“John?”

The man turned back in a tight, crowded cloakroom for the Ministry workers.

“Listen... “ George kept his voice low, but he felt comfortable in a crowd and an omnipresent noise with a small possibility that someone was eavesdropping him. “I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have said that… you were partially right.”

Lennon looked at him, wondering if he should forgive him and finally smiled and patted Harrison’s back. “It’s alright, lad.”

George smiled — truly. He really wanted his friend’s forgiveness. Maybe John was annoying, but they’ve known each other since forever, and he didn’t want to lose their friendship.

And he met Ringo thanks to him.

One point for you, Lennon.

There was no doubt, not even a little — he was head over heels in love. The blue-eyed man couldn't leave his mind and George wondered when could they meet again.

His lover.

They were together.

The love was an unfamiliar concept to Harrison; he knew it only from Shakespeare’s books, translated into the newspeak and some old stories he’s heard here and there from people. But he wasn’t really aware of its power — until it hit him and knocked him down. The most powerful feeling, now he knew. That’s why the Party killed it, tore it apart and left to disappear from this world.

“Can we meet with my friend, with a bottle of Gin? You know him, Starkey, you were the one to introduce him to me,” George said casually, but John quickly caught an allusion.

“You can come to me. I need help with my renovations anyway.” The answer was also casual.

“Alright. Tomorrow, after work?”

“Yeah.”

“Goodbye then.”

Harrison came back home and finished the paperwork, thinking about Richard. He watched the telescreen and smoked a cigarette, thinking about Richard. He fell asleep into dreams where Richard’s eyes dispersed the darkness.

The man woke up, happy and excited for a meeting like a preschooler for a candy.

Everything was like a blur — his work, telling Ringo news about the meeting, watching slow clock’s arms.

A few hours later they finally met at John’s and went to the place George knew so well for so many years. Lennon had to truly trust Starkey, for he told him about the Brotherhood and invited the man to his hidden place. It wasn’t a secret that John had a good nose for people though.

John sat in the middle of an attic, George against the wall. Richard stood up for a while, watching around and then gasped in amazement.

“Oh… you’ve got a guitar.”

Lennon nodded. “You have no idea how much it cost me to buy it.”

“Can I play on it? Try at least.”

“Of course.”

For the first, George felt a twinge of jealousy because the man had never let HIM play, but then remembered he’d always refused to even hold it, and he felt like an idiot.

The oldest one held the instrument carefully, like the most precious artifact that could break down into ashes by the gentlest touch. Finally, he hit the strings shyly, making a gentle sound. Ringo had no experience in playing the guitar, but he tried and it ended up very well. Like if he was meant to use this instrument, to turn every chord into beauty.

Harrison was listening in a delight, because of a music and because of Starkey’s sweet face, focused on playing. Even Lennon seemed surprised.

When Richard finished and gave the instrument back to John, the younger man clapped his hands happily. “It was great!”

“Thanks,” the blue-eyed man reddened a bit.

Their friend watched them curiously for a moment and then, totally casually, asked, with typical Lennonish tact:

“You and Richard… there’s something going on between you two… you’re queers, right?”

George had an attack of coughing, Starkey opened his eyes wide. They had no idea what to say, shocked that John figured them out so quickly. If he did it, maybe others also knew?

“How… how do you know?” said Harrison.

“Duh,” house owner shrugged. “For the first, you never wanted to hear me play… and then you listen to him in a fascination. Second, they way you look at each other. Now call me Sherlock.”

“Oh God…” Ringo seemed panicked. “What if… what if… everyone guessed it, too?”

“I don’t think so. You control yourselves well in public, or at least I see it like this. You only let it out when you’re alone. Y’know, this special kind of look.”

Thoughtcrime is one thing. But love, especially homosexual love is more serious, more dangerous and more controversial. “And… you’ve got nothing against it?”

“Nah. Why would I? Every riot is a good riot.”

“It’s not only about riot,” said Starkey harshly; Harrison remained silent.

“So what?”

“About love. Real love.”

John looked like he wanted to argue, but gave up, shrugging, picked up his guitar and started to play. The song he probably wrote on his own, the song he wanted to hum all day, but couldn’t. George sighed, listening, listening truly for the first time and letting music into his heart, and laid his head on Starkey’s chest. The smaller man hugged him, stroking lover’s head.

The chaotic chords turned soon into a tender melody and Lennon started to sing:

If the rain comes they run and hide their heads.

They might as well be dead

If the rain comes,

If the rain cs.

Ringo kissed the top of head of his lover. George smiled, not caring about John watching. Everyone drowned in their own worlds; world of music, feelings, love.

When the sun shines, they slip into the shade

And sip their lemonade

When the sun shines,

When the sun shines.

Harrison turned back, lovers’ lips met. Lennon closed his eyes, smiling.

Rain, I don't mind,

Shine, the weather's fine.

The rest of the world didn’t exist — just three of them and music.

I can show you that when it starts to rain

When the rain comes down,

Everything's the same

When the rain comes down,

I can show you,

I can show you.

George didn’t know what caused him to cry more — the song, or the fact how much he loved Richard. Happiness that this feeling was mutual.

Maybe both of them.

Rain, I don't mind,

Shine, the weather's fine.

They sang the chorus together.

Can you hear me that when it rains

And shines it's just a state of mind

Can you hear me,

Can you hear me?

John finished; there was a silence. Nobody knew what to say.

Long after they came back home, said their goodbyes, after Harrison kissed Richard one last time, after three of them looked at each other with a newborn bond, the song’s words were haunting George’s mind, and they were gonna stay with him forever.

Rain, I don't mind,

Shine, the weather's fine.