"I saw that."

Ringo jumped.

"Mo?"

The little girl ran down the stairs, pink dress swishing over her knees.

"Who was he? Is he your boyfriend? Why did you kiss him?"

Ringo clamped a hand on her mouth. "Not too loud! Mum'll hear!"

Maureen gave him a glare, tugging his hand off. "She's sleeping, Ritchie! Now answer my questions, bubba."

Ringo chuckled at her bossiness. "Yes, her majesty. But let me fix my things first---"

"You're dodging the question!" Maureen whined.

He ruffled her hair, making her shriek in horror.

"My hair!" She drummed her tiny fists on his back. "You blue meanie!"

"Okay, okay." Ringo laughed. She barely hurt him. "The bloke's name is George Harrison."

She stopped. "George?" She broke into a wide grin. "Do I have to call him bubba too?"

Ringo blushed. "What do you mean by that, Mo?"

She shrugged, mischief glinting  in her eyes.

"Why did you kiss his face? Do you like him?"

Ringo sighed.

"Maybe."

Maureen frowned. "Maybe?"

"I-I..."

Maureen giggled. "You're blushing, Ritchie."

"Am not." Ringo huffed, biting his lip. "I... I kinda like him."

Maureen nudged him. "Kinda?"

Ringo laughed. "I mean, he's good looking..."

"Who's good looking?" Elsie mumbled, walking down the stairs in her evening gown.

Ringo gulped. "Mum---"

"You are!" Maureen saved, making Ringo sigh in relief. "You're good looking!"

Elsie flushed. "Oh darling, thank you." She beamed, going off to the kitchen.

Maureen gave Ringo a triumphant grin. Ringo grinned back.

He laughed. "You're the greatest, Mo."

••••

"She loves you yeah, yeah yeah--- George!"

He jumped. "W-What?"

Paul frowned. "You missed the cue."

George looked down, flushing in embarrasment.

He never missed the cue.

John sighed, clasping an arm on his mate's shoulder.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Geo." John said. "Let's try again, shall we?"

••••

Ringo woke up, about to rush over to the bathroom when he realized:

It was a Saturday.

He didn't have school and, most of all, he didn't have tutor lessons.

With a sigh, he dove back into the covers, wanting to sleep again.

Ringo was about to doze off when pictures of a certain teddy boy with fangs popped up in his head.

Why did he agree to tutor him again?

••••

George's Saturday was mostly consisted of band practice and eating.

A day in life of George Harrison.

Sunday finally came, and Pete Best offered the three of them some weed. In one condition.

They were going to smoke it behind the church.

It was a risky move, of course. But George could care less about the town priest, Father McKenzie, catching them as they smoked Mary Jane behind the church.

"I'm gonna take a piss," George muttered. Paul gave him a nod and continued smoking on the joint.

Turning, he bumped into someone.

"Hey! Watch where you're going---" He froze. "Ringo?"

"I-I uh..." He stumbled out. "H-Hey?"

Ringo was biting his lip again.

"C'mere." He uttered, yanking the collar of his shirt.

Dressed in his Sunday's best.

"Ow! George, that's my best shirt!" Ringo protested as the teddy boy practically dragged him to an empty stall. "George---" He winced as George pinned him, forcing him down to sit on the toilet. Ringo gave him an annoyed look, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck, George wanted him to bite it for him.

"What is this?" He demanded, trying to look threatening. His big, blue eyes didn't help much.

George smirked. "You look so cute when you're mad." He didn't know where the boost of courage came from. Maybe from the Mary Jane, perhaps?

Ringo furrowed his eyebrows, a lovely shade of red spreading over his cheeks. He uttered a squeak when George kissed his cheek.

Fuck, he was adorable.

And George hoped he was a forgiving person. Because what he would do next would completely go against Ringo's morals as a Christian.

••••

Ringo felt George's lips on his.

At first, he struggled, trying to push him away with his hands placed firmly on his chest, on his tattered leather jacket.

Then he gave in.

Ringo gasped when he bit down on his lip. That gave George time to slip his tongue in.

He felt his tongue rub against his. He felt his tongue go around his mouth. He felt George lick his mouth, practically taste his mouth. Ringo gripped his jacket, not knowing if he wanted to shove him away or pull him closer.

He shoved him away.

An alarmed look flashed in George's face. Then hurt. Then Ringo regretted it.

"Look I..." George trailed off, jaw tight. "Ringo I---"

He didn't get to finish when Ringo's lips met his again. George kissed back roughly, pressing Ringo against the cold, tiled walls of the church bathroom. His hands gripped his waist and Ringo snaked his arms around his neck.

And if there was one thing Ringo discovered about himself was that he liked kissing George. He liked kissing him very, very much.