lovelygeorgie
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George held his gaze and took him again, all the way down, without breaking eye contact once.
John's mouth opened soundlessly. He felt the moment George's throat accommodated him, felt the specific warmth of it, the impossible soft heat of it, and he was looking at George's face and George was looking at his, and George had tears tracking down his cheeks now—not from distress, John understood instinctively, just from the involuntary physics of the thing, just the body doing what it did, but they were there, glinting in the golden light, and his lashes were dark and damp and clumped together, and his lips were stretched and full and there was spit and pre-cum at the corners of his mouth and his nose was pressed right up against the hair at the base of John’s cock, and he looked gut-wrenchingly gorgeous.
OR
John deciding he needs to give George a call after waking up bewildered and disoriented from a very peculiar and erotic dream.
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Paul backed George against the wall, pressing their bodies together. Paul’s mouth trailed down for a moment towards George’s jaw, his neck, sucking at the sensitive patch of skin below George’s ear, and George made a sound—desperate and breathless—that went straight to Paul's groin. He could feel George hard against him, could feel the way his breath hitched when Paul kissed back up to his mouth and bit at his lower lip.
“Still hate you,” George gasped when they broke apart for air, a thin trail of saliva connecting their mouths.“Good,” Paul said, and kissed him again.
OR
A fill for this prompt from The Beatles Kink Meme!: “George and Paul having acrimonious middle aged sex in the nineties and then turning around and talking to each other through catty interviews and maybe the occasional threat of litigation.”
(Alternative title: “Kiss me, Kill me”)
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George's lips moved, forming words he couldn't quite voice. John leaned closer. “What is it, Georgie?”
“Why?” George whispered finally. His voice was hoarse, barely audible. “Why did you do this?”
John's expression softened into something that might have been affection. "Because I love you. Because you're mine. Because I couldn't stand watchin’ you waste yourself on meditation and spirituality and that wife of yours when you should be with me."
“This isn't… love,” George said.“Isn't it?” John kissed his forehead. “Maybe not the kind we write songs about. But it's real. And it's ours. And you're goin’ to learn to love it too. I'll make sure of that.”
He pulled George into his arms, cradling him against his chest, and George was too weak to pull away. He lay there, listening to John's heartbeat, and felt the last of his resistance crumble into dust.OR
Isolated in India, the lines between devotion and control begin to blur. George only wanted John's validation and to be seen as an equal; John wanted everything George had left to give.
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It's 1968 and Paul doesn't want to go home.
Series
- Part 1 of Any Road
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- English
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Bookmarked by lovelygeorgie
04 Sep 2026
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George laughed, sweet and squeaking: all he knew was that John’s hands were tickling him as they felt all over his collarbones, down his sternum, brushing over his nipples.
“John,” He giggled out. His laughter caught in his throat when John’s hands slid from his chest down to his waist, and then wrapped around to grope at his arse over his jeans.
“Want’chye,” John slurred.
Bookmarked by lovelygeorgie
23 Aug 2026
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Provided the drinks keep coming, Richie doesn’t care much what happens to him these days; perhaps that’s why, when John grabs him by the shoulders and plants a kiss somewhere in the vicinity of his mouth – gluttonously drinking him up, as though the previous ten glasses had done nothing to quench his thirst – Rich doesn’t resist.
It's the Lost Weekend and John has lost all his inhibitions.
Bookmarked by lovelygeorgie
15 Aug 2026
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Work in progress banishment zone for explicit Beatles art that Tumblr is not a fan of. More to come (together) ((hopefully)). If the images don’t show up refresh the page a few times, it takes a second to load!
Bookmarked by lovelygeorgie
14 Aug 2026
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It's natural when tensions that had been building for weeks finally erupt. It's only surprising that it happens to occur in Paul's Cavendish kitchen.
Bookmarked by lovelygeorgie
29 Jul 2026