Gently, George let his fingertips run over the dusty covers of the thick books in front of him, placed neatly in a row in alphabetical order. With his other hand he held the books he had already picked out close to his chest, keeping them from falling onto the wooden floor of the library- they might fall apart if he didn't. He loved spending time in the library, searching for little gems that would make his paper just that much better from the other's and earn him a well-deserved high grade. He loved going through him, spending copious amounts of time simply skimming through them all, letting his eyes glide across every page, until something would catch his attention. And then he'd spend even longer, meticulously picking out every little piece of information that would be valuable to him. He could spend hours dotting down notes from them, researching details and unknown terms. It was like playing detective. Also, it was a great way to lose yourself and not think about troubling boyfriends for awhile.

As it happened, he hadn't spoken much to Ringo since they had gone out for coffee and a late lunch a bit over a week ago. They had texted and even spoken over the phone, but they hadn't been able to meet up and George began to worry. What if Ringo was avoiding him? Had he done something wrong at their last date? It had seemed to all go well. Or perhaps Ringo had realised he could not go out with a stripper and wasn't certain on how to break the news to him? The idea hurt him. He enjoyed his job, but he could understand if it wasn't what Ringo wanted in his life. It wasn't exactly normal, was it?

He sighed and picked up a book from the bookshelf that looked interesting enough. He let placed it on a nearby side table and skimmed through it swiftly, yet thoroughly. Unfortunately, it wasn't discussing the subject he was writing his paper on, but the pictures were intriguing to say the least.

"Well, I think you're overreacting." A voice suddenly said next to him. George nearly dropped his book in fright. He had totally forgotten Paul had been standing right besides him. And that he had been talking to him not a few minutes ago. About said boyfriend troubles, nonetheless. He turned his head to Paul and bit his bottom lip.

"You really think so?" He asked, still unsure. He wanted to believe Paul. He truly did, but he wasn't stupid. He had heard the stories, seen the movies, even heard the experiences of his own colleagues. There was no way he was that lucky.

"Course I do. He's just busy. Besides, you've been calling and texting him, haven't you? If he was going to dump you, he wouldn't do that. I'm just saying." Paul answered, not even turning to look at him, and instead looking through his own stack of books as he leaned against the bookshelves. "And, he didn't seem to have any trouble with your job when I spoke with him. Honestly, he can't take his eyes off you whenever he's there."

"Really?" George asked, swallowing thickly, knowing deep down it was only false hope he was feeling. Why would anyone want to date a stripper like him? Especially a guy like Ringo, with that precious smile, shining blue eyes, as kind as he is. He could do so much better than him.

"You're too modest for your own good, Geo. You're a great guy, smart, great sense of humour, handsome. Anyone would be lucky to have you." Paul muttered, frowning at something in his book. George felt himself heat up at his friend's worse, his cheeks colouring a light pink. "You're a stripper for god's sake! Brian wouldn't let you hang around if he didn't think you were sexy enough to bring in some money."

"If you say so." George mumbled, unsure of what else to say. Now, Paul did turn to him, their eyes locking.

"I do." Paul replied, leaving George with even less to say. The older man smiled and reached out for him, patting his shoulder. "Just call him," he told him, "Tell him how you feel if you must. He'll be happy to hear for you. You'll see." He nodded encouragingly at him and squeezed his shoulder in reassurance, before walking past him with his stack of books, back to their shared table where their bags, jackets and school stuff were waiting for them. George sighed and leaned with his forehead against a few books. He could only hope Paul was right.

               George groaned and yawned at once as he stretched himself on the couch. Paul mumbled something incomprehensible at him, but it sounded both angry and annoyed. Most likely, he wasn't all to happy about his pillow moving at that much beneath him. George chuckled at his friend. He looked down at him and gently brushed a lock of hair out of his face. Paul muttered something to him that sounded like a "thank you".

"Tired?" George couldn't help but ask. His friend's eyes opened to give him a glare, something Paul was still good in, even if he was on the verge of falling asleep.

