Once George had gotten up to get ready for his shift, and Ringo was left alone with John, he felt his hands starting to sweat. He had been fine when George had been around to lead the conversation, but now he was alone with John, he hoped things wouldn't get awkward between them. He liked John, though. He was clever, witty and a rather great guy to be around, especially once he had realised John's sarcastic and somewhat mean remarks weren't meant to be taken seriously. But he and John hadn't said much more to each other than a few sentences, testing each other and seeing what the other was like. Ringo had mostly listened to him and John talk about all kinds of things, sometimes saying something because it was something he knew a bit about, or because someone asked him anything. Being left alone with the man he had only just met, did make Ringo a little nervous.

"I'll be right back. Don't worry, "George had said to him as he had kissed him on the lips as a brief goodbye.

"He's not half as bad as he looks. Oh, and try to get a table while you still can. It'll be worth it, I promise." Ringo had nodded at that, not being able to say anything with his throat tightened in nerves. He smiled painfully at the other man to try to let him know he'd be okay, but he only managed to get a sympathetic smile. From the corner of his eye he spotted John grinning at them as he pretended to be busy inspecting label on the bottle of alcohol.

"I'll be fine." Ringo finally managed to croak out and George kissed him once more, before stepping away, reaching into his trousers to get out a few coins. He laid them on the table with a wink at John, who only nodded, before gathering them and putting them away. When George noticed the confused look on Ringo's face he leaned in and whispered: "First drink's on me."

"I can-" Ringo started, but was interrupted a very cheery greeting and an unfamiliar hand on his shoulder, making him jump in his seat, and nearly falling to the ground.

"Hello, lads. You'd better get ready Geo, or Brian will have your throat." The unknown man said. Ringo vaguely recognised his voice and turned his head to look at who was still firmly grasping his shoulder. He quickly looked away again when he saw it was Paul, feeling embarrassed for what he had witnessed just a few minutes before.

"Right. I'll see you in a bit," George replied, before turning Ringo's face back on him and leaning in to whisper in his ear, "Oh, and get a table. It will be worth it, I promise." He pulled away with a wink, that almost made Ringo blush, before he went off and disappeared backstage.

               Paul claimed George's seat and flopped down surprisingly gracefully. He looked good. He had fixed his hair, clothing and make up and smiled cheerfully again as he caught John's eye.

"So, you gonna get me a scotch and coke or what?" Paul asked with a light chuckle. Almost right away, John nodded and reached down to get Paul his drink. "Thanks, luv." Paul said and turned around on his seat to talk to Ringo while John would be busy.

"I-I'm sorry about before, you know. Me and Stu, we're not often like that, really. I'd rather you wouldn't tell John, though." Paul said to him in a quiet voice that only Ringo was able to hear. Ringo wondered if he should tell Paul George already had, but thought it was better not to get too mixed up into anything yet. He didn't even know this people. It really wasn't his place. Besides, he hadn't actually said anything about it. Ringo nodded with a light smile and got a warm one in return. Paul patted him on the shoulder again, before turning back to the bar, right as John came back up with a scotch and coke in his hand.

"Ta, mate." Paul thanked his friend as he took the glass from him and took a large gulp.

"So, Richard," Paul continued as he placed his glass on the bar and turned to look at him with curious eyes, leaning forward a little and giving him all his attention, "as you've probably realised by now, or at least I hope you have, George really likes you. Now, you are probably an alright guy. George doesn't simply like anyone. But I need to know you're going to be good for our George."

"I-I er..." Ringo started, unsure of what to say to that.

"Come on, Macca. He seems alright to me. I already went over this. Sort of." John butted in for him, giving Ringo a kind smile, which made him like John a lot more already. If he was still being nice to him without George being there, that had to mean something.

"I think the lad can answer for himself, then. If you're so sure about him, that is." Paul replied, not looking away from Ringo and smiling rather creepily at him and gave him a wink that was not at all comforting. Ringo tried to smile back in a friendly manner, but failed miserable at the nerves. He leaned back a bit to keep some distance from the younger man.

"Well?" Paul asked.

"I-I'm alright." Ringo answered him finally, his voice wavering as he spoke. He wasn't sure what else he could say.

"Just alright?"

