was satisfied with it, he put the diary down, looking down on at it. The drawings were of two guys fucking. He was the guy on the top, with a shorter man under him. The man under him had his eyes closed and his mouth open. His beard looked perfect and his hair was a mess. It was a guy named Ringo. George had barley talked to the him since whenever he tried, he would always becoming a blushing mess. He had no problems talking to the rest of Ringo’s band, Rory and the Hurricanes, but Ringo was never possible. Even when Ringo approached him first, George would go numb. This often to led to George avoiding Ringo from now and then.
But if Ringo found Georges diary, it would be him who avoided George.
Georges diary was full of the most raunchiest drawings and wet dreams of well, Ringo and him. It wasn’t just that, some very cute scenarios. His favourite was one with them as a carnival, eating spun sugar in a Ferris wheel, making out when done. He held the diary close to his heart and if anyone found the diary, he would be doomed.
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The door slammed open, revealing his bandmates. George quickly hid the diary under his pillow, sadly too late though. “ho ho ho, what do you have there Georgie boy?” John asked, trying to snatch the book. “It’s nothing!” George shouted back, grabbing the book, pressing it against his chest. “we’re not gonna get even a peek from your little diary?” Pete teased, reaching out for the book. “little Georgie pockie don’t want to share his little crushes” Paul joked, jumping up on the top bunk on the bunkbed on the other side of the tiny room.
Their room here in Hamburg was far from comfortable. It originally was a closet who someone had just thrown two bunkbeds in. The closet was also behind a porno cinema, meaning they heard porn showings every day.
“We’re gonna go out eat, you wanna join baby beatle?” Paul asked. “First, I’m just 8 months younger than you, and second, no, I need alone time” George said, putting his diary back under the pillow. “good luck finding alone time in Hamburg man” Pete said, walking out. The rest of the band, except George followed him and soon the youngest member was alone once again.
He quickly pulled out his diary. He flipped through the pages. The feeling that what he did with painting Ringo in different sexual situations was weird and downright creepy, but he didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t ask the man out because he was short the man was straight. And even if he weren’t straight, how could George ask him out if he couldn’t even say hi?
He skipped through to one of the softer stories. He was laying on a couch with Ringo in his arms. He would sing love songs to the beautiful man in his arms, occasionally they would kiss and giggle at how cheesy it all was. There was a painting there too, Ringo in a big sweater. It was one of the more chill drawings. George closed the diary again and pressed it tightly against his chest before he put it back under the pillow before jumping down from his bed on the top bunk and walked outside.
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He ordered a hamburger to go from a diner and got back out on the street again. Some female hookers eyed him up and down, posing in more sexual poses. It just made George roll his eyes. He was gay, queer, homosexual, whatever you wanted to call it. But of course, the hookers didn’t know that.
He nearly dropped his burger when he felt a hand on his shoulder “hello George!” a familiar voice said. George tensed but before going numb over the man in front of him. Ringo. He was dressed in his iconic pink suit, smiling widely. “How are you?” the man asked, smiling widely. George took another bite of his burger, feeling his heart beat like the drums Ringo would play so beautifully, he hoped his sweating wasn’t showing. “We have a gig tonight, you’re coming, right?” Ringo asked, looking into Georges eyes with his big, baby blue eyes. George tried to make himself say something, not just act like a total idiot. “mhm” was all he got out. Ringos smile got even wider “perfect! I’ll see you tonight!” Ringo said before giving George a quick clap on his shoulder and run over the street.
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When George got back, he heard laughter.
He swung the door open to reveal his three bandmates with his diary. John looked up “damn, now I know why you can’t talk to Rory’s drummer, you wanna put your dick in him” John joked. “’he moans as he rides me, he’s tied up’ seriously George this is straight up porn” Pete teased. George ripped the diary from him and jumped up on the top bunk. “oh Ringo, oh George” Paul fakemoaned “come on it’s cute that you have a crush, George”. “but you think that between you two, little baby George, you would top” John said. “fuck you” George mumbled, hiding his face in the pillow, trying to hide the tears that fell down his cheeks. “come on George, Rory’s gig starting soon, don’t wanna miss yur boyfrieeeeend” Pete joked. “fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you” George mumbled. “suit yourself” John said.
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George heard the other three leave. He pressed the diary close to his chest, feeling the tears spill down. He opened the book and flipped through the pages. George bit his lip, looking through his drawings. He knew it probably was wrong to write and draw this, but it was gonna be private, maybe Ringo if they actually started dating, but probably never to anyone.
The evening was spent for George by crying, wondering if Ringo missed him there at the show. Then he couldn’t help but to think about Ringo after the show, sweating, hot, smiling. George felt bad but also felt his member grow hard. He listened closely if his bandmates coming getting back. When he heard nothing but porn from the other side of the wall from the cinema, he unzipped his pants.
