"Hey, Georgie," Ringo greeted as he slid into a chair beside George the morning after they were awoken by Paul screaming in his sleep. There was an untouched bowl of cereal sitting in front of George and Ringo frowned. "What's wrong, mate? You seem a bit down.. Why haven't you eaten?"

     "Not hungry," George shrugged.

     Ringo laughed. "Good one, Georgie."

     George looked at him with a hard stare.

     Ringo's face fell almost instantly as he realized George was serious, and he clamped a hand down tightly on George's shoulder. "Oh, God, are you okay? Are you sick? Do you need me to drive you to a hospital?"

     "No, I'm fine, just..just listen.." George said and he told Ringo about the night before, when they had gone to John and Paul's room to investigate the horrific screams coming from within. He told him how he'd seen John kneeling at Paul's bedside, his fingers intertwined with the bassist's. And how John had looked directly at him and seen him looking.

     "What do you think it means?" Ringo furrowed his brows.

     "Don't know," George shook his head. "Well, I've got an idea, that's for sure, but I just don't know. I mean..John and paul don't really seem like the type, do they?"

     Ringo shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, Brian doesn't necessarily seem like 'the type' and he's gay, so... Maybe they are?"

     George opened his mouth to say something, but Ringo quickly shushed him when he heard footsteps coming toward the kitchen. He looked up to see John entering the room. "Morning, Johnny," he said. "How is he?"

John just shook his head in response as he began making tea. "I don't know.. I mean, he's not very good, that's for sure. He's got a pretty high fever, still, and he just keeps saying these weird nonsense things like..like he keeps insisting that I died and that nothing has been normal for a long time. It's really weird."

"It'll probably stop once his fever breaks," George said.

"Yeah, he's probably just having hallucinations," Ringo nodded in agreement. "I mean..what else could it be?"

John shook his head again and put some bread in the toaster. "Nothing else, I suppose. You're right, it's just that I'm worried about him. I don't like seeing him like this."

"Neither do we, John," George said. "But he's just sick. He'll get better."

John nodded. "Yeah, I know." He sighed, putting a tea bag in a teacup and pouring the water he'd just boiled. The bread popped out of the toaster, now crispy on the outside and golden brown. John put the toast on a plate and picked up the teacup. "Well, I'm going to look after him."

"Okay," George nodded.

"Let us know if there's any change," Ringo said.

"I will," John promised, then left the kitchen and headed back to the bedroom he shared with Paul.

     The moment he was out of earshot, George and Ringo dipped their heads low once more, leaning in toward each other. "I guess it's possible they're dating.." George admitted. "Really very possible, actually. They've lived together for a while, after all. They're inseparable, practically joined at the hip."

     "Yeah," Ringo agreed. "So..should we say something?"

     "No," George said quickly. "No no no. What if we're wrong? Then what?"

    "Yeah, you're right, we should just keep quiet for now." Ringo said. "Until we're certain."

~~~

     Hours and hours later, in the dead of night, Ringo woke up with a dry throat. He got out of bed and tiptoed out of the room, so as not to wake George. Out of the room and down the hallway he went, but when he was halfway there he heard something.

     John and Paul were on the sofa, Paul playing a guitar.

     Ringo quickly dove behind the bathroom door that stood ajar, trying to steady his breathing that had spiked so that it wasn't so loud.

     Then, Paul began to sing.

     "It feels so right now, hold me tight
Tell me I'm the only one
And then I might
Never be the lonely one
So hold me tight, tonight, tonight,
It's you, you you you oooo oooo,

Hold me tight
Let me go on loving you
Tonight tonight
Making love to only you
So hold me tight, tonight, tonight
It's you, you you you oooo oooo,

Don't know what it means to hold you tight
Being here alone tonight with you
It feels so right now, feels so right now

Hold me tight
Tell me I'm the only one
And then I might
Never be the only one
So hold me tight, tonight, tonight
It's you, you you you oooo oooo,

Don't know what it means to hold you tight
Being here alone tonight with you
It feels so right now, feels so right now,"

Hold me tight
Let me go on loving you
Tonight, tonight
Making love to only you
So hold me tight, tonight, tonight
It's you, you you you oooo oooo
You oooo."

"I love it, Paul," Ringo heard John whisper. A few moments passed, and everything was silent save the soft and gentle thud of Paul's guitar being sat down. But then John spoke again, "Hey, love, don't cry."

     Ringo took a chance, peeking around the bathroom door and he saw John pulling Paul into a tight hug. "Don't cry. I really do love it." He kissed the top of Paul's head, and before Ringo could see or hear anymore he crept back to his room faster than he knew was possible.

     He made sure to close the door softly behind him, but once it was shut, he ran and leapt on top of George.

     "AAAH— mph!!" George's surprised yelp was  quickly muffled by Ringo's hand over his mouth.

     "Shut the hell up because you will never believe what I just overheard," Ringo hissed.