"No. Never felt this energized in my life. Why do you ask?" Paul muttered, this time audible. George rolled his eyes, grabbed Paul by his shoulder and gently rolled him off him.

"Eh!" Paul objected, but was too tired to object more physically than that.

"Sorry. Got to call Richie." George said with an apologetic smile. Paul groaned at that, rolled over and curled up on the couch, facing away from him.

"God, I'm already wishing you were single again. Just so you won't move when I'm finally comfortable."

"Don't be dramatic. You've been lying like that for almost the entire duration of the movie. I wasn't even allowed to use the bathroom until you were starting to get peckish. Now, would you be so kind to turn of the telly when you go to bed?"

"Fuck off." Paul shot at him in reply. George could only grin, however, knowing his friend wasn't serious. He grabbed a blanket from the armrest and gently draped it over his friend, who immediately curled up underneath it, making it look like a cocoon. Or a burrito.

               The bed let out a heavy creak as George let himself fall on top of it and George made a mental note not to do that again; he could not afford to buy a new bed now. He grabbed his phone from his nightstand, where it was plugged in to charge. He unplugged the charger and unlocked his phone, frowning in disappointment when he saw Ringo hadn't texted him yet. He had at least expected one. Even just to say goodnight. Was this a bad sign?

He remembered Paul's words. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax and selected Ringo from his contacts and pressed the "call"-button. He placed the phone against his ear, rolled onto his side and took another deep breath as he waited. It rang only two times, before it was answered.

"George!" Ringo's enthusiastic voice came through the phone. Immediately, as smile appeared on George's face. Ringo was glad to hear him. He could hear it in his voice.

"Hi." George replied shyly, still smiling like a fool, "I er... I was missing you. Thought I'd call." He could hear Ringo chuckle on the other end of the line, making George wonder if he had accidentally said something funny. He waited for his response.

"I like it when you call." Ringo muttered softly, making George feel stupid for having thought he was planning on breaking up with him. Maybe Paul was right. Maybe he was too modest. Too insecure.

"So," He asked, "What have you been up to?"

"Work mostly. Had this incredibly boring meeting. You should've been there."

"Me? Why?"

"To make it less boring. We could have kissed instead." Ringo said, making George laugh.

"That would have been better, wouldn't it?" He asked, turning back on his back and staring up at the ceiling, pretending Ringo was actually there with him, lying next to him on his bed, saying those things into his ear, rather than his phone. He found it difficult to stop giggling after that. Ringo didn't comment on it. He merely chuckled along with him and George liked to pretend he was doing the same.

"How about you?" Ringo asked after a while. George shrugged, planting his feet onto the bed and letting his right leg lie on the other as he started playing with the material of his pyjama bottoms- he had changed before calling.

"Nothing much. Watched a movie with Paul. Lying in bed now. Talking to you. Thinking of you." He admitted, still grinning to himself. He could practically hear Ringo's smile on the other side of the line. He wished he could see him. Was he also lying in bed? In his pyjamas. Or perhaps even naked, curled up beneath the sheets, staring at the spot where he had lain almost two weeks ago. Had it really been that long?

"Nice thoughts, I hope." Ringo asked knowingly.

"Oh, very nice thoughts." George replied with another chuckle, blushing at his own imagination, "Miss you, though. Wish you were here."

"Hmm... me too."

"Can't you come over?" George asked hopefully, his heart beating in his throat, making it difficult for him to breathe.

"Sorry. I can't. I'm about to collapse and Muffin is begging me for her food." Ringo said with an apologetic sigh. George swallowed and nodded.

"Right..."

"I could come over tomorrow... See you at the club? If you want to, of course." Ringo suggested. Something in his voice sounded off, but George was too relieved that Ringo still wanted to meet up with him that he chose to ignore it in that moment.

"Yes! Of course! I'd love it if you come." George blurted out, blushing as he realised how shamelessly he had replied, "I-I mean... If you want to come, of course. I- I understand if you don't. Seeing as I'll be working."

