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George was in the middle of watching the television with his parents in the living room when he heard the house’s telephone ring. The phone was mounted on a wall in a different room, but George could still hear it, and it bothered him.
“I’ll get it.” He sighed, reluctantly standing up from his couch, running a hand through his hair as he made his way to the kitchen, where the ringing was coming from.
His eyes lit up when he heard Paul’s voice come from the speakers.
“Georgie!” Paul sounded excited.
“Paul! What is it?” George smiled.
“Sorry, I know it’s late, innit? But, the lads are all sleeping over at mine tonight, and I want you to come! Eh.. Richie’s making a mess of my room.” Paul mumbled that last part.
“Er..” George rubbed the back of his neck. “I dunno if me parents would let me.” He admitted.
Paul paused for a moment, and his next words sounded a bit dejected and sad. “Oh. Well, alright.”
Immediately sensing the uncomfortable shift in the tone, George stammered out a reply. “But wait, I’ll ask, yeah? Don’t go anywhere yet.” He set the phone on the nearby kitchen counter and poked his head back into the living room where his parents were.
“Mum, Dad, can I sleep over at Paul’s tonight?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he nervously smiled. He genuinely did want to go, as Paul was his best friend and they hadn’t spent much time together recently.
George’s Mum looked at his dad for him to give their son the okay, and his father nodded, making eye contact with George.
“Yeah, alright.” He turned his attention back to the television.
George grinned, picking up the phone again to tell Paul.
“Never mind, I can go!” George giggled, hanging up the phone.
He quickly got his bag sorted, not bothering to bring a change of clothes since Paul usually let him borrow his in the mornings. What he did bring in his large shoulder bag was a new record he bought recently that he thought the lads would like. He loved sharing his music with the others, especially Paul.
After saying goodbye to his parents for the night, he began making his way to Paul’s house. It was winter time, so his father made him wear a heavy coat and multiple scarves. It annoyed George, and he thought he looked silly. He was almost fifteen, he should be able to make his own decisions, and he didn’t want to walk around looking like a clown just because it was a little chilly.
George’s mind drifted to what Paul had said earlier, about their new friend Richard being there. Or.. ‘Ringo’, which was what he told the birds to call him when they occasionally played music in public. Frankly, George thought the stage name was a bit silly.
George didn’t know a lot about Richie, since the lad had just started hanging out with the others. He was nearly seventeen and a half, much older than George, so he always thought Richie was sort of intimidating. He seemed respectful, but still. Maybe he’d get to know him a bit better at the sleepover.
Soon, he reached the doorstep of Paul’s townhouse, and smiled as he knocked on the door, waiting for a few moments before Paul opened the door. John and Richie were messing around in the kitchen just behind him.
“Paulie, hi!” George grinned, stepping into his house and immediately taking off his scarves and jacket, putting them on the coatrack near the door. He noticed how the coatrack looked particularly empty, with only one other jacket on it.
He shifted his attention towards John and Richie, waving towards them excitedly. He walked up towards them, and they were eating sandwich cookies while sitting on the kitchen counter.
“You two should get off the counter. Paul’s mum really gave it to me the last time she saw me sittin’ on ‘em..” He muttered, snickering quietly.
John let out a giggle, rolling his eyes.
“Dont be daft, Geo,” He smiled, shrugging. “Paul’s parents are out of town. Didn’t he tell you?”
George’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.
“They are?” He looked back. That must be why the coatrack was so empty. And why Richie and John were acting like louts, sitting on counters.
George shrugged, smiling. “That’s proper cool, though.”
George always saw John as a bit of an older brother figure. He was seventeen like Richie was, but George and Paul had known him for longer. Truthfully, he didn’t really know how to feel about Paul’s parents being gone. He hadn’t really planned to act out or anything in the first place, so it didn’t make much difference.
“Aye, it is,” Richie finally spoke, smiling, looking down at George with those downturned, blue eyes.
George nervously nodded, but turned his attention back to Paul when he saw him walk towards the exit of the kitchen and towards the stairs of the house.
Paul signaled with a nod of his head upwards to the other lads to follow him, and they did, following him all the way up to his room.
When they all finally got into his room, George found it a bit cramped with everyone, but he didn’t mind much. And Paul was right about Richie trashing his room earlier, it definitely looked messy, which made George giggle when he saw it.
