Four Pints
Title Four Pints
Author lookrealmuggles
Rating: light NC-17
Warnings: Cursing, cursing, and more cursing. Sexual encounter.
Summary Written from this prompt: "In my experience the difference between a straight and a bisexual is about four pints." - Graham Norton from here
A/N: A big thank you to jpgr1963 or the support! This is my first story posted here and my first story with a sexual scene so please excuse the awkwardness. Comments (and critiques) are welcome!
Edit Sorry for the grammar and spelling mistakes everyone! LJ messed it up when I transferred it over, and I'm doing my best to fix it.
One pint, two pint, three pint, four. How many pints? Do you want some more?
Five pint, six pint, seven pint, eight. Shit. Oh, fuck! I've kissed me mate...
Pint one.
"That was a gear performance,” Stu smiled as he held up his pint sliding into a booth after finishing the band’s set for the evening.
The rest of boys all let out cheers of their own as the rest of them filed in. They all lifted their pints and clinked them together.
"Here’s to being the best bleeding band in Hamburg. Now drink your bloody drinks,” John shouted at the others. Paul grinned at John who sat next to him as John shot him a wink.
All the boys gulped down their drinks, spurred on by the adrenaline from their performance and their own desire to get drunk throwing back most of their beer.
After slamming down his empty pint, Paul looked up and around the Kaiserkeller taking in the crowd and watching Rory and the Hurricanes set up their equipment to play their part of the night.
"See any birds worth pulling, Paulie?” John slung his arm around the younger boy following Paul’s gaze out and over the crowd.
Paul returned his gaze to John who continued to look out trying to pick out his girl of the evening. Paul’s eyes ghosted over John’s face drawing a small grin from Paul. When John looked back at Paul expecting an answer, Paul quickly averted his eyes back to the crowd as blush spread across his cheeks.
George, sitting to Paul’s left, overheard the conversation and grinned as he leaned closer. Paul was pushed firmly into John’s side, which did nothing to reduce the darkening blush on Paul’s cheeks.
George patted John’s arm, “I spy a blonde bird with killer tits not 30 feet to our left. I’m sure the group of girls she’s with are more than willing after seeing our set.” George raised his eyebrows suggestively.
John took his hand off Paul’s shoulder to ruffle George’s hair affectionately. “Look at our little Georgie, all grown up trying to pull birds. You sure you’re old enough to handle her tits, son? Me thinks she needs someone older, more experienced.” John puffed out his chest and cleared his throat flashing George a grin.
“Ah, knock it off Lennon. Let the poor kid have the bird. I’m sure he’s sick of his hand after all these nights.” Stu chuckled as he swallowed the last bit of his beer.
“Oi,” George stood up pointing a finger at all of them as the group burst out laughing. “I bet the next round of beer that not only can I get he and satisfy her,” he flashed John and Stu irritated looks, “but I can even persuade her group of friends to come join you sorry lot.”
“You’re on, Georgie my boy.” Stu grinned and reached his hand across the table, which George took and shook harder than necessary to seal their deal.
With that, George stalked away from the table, determination set in his shoulders as he made a beeline for the table with the group of girls and Blonde Tits McGee.
“Look what you lot did,” Paul reluctantly pulled himself away from John to watch as George left. “I’m not going to be the one dealing with him when he gets back and acts all pissy because Tits McGee over there sends him packing back to us empty-handed.”
“Come off it, Paul. Have a look over there,” Pete pointed over to George at the table. The boys’ jaws dropped as the five women began standing up from their table.
George triumphantly walked the five women over in his arms.
“Buy up, Stu.”
“Not until you tell me how you fucking did it.”
Before George could answer, one girl, a pretty brunette with wide green eyes spoke up, “Ve…ah ve haf to sit hier, ja?”
Stu looked from the rest of his band mates to George as a smirk spread across George’s face.
“Buy up, Stu. Ja?”
The rest of the boys couldn't contain their laughter as Stu begrudgingly slid out of his seat to make his way to the bar.
“They barely speak English ya sneaky little bastard. That’s hardly fair.”
“A bets a bet Stu,” John replied to Stu’s back as Stu flashed them a V.
The girls slid into the booth seating themselves next to the boys. George sat down last, pulling the blonde down next to him.
When Stu returned a few minutes later and handed the pints around, John raised his second pint of beer. “To Georgie, the sneaky bastard that scored us all another round of free pints.”
Pint Two
With the arrival of the group of girls, the seating in the booth became tight. The heat from the press of Paul’s thigh against John’s drew John’s attention to their legs pressed together. The warmth seemed to radiate up from his thigh into John’s lower stomach. A small grin spread over his face before he shook it away and took a large gulp of his drink. Trying to ignoring the press of Paul’s thigh to his, John turned to the girl sitting next to him.
The girl gave a shy grin of her own.
