>>SHAME<<

>>a feeling of guilt, regret, or sadness that you have because you know you have done something wrong<<

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nine hundred words?? double definition?? what??

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ringo was starting to have second thoughts.

maybe he was blind? maybe george was cheating on him?

ringo regretted yelling at him but john really did hurt him. he loved george, george loved him back. he even bought him simba for fucks sake.

but he still called him an asshole. and he really, really wished that he could take the last ten seconds of his life back.

but ringo knew better than to go running back because he knew john was fucking pissed at him and probably drinking beer like water right now. and even satan was afraid of a drunk and angry john lennon.

god, he needed another drink.

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and soon enough, he was drunk. not exactly drunk-wasted but enough to loosen up with george at the dancefloor. he drank and george drank and they moved on the dancefloor. but every now and then, ringo's mind kept going back to john. surely he wasn't literally drinking himself to death now, was he?

george seemed like he was a little drunk as well, because at the rate of how quick his hands were getting at ringo was starting to get uncomfortable. and george's kisses down his neck started to turn into painful bites and ringo couldn't help but try wiggling out of his arms.

"stop," he cried out when george bit down his collarbone. "geo stop! stop, fuck, ow! george!"

he must've taken his little cry of pain as for pleasure, because his hold on him tightened and, fuck, was george seriously groping him right now?

maybe john was right.. maybe george was a shitty boyfriend.

but he loved him still. even if he really wanted to slap him.

"george stop! i'm fucking serious, stop!" ringo sighed shakily. "i don't like this, george."

he smirked. "you're right. we should move into a bedroom for fuck's sake. get it? fuck's sake?"

okay so george wasn't just tipsy. because the george ringo knew cracked really innapropriate jokes only when he was fucking drunk.

"i don't want to spend our first time fucking whilst drunk, george." ringo shot, glaring at him.

george frowned. "what's got your knickers in a twist? oh come on, loosen up ritch!"

"i'm gonna go find john." he muttered under his breath, about to get out of the dancefloor when george yanked his hand back. "george what---"

"you aren't going after that asshole, now are you?" george growled, a jealous and a probably territorial glint in his eyes. "i'm starting to question your so-called friendship as he started acting like a jealous guy."

"i--- we--- we aren't like that!" ringo cried, looking at him with disbelief. "are we seriously going to have this argument again?"

"i don't like the way he looks at you!"

"well, elaborate the way he looks at me then?" ringo sassed, lifting his head, a scowl set in his face.

"he fucking wants you."

"bullshite!" ringo yelled but he was drowned out by the music. "george, out of all the people, you should know that! you know what? this is getting ridiculous, i'm going to find john. and we're going home!"

george flared up. "see what i mean?! for all i think, you guys must be fucking behind my back!"

"maybe you're the one fucking behind my back!" ringo retorted, the unbelievable urge to slap him intensifying.

"just friends my ass." george muttered but ringo heard it. "he wants you and you want him back!" he accused. "you just want to deny it!"

and that was when ringo really did slap him.

at first, he didn't believe it. and george probably did too. but the aching throb in his left hand the red-hand print on george's left cheek proved otherwise.

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to say that today was the worst day of ringo's life was an understatement.

and he was curled up in the bathroom, trying to calm himself down.

fuck, why the hell is this happening to him?

he wanted, no, he needed john. he needed his warm presence, he needed his lopsided smile and he needed john winston fucking lennon in general.

he needed john.

and he needed him badly.

and he didn't fucking care if john really did had secret feelings for him.

he just really needed him.

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>>INTOXICATED<<

>>affected by alcohol or drugs ; especially<<

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as if the fates were kind, at the exact time ringo was having some sort of mental breakdown in the bathroom, john had the urge to piss.

of course, having the urge to pee after drinking shot after shot was inevitable.

he heard a soft, sniffling sound from one of the stalls and knocked on it.

"hello?"

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ringo's breath hitched.

"j-john?" he rasped out, quickly wiping the stupid tears away with the back of his hand. "j-john is that you?"

"ritchie?"

"yes?"

"can you... can you open the door?"

ringo stood on his wobbly legs and unlocked it. he shut his eyes tight, preparing himself for for john's words to hurl at him.

but he really didn't expect the the warm hug.

"i love you," john spoke like he was he drugged but ringo could still understand him. "i love you, i love you, i love you,"

ringo's heart skipped a beat when his words sank in. but he could smell the alcohol on him.

"john are you... drunk?" he whispered, face falling a bit.

"not drunk enough to forget my feelings for you," he slurred, holding him tighter, his nose pressed in ringo's brown hair. "i love you." he said more properly, and ringo buried his face in his chest so he wouldn't see how hard he was blushing.

"i... i-i love you too." ringo smiled. "let's go home and cuddle with simba, yeah?"

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okay okay this was a mess sorry about that

wow it hasn't been 25 chapters. i feel like this story's dragging too much. hbu? is the pace okay?

all the love,

~Grac.e