George sat next to Paul on his bed, their shoulders brushing slightly.
“Paul, guess what?” George grinned, leaning forward to make eye contact with the other boy.
Paul’s head perked up slightly as he made eye contact with George as well, tilting his head in curiosity. “What is it?”
“So, you know how I went to the record store last week? Wednesday, after school.” He began taking his bag off, setting it on Paul’s bed as he took his record out. The plastic casing was still on.
“It’s The Everly Brothers. This record came out just a few weeks ago, yeah?” George smiled when Paul excitedly took the record from him, the boy flipping the record around to look at both sides in awe.
“Oh, look at that! That’s brilliant!” Paul grinned. “You don’t mind if I play it, do you? Can I take the casing off?” He asked, though his fingers were already working at peeling the plastic cover off.
George nodded, smiling. He blushed slightly, just a bit embarrassed. Though he was happy to see Paul happy. It made him feel a surge of pride. Usually Paul was the one surprising George with fancy new records and impressing him with the newest pop culture facts, but the change was nice.
As Paul stood up to put the music in his record player, he noticed how John and Richie were also watching him, their banter being put to a halt.
“Are you putting music on, Macca?” John asked, smiling up at Paul.
“Yeah, George just bought this. It’s.. what’s it called?” Paul looked at the front of the record again. “Everly Brothers. Y’know, I heard they’d sounded good, and I've been eyeing this one record for a bit, but now I can get a proper listen!” Paul rambled, smiling as he eagerly put the vinyl into the record player, turning the machine on before the sound of the music filled the room.
George smiled at Paul’s words, feeling a surge of pride again with that familiar twinge of embarrassment.
“I thought you might like it,” He mumbled, trying to stifle his smile.
George hadn’t heard this unique sound from any other rock n’ roll group or singer before. The Everly Brothers had this quirk in their vocals where it was the both of them singing, not just one or the other. George let himself smile properly, finding the music pleasant.
“I like it, George. You’ve got good taste, innit?” Richie sat up properly, looking at George and smiling, shrugging.
“Mm, I think I've heard some of their records before. I like their sound, though.”
John nodded, his eyes widening slightly.
“It’s great!” He stood up, making his way towards Paul’s bed where the record’s cardboard jacket was, and he was reading the details of it.
“You have got good taste, Hassa.”
His words sounded slightly condescending to George, but he shrugged it off, instead offering a smile to John and nodding.
George only started to get annoyed when John ruffled his hair, as if he was a child or something. He turned his head away, frowning slightly. He hated when his friends treated him like he was a kid, especially John.
Well.. he was a kid.. but he didn’t like being reminded how much younger he was than the rest of his friends.
“Oh, bugger off.” He mumbled.
Paul was digging through the top drawer in his dresser, looking for something. George noticed, and shifted his attention towards him.
“You alright?” George stood up, walking to where Paul was, watching as he dug through his drawer. The other boy looked focused, biting his lip slightly as he searched for whatever it was.
“He’s lookin’ for the booze he hid.” John snickered, leaning forward on the foot of Paul’s bed to get closer to the two. Richie sat next to John too.
“What?” George quickly turned his head to face John. His eyes were darting in between Paul and him. His eyebrows furrowed, and he began to feel uneasy.
“Y-Yeah. If I could bloody find it, we could..” Paul’s sentence trailed off, and he frustratedly closed his top drawer, opening the one below it before he quickly found the bottle. It was a half empty bottle of whiskey.
George fiddled with the hem of his shirt, staring at the bottle. He had never drank before, not any more than the small sips his parents would let him have of their wine occasionally.
“Aren’t you a little young to be drinking, Paul?” Richie frowned slightly, picking up the bottle from Paul’s hands and looking at it. “You’re such a lout, Macca.” He joked, laughing.
“Well.. I don’t really do it a lot.” Paul replied, shrugging. “But I thought it might be fun? Since me parents aren’t home.” He put his hands in his pockets, looking a bit awkward.
George was still silent, still feeling a bit nervous.
John took the bottle from Richie, looking at the label as well. “This is some pretty good stuff, though, Paul. Didn’t know your parents could afford this.” John smiled up at Paul. “You’re right, though. This’ll make tonight a lot more fun, innit?” He opened the bottle, taking a swig, his face scrunching up slightly. He offered it to Paul, and he took a small sip as well.