~~~

     It was a few weeks later that George and Ringo left the recording studio before John and Paul did. They sat in their room for a while in silence, George trying to take a nap and Ringo reading a magazine.

     Eventually, George gave up on sleeping and said that he was going to use the bathroom. He left the room and was walking down the hallway when he heard voices coming from Paul and John's room.

     Oh, they must be home, George thought, and he reached out his hand to knock on the door.

     Before he got the chance, though, he heard John's voice; "Tonight was wonderful."

     Oh... So that's why they didn't come home with us.. George thought, his eyes growing wide with realization.

There was a small pause before Paul responded. "Mm.. Yeah, it was.." Then there was a second pause before Paul laughed. "You, my love, are positively insatiable,"

"Well with a boyfriend like you, who can blame me?"

     And that was all it took to have George running from the door, bursting into into his and Ringo's room and slamming the door shut behind himself. His breathing was heavy, his heart was racing, and he bent over with his hands in his knees and tried to catch his breath.

     "Georgie, you okay?" Ringo looked up, confused, setting down the magazine he'd been looking through.

     "You — will — never — believe — what — I — just — heard." George said said, gasping for breath in between every word.

     Ringo's eyes grew wide. "Paul and John?"

     George nodded, slowing down his breathing and finally taking deep, calming breaths before he went on. "I passed by their door and they were talking and John called Paul his boyfriend.. His — we were right! Oh my god, they're dating..."

     "This is some weird shit, George," Ringo shook his head. "What now? We know we're right.. Should we say something?"

     "I don't know," George frowned. "I'm kind of getting a sneaking suspicion that we're not supposed to know about this."

     "Probably not," Ringo matched George's frown. "But it's not like we're going to, like, yell at them or hate them or anything, or tell anyone. Shouldn't we tell them that we know and tell them that we don't care?"

     "Maybe," George admitted. "I mean, they probably think that if we ever found out we'd hate them or something."

     "Probably," Ringo nodded.

     "Let's keep quiet, though," George said. "Just for now."