"No! I'll come over. Of course I will. I- I need to see you." Ringo spoke softly from the other side and George smiled at that. Paul had been right. Ringo doesn't care what job he does. It's only a job, after all.

"Can't wait to see you again. It has been awhile." George muttered into the phone, rolling onto his side again.

"I know. I'm sorry I was so busy."

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm still sorry. Are you still thinking those nice thoughts about me?" Ringo asked, his voice suddenly a bit lower and George shuddered, having a feeling where this was going. His heart sped up in his chest and his lips trembled as he parted them to reply.

"Of course..." George mumbled softly.

"Good. I-I've really missed you. Been thinking a lot about you, too. Wish you were lying besides me, again."

"During or after we... err... you know?" George both grinning and blushing as if he was a fucking virgin.

"How about both?" Ringo replied with a naughty giggle.

"I-I'll see you tomorrow." George said quickly, feeling his body reacting as memories of that night started to flood his brain. Ringo laughed again.

"See you tomorrow."

               George tried not to let his nerves take over as he moved around the club, getting people their drinks and flirting with them. He had totally forgotten that it was his turn to perform on stage that evening, which meant Ringo would see him. Of course, Ringo had seen him do it before, but that had been different. They hadn't known each other then, but now... He took a deep breath as he handed some guy his drink. He smiled politely at him and George quickly winked and stroked his cheek flirtatiously before hurrying off.

Thankfully, it wasn't a busy evening. There only about seven or eight people at the moment and it was already ten o'clock. Ringo wasn't here yet, however, and they hadn't said a time so George couldn't know when to expect him either. He hoped he'd come soon, though. Maybe if he'd see him, he'd feel better. Oh he hoped so.

"Harrison!" A voice called for him as he approached the bar. He saw one of his co-workers beckon him over. He didn't particular like the boy, but he could hardly pretend he hadn't seen him now. He did wish he wouldn't use his real name that loudly. Even if it wasn't that busy. He walked over to him, pretending not to be bothered by it. He didn't feel like arguing about something is little as that.

"What is it?" He asked with a sigh as he leaned over the bar and poured himself a glass of water. Being nervous always made him thirsty. The other boy leaned closer to him. George fought the urge to take a step back.

"There's a man asking for you. Says his name is Michael or something. You know him?" The other man asked. George frowned at that. The name did sound vaguely familiar, although he could not place it. The other man nodded into the direction of the stage and George followed his direction, studying the back of people's heads to see if he recognised anyone. Only when one of the men turned his head into their direction, did George know who the other man was talking about. It was the guy whom he had given a private lap dance to a few days ago.

"Asking for me?" George asked as he quickly looked away. The other man nodded with a grin.

"Sounds like you've got an admirer, George. Careful, though." He said and George nodded as he stood up. He asked John for a beer, which he was given almost immediately and walked over to Michael. It didn't seem like he had seen him yet, which would make the surprise even better. He had liked the man. Even if he had only been a costumer. He had been nice. Different.

               "Hi!" George said as he placed the bottle of beer in front of the other man on the table. Michael jumped in his seat and look up at him with wide eyes. They only widened as they recognised the man before him. A shy smile appeared on the man's face, which George mirrored.

"You came back." George noted. The man nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but George beat him to it. "Not just for me I hope. I'm afraid I'm taken." He added. The man's face fell for only a second, but he quickly regained himself and smiled more broadly this time.

"I shouldn't have expected any differently. But er... I did... perhaps. Although there are still plenty of other men that would be a good second choice."

"Don't let them hear it." George replied, making Michael chuckle softly. "Don't worry about the beer. It's on me. I'm glad you came back." The man nodded thankfully and with one last wink, George walked away again, feeling the other man's gaze on him. However, he soon forget the man as he saw the door that lead outside open again and he saw a short, blue-eyed man walk in, holding a wet umbrella in his hand. George hurried over to him, kissing him before they had even said their hellos.