“You’re a right pretty thing, you are.” John smirked as he took a sip of his beer.
The girl simply kept smiling. It was obvious she had no fucking clue what he was saying. He didn't have a clue what she was trying to say either - her bloody broken English was awful, but his German was probably worse.
John threw his arm around the girl. She was strikingly beautiful with a fair complexion that contrasted her dark hair and big, hazel eyes framed with lashes
“What did you say your name was, doll?”
“Andrea. You?”
“A name as beautiful as the girl. They call me John.” He threw her a wink before he took another gulp of beer.
When he looked back at Andrea, she was looking down at her hands blush staining her cheeks.
John and Andrea continued to chat as the evening wore on. By the time John had finished his second pint, he noticed that Stu had taken off - probably to hang out with Astrid - leaving Pete with both girls. George had taken blonde Tits McGee to the dance floor and had successfully stuck his tongue down her throat Good for the kid. Paul and the pretty redhead were deep in conversation
“Want another beer?”
Andrea looked at him blankly before flashing him a small smile and shrugging her shoulders. “Bitte?”
“Fuck, uh…noch ein Bier? I think?”
Andrea giggled before shaking her head, “Nein, danke.”
“A ‘right. I’ll be right back. Pete, take your threesome and fuckin’ move mate.”
Pete shot John a dirty look before taking the two girls’ hands and heading for the exit. John just chuckled. Fucking Pete man, he always did well with the birds. Probably because all the girls thought him pretty - he wasn't nearly as pretty as Paul though
Shit. Since when did he find Macca pretty? Must be the combination of the uppers, lack of sleep, and beer they had poured in themselves since before their first set. John got to the bar and ordered his beer. While he waited, he turned around to watch Rory and his band perform. That drummer of theirs was bloody brilliant.
“Herr Lennon, dein Bier.”
The man behind the bar slid John his beer as John slammed down the marks. “Thanks mate.”
John made his way back to the table. When he was close enough, he noticed that Andrea was no longer there. John slid back into the booth taking his spot next to Paul. He glanced quickly around the club before reasoning that she must have slipped off to the bathroom or outside for a ciggy. John shrugged to himself as he started his third pint of the evening.
Pint three.
Bitch. Fucking goddamn cunt
Twenty minutes passed by before John figured out that Andrea must have left for good while he was getting his beer. He knew he wasn't the most attractive man in the bar, he was no Paul or Pete or even Stu, but for fuck's sake he wasn't a hideous bastard. Was he? Seemed as though the birds thought so - at least Andrea did.
John crossed his arms and leaned back to sulk just as Paul pressed his thigh firmly against John’s again. This time however, seating wasn't tight in the booth.
The fuck?
John looked over. Paul had spread his legs wider to let the redheaded girl next to him slither her hand down to his crotch. A flare of something hot through John.
That strange feeling along with the heat from Paul’s thigh pressing into John’s sent a tingling sensation up his leg and into his lower abdomen.
Fuck what was that.
John looked up from Paul’s lap and to his face. He felt his stomach drop as he saw Paul’s eyes glance over at him before they fluttered shut and a small smirk appearing on his face as the girl continued to rub his clearly outlined dick in his tight leather pants
John looked away quickly, shaking his head to rid himself of the feeling that had overcome him.
"Johnny.”
The sound of his name shook him out of the trance he had fallen into as he attempted to figure out the feeling he had when he looked at Paul. He turned to face his best mate happily noticing that the girl’s hand was now gripping her empty pint instead of Paul. “Yea?”
“We’re going to get another pint mate, want me to get ya…oh you already got one.”
John shook his head quickly before downing his third pint in a few gulps.
“Well bottoms up mate,” Paul chuckles. “I’ll just grab you another pint, then.”
John nodded his head once to Paul as the younger man slid out of the bench. The pretty redhead grabbed Paul’s hand. John felt a spike of anger as she slipped herself closer to Paul wrapping her arm around his waist.
“Fuck,” John muttered to himself as he let his head fall back against the wall behind the booth. What was going on with him?
He looked back at the couple who were standing flush against each other by the bar.
Whore.
Why did Paul get to enjoy a night of raunchy fun, while he was stuck alone?
Dumb bitch.
Paul should be with John making him feel better - reassuring him that he wasn’t the ugliest fucking thing to set foot inside the club. Not with that slag that kept rubbing her ass in his crotch.
Fuck ‘em. Fuck them both.
Pint 4
Paul made his way over followed by the redheaded bird to give John his beer. John gave a slight grunt to acknowledge Paul and thank him for the pint
“Alright, Johnny?” Paul snaked his hand behind John’s neck gripping it.