“Er.. George, you don’t.. you don’t drink, do you?” Paul asked, offering the bottle towards him slightly.
George knew Paul knew he never drank alcohol. George was only fourteen, what business could he have with getting drunk?
“Uhm..” George picked at his nails, something he did when he was nervous. “S-.. I mean.. Sometimes.” He lied. His eyes darted towards John and Richie, wanting them to believe him. He wanted to look more grown in front of everyone. He took the bottle from Paul’s hands and pressed the opening to his lips, the amber liquid burning his throat slightly. The sip he took was extremely small and he coughed right after, passing the bottle to Richie. He coughed several more times, trying to get rid of the burning sensation in his throat.
“Eugh, bloody hell..” George muttered, wiping his mouth with his forearm. He could feel the eyes of everyone else on him. They were staring. He blushed, looking away.
“Someones a little liar,” John giggled. “It’s alright, Geo. I wouldn't expect you to be drinkin’ at your age.”
“John, I’m not that young! Come on now,” George snapped, frowning.
Richie passed the bottle to John before speaking again.
“George, ‘s alright. really. If you don’t want to drink any, you don’t have to.” He offered him a soft smile, shrugging.
George found his words kind, but now he felt the need to drink more of the liquid. He felt a mix of wanting to prove that he wasn’t a kid and not wanting to be left out.
After Paul took his sip, his face recoiling slightly, he handed the bottle to George.
George quickly took the bottle and took several large sips, his throat stinging even more. He set it down on top of Paul’s dresser and squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the bitter taste.
He felt Paul’s hand on his shoulder shortly after.
“George? You alright?”
George finally opened his eyes, straightening himself enough to look Paul in the eyes, smiling nervously. “I’m fine.. Yeah.” He sighed, growing a little embarrassed when Paul’s hand didn’t leave his shoulder.
A bit of time passed, about half an hour or so, and the lads eventually finished the bottle. Most of it was drank by John and Richie. All of them were sitting on Paul’s bed now, with Paul sitting in the middle near his pillows, and George next to him. The other two were closer to the foot of the bed, loudly joking with each other.
George felt physically awful. He had the worst headache, and he couldn’t think straight. He didn’t even think he had that much to drink. Neither did Paul, but he was still leaning his head on George’s shoulder, mumbling about how much his head hurt. George didn’t think much about how close Paul was, but he did feel a bit shy with the proximity.
“Er.. Paul?” George mumbled, turning to face the other boy, looking down at his hair where he was leaning on him. He made sure to lower his voice. “I’m not.. feeling the best.” He sighed.
“You’ll be fine,” Paul replied, shrugging. “Just let it be for a while, it’ll go away.. I.. probably.”
George opened his mouth to speak again, but John spoke before he could.
“Oi, I’m bored. Wanna go out?” He offered, turning his body to face Paul and George. He laid down slightly, propping up his head with his hand, his arm resting on the mattress.
“Out? Uhm.. Is anything open?” George shrugged.
“Well, I doubt it, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun,” Richie smiled.
“Yeah,” John nodded. “We couldddd.. go to the park? The trainyard?”
Paul sat up slightly, placing his hand on George’s thigh to stabilize himself. “We could go to the trainyard. I like to go there sometimes to mess with the security guards.” He laughed.
“What?” George raised an eyebrow, looking down at Paul. “You absolute git.” He giggled. “That does sound fun, though,” He smiled, watching as Richie took the record off of the record player and into its casing, putting it down on a nearby shelf.
“It’s a plan, then.” John stood up, stretching his arms over his head. He was walking a bit funny, but he eventually made his way out of Paul’s room, with Richie following him and then Paul.
George stood up too, but immediately had to stabilize himself on a nearby wall to not fall over. He felt extremely dizzy, and a wave of nausea had crashed through him, too.
Paul immediately noticed, and made his way back to George, putting a hand on his shoulder again. “Are you okay?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing. Paul’s jaw clenched slightly as his eyes met George’s.
George blinked, trying to gather his words.
“Yeah.. Just..” He swallowed, trying to stifle down the nausea. Now the main feeling was his balance being thrown off. He took a deep breath and stood up, nearly falling over again before Paul caught his waist, making sure he didn’t fall.
