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Any Time At All	By : JaimeBlue Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Beatles Views: 3407 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of The Beatles. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Any Time At All
- 1
Title: Any Time At All
Author: JaimeBlue
Fandom: RPS - The Beatles
Category: First-time, comedy
Rating: R
Pairing: George/Ringo
Disclaimer: What, you actually thought *I* owned The Beatles? I wish! And if you think this is meant as disrespectful, think again — I only slash the ones I love.
Summary: A lonely night and hotel room noises prove to be a powerful combination.

Author's Note: Special thanks go to Mako for being my Beta for this story. I told you I was easy to Beta for, eh! :)

*****

*Thump, thump, thump.*

George Harrison slammed his pillow over his face, trying to drown out the sound of banging from the other side of the hotel room wall. Even through the material, he was able to make out an "ooh" and an "ahh" coming from the next room.

Didn't Paul and John ever give it a rest? he couldn't help but think.

"Christ, don't they ever get tired?" the voice of his roommate, whom he'd thought was blissfully asleep, rang through the room.

George chuckled and pulled the pillow from his face. "Thanks, Ring. I thought I was suffering alone here."

"Nah, it sounds like Paul's doing a bit of suffering too," Ringo Starr joked as a wail was heard from the other side of the wall. "You think they ever remember our rooms are always next door to each other?"

"Nah, that would take brain power, something they seem to lack whenever they're together."

A few more thumps were heard against the wall and Ringo groaned. "And it wouldn't be so bad if it weren't so damned frustrating, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that even when there aren't any birds around, they've still got each other, day in, day out. Makes me kind of jealous, you know?"

George sat up in his bed and looked across the dark room to where his friend lay. One of the things he'd always appreciated about Ringo was his sense of humour, but sometimes when they were alone, the other man would let his more serious side take over — much as it was now. "I know, Ring. You think maybe if we told them we know about what they do when they think we haven't a clue that they'd try to cut it down?"

"Nah, John's too much of an exhibitionist to let that stop ‘im. And even then, they would still act the same way around each other, giggling as if they're managing to keep a secret from us."

"Well, I'll always be here for you, man. You know that."

Ringo rose up onto his elbows and looked over at his friend as if for the first time. "Thanks. You know the same goes for you, eh George?"

"Always, Ring. Now, try and get some sleep."

George lay back down and pulled the blanket over his shoulders. He rolled onto his side, trying to empty his mind in an effort to encourage sleep. A soft moan drifted through the wall causing him to groan silently in both complaint and frustration.

He nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked behind him to see a vulnerable look in Ringo's eyes, which were but centimetres away from his own. "George, I-I don't want to sleep alone tonight."

George nodded and moved over in the bed, lifting the blanket so that Ringo could get in next to him. To his surprise, his friend wrapped an arm around his waist in a tight hug. He smoothed the hair back from Ringo's face as it was tucked into his chest. It shouldn't have surprised him that the loneliness of being on tour was getting to his friend. People often thought that their lives were easy, and that loneliness was impossible in the company of so many girls clamouring for their attention. Only the four of them truly understood what it was to be a Beatle — the fame and loneliness alike.

Both men's heads lifted as an "Oh, Baby!" was shouted from the next room. Their eyes lowered slowly and met. All of a sudden, George felt much more aware of Ringo's body lying next to his own. He shifted unconsciously, his hip accidentally brushing against that of his friend.

"They're, um, having quite a time over there, aren't they."

"Mmm hmm."

They remained still for several moments before Ringo slowly moved forward to press his lips against his friend's. George's eyes widened in shock at the pleasant sensation, and his lips felt strangely bereft when Ringo finally pulled away.

"Ring, what are we doing?"

"Playing Scrabble." Both men burst into nervous laughter, cut short when Ringo moved in to capture George's lips. Their arms unconsciously tightened around each other as their hungry lips moved against each other. "Please, George," Ringo whispered when they broke apart for breath. "Be with me, just for tonight."

George was afraid, not of what he knew they were about to do, but afraid one night wouldn't be enough — for himself, at least. However, he could see the same concern in his friend's eyes and decided that whatever happened, they would get through it.

George's hands moved to cup Ringo's face, pulling their lips together as he rolled over his friend's body. Frantic hands reached for his pyjama top and began undoing the buttons as his own hands slipped down Ringo's neck and into the collar of his own night clothes.

Everything but the feel of the other and the harshness of each others' breathing was drowned out of their senses as they finally rid each other of all obstructive clothing. Naked skin fit against naked skin, hands exploring and memorizing every sensation as their cocks pressed tightly together. Both men began moving to a nameless tune, and they moaned as they were carried closer and closer to the edge...

* * *

"Oh, that was so good."

"Macca, you've got a gift for understatement, you bastard. Pass me that fag over there, will ‘ya?" The cigarette was passed and lit up. John Lennon took a deep drag before continuing. "So, we done for tonight?"

"Oh yeah, I think that's more than enough for one night." Paul McCartney rose from the bed, picking up the pen and paper that had lain on his lap. "What're we gonna call this one, anyway?"

"I dunno. Let's sing it over in the morning and see if a title comes to us. I'm too beat to think anymore."

"Well, maybe it has something to do with the way you keep jumping around in bed whenever you've got an idea for a lyric or chord change. You keep that up and George and Ringo are gonna start thinking things."

"Let them think what they like, I'm going to sleep. Night Macca."

Both men settled into their own beds and turned out the light. After a few moments, a low moan was heard from the other room.

Paul sighed. "‘Bout fucking time they start writing their own damned songs."

The End
- 1
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Any Time At All