They slammed their shot glasses on the countertop, the buzz of the whiskey intermingled with the Coke hitting their heads as they cheered in celebration of their special day. Paul McCartney officially became James Paul McCartney-Lennon, and John was loving every minute of it.

It wasn't the fact that they had wedding bands on or the fact that they exchanged vows. It was the simple fact that John could look at Paul and know that they were a forever thing. Paul adored John in many ways, and the fact that he was going to incorporate him in his real-estate career meant more than the eye could see.

"So," George began, wrapping his arm around Ringo. "what are you two love birds going to when ye get 'ome?"

John looked at Paul, who was busy downing his shot of whiskey to answer George's question. "I think we have a few things in mind," John replied.

Ringo smirked. "Going to fuck that ass, aye?"

John glared at him. "D'ye want me to beat you to a bloody pulp?"

The blue-eyed boy shook his head, then snuggled closer to George, who was chuckling as he was seeing this. "Oh Lennon, you're still the same asshole I met in school." he said. "Please excuse Ringo, he's had a filthy mouth since we've reunited." He bit onto Ringo's neck.

John nodded. "I can tell." He turned to his husband Paul. "Ready to go, Darling?"

Paul lifted up his hands in the air, completely plastered. "I'm ready to get fucked!" He bellowed out. John face palmed himself, shaking his head. He should have monitored Paul's drinking. Regardless of the situation, he knew he was going to have fun -- even if Paul was hammered.

"We'll be off now, ye gits." John said, holding Paul close.

George and Ringo nodded, waving the two newlyweds off.

As they watched their friends leave, Ringo turned to George with his left hand resting on his boyfriend's stern chest.

"Another night paid off." Ringo said, his gorgeous blue orbs glistening in the lime light of the bar. "Can ye believe that, after all these years, we still managed to be together?"

George pecked Ringo on the lips. "I certainly can." He pressed the smaller lad against the brim of the bar table. "And again, I'm sorry about the 'ole Pattie thing."

Ringo kissed him in return, raking his fingers into George's long strands. "You have the whole night to prove how sorry ye are."

George quirked his brow, smirking. "You want me to prove it right now?"

Ringo groped his clothed cock. "What do you think?"

George walked over to the door of the bar and flipped the sign to 'CLOSED'. He then turned back around and gave his lover a devilish grin.

"Starrison Pub is closed for maintenance." He turned Ringo around and, without missing a beat, he pulled Ringo's trousers down. He then slammed into Ringo and groaned.

"Oh yes!" Ringo cried out; tightening his hole around George's cock.

George began to move, and in a swift movement, he began to rock Ringo into oblivion...

___________________________

After they finished making love, Ringo wiped his forehead with a rag while George lay sleeping on the couch in the upstairs room. Ringo smiled at the sight of George sleeping: His eyes closed, mouth slightly agape, snoring softly. He was a lucky bastard, and now that Pattie was out of the way, Ringo could have his life back.

He washed his face and allowed his mind to drift off to the younger days; the days where he fell in love with George. The days where they gave it their all to keep their love alive...