George smiled nervously, eventually managing to stand up straight without help.
“Thanks,” he murmured, suddenly feeling a bit shy. When Paul took his hands off of his body, he followed him out of the room, eventually joining John and Richie outside. It was pitch black outside, the only light coming from the orange glow of the street lamps.
Paul stood next to George, uncomfortably close. The other boy’s body was swaying slightly, and his hand was occasionally brushing against George’s. He wasn’t sure why, but the contact sent a nervous tingle throughout his body. He nervously put his hands in his pockets, feeling his face heat up. He was sure it was just from the alcohol.
He noticed he was the only one not wearing a jacket out of the group. It must’ve slipped his mind. Oh well. It was only five degrees out, he’d live.
“Where’s the trainyard? It’s that way, innit?” John asked, pointing to his right.
“Yeah.” Paul nodded, beginning to walk in that direction.
George followed closely behind him, but John was the one to walk next to Paul, bantering with him. George didn’t really care, but he’d rather he be the one talking to Paul.
Him and Richie ended up walking behind the others, but there was a bit of an awkward silence between them for a while.
Finally, Richie spoke, nudging George’s shoulder.
“Do you smoke?” He asked, searching in his pockets for a pack of cigarettes. Richie’s words were slightly slurred and his eyes looked glazed.
George had never even thought of smoking a cigarette before, but his mind was foggy and he still wanted to make himself seem more grown.
“Sure I do,” He quietly lied, shrugging. When Richie offered him a cigarette, he carefully took it, holding it in between his fingers as the other boy lit it. The amber lit tip of the cigarette burned in the dark air. He felt a bit uneasy about smoking, but he brought the butt of the cigarette against his lips and inhaled, the smoke filling his lungs. He quickly pulled the cigarette out from his mouth, coughing.
Paul turned around to face George, looking concerned.
“You’re smokin’?” Paul asked, tilting his head slightly in confusion. He had never seen George smoke before.
George uncomfortably took another drag of the cigarette, still looking incredibly inexperienced. He coughed again, his eyes darting between Paul and Richie.
“What about it?” He mumbled.
“N..Nothin’,” Paul shrugged.
Richie offered Paul and John their own cigarettes and they took them, before Richie grabbed his own and lit all of them with his lighter.
George felt even more like a child now. He knew smoking was incredibly normal for everyone his age, even Paul, but this was his first time. And he didn't even particularly like how it felt or tasted.
He took another longer drag of his cigarette, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration.
After a bit more time walking, the lads eventually reached the trainyard Paul was talking about. It was fairly empty, so Paul walked over to the tracks, sitting down on the metal rail.
“That walking tuckered me out. Can we all sit down for a moment?” He looked up at the others.
George was the first to join him, sitting close by him. He noticed how tired Paul looked, his lips slightly parted.
“Thanks, Geo,” Paul smiled.
George felt that wave of nausea and dizziness hit him again, so he leaned on Paul slightly to stabilize himself. He took a deep breath, trying to stifle it down.
The others sat with them too, John next to Paul and Richie next to George.
“You two are such lightweights,” John joked, nudging Paul’s shoulder with his elbow and tapping George’s foot with his.
“Of course you’re gonna get pissed quick if you’ve never drank before, though.” John snickered, stumbling over his words slightly. “Right, Geo?”
George didn’t even realize what John had said, his mind too foggy, until he heard his name.
“What?” He leaned forward to look at him, his mind trying to trace back to what he said.
“It was nothin’,” Paul quietly said, looking George in the eyes.
“Oh. Alright..” George blinked.
Paul leaned on him a bit too. “Me head still hurts.” He frowned, reaching up to grab at his forehead, wincing slightly.
George’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry, Paul..” He didn’t want to admit it, but he was in a lot of pain too. He couldn’t quite think straight. He didn’t realize it for a minute, but Paul was leaning his head on George’s shoulder again. His heart was beating a bit faster for a reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“We.. uh-.. are you feeling less tired now, Paul? We could.. uh..” He bit his lip out of unease.
“Mm.. uhm.. I’m fine, yeah,” Paul sighed. His head leaned further onto George’s shoulder, his breath ticking the side of his cheek.
George’s breath hitched, a pink flush creeping up his neck.