"Well... I don't know... I mean-"

"Paul, give the guy a rest!" John butted in again, and this time Paul seemed to listen, sitting back again and taking a sip from his scotch. Ringo could see John rolling his eyes as he turned his back on them to inspect the bottles on display. Paul leaned over again, his face a lot more friendly this time, which made Ringo not pull away from him.

"Sorry about that," Paul whispered to him, "Geo is like a brother to me, you know, but I didn't actually mean anything with it. I've seen the way you look at him. You'll be good for George, I know it."

"Thanks." Ringo muttered, looking at John from the corner of his eye. When he looked back at Paul again, the younger man was leaning forward over the counter, reaching with his fingers into a bucket of ice to get himself some. Turning back around, John saw it and immediately patted Paul's fingers away.

"Ah ah. Don't touch, Macca. If you add anymore to that scotch or yours, it might be better not to bother with the alcohol. It's cheaper, too." He tutted. Paul glared at him, but took his hand back anyway and let out a sigh of defeat.

"Oh, shut it." He mumbled back softly, as if he didn't want John to hear. The older man did hear, however, and swiftly added to ice cubes to Paul's drink, which earned him a smug grin. Paul picked up his glass and rolled the ice around for a bit, letting it melt, and taking another sip, larger this time. He hummed contently as the liquid ran down his throat.

"So, Richie dear, what is it that you do, eh? Think you can support our Georgie here?" Apparently, it was now John's turn to ask him questions and interrogate him. He leaned onto the bar with both hands and leaned closely to George, invading his personal space. Ringo tried not to pull away, but found it difficult. He wasn't used to being this close to people he had only just met. He silently hoped George would be back soon to save him from his friends, but looking at the clock he noticed it the club was already open for two minutes. Maybe hoping for a shit load of customers so both would be too busy would be a better idea.

"I work in theatre." Ringo answered briefly. He did not like speaking about his job. Which was rather strange, as he was talking to two guys who worked at a gay strip club. He should be the least to be uncomfortable to talk about his job. He took a large gulp of his beer, hoping he had been able end the conversation right there, but John wasn't yet satisfied.

"Theatre, eh? Fancy! What do you do? Scrub the toilets?" John asked, snickering at his own joke. He saw Paul shoot him a warning glare, but John only winked at him, not seeming to care. Especially, since Paul had been asking him questions first.

"Not really. I'm more like... management. I er... assist the assistant event manager. But it's more than just getting coffee. It is actually a rather busy job. And the pay is good enough. I mean, I'm hardly rich but I'm living comfortably."

"Interesting..." John muttered, tapping with his fingers against his chin as if he were thinking very deeply, "You think you could get use free tickets or something?"

"John?!" Paul exclaimed next to them, "That's not how it works. You know it isn't."

"Oh, isn't it? Such a same." John replied, smirking, and Ringo could only laugh along, even if it was rather nervously.

               Ringo managed to find a small table to sit at right on time. For a Tuesday evening it was rather busy, and he'd rather not sit with too many stranger. On his table were two others. A man and a woman around his age, both looking rather foreign for reasons Ringo wasn't sure off. After a while, though, his suspicions were confirmed when he heard them speaking German. The girl was pretty. Short, platinum blond hair. Gorgeous large eyes and thin, wide lips. She wore a pair of black jeans with a white sweater and a light blue shirt under it. The guy she was with had rather large lips, a dimple chin and his black hair was long and cut in a moptop. He, too, was dressed almost entirely in black. Probably some German fashion, Ringo figured.

Ringo was surprised when Paul came over to their table and started speaking with the two in German as if they were best friends. Paul's German was okay, for as far as Ringo could hear (he did not speak German) and they joked and laughed for a little before Ringo heard Paul saying Mr. Epstein. They spoke briefly after, probably making plans to meet up, before Paul went over to Ringo and told him George would come over soon, too. Ringo dared not to ask him about the Germans at his table.

As it turned out, George did not come over for another forty minutes or so. Ringo could see him walking among the crowd, handing out drinks and lightly flirting with people, who shoved money in his too tight jeans and let their eyes rake shamelessly over his body. Ringo was pleased with himself when he realised he was not upset with seeing George work. He had feared it when he had left the door. Before it had been fine, but things between them had sort of changed after they had had sex. Thankfully, he did not feeling any jealousy when some old dude shoved a bill in George's pants. He mostly just felt bad for the other man.