     "Alright.."

~~~

    A couple months later, the Beatles were visiting America to perform a few concerts. They were at a crowed party one night and George was in a bathroom stall. He was just about to unlock the door and walk out of the stall when two pairs of footsteps hurried into the room.

"Paul," one voice said slowly.

     Oh, shit. George thought.

"Yes?" Said a second voice.

     Shit shit shit. George thought.

"Would you mind telling me what the hell we're doing in a bathroom?" John asked.

     SHIT. George was extremely freaked out.

"Well, we couldn't exactly do this out there, now, could we?" Paul replied.

     Oh, no, George thought. No no no. This is so not happening to me. Two of my best friends are so not going to have sex while I'm hiding here in this bathroom stall and CAN HEAR THE WHOLE BLOODY THING!

"Come on," Paul said to John pleadingly. "This is a good song."

     Wait, what? George was taken aback.

John sighed, and George peered through the crack in the stall to see John winding his arms around Paul's waist and Paul wrapping his arms around John's neck. "Yeah, it is.." John said and George thought that he saw a warm smile on his face. George kept watching them, feeling rather like a creepy stalker, and Paul and John began to sway back and forth.

"Wise men say only fools rush in," Paul sang.
"but I can't help falling in love with you
Shall I stay
would it be a sin
If I can't help falling in love with you."

"Like a river flows surely to the sea," John took over.
"Darling so it goes
some things are meant to be
take my hand, take my whole life too
for I can't help falling in love with you."

"Like a river flows surely to the sea," they sang together.
"Darling so it goes
some things are meant to be
take my hand, take my whole life too
for I can't help falling in love with you
for I can't help falling in love with you."

Paul smiled as the song ended and rested his head on John's shoulder.

     George sighed inwardly. This was terrible, just terrible. He obviously wasn't supposed to see that, anyone could walk in and see John and Paul, George was stuck in that stall for God only knows how long, and his nose really itched, okay?!

"You know anyone could walk in right now and see us," John said, chuckling. "And then we'd be exposed."

"Well, that's just a risk that I'm willing to take," Paul said and pecked a kiss on John's lips.

     George sighed inwardly again thought that he could at least scratch his nose.

"I love — "

Crash!

John and Paul leapt apart, and George stood frozen in the stall. He slowly looked down at his left hand, which had just banged hard into the metal toilet paper dispenser and was now throbbing.

"Paul, let's get out of here," John said, grabbing his arm. "Come on. Now." And the two of them hurried from the room.

     Are you fucking kidding me? George huffed in his head. I can't even scratch my nose right? And now my hand hurts! UGH! WORST NIGHT EVER!

     He hurried out of the bathroom and into the crowded room. His cheeks were warm to the touch, and he was holding his painfully throbbing hand to his chest. He maneuvered around the party guests until he found the person he was looking for.

     "Ringo!!"

     Ringo looked up and grinned at his friend. "George! What's up? Wait..what's wrong?  You look like you've just seen a ghost, are you okay? What's up with your hand, mate?"

     George got close to Ringo and whispered to him to avoid being overheard by any eavesdroppers. He told Ringo about what he had witnessed in the bathroom and how he had banged his hand into the toilet paper dispenser and how Paula and John had hearted scattered and how his hand really really hurt now.

     "Oh my god," was all Ringo could think to say when George was finished telling his story.

     "I know," George said, wincing in pain as he tried to readjust his hand. "I definitely wasn't supposed to see that, and I'm kind of getting a little worried about them. If they're going to go out in public and do these things, they're going to get caught. What if someone had walked in and saw them? What if it hadn't been me in that stall?"

     "They're idiots, that's for sure," Ringo said. "Oh, here they come."

    George looked up and sure enough, Paul and John were hurrying over to the two of them. "Hey, Georgie, what happened?" John laughed.

"I, erm, I — uh — " George blushed even harder when John pointed out his red cheeks, which wasn't helping him out at all. He didn't miss the way that Paul looked at him, squinting his eyes a bit in confusion.

     He knows, George thought. He knows it was me in that bathroom stall!!

"He got kissed," Ringo slapped George on the back and laughed as he came to his friend's rescue. "By a real live woman."

George just blushed and turned an even darker shade of red. He had never been so grateful to have Richard Starkey as his best friend.

"Very nice," John clapped his hands, nodding slowly. "But I kind of meant what the hell happened to your hand since you're holding it against your chest like you shattered all the bones in it?"

      Ugh, what now? George thought.

"Oh, I, uh, banged it." He said lamely.

"Oh," John said.

"I'm going to get a drink. Be back in a bit." Paul said, quite suddenly and hurried away. John just frowned after him in a concerned kind of way, and Ringo and George both opened their mouths to ask if something was wrong with Paul, but they quickly snapped their mouths shut. They both knew all too well that there was.

     "I'm going to go get a drink or something," John murmured and walked away from George and Ringo.

     Once he was out of earshot, Ringo looked to George with an exasperated expression. "Seriously, George? I come up with that piece of gold excuse and you say, 'I, uh, banged it'? You could have said something really cool like the girl you kissed broke your hand or something but you said that you banged it. Ugh."

     George just laughed.