He quickly stood up, his hand on Paul’s shoulder to stabilize himself, before he helped him up too.
Paul smiled at George after he helped him up, thanking him. It made George feel a strange tingle in his chest, his face growing more warm.
There was a group of older blokes walking around, all in the same black uniform shirt and tie, wearing white trousers. They were bantering with each other, but looked watchful of their surroundings. They were walking around the actual train station of the site, so they weren’t too close.
“Who are they?” John asked, standing up as well.
“Mm, probably security.” Richie stood up, dusting his pants off. “We’re not allowed to be here, but we’ll be fine.”
Paul was walking towards a nearby stagnant train a few meters away, grinning. The other three followed him.
“What’re..-” George began, his words trailing off. He watched Paul pick up a large pebble from the ground, peeking his head behind the front of the train. The security guards were nearby, walking across the main platform of the train station.
George’s breath hitched in fear when Paul threw the pebble at a nearby trash can, getting the men’s attention, their heads snapping towards the trash can in confusion. They both ducked their bodies behind the train again just in time.
“Paul!” George whisper-yelled.
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Paul giggled, still grinning. “I do this all the time. It’s just a bit of fun.”
Richie let out a laugh before he stifled it, trying not to give away their hiding spot. “Do it again!”
George was biting his nails out of nervousness.
“Yeah, Paul, mess with ‘em some more,” John agreed, grinning with amusement.
This time, they all poked their heads around the front of the train, wanting to see the guards’ reaction. Paul threw another rock, hitting the same trash can, but since the pebble was bigger, it caused a louder reaction, and this time, all of the lads saw the guards’ heads snap in their direction before they could duck back.
Paul’s eyes went wide, but he was still grinning. He gestured with a nod of his head for the others to follow him as he quickly stood up and began to run. He ran for a few meters, but when he saw nobody was following him, he frustratedly went back and yanked George’s hand, pulling him up and dragging him along as they kept going.
George’s breath hitched again. His legs were moving on their own out of fear. Him and Paul’s fingers were fully interlocked as they ran.
George looked behind his shoulder to see the other lads running elsewhere into a patch of trees, with John being practically dragged behind Richie, struggling to keep up.
He couldn’t breathe at all as they ran. Each breath was shallower and came out quicker than the last.
“Paul!” He gasped, unable to take a full breath. He couldn’t finish his words. Looking behind his shoulder once more, he realized the guards were no longer chasing them, if they even were in the first place.
“They’re-” He paused, his running becoming slower as he lost energy. “They’re gone.”
He watched Paul look over his shoulder as well, and his running slowed down too until they both reached a dark alleyway several blocks away from the train station.
Paul leaned against the brick wall, his chest heaving. He was hyperventilating slightly.
George collapsed onto the ground, sitting down next to Paul, his back against the wall. He was trying to regain his breath, but he still couldn’t take a full breath very easily.
“Bloody hell..” Paul sighed, putting his hands on his knees, leaning forward.
“Sorry about that,” He turned his head to face George, looking down at him. “Are you okay, Geo?” He immediately sounded concerned.
George nodded, still trying to catch his breath. He didn’t expect to have to run at all. He felt like he might pass out right now, even though he was sitting down.
“What..?” He squinted, looking up at him through blurry vision.
When Paul put a hand on his shoulder, his thumb tracing circles into the fabric of his shirt, George felt a subtle flush creep up his neck again. He turned his head away, not meeting Paul’s eyes.
“I’m fine,” He sighed, running a hand through his now sweat-covered hair.
He was getting a bit worried with how dizzy and disoriented he felt. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to pass out in a dodgy alley like this. That’d be embarrassing.
“I shouldn’t have drank anything..” He finally mumbled, opening his eyes. He stared at the ground, feeling a twinge of shame and embarrassment.
Paul frowned, still looking George in the eyes.
“You shouldn’t have. You’ve never even drank before, have you?”
“Uh..” George bit his lip in embarrassment. “No.”
“Well, why did you?” Paul’s words were slightly slurred. He was looking at him with a slightly pouty expression.
George sighed, his lip quivering slightly.
“I just wanted to seem more mature. I.. I guess. Y'know, more grown up lookin’. I dunno..” He shrugged, avoiding eye contact with Paul out of embarrassment.