John gave a slight shrug of his shoulders letting his eyes fall down to his pint. The redheaded girl grabbed Paul’s hand impatiently pulling him away from the booth to get to the dance floor. When John refused to look up and meet Paul’s eyes, Paul squeezed John’s neck in reassurance before letting go. His hand ran down John’s arm and across the back of John’s hand as he was drug away leaving John’s skin on fire in its wake.
After Paul left, John looked up and to the dance floor where the girl had herself pressed tightly against Paul, while they swayed to the music that Rory and his band was still producing
George and Tits McGee had returned to the table briefly for George to grab his leather jacket and throw John a wink before the two quickly made their exit from the club
Now John was all alone, sulking bitterly at the table. He wasn’t a very welcome sight, which deterred any of the other birds in the club from approaching him. He simply sat with his arms crossed, shooting daggers at Paul and his date for the evening.
Fucking Paul. Why should he get a bird?
John couldn’t think of a good reason that he should leave Paul to the girl he was with for the evening, when John didn’t have anyone for himself. As he drank more and more of his fourth pint, John found fewer and fewer reasons to let Paul take that dumb bitch home with him. By the time he finished his drink, John had worked himself up enough to push himself out from the booth and stomp across the floor straight towards the couple.
When John reached them, he simply grabbed Paul’s arm dragging him away from the bird out into the open air.
“Fucking hell, Lennon. What the fuck, mate?”
John didn’t say anything. He hung on to Paul’s arm and dragged him along farther away from the club down the alley they took to get back to their sleeping quarters. Paul finally managed to shake John off, shoving him into a wall.
“John, you prick, why did you pull me away from her?”
John stayed slumped against the wall staring at Paul silently. His eyebrows dipped together in agitation.
Paul raised his eyebrows expectantly before shaking his head. “Piss off.”
He began to walk away from John farther down the alley towards their bunks.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going McCartney?”
John quickly sprung back to life grabbing Paul’s arm again and pushing him back towards the wall on the other side of the alley.
“Why should you get a bird and have a nice fuck while I’m stuck alone? I don’t think that’s really fair mate.”
Paul tried to push himself back off the wall, but John shoved him back again. The action caused an already off-balance, drunk John to fall into Paul securely keeping him pinned to the wall.
“Not fucking fair at all.” John looked up into Paul’s eyes - hazel, brown eyes framed with lashes.
Paul let out a shaky breath as John continued to stare into Paul’s eyes; their bodies flush against each other. Paul allowed his eyes to flash briefly down to John’s lips before returning them to John’s eyes. “Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Paul murmured quietly.
John continued to stare into Paul’s eyes feeling a jolt of excitement in his chest and a hitch in his breathing when Paul glanced down to his mouth. “Dunno, but you better think of something.”
Paul’s breathing sped up slightly before he made up his mind. He had enough alcohol to give him the courage to do what he wanted to try since the first time he and John sat face to face playing guitar in the front room of his home, and to accept that he wanted it to happen.
John let his eyes flutter shut as Paul’s lips lightly brushed his. The tingling returned and resonated from his lips down his body. John opened his eyes briefly to catch eyes with Paul once more before John’s lips descended to Paul’s with desperation.
He wasted no time, shoving his tongue into Paul’s mouth and his body against Paul’s eliciting a soft groan from Paul. John’s hands slid down from the wall to Paul’s waist as Paul took over, flipping them so John was against the wall with Paul flush against him. John grabbed at Paul wanting him as close as he could get him
Paul pulled away to breath before his mouth latched on John’s neck sucking and biting while he thrust his now prominent bulge against John’s.
“Fuck Macca, don’t stop,” John whimpered as Paul continued his onslaught. John was on fire everywhere that Paul touched him and ached everywhere he wasn’t. He had never felt something so strong and overwhelming.
Paul brought his face up from John’s neck to rest his forehead against John’s. “I wasn’t planning to, love.” Paul bent down to kiss John briefly. “God Johnny, you feel so good.”
Paul’s thrusting sped up causing both men to let out a groan as their orgasm began to build in their lower bellies.
“Macca, Macca, Macca…” John chanted as he dropped his head to Paul’s shoulder. His hands slipped from Paul’s hips to his backside, pulling Paul against him harder and faster
Paul grabbed the back of John’s neck lifting him off his shoulder to slam his mouth to John’s just before his orgasm hit him. The feeling was overwhelming as it shot through his body. He let out a load groan, pulling his mouth from John’s and latching it on to his neck. When John heard Paul lose it, it pushed him over the edge
As John followed Paul in the most intense orgasm either had ever experienced, he pulled Paul tight against him allowing his head fell back against the wall to give Paul more room
The two of them lay pressed together against the wall attempting to catch their breath.
Finally, Paul lifted his head from John’s neck with a smile, “You need to strike and miss more often.”
“I’ll be a rat bastard to all other girls from now on,” John grinned as he pushed himself off the wall and threw his arm around Paul’s shoulders as the two continued down the alley to their beds.