Summary: John and Brian get drunk at a pub. As the night goes on, Brian ruminates on his feelings towards John. [Lennstein; PG-13 for implied past abuse, a bit of homophobic language (nothing too serious), and some sensuality towards the end]

1963

Before this trip, John thought that Brian was the type that, if he got drunk at all, probably enjoyed a nice glass of wine while sitting by the fireplace.

What John got instead was a guy who'd spent the past several minutes getting progressively drunk on Scotch. It was a surprise, but a pleasant one, nonetheless. He could see how Eppy opened up just a little bit more, as he grew more blushy and giggly. Of course, John trusted Eppy to take care of himself, but Brian had insisted on John being there. John didn't mind of course, this being as good an excuse as any to get drunk.

As usual, John couldn't help but notice how Brian would sometimes stare at him but turn away the second John looked him in the eye. It was rather endearing, really. Of course, every time John thought this, he would try to tell himself that he wasn't in any way queer, and that he just enjoyed Brian's company. Tonight, however, John found it increasingly hard to convince himself of that.

Meanwhile, Brian was on his fourth glass of scotch, staring at the back of John's head. He couldn't deny to himself right now that he did have feelings for the young lad. Brian always stopped himself from saying anything. He knew that even if he were worthy of love, he knew he could never be with John. For one thing, it was highly unprofessional to even consider having feelings towards someone under his charge, let alone act on them. And that wasn't even considering the fact that even if it wasn't illegal in Spain, it certainly was back in England. He'd faced arrest before- been lucky to get two years' probation at that- but his social standing was so much more precarious now. If he got arrested again, it wasn't just his family that would get caught up in the carnage. It would also be the four young lads he was now managing.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by John's hand on his shoulder, causing a surge of excitement. As much as Brian loathed these feelings, he was also a slave to them, and he knew it. "Let's get out of here, yeah?" John said.

Brian nodded, gathering his jacket. As they were leaving the pub, Brian could only stare at the back of John's head. He couldn't help but chuckle at how he could easily stare at John's physique but dared not look him in the eye.

Oh, how sickeningly ironic.

Their hotel wasn't far away- maybe a hundred yards or so at most, but to Brian, it felt like they may as well have been miles away. It didn't help that he was starting to stumble a bit. John caught him, and he couldn't help but laugh at that, but inside, he was wondering if he was finally starting to lose his mind. You were the one who decided to invite him, he reminded himself.

"You know, Brian," John started, "you're rather more fun than I initially took you for."

"You thought I was a-a fucking pompous ass?" Brian teased.

"See? You're cussing now. Never thought I'd hear that from you, you poof."

"John, I would like to think I'm not that stuck up." Brian giggled a bit, more than a bit surprised at his seeming lack of inhibition, but once again, he found himself unable to run from the fears that John would never speak to him again, or that he'd insult him again. Brian could live with the latter, but the idea of John hating him was very frightening indeed.

He knew it was his own fault for falling for John as opposed to any other man. But then again, comparatively speaking, John had treated him kinder than most other men he'd come across. Though, considering all the nights he'd been left bruised, bloody and in tears, it was a rather low bar to begin with.

He stumbled again, and John caught him again. In between giggles and drunken hiccups, Brian said, "Thanks John."

"Hey, don't mention it."

Brian allowed himself a smile, but he refused to forget how highly unprofessional all this was. Part of him wanted to forget the propriety for a change, but the other part of him just knew it was the scotch talking.

They got back to the hotel not long after. Brian collapsed onto the bed, by now having lapsed into hysterical laughter. Meanwhile, John had taken possession of a cigarette and said, "Hey, I'll be back in a bit, okay?"

"Okay," Brian said.