“Ohhh..” Paul tilted his head in understanding, nodding. “Yeah, alright. I get that.” His body leaned into George’s a bit more.
“I guess it sounds kind of silly, but I sort of feel the same way sometimes? Like.. wantin’ to be something I'm not in order to look cool, I guess.” He shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like I drink either. I’m.. I'm not feeling my best right now either.” He frowned. His hand moved from George’s shoulder to his chin, turning his head to the side so he had to make eye contact with him.
“Uh-” George stammered, his face turning warm again.
“You don’t smoke either, do you?” Paul giggled, his words slurred again. George noticed how Paul’s hazel eyes were glazed over and a bit unfocused. “Do you like cigarettes? They’re nice, aren’t they?” He murmured, smiling lazily.
George’s hands fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, trying to make sense of what was happening.
Was Paul the strange one? Or was George? He thought Paul had been acting strangely touchy all night, but maybe that was just the alcohol making him think that? Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him because he wanted Paul to seem touchy? But why would he want that? And why was he so flustered right now? What is happening?
“Uhm.. they're alright, I guess..” He bit the inside of his cheek.
Paul let out a soft giggle.
“I’m sorry you feel like you gotta put on an act for people sometimes like you said. Y'know, it must be hard bein’ the youngest out of us. Richie and John are real old, aren’t they?” He smiled softly, holding eye contact with George.
“Uhm..” George felt another headache coming on, squeezing his eyes for a moment when he felt the throbbing feeling come through.
“Yeah. I, uh.. guess I'm not much younger than you though, innit?” He was just trying to make some more conversation, trying not to think about how strange he felt.
“Yeah.. I guess so. Your birthday’s comin’ up soon too though, heh.” Paul murmured. His eyes wandered down to the other boy’s body.
“George, sorry! I didn’t even realize.” Paul pulled his hand away from George’s chin, leaving him feeling slightly empty and strange. Paul suddenly looked more conscious, fidgeting with the buttons of his coat. “You’re shaking like a leaf, take my coat.” Paul removed his coat, giving it to George.
He hadn’t even realized how cold he had been, since the adrenaline from since they arrived at the trainyard had overridden the coldness completely. However, now that Paul had pointed it out, he did feel rather chilly.
“Oh. Thanks.. I, uh..” His words trailed off. He took the coat from Paul and put it on, smiling at him.
Paul leaned into George again, his head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around his neck.
“It fits you nicely, doesn’t it?”
He was fiddling with a loose thread on George’s sleeve.
At this point, George’s breath had gotten incredibly shallow again.
“It does,” He squeaked, his voice higher than normal.
“We should, uhm..” He swallowed. “Should we try to find John and Richie..?” He twiddled his thumbs together, trying to change the setting.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Paul mumbled.
George took initiative and stood up after a few moments of Paul staying seated. He helped him stand up as well, their fingers interlocking as he pulled Paul up.
The two began walking around the city and towards the train station. That’s probably where they had the best chance of finding John and Richie, after all.
After a while of walking, the two of them eventually approached the back of the station. George was a little nervous the security guards would spot them again, but his worrying was interrupted by a familiar voice.
“Oi!” The voice cut through. It sounded like John.
George whipped his head around to see where the voice was coming from, and low and behold, it was John and Richie.
“Oh! Hey, you two.” Paul smiled, walking towards them.
George followed, hovering slightly behind Paul.
“Christ, one of those fucking guards kept chasin’ us until we were halfway across the city. Talk about being devoted to your job,” Richie complained, shrugging.
“I’m glad you lot are safe.” He smiled.
“Yeah, and I'm glad we found you,” Paul slurred, grinning. “Can we go back home..? I’m exhausted now.”
“You’re the one who suggested messin’ with those guards,” John slurred, not quite making a point.
George was barely listening to their conversation, not being able to tell what they were talking about.
His mind kept drifting back to the alleyway, and how close he had been to Paul. How his hands felt on him. How he tilted his head up like he wanted to..
Christ, George, get a grip.. You’re just drunk. He was only being nice. He quietly sighed. He noticed the group beginning to walk in the direction of Paul’s house again, so George followed. He was sort of hovering in the back, and Paul joined him. He had a lazy smile plastered onto his face, his eyes still unfocused.