It was pleasantly busy in the club, so he could keep an eye on George to see where he was. Still, after a while he lost sight of him and decided to entertain himself by looking at some of the other men that were walking around in just as suggestive clothing. They were dressed simply; a pair of too tight jeans with a few fake holes that clearly showed every piece of them, a tight and perhaps too small white shirt, through which Ringo could see their nipples and some simple trainers. Just suggestive enough to work. Still, it wasn't something anyone in their right mind would wear anywhere else.

Finally, George found the time to give him some attention. At first, Ringo hadn't even noticed George had been around him. He had been too busy looking at Stuart, who seemed to give some special attention to the blonde girl at his table. He was now, however, giving a rather lewd lap dance to some guy who was blushing like a virgin. His friends laughed and whistled whenever Stuart did anything they liked, which only seemed to embarrass the other man and Ringo almost felt bad for him. He jumped in his seat when he felt a pair of hands on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw George who was busy straddling his thighs, hanging half above him. When their eyes met, George grinned down at him and lowered himself, sitting down right above Ringo's hardening crotch- he was only human after all.

"Hi there." Ringo muttered softly, a goofy grin spreading over his face, which George quickly mimicked.

"Hi. Enjoying yourself?" George asked, starting to massage Ringo's chest and shoulders with his clever hands, his foot reaching back to rub against Ringo's leg.

"Hmm..." Ringo moaned, closing his eyes briefly, "much better now you're here."

"Oh, if I had known that, I would have come sooner."

"Don't worry, dear. You're worth the wait." Ringo replied, cracking open his eyes again to watch as George blushed at his words, and squirmed in his lap, rubbing accidental against his bulge. Ringo moaned at the friction and couldn't help his hands from sliding up George's thighs to hold his waist. George didn't complain and let him hold him.

"So? What do you think?" The younger of the two asked, leaning forward a little as he continued to roll his hips, liking the reaction he got from Ringo. Another moan escaped Ringo's throat and George felt the urge to swallow it, but refrained. People might get funny ideas in their heads if they saw a stripper kiss what seemed like a costumer.

"About what?" Ringo asked, frowning. George chuckled at that and let his hands slide down a tad bit lower, so his fingertips were lightly rubbing his nipples.

"About John and Paul, silly." George replied, tutting. He thrusted his hips downwards into Ringo's crotch with almost full force. The latter let out a silent cry at that, his fingers tightening around the younger man's waist.

"Devilish, you are."

"Oh, I know. Now, answer my question."

"They're just as devilish as you. I like them, although the interrogation somewhat surprised me." Ringo said, trying to control his breathing as George's fingers moved up to play with his hair as he lowered his mouth to suckle at his earlobe.

"Sorry about that." He whispered, and licked into Ringo's ear before pulling away. Ringo almost whined at the loss, but managed to swallow down the embarrassing sound. Instead, he gave George the most sensual look he knew. However, George only winked at him, and started to slide down his legs, until he was standing again.

"Sorry to disappoint. I should get back to work, before Brian comes in and start bugging me about it. Unless you want another drink?" He said as he nodded at the empty beer bottle in front of Ringo. When Ringo nodded, he leaned in and placed a teasing kiss on his cheek, before grabbing his bottle.

"Are you trying to get me broke?" Ringo asked, taking deep breaths to calm himself and cool himself down. He was certain his cheeks were flushed- they felt so hot. George grinned at him with an innocent shrug.

"Maybe..." He said, before hurrying off to get Ringo another drink. As soon as he was out of eyesight, Ringo let out a deep sigh and felt his cheeks with the back of his hand. Yes, he was surely blushing. He even felt feverishly, there was no other possibility. He could see the girl looking at him over her shoulder with an amused look on her face. As soon as she realised he had seen her, though, she looked away.

Ringo almost jumped up when he heard George's voice besides him again. He had been far quicker than Ringo had expected. He swallowed when he realised George must have hurries especially for him. He thanked George and reached into his pocket for some money for both the attention George had given him and the drink. George refused to take the money, however.