As he watched John step out on the balcony, Brian was left lying flat on his back. And then as the minutes passed, Brian's mood quickly soured. He loathed everything about this. He knew if he were actually given a choice, he wouldn't change being homosexual, but god almighty if it wasn't so damn hard sometimes. He just knew that he was doomed. Doomed to always be alone, to be in love with someone he could never have, to have next to no meaningful relationships in his life. He'd already been hurt so many times in more ways than he cared to remember, and he knew that John's words and actions could be poisonous at times. At the same time though, John was the only man he'd had deep feelings for that hadn't left him bloodied or anything of a similar nature.

By the time John returned, Brian was a sobbing wreck on the bed.

Normally, John was far from the type to be comforting or caring, especially when he was already sloshed. But John was more confused than anything, given he'd just lugged his hysterical manager from the bar to the hotel. "Eppy? What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's nothing," Brian said, desperately wiping at his eyes with the back of his arm.

"It ain't nothing, you dandy."

For the hundredth time that night, Brian cursed himself.

Carefully, John sat Brian up on the bed, wrapping his left arm around Brian's waist. "You can talk to me, y'know."

"That's the thing. I'm already being an unprofessional, overemotional bastard as-is. ...I don't need you to hate me."

"Why the fuck would I hate you?"

"I..." Brian stopped himself. Drunk as he was, he had no intention of telling John how he truly felt.

And yet, it slipped out anyway.

"I-I love you, John."

John didn't think he'd seen Eppy so red. Not even on days where Brian had been absolutely pissed with him (not the easiest thing to achieve to begin with).

Brian continued, "I love you, even though I know how stupid it all is. You're married, for one, and don't get me started on everything else..."

John was still at a loss for words. This was probably the most vulnerable he'd ever seen Brian- he was very pitiable, in fact- but instead of thinking of a good insult, John found himself running his fingers through Eppy's hairs, watching as his curls settled on his forehead in an ever-increasing disarray.

Finally, he said, "I know."

Brian sat right up and looked at John in shock. He knew John probably didn't reciprocate- he'd be very surprised, considering John was already with Cynthia and not to mention Julian had been born just weeks before- but that acknowledgement made his heart stop for a moment or two.

"You think I haven't noticed how you can't even look me dead in the eyes most the fucking time?"

Brian let out a light scoff. He knew he should have realized just how fucking obvious he'd been.

Several moments passed in an awkward silence, with Brian wondering if he'd still managed to fuck everything up. And then, John kissed him on the lips. It was quick, but Brian knew if he'd died of a heart attack right there and then, it wouldn't be the worst way to go out. Hell, he wouldn't mind dying a happy man.

John pulled away, giving Brian a healthy chance to manage to look John dead in the eyes, blue eyes meeting brown. And then John kissed him again and again, at times lightly biting his lower lip. Brian certainly had no objections, even though the more rational part of his brain was screaming at him about how bloody unprofessional this was.

Again, John stopped, and all too soon.

"You do realize this would never work even if it were legal back home, right?" Brian found himself stammering out.

"I know," John said. "But no one back home ever has to know, so quit being a bloody spoilsport, okay?"

Brian nodded, letting out a light chuckle in the process. Part of Brian wondered how all of this could feel so wrong and yet sort of right at the same time. At the same time though, he wanted John's company right now more than anything, and that was more than enough. 

A/N: Alright, so first thing's first, comments, votes, and constructive criticism are all very much appreciated (flaming is not though).

Second, I did take some details of Brian's life (namely the past abuse and that he likes Scotch) from Mark Lewisohn's book, Tune In. It's very long, but I do keep hearing he's one of the most reliable Beatles biographers, so I'd highly recommend you read it if you haven't already.

And lastly, I fear I'm already making it quite obvious that one of my go-to ships in this fandom is Lennstein. Ah well, I'm starved for content involving those two, and so I'm just filling that niche myself. Unintentional references to Sgt. Pepper's and everything.

Anyways, I do hope you guys enjoyed that. I don't know if I'll have something done in time for Christmas, but I do hope to at least make an attempt at that after finals end.