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As Paul leaned up against the window of the bus the three of them had hopped on, John glanced over at him. He knew that his friend was prone to getting sick in cars, and he wanted to make sure the poor kid was alright.
“Macca? You good?” he whispered, and the younger boy nodded.
“Yeah, m’fine,” he mumbled, but John wasn’t having it.
“Do you need me to see if we can stop for a bit?”
Paul only shook his head dejectedly. “It won’t help any. And it’ll only make everyone mad. We’ll be there in a few hours anyway.”
And even though John wanted him to feel a bit better, he knew his friend was right, and he was better off just waiting to get some fresh air.
Paul closed his eyes as he rested his head again, hoping to fall asleep to forget the motion of the bus, but then he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned, and he saw George looking at him in trepidation.
“Georgie? What’s the matter with you?”
The young guitarist tried to hide the blush on his face, but he failed. “Paul, I think we need to stop soon.”
“Well, I’ll say.” But when George didn’t take his eyes off of Paul, he grew concerned. “Why, George? You doing alright?”
He shook his head. “I n-need to pee,” he whispered so that only Paul could hear him. “I’ve been waiting this whole ride, and I don’t think I can no more.”
Paul frowned just as John leaned over. “What are you two whispering about? What’s going on?”
“George needs a piss,” Paul said to him. John looked over at the boy.
“How long?”
“Not much longer. I mean, for real.” An even darker blush covered his cheeks from his chin to his temples.
John sighed and stood up, walking over to the driver. As they conversed, Paul looked over at his younger friend.
“He’s got it under control. Father John,” he joked, but George was in too bad a state to laugh. When John returned, he sat down, reaching over to pat George’s knee.
“He’s gonna stop at the next rest area for ya. Said he can only wait a few minutes, though.”
George nodded in understanding. “Alright. Thanks, Johnny.” He bounced his leg up and down as the heaviness in his bladder only got worse and worse. After about ten minutes, the bus still hadn’t stopped, though, and he began to whine.
John huffed and stood back up, rushing over to the driver. “Hey, he’s just a kid, okay? Looks a right sight right now, so maybe find somewhere close.”
“The closest one’s just up here, sir,” he apologised, and John headed back over to sit down, where he saw that George was now full on squirming.
“We’re almost there, Georgie. You gonna be okay?”
George blushed madly at the way John spoke to him like a child. He nodded. “I’ll be fine. Just leave it alone.”
For the next few minutes, neither John nor Paul said a word to him, and he was also quiet. Way more quiet than he usually was, or maybe it was just the stress of the situation that made it seem that way.
Suddenly the bus stopped, and John stood up. “Come on, Georgie.”
George got up but narrowed his eyes at John. “I can go myself.”
“Yeah, but I’m not about to let a fourteen year old kid wander off by himself on my watch. I don’t even know where we are.”
George rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine. Can we just hurry the hell up then?” he mumbled. He was off of the bus before John, who had been stopped by the driver.
“I’m giving you five minutes, kid. I’m leaving if you’re not fast.”
George’s eyes widened as John, too, stepped off the bus. “We only have five minutes?”
“Don’t worry about it. Paul won’t let him leave.” John then led them both around the rest area to find the toilet, seeing that the only one available was a family toilet. The rest were boarded up.
George ran to it and pulled at the locked handle. “Dammit,” he murmured. “They’re gonna leave us here!”
John shook his head. “I told you not to worry about that, George.” He glanced at his watch just in case, watching as a full minute went by, and the door still hadn’t opened.
“Maybe we should just head back,” George said regretfully, bouncing up and down as he held his crotch.
“Kid, we’re stopped here to let you piss, and I’ll be damned if you don’t get to piss. We can wait.”
“John—“ George tried to argue, but he was cut off by the older boy.
“If we get back on that bus without you using the toilet, you ain’t gonna make it till we’re there, and you know it, too. So just calm down.” George glared at him when his bladder contracted, causing him to bend down and groan.
John knocked frantically at the door. “Hey! You fancy hurrying it up in there? My kid’s gotta go!”
George blushed. “M’not your kid, Johnny.”
“He don’t know that.” Another minute went by, and the door was still closed, so John knocked again. “Come on, man. We’re on a tight schedule here.”
George bent down, wriggling around on the concrete, and John wanted nothing more than to just help him get into the bathroom sooner, but his yelling wasn’t doing them any good.
“John, I think I’m gonna pee myself,” he whispered miserably.
“You’re not,” John replied with a stern edge in his voice, and for the final time beat on the door, much harder. “I swear to god, man! He’s about to piss himself! Please!”
Then George sobbed, and when John looked at him, he was holding on tightly to his crotch, which was getting steadily more and more damp. His legs were crossed tightly as he willed his bladder to just hold on a little longer.
“Shit, Georgie. You’re alright.”
“What am I supposed to do, John? I’m peeing myself!” He looked at the older boy for help, but he had beat on the door two too many times and it was too late for George.
“Just go, George. It’s fine.”
“No!” George whined, but suddenly, his pelvic muscles caved, and a flood of piss was shot out of his cock, soaking the crotch of his pants and running down his right leg before puddling on the floor. “Oh, my god,” he cried, pulling his hands away from the mess to hide his face.
“Let’s just get back to the bus before they leave us, alright?” He started to walk, but George didn’t follow. “Geor—“
“No! I’m not going back on there! P-Paul’s on there. And everybody’s gonna see me, and they’re gonna know what I did!” John sighed in sympathy as he continued to rant, not having the energy to argue with him. “Stu’s probably gonna laugh so hard at me, and Eric—“
“Whoa, whoa,” John said cooly. “What are you talking about?”
“Do you know how much I just don’t wanna be the youngest?” he asked genuinely as he looked into John’s eyes. “You guys treat me like a child! All of you but Paul! And now I’ve just pissed myself, and I’m never gonna fucking live that down. You’ll all just—“
John tried to get his attention, but the guitarist continued rambling on. “George!” he shouted, grabbing the boy’s attention, red rimmed eyes now looking up from the ground with tears spilling out of them. “Georgie, the others aren’t gonna know. They’re back in Liverpool, remember?”
“... But won’t you tell them?”
John couldn’t help but laugh, much to the confusion of George. “Now, why would I do that?” George shrugged. “Well, I won’t, yeah? I wouldn’t want to embarrass you any more than is necessary.” He messed up George’s hair.
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Johnny.”
A smile appeared on the older boy’s lips. “Let’s go catch that bus, yeah? I’d be surprised if it was still there.”
George looked worriedly at him, and the two ran around to the front of the brick building to find that the bus was, indeed, still parked in the lot. They got back on, and the driver noticed George’s pants, but he didn’t say anything about them.
Paul, however, did. “George, what happened?”
“Funny,” George mumbled, sitting down next to him.
“What?”
“You asked what happened as if it weren’t fucking obvious.” He sighed as John sat down on the other side of Paul. As the bus started up again, John leaned over the boy to speak to George.
“Hey, Georgie…” George looked at him. “You know we respect you, right? Like you’re not just ‘the youngest’. You’re George. And you’re a mad guitar player, too, okay?”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“Love you, Georgie.”
The sides of George’s mouth curled up. “I love you, too. Both of you.”