“Tonight was fun.” Paul quietly said, walking next to George. His smile faltered slightly when he saw how uncomfortable and tense the other boy looked.
“Right..” George sighed, nodding. He gave Paul a nervous smile. Between his anxiety, the alcohol, and how much he ran earlier, it was hard for him to walk and keep up with the rest of the lads.
Paul seemed to notice this, because he hooked George’s arm around his shoulders, supporting him as they both walked behind Richie and John.
“I got ya.” Paul mumbled, smiling.
George felt his face heat up again. He politely nodded.
“Uhm..” He began, biting his lip. “Thanks for the.. the coat. Again. But are you sure you don’t want it back?”
Paul shook his head.
“Naw. I’m good..”
George nodded, looking elsewhere again. “Right. Thanks..”
The group eventually reached Paul’s once again, and they all hurried inside as soon as his townhouse was in view.
“God, it’s so warm in here.” John dramatically sighed, dropping his coat somewhere.
“Pick that up, you git!” Richie groaned, putting his and John’s jackets on the coatrack.
When Paul and George stumbled through the doorway, George’s arm was still wrapped around the other boy’s shoulders, and he didn’t realize it after a few seconds. He embarrassedly pulled away, smiling at Paul nervously as he put his jacket on the coatrack as well.
The coat smelled like him. He thought, biting his lip nervously.
Paul began making his way upstairs to his room, and the others followed. The three of them were joking about something, but George couldn’t focus on anything in particular, his mind still clouded by a heavy fog. He sleepily made his way up the stairs, nearly bumping into John at the top, before they all made their way into Paul’s room.
“What a night,” John sighed, sitting on Paul’s bed. “I’m knackered.”
“Mm, so am I..” Paul mumbled. He waited for George to come into his room before he took another step forward.
Paul took a step towards his closet and pulled out several sleeping bags. He only had three of them. He set them out neatly on the floor next to his bed, getting pillows from his closet as well.
John immediately laid down on one of them, not bothering to change out of his day clothes. He had looked exhausted this entire night, so he probably needed the rest. “Thanks, Paul,” John sighed, taking his glasses off and reaching out to put them on Paul’s nightstand.
Richie was the next to get into a sleeping bag.
“Innit? Me legs feel like I've been runnin’ for hours, this is nice.” He murmured, putting his head on his pillow.
George was about to get into the last open sleeping bag, the one closest to the real bed, but Paul stopped him, tapping his back as he was bending down.
“You should really take the bed,” He said, nodding towards his bed.
George blinked, standing up. “Are you sure?” His eyes darted between Paul and his bed.
“‘Course. Get comfortable. You’re already in pain, I don’t want you on the floor.” Paul offered him a warm smile, patting his back as George settled into his bed.
George sighed, closing his eyes. He pulled the blanket up to his chin. His headache was beginning to go away, as well as the dizzying nausea that had lasted the whole night. He heard the voices of John and Richie die down as he waited for sleep to take him.
Creeeakkkkk..
George’s eyes snapped open when he felt the weight of someone else on the bed. The light was still on, so it was incredibly obvious who had just gotten into bed with him. Paul.
“Oh- I.. I thought you were gonna take the..” He gestured to the sleeping bag on the floor.
Paul giggled, getting under the covers. He turned off the light that was on his nightstand.
“I changed my mind.. I wanna be with you.” He slurred, getting closer to the other boy in bed.
George’s breath hitched as he felt Paul getting closer.
What was happening? Was Paul going to.. try anything? No, of course not, George. Stop being silly. But.. He’s been acting weird all night. No he hasn’t! You’re the one who’s acting weird, George. God, I feel dizzy again.
He argued with his own thoughts for several more moments, his anxiety coming back. His eyes widened when he felt Paul’s arm drape around his waist, pulling him in close. His breathing got faster again.
Christ, he's so close.
“It’s alright, Geo.” Paul tightened his grip on George slightly. “Are you okay? You’re breathin’ really..”
Before Paul could finish his sentence, George did his best to calm his breathing, not wanting it to be too obvious how much he was panicking.
“I’m fine,” He blurted out, interrupting Paul.
Paul raked his free hand through George’s hair, his other arm tightening on George’s waist affectionately.
