Work Text:
Liverpool, 1962. 8:20pm
It’s freezing. -12°, and they just finished practice. And of course, Ringo left his coat.
“Can see my own breath in this weather, where’s my bloody coat?” He then realized that he, of course, left it there. Didn’t want to make a scene though, so he kept walking home.
George walked around, doing light cleaning after practice. It was getting late.
“Huh?” A dark coat was left sitting on a chair. George went over and picked it up. Ringo! Of course! He thought he left something there. So, George grabbed the coat, and went out the door.
Ringo kept walking, unaware of George running behind him. “Ringo!” George yelled. “You left your coat.”
“Oh, thank you!” Ringo said, taking the coat, “Getting colder by the minute out here.” His cheeks were like a ladybug, bright red. His fingers shook as he slipped the coat on, feeling the warmth of it as soon as the fabric touched his skin. He coughed, his throat scratchy.
“You alright, Richie?”
“Yeah—” He coughed again, “Just the weather messin’ up my throat.”
George shook his head, “I’ll walk you home, it’s freezing out. Don’t want you catchin’ a cold out here.” George stepped a little— no, a tad bit closer to Ringo. Ringo didn’t notice, too busy trying to get warmer.
8:30pm
It’s only just a bit longer until he’s home. And guess what? Still too cold. Ringo shivered. “Still cold?” George asked.
“Fine,” brushing off the question, “Just the wind.” Not believing him, George absent mindedput his arm around Ringo’s shoulder. Immediately, Ringo tensed up. The hell? We don’t do this? But he couldn’t deny the fact that he was warmer. He smiled a little, not a lot, just a little. One of them where you have to bite the corners of your mouth to keep it from going too big.
Ringo gently placed his head on George’s shoulder, trying to soak in as much warmth as he could. It was like a little room, in a little house, with them as the two little people in it. Just a simple act, but still enough to leave a mark.
As the sidewalk stretched into Ringo’s yard, they carefully let go— stretching out the moment for as long as possible.
“See you next practice.”
“See ya.”
The door closed behind him.
George stood there. Even as the cold air blew from the clouds, the lingering touch still was there.
And so, he walked home.