Of Beautiful Nights and Horror-Filled Twilights (4/?)
Title: Of Beautiful Nights and Horror-Filled Twilights (4/?)
Pairings: John/Paul, George/Ringo
Rating: NC-17
Timeline: 1973-ish
Warnings: language, sexual content, angst, mentions to rape/abuse
Author: me!! :D
Disclaimer: I don't own dem D: sadly.
Authors Note: :D I've been wanting to write this fic for FOR. EVER. It just kinda came to me in a dream, so I'm like 'hey, why the hell not?' So just bear with me!!
Every chapter is 3 weeks later, unless specified as different.
Okay I totally messed up on the last cut. D: sorry about that!
"Ringo!" George tried bringing his lover back, he tried his hardest. But nothing seemed to be working. "Ringo please!" He cried. What else could he do? He couldn't move and try to catch him. It wouldn't work. He wouldn't work.
So George collapsed in on himself, lain on the bed, and cried himself to sleep.
___
Why the fuck would you want a child!?"
"Because it would make us happy! Look how happy John and Paul are!"
"Have you seen how tired they are?"
"So?! What would that make a difference?!"
"George, don't fucking start with me."
"ANSWER MY QUESTION!"
"IT WOULD MAKE ALL THE MOTHERFUCKING DIFFERENCE IN THE WORLD IF WE HAD A FUCKING CHILD. DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND HOW MESSED UP WE WOULD BE?!"
"Ring-Ringo, what-what are you-NO! STOP! OW!"
"YOU'RE A FUCKING SLUT, YOU KNOW THAT!"
"STOP HITTING ME! IT HURTS!"
"GOOD!"
"HELP M-AH!"
___
George shivers under the weight of the memory. His dreams are the same thing every night: the never-ending rape, the screaming. The fact that nobody called the cops afterwards.
_____
"Allison's asleep..." John's hand travels down Paul's back to his bum. Paul is not aware of the advance, to John's bewilderment.
"Very insightful, Lennon."
"Well I was thinking we could... Hm?" John's hand then swirls around to the frontline of Paul's little white , his fingers lingering in the waistband.
"John, I'm tired..."
"Then I'll fuck you while you sleep, simple as that."
"When did making love turn info mindless fucking?"
Paul is getting angry, and John can hear it plain in his tones.
"You know I didn't mean it like that..." John turns the younger man's head to press their lips together in a passionate kiss. Paul uncomfortabley shuffles until he is facing John with his arms around his neck.
"Bed-Bedroom..." Paul mumbles in between a kiss as fast as he can. John's hands are still at Paul's bum, and he picks him up, Paul's legs wrapped around his waist as they both (quietly as the can) stumble towards their bedroom.
The sheets are a silky red, seductive. The walls are a deep brown, warm. The floor and bedframe are made out of a red-tinted wood.
And John's mind is too blank to remind him of the two steps that lead into the sunken bedroom, almost resulting in a loss of Paul.
"Baby..." Paul giggled as John recollected himself and laid his lover on the bed.
John stared. That's all he could do right now. Paul, in all his perfectness, had his skin flushed a delicious pink. He had his index finger at his pouty lips. He was much skinnier than he was before. Or ever. And it showed, with him in a tight brown t-shirt, and tiny white ankle socks.
Paul began to squirm from becoming self-concious all of a sudden, to which John reassured him that he was only staring because he was so beauiful.
"I'm not, I don't know why you rest on that." Paul murmured with a gasp of pleasure as John's fingers trailed down the front of his underwear and over the bulge that just wouldn't go away until relieved.
_____
HA. ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER. >:D I just love torturing keeping you all so very angered happy with me•^_^•
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