“I’m proud of you for today, y'know." He whispered. “Sorry I got all of us into a bit of trouble, heh,”
“It’s alright,” George murmured, biting his lip out of anxiety. “Uh.. a-and, uhm, thanks. For the first part of your.. s.. sentence.” He squeezed his eyes shut out of embarrassment.
Paul giggled. He was facing the back of George’s head, but George could still smell the slight acrid scent of the alcohol still on Paul’s breath.
He draped one of his legs around George’s body, practically enclosing him. “Jus’ stay here..” He sleepily said, his words half-slurred.
George nervously nodded.
He almost liked the contact, and how close he was to Paul. It definitely wasn’t in his head—the alcohol was making Paul act funny for sure. But.. he didn’t find himself wanting to move, even if his brain was screaming at him to just get in the sleeping bag on the floor already.
After a few more minutes, Paul shifted his weight, taking his leg and arm off of him to instead put his legs on either side of George’s body, same with his arms, practically pinning the other boy there, under him.
George blinked, moving his body so he’d have a better view of Paul’s face. What on earth was happening? He decided he didn’t quite like this anymore, as he was getting more and more uneasy.
“P-Paul..” He stammered.
Paul cupped one side of George’s face with his hand, stroking the skin there with his thumb.
“I think you’re mature enough to not need to fake it, y’know?” He whispered into one of George’s ears. “From what we were talkin’ about earlier, I mean..” He mumbled.
George’s face instantly warmed up again, and his head whipped around to check if John or Richie had heard. The light was off at this point, so he couldn’t tell, but he shushed Paul anyway.
“P-Paul! Don’t say.. th..that.”
“Sorry, sorry. I'm just sayin’.” Paul shrugged, cupping both sides of George’s face.
After a few more moments of Paul’s glazed, unfocused eyes being stuck on George’s face, George decided to reach up to cup Paul’s face too, but only with one hand. He was still incredibly confused on what was happening, but something about this felt strangely right. No matter how wrong it was in reality..
“Uhm.. you’re.. real close, Paul.” His breath hitched when he felt one of Paul’s thumbs graze his bottom lip.
He was getting super nervous now. Was Paul trying to do what he thought? He didn’t want to do that. Did he..? He wouldn’t mind it very much.
Argh! My mind is racing so much. I can't stand this. What is he trying to do?! George squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on anything except for his racing heart.
His thoughts were put to a halt when he felt Paul’s lips press against his.
George’s breathing was put to a complete stop. A few seconds later, he felt Paul’s tongue slip into his mouth, eliciting a quiet whimper from George. Paul tasted like a mix of stale alcohol and smoke.
He pulled away, pushing Paul away slightly.
“P-Paul!” He whispered, his breath still labored.
Paul was placing fluttery, open kisses on George’s neck now.
“Paul!!” George whispered, this time louder. “Q-Quit it..” His eyes darted to the ground, praying the others couldn’t hear anything.
Paul turned George’s head around to face him, and pulled him in for another kiss, this time giving George room to breathe, except not for long. He pulled him in by his hair, forcing him to stay in place.
When he broke the kiss, a trail of saliva connected their two mouths. Paul wiped his own mouth and then George’s, wiping away the excess spit with a swipe of his thumb.
“P-Paul, seriously.. I..” George began, but the words died in his throat.
Do I want this..?
He bit his lip in frustration. If he made any more noise, surely the others would wake up.
U-Uhm.. Maybe? Maybe.. B-But.. Not like this.
“Paul, I-..”
His words were once again interrupted by one last kiss from him, this time with Paul whimpering softly against his mouth.
George heard the soft rustle of a sleeping bag on the floor, and assumed the worst: that someone had woken up. George, with surprising strength, pulled away from Paul, shifting to the farthest side of the bed from him. His chest was heaving and his breaths became quick again.
He hated how much he liked that kiss. He hated whatever just happened. Because if Paul didn’t remember this in the morning, he’d have a lot of complicated feelings to deal with.
He winced, curling up into a ball and facing the wall as he tried to sleep again, shutting his eyes.
What’s wrong with me? He thought. Paul wrapped his arms around him once again, pulling him into another embrace. A part of him wanted to yank Paul off of him, to tell him to bugger off, but another part of him wanted to kiss him again right there until neither of them could breathe.
What a night. Christ.. He thought, frowning. He finally felt the wave of sleep crash over him.