               Ringo felt his entire body warm up as George pressed himself against him and kissed him passionately. He moaned at the feeling that already felt so familiar and moved a hand to the younger man's hip to hold him closely, possessively. Ringo mentally kicked himself. He hadn't even been inside for a two minutes and he was already feeling jealous and possessive. Perhaps this was the right choice? Perhaps he did just have to see that George was different with him than with the other customers. That all his fears were irrational. Yes, that had to be it.

"I'm glad you're here." George muttered as they broke apart. Ringo smiled at him and nodded.

"Me too. I've missed you. I really have." He said and George sighed before kissing him again. "I wish I could take you away right now and have you all to myself." He added and George chuckled at that.

"Feeling possessive?" He asked with a playful wink. Ringo merely smiled back at him. "Come one. I have to get ready for my performance." George said as grabbed Ringo's hand and lead him through the people, chairs and tables to the front of the stage, where he sat him down in a comfortable chair near the stage.

"Want anything to drink?" A voice came from behind them and Ringo smiled when he saw John standing behind George, looking down at them with a knowing grin, that George apparently chose to ignore. Ringo didn't care, and only grinned back. He ordered a coke and John went away again, leaving Ringo and George alone for a bit longer.

"You're performing?" Ringo whispered as George pretend to clean the tables around them. He nodded. "Nervous?" Ringo asked and George nodded again. "I'm sure you'll do great, luv. You don't know how beautiful you really are, I swear." George grinned at his words and let himself sit in Ringo's lap, lightly playing with his hair as he sighed.

"What is it?" Ringo asked, sensing a change in his boyfriend's behaviour. George shrugged.

"Are you okay with this?" He asked softly, looking straight into Ringo's eyes. The older man frowned at that, not being sure what George was actually talking about.

"Okay with you sitting in my lap?" He asked, but George didn't laugh. He only shook his head.

"With us? Me? Being a stripper?" He asked. His voice was soft and a bit croaky and Ringo could hear it was full of fake strength, build up to finally ask a question that must have been bothering him longer. Ringo wished he could simply say that he was. It was his job and he liked doing it. Besides, it wasn't like he was actually into the other men. And as long as he came home to him, he wouldn't care. It was what Ringo wanted to say. What he wanted to feel, but he couldn't get the words over his lips. Because he wasn't sure if that was really what he felt. He didn't want to lie. Even per accident. So instead, he kissed him again. They could talk about this another time. Somewhere more private.

               George tried to focus on his routine as he stood on the stage, but his eyes were too often drawn back to the man at the front of the audience, watching his every move, his name on his lips. Stuart was hanging above him, from the same pole, his crotch basically in George's face, and George enjoyed seeing how much it turned the older man on. He winked at him and watched as Ringo shifted awkwardly in his seat, taking a quick sip from his cold beer that John had brought him. George wondered if he'd think about their night together. Their feeling of their sweaty hot bodies against each other, rutting together. His fingers trembled at the memory and he knew he wanted to feel that again. With Ringo.

George bit his lip sexily as he slowly slid down the pole, ending in a split, his legs spread as wide as they could go on either side of him. At this a few men whistled and for a second George thought he had seen a shift of emotion in Ringo's eyes. But it had been too brief, too fast. He moved aside so Stuart could come down as well and crawled towards Ringo. He took his tie between his fingers and lightly tugged on it, feeling his own crotch tingle as Ringo took in a sharp breath, his pupils dilating. He smirked and teased him closer, pulling at his tie until their lips were only half an inch apart. Just a bit and they'd...

"Meet me backstage after this." George murmured softly into Ringo's ear, biting his earlobe and tugging playfully.

"How is it that you're so shy when you're with me, but a fucking sex god when taking off your clothes for strangers?" Ringo breathed. George shrugged.

"You tell me." He said in a teasing voice. Mainly because he actually didn't know and he'd like to.