"You don't actually need to pay. You're my boyfriend. It will be fine." George said, his voice soft, blushing as he referred to Ringo as he boyfriend. Ringo couldn't say he wasn't feeling odd by that himself. His stomach felt as if someone was twisting it and turning around. It would have been nauseating, if Ringo didn't feel that incredibly happy at that moment.

"Just take it. I don't want to cause you any trouble. You're a stripper. It's what you do. It wouldn't be fair not to pay you."

"You're a lot more than just work." George said, biting his lip nervously as he stared at the money in Ringo's hand, probably feeling a bit too bashful to look Ringo in the eye at that moment. Ringo shook his head, even if George could not see it.

"I know. But right now you're working, so just take the damn money. Or else, I'll give it to Paul instead." George nodded and smiled gratefully at his boyfriend as he took the money from him and put it away in his pocket. He ruffled Ringo's hair once affectionately, before hurrying away to do this job.

               After that, Ringo couldn't stop grinning as he drank the beer George had gotten him. He was George's boyfriend. George had called him that. His boyfriend. God, he was so lucky. But on the other hand, it had become a lot more harder to look at George when he was doing his job. It wasn't so much that he was disgusted by it or felt weird about it, it was more a possessive thing, which Ringo had never had before. He didn't like the way people would ogle at his boyfriend as if he was a piece of meat. As if he only existed for their twisted pleasure. Which Ringo knew wasn't fair, because right now that was what George existed for. It was his job. He liked his job, or so he had told him, and this was part of it. Hell, it was the whole idea, wasn't it?For the first time in a very long time, Ringo asked himself why people would want a job like this in the first place. He should ask George.

But it was getting harder and harder for Ringo. Especially whenever George slid into some dude's lap and started dancing for him. He smiled victoriously when he realised George would never let anyone touch him, though, which he had let Ringo do. It was a silly thing, but in that moment it was very important and actually calmed Ringo down a lot. He took a deep breath and kept looking at the pair from where he was sitting. His heart skipped a beat when George opened his eyes and looked up at him with a playful wink as he played the other man's body. Ringo smiled back at him and nodded lightly to tell him he was alright. It wasn't his place to get jealous over something as stupid as George's job. It was just his job. No need to get jealous.

Once he had finished his beer, and someone had taken it away and handed him a coke (he still needed to drive), he felt a lot better already. He would be stupid to feel that strongly about George's job. Besides, George liked his job. He enjoyed it and had been doing this for one full year with Paul. Thinking of Paul, he had not seen the lad anymore since he had last seen him doing a dance on stage (Ringo hadn't actually paid much attention).

He tore his gaze away from George, who was flirting with some other guy now as he handed him a drink. There was nothing to do about that. He just needs to get used to it first. It was just because George had called him his boyfriend. Anyone would get jealous after that. But he was not thinking about George. He was thinking about Paul, who was behind the bar with John. He was sitting on the counter near the wall, letting his head rest against it as he played with a cork of a wine bottle. Ringo couldn't see the guy's feet but was certain they did not reach the floor. He was talking with John in a rather hushed manner. There weren't many people around the bar, since most people were waited on by the strippers, so Ringo figured it would be a nice play to talk to people. He wished he could hear them, though. After what he had witnessed between Paul and Stuart he was dying to know more, but he couldn't even see their lips move properly, let alone hear them.

Glancing at the large clock on the back wall of the club, he jumped up in shock, nearly knocking over the table. John and Paul looked up at the sudden noise, and Ringo raised his hand to say everything was fine as he moved the table back in the right position with some help of the German guy. George was quick to hurry over.

"Are you leaving?" George asked when he saw Ringo standing. The older man smiled apologetically and George smiled in understanding, but looked away from Ringo's eyes. Ringo felt bad for having to leave, but he had to wake up early in the morning and it was already eleven and he still had to drive home. He told George so and the younger man nodded.

"Right, of course. Let's go find your coat." He said, taking Ringo by his hand and leading him backstage. As soon as they were alone, he pulled Ringo close to him and kissed him deeply as his hands reached for his leather jacket. Ringo could only moan and felt his head get dizzy from the sudden passion. His hands reached for George's face, but before he could caress his cheeks, George pulled back and held his jacket in front of his face. Ringo giggled at that and took it from him to put it on. Before he turned to leave, he kissed George again and promised him he'd call as soon as he could. George did not seem to notice him slipping him a few more pounds.