Author's Note: I know it sounds needy but, could you please leave some feedback? I appreciate comments about my writing and I know the plot is shite but yeah comments are encouraged.

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Ringo didn't flinch when John lunged at Paul and captured his lips, taking the younger off guard. He actually felt supportive. He felt happy for them. Especially Paul. Who seemed to love John who was pretty content smothering his lips.

"Take it upstairs instead!" George joked, a mishievous grin forming in his lips.

"I might need that ice pack, Rings. I wanna press it on his cheek so it'l get better." A similar smile formed in Paul's face. "And maybe some few kisses as well?"

"It'll be nice if you don't hit me afterwards," John grumbled. "I don't need anymore bruises on my handsome face."

"Handsome face my ass," Ringo muttered under his breathe. George heard it and he stifled a laugh.

"I heard that!"

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The pair went back to the kitchen. George heated their leftover while Ringo made a cuppa of hot chocolate. He blew and took a sip, watching George make another sandwich, his plate already empty. George glanced at him and nodded at his sandwich. Ringo sighed and took a bite. He already felt stuffed just by eating a quarter of it. That and the hot chocolate. George managed to gulp down a serving in just a blink. He wanted to refuse it but he knew very well that he need some kind of nourishment. Even if it's just two slices of bread, some ham, cheese, and veggies. Also George wouldn't allow it.

After the first sandwich George made him another.

"I don't think I could finish it," He whined weakly, a bit nauseous already.

"You're as thin as me. Probably even thinner! You need to eat, Rings. Please?" George said, his voice tender and caring and his accent was just, oh, Ringo's stupid heart fluttered. Fluttered. As if there's no more utterly embarrasing mushy words to describe it.

He cursed under his breath and took a bit. George uttered a little 'hurrah!' and sipped from Ringo's hot chocolate without warning.

"Hey!" George gave him an amused look before sipping half of the cup. Ringo watched his adam's apple bob as he drank. He saw George give him a wink before he handed it to the other. He licked his lips clear of chocolate milk. Ringo looked at the wall instead as he drank, finding the blank yellow wall suddenly interesting. He gave him a weird look. Then, like a baseball to the face, he realized that he was sipping the exact place where George's lips were on.

George seemed to be on to something (no pun intended) and grinned slightly. Ringo saw his fangs and drank his cup hastily and set it down. He licked his lips as a challenged. George bit his lip. He saw something glint in his eyes and he shivered on how dark his eyes were. As if he was in some trance or something. Any other way, he looked hot. Hot. Dangerously hot. As if he'd pounce or something.

He stepped closer and closer and Ringo backed up until he was against the wall. Ringo was overwhelmed by how George, the quietest and youngest of them, seemed to have control over him. And god he liked it. Dirty scenarios flashed in his mind. A soft whimper escaped his lips. The smaller quickly slapped his hand on his mouth. His cheeks flamed red.

He groaned low and deep Ringo stifled a whimper. "Ritchie..."

He was pressed against the wall and their noses bumped and their lips were oh so close then Ringo

slowly pushed him away, palms wide like his eyes and spread on his chest. George blinked and his "trance" slowly melted away. His cheeks turned pink.

"Oh uhm... I-I'm sorry," He stuttered. Ringo avoided his gaze and cleared his throat.

"I-I... It's fine," He gave him a fake chuckle. "I, erm, gotta go to the loo..."

George looked like he was punched in the gut. "I... Err sure..."

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In the bathroom, Ringo was mentally screaming at himself like he wasn't insane enough.

He almost pulled his hair out in frustration. He was acting like a fucking bird for God's sake!

Ringo groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. He shouldn't feel like this towards him! Not that he had any problem with gays but George... George was straight, last time he checked. Perfectly straight. And he wouldn't want him that way. Ringo was fucked-up in the head and George was a perfectly sane angel that's always there for him. Until a while ago in the kitchen George looked more like an incubus than an angel.

He felt hot. And he whimpered. He fucking whimpered and he felt so weak and helpless and he loved it.

Mindlessly, he ghosted a hand over his pants. He pretended it was George's hand that was touching him.

"A-Ah..." He stifled a cry. He gripped the edge of the sink.

And that was when Ringo knew he was fucked.

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George was brooding in the kitchen, munching on Ringo's barely-eaten sandwich as he glared at the poor, innocent mug.

"That cup might melt under the pressure of your glare, Georgie."

He turned to see a sexually satisfied John. No really, his hair was messy and his lips were red and bruised and there was a really evident hickey just under his ear.

George shrugged. "You made up with Paul, I suppose? You "forgiven" him?"

John grinned like a cat. "In more ways than one."

"Spare me your adventures, John and leave me be." George grumbled and went back to laying his head down on the wooden table.

John, being the good friend he was, didn't listen to the guitarist and pulled a chair right next to him.

"What the hell happened to you two?" John asked, leaning against the table and propping his chin with his hands just like George did.

"I advanced at the wrong moment. I-I..." He halted for a bit. "I-I think I was a bit pushy with him..." He said, tracing the rim of the mug with his fingers. "I wanted to... kiss him but he, erm, pushed me away."

"He's probably just shocked, Gear. It ain't everyday another bloke who happens to be your bandmate tries to kiss you." John said. It was ironic because that was the reason he argued with Paul.

"But... But I saw that he wanted it he erm..." He sighed, defeated. "Maybe he was just a bit shocked. I was making him a sandwich then the next thing I'll do is corner him into the wall and kiss him---"

"You cornered him into the wall?" John gawked. "No wonder he was shocked, you getting all dominant like that!"

Heat rose up in George's cheeks. "I wasn't dominant! I was lost in the moment, okay? I wanted to kiss him and I got carried away!" He said, raising his hands in defense.

John didn't seem to listen anymore. "I can't believe it... George Harrison, a dominant!"

"Shhhhh!"

"GEORGE HARRISON IS A---- mmphh!"

Paul popped out from the doorway. He, too, looked equally fucked. His lips were swollen red.

"George Harrison is a what, luv?" He looked around. "And where's Ringo?"

John slapped George's hand away and gave him a grin. "George scared him away because he was too dom on him! He even cornered him into the wall!"

"What?!"

George was practically beet red by then. "I didn't want to!"

Paul had pulled a chair right next to John's. "You probably wanted it, you sly bastard." He grinned. "Now tell me everything."

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I swear John and Paul are like a pair of rabbits in heat 😅

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Love you all,

~Grace 💜💜💜