~~~

     It was months later, after George had gotten X-Rays, been told his hand was severely fractured, been put in a cast, and had the cast taken off that he had to pee at around three in the morning and was walking down the hallway when he John's voice coming from John and Paul's room.

     He knew that he should run away from that door. After all, the last time he overheard John and Paul having a private conversation he couldn't play the guitar for almost five months because of a seriously injured hand. But this was George Harrison we're talking about, so instead of running away from the door, he got closer.

"Sorry," George heard Paul say, "I just had to pee."

    He stopped for a minute and thought about how he hadn't heard Paul get up to go to the bathroom, and he hadn't heard him going back to his bedroom. George shrugged, not thinking much of it.

"'S okay," John said in a tired voice.

"I love you," Paul said.

     And then George found himself smiling.

"I know.. You do know that I know that, don't you?"

  "Yeah. Of course. Why do you ask?"

     George furrowed his brows.

"Because you tend to say it at random times an awful lot," John said. "It's not like I mind, it's just... You know that I know, right?"

"Yes, I know," Paul said and George could practically hear the soft, gentle, warm smile that was surely spreading across Paul's face, taking over every one of his features and lighting them up. "I just like telling you, that's all."

Then George was smiling again and his heart was melting, and he realized something; in all of those months since he and Ringo had figured out that Paul and John were not only gay, but dating one another, they'd only been worried about how they were going to tell them or if they were going to tell them and they'd forgotten to stop and see something beautiful.

     John and Paul loved each other. Like, they were really truly in love.. And that was beautiful.

"I love you, too, Macca." John said.

     George turned and walked back to his bedroom. He closed the door behind himself, then sat down on the edge of Ringo's bed and shook his friend awake.

     Ringo woke with a start. "Ah!!"

     "Ringo, we need to talk," George said.

    "Hmmm? What's wrong, George?" Ringo sighed tiredly.

     George told Ringo all about what he'd just heard from John and Paul's room and what he had realized and Ringo stared back at him.

     "Wow," Ringo said when George was finished. "They really, like, love each other."

     "Yeah," George nodded and smiled. "Maybe..maybe it doesn't matter if they know. Maybe we should just wait until they're ready to tell us on their own, and if that's never then so be it. But maybe it only matters that they have each other and that they love each other."

     Ringo smiled, too. "Yeah. Maybe."

~~~

    Later in 1964, when Ringo and George were lying awake late one night, unable to sleep, they heard certain...noises...coming from Paul and John's room.

     "Are they serious right now?" Ringo huffed.

     "They're getting on my very last nerve right now," George groaned.

     "Screw this whole 'they love each other and that's all that matters' shit we've had going on," Ringo rolled over and flopped down onto his stomach. "In about five seconds I'm going to march in there and tell them to shut the fuck up. I want to sleep!" He pressed his face into his pillow.

     "Do they really think we can't hear them?" George whined.

    "Idiots," Ringo said, his voice muffled by the pillow. "They're absolute idiots."

~~~

     In the months that followed, they overheard John and Paul having sex more than once, they walked in on them kissing and writing love songs (only narrowly avoiding their gazes as they rushed from the room), they overheard them having private conversations, and every time they would sigh and tell themselves that enough was enough and it was time to tell John and Paul that they knew.

     They never did, of course.

     Then, in May of 1965, they walked in through the front door of the flat to find them kissing, and John and Paul looked up with wide eyes and mouths agape.

     George and Ringo glanced at one another, smirking, with looks that said, "Finally!!"