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George thinks, as he drinks a glass of water in their shared hotel lounge, eyes bleary and yet wide open, that surely, they can’t last all night.
Surely, John will have his fill or Paul will put a stop to it before he passes out, or something. Granted, he has a strange metabolism but Paul always complains about his sore neck and tired state the morning after. Surely, he’ll push John away, at last, and stop making so much noise.
How Richie doesn’t wake up is beyond George. The lucky bugger.
He doesn’t get how they manage to take forever with it. John doesn’t even like dogs and yet he hangs onto Paul like an actual tick.
Like, it’s not that having a vampire and a werewolf as band mates isn’t fun. John and Paul have a lot of resilience, meaning shows can get wild and parties can last for ages. And it’s always interesting learning what is and isn’t true about legend.
John does need blood and does not like garlic, though that’s more his own preference than anything else, and he does have a reflection, else it’d be too weird to explain to their crew. He can also turn into a bat, which he’d rather not because he’s not cute like Paul says, he’s a menace. He does turn when it suits him, like when giving Eppy a good fright.
Paul, meanwhile, does not turn into an actual wolf. He gets long canines and overly territorial but otherwise, he’s same old Paul. His full moon issues are easily dealt with but Paul hates feeling like a dog anyway and gets pissy if reminded of the moon calendar. They know to avoid him when he’s like that. Well, everyone but John does. He enjoys Paul’s embarrassment too much.
And it isn’t strange. There’s always been rumours around Liverpool about Irish wolves and bloodthirsty undead. Paul comes from a long line of werewolves, and it didn’t take a huge leap to believe John when he became a bat right before his eyes. He’s fine with all that.
But it does somehow feel strange how John and Paul have decided to deal with their problems. Brian always says they have to keep all issues within the group and they took it to heart.
Which would be fine if the loud slurping didn’t gross him out and if they were more than three feet apart from George. A few boundaries, it’s all he wants.
Right then, the sounds from the other room stop and for a few blessed minutes there’s absolute silence. He could fall asleep right there and then, head on the table, but Paul comes into the room. He sees George and gives a small wave in greeting. He picks a glass of his own and sits with George while he drinks.
George manages to catch the two indents in Paul’s neck, and grimaces. “Aren’t you breaking some law of nature? Mixing werewolf and vampire fluids?”
Paul looks at George like he’s considering giving him a real answer but ends up shrugging. “Won’t affect anyone but us anyway.” He gulps the water down in one go and taps George’s shoulder in goodbye.
Finally free to sleep, George gets into bed and lets himself relax, his muscles unwinding and his mind drifting away. He’s just about to fall into dreams when sounds from the other room disrupt him again. At first he thinks, surely not again, but then he really listens and decides these sounds are even worse. He puts the pillow around his head and tries to pretend it’s as deafening as all the screams he hears on a weekly basis.
If they give him shit for not being able to focus tomorrow, he will break John’s teeth or chop their dicks off. He’s pretty sure which one they’d lament more.