He grabbed his member, holding in a moan. He flipped through the pages in the diary, finally finding one of the more raunchy drawings. Ringo tied up with George over him. He stroked his member, moaning, imagining that it wasn’t his own hand but Ringo’s who touched him. He pumped faster, feeling his himself getting close.
George let out a moan as he came. “fuck” he whispered. He wasn’t afraid the other would smell something, well weird. The cinema basically smelled of sex and cum all the time, they had gotten used to it after the first week.
George opened the door to the male bathroom. They barley had showers, just one spunky one that only had cold water, but it worked and that was what mattered. George however screeched when he stepped in, he never got used to that.
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“Georgieee, your boyfriend missed you! He asked you where you were?” Paul shouted as he and the rest walked in. George himself pretended to sleep, he definitely didn’t feel like talking to his mates for now. “it smells like cum in here” Pete mumbled. “when doesn’t it smell like cum in here?” John joked. George pressed his eyes closed, wondering why he had to be stuck with just them.
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George groaned trying to get his hair look good. The rest of the band would get that classic rockabilly, Elvis hair while Georges only looked spiky and just stood up. He needed it to look good tonight. Paul had said last night that Ringo had missed him. He had put on his cleanest jeans and his favourite shirt, a blue buttoned shirt. A leatherjacket on that and he hoped Ringo would think that he was a snack.
“you ready to go and see you babe?” Pete asked. “you dressed up a little extra for him?” Paul teased. “shut up” George whispered. “come on guys, lets go!” John shouted before slamming the door after himself. Pete and Paul looked at each other with big smirks before following the oldest member. George wondered for a moment what it was all about before following them.
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While on their way to the bar where the gig was held, George could see John hiding something inside his leatherjacket. George assumed that it was a bottle of liquor that he was gonna try to bring into the bar, something that had happened a couple of times.
The band seemed extra cheery and talkative today with George. They joked and chatted, George was happy that they didn’t treat him like he was the baby like they usually did.
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The gig was great, and Ringo looked amazing. Sweaty and smiling, hitting those drums.
After the show, George was dragged backstage. Rory and the Hurricanes were drinking beer back there, handing drinks over to The Beatles too. Ringo looked so hot. He had taken off his jacket and was not wearing only his pants, shirt, west and tie. George was sure he was drooling as Ringo walked up to him. “where were you yesterday? I thought you were coming” Ringo said, giving George one of those gorgeous smiles. George opened his mouth, just to close it once again. “I-I’m-“ George couldn’t finish the sentence before turning around and nearly running away. He locked himself into the bathroom, taking a deep breath, trying to calm down.
Finally after growing some balls, he walked out of there and back backstage. There he saw the biggest nightmare ever. John and Ringo were talking. Well that wasn’t the bad part was. The bad part was that Ringo was flickering through a diary, Georges diary. John commented on stuff now and then, Ringo only nodding as an answer. George tried to read Ringo’s face, but it was impossible. He tried to build up encouragement, but he didn’t know what to say, he just stood there like an idiot, like frozen to the ground.
When Ringo sat down, with the diary in his lap, George could finally move. But it was the most idiotic move ever. He rushed over, sitting down in Ringo’s lap. Before processing anything, he pressed his lips against Ringo’s. He pulled away, opening his mouth to explain. But before he could come up with something, he just ran away.
Away from the bar, away from Ringo, away from his own stupidiness. He felt tears spurting down his face. Holy fuck he was an idiot.
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It’s been three days since the incident. George had barley left the bed under those days. He refused to go to gigs and even when they own had gigs.
It was one of those evenings, when the rest of the band was playing, that someone knocked on the door. George didn’t bother to open. He heard the door open, stupid door that didn’t have a lock.
“Hi George” the voice made George want to become invisible. Ringo climbed up on the topbunk “so-“. George sat up “no I get that it’s weird, drawing you in those situations but I can’t fucking talk to you and the whole band thinks I’m the baby, I can’t do anything!” George shouted. Ringo nodded “you’re talking to me now….”. George opened his mouth to answer but closed it again. “well I was weirded out by your diary first, and I thought about it and you’re a teenager, I mean you’re 17, you’re full of hormones and just because you act upon it that way, maybe I shouldn’t judge you”. George hid his face in his hands “I should’ve asked you out, but I was so scared of you saying no, if I even grew the balls to talk to you”. Ringo sighed “George don’t feel bad, for your information I would’ve said yes”. George looked up, cheeks stale and warm from all the tears “really?”. Ringo nodded “yeah, but let’s take it slow, before we get into, well this” he said, holding up Georges diary who he had brought with him. George took back the diary, putting it back under his pillow “it’s dirty dreams, who I am idiot enough to write down, and draw”. Ringo smiled “we all have dirty dreams, it’s natural, just people don’t draw or write it down, but we’re humans. We can take it slow, wanna go out for a hamburger?”. George nodded “I would love to”. Ringo smiled “perfect, let’s split a milkshake”