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36 | Starrison aka the reason I go to hell ಥ⌣ಥ

Welcome, everybody!

(Happy late birthday, David Bowie, our Starman waiting in the sky! 💜 I had literally no time yesterday ugh
And happy birthday, Jimmy Page, god of the guitar! <3)

Okay, so...

I've commited the first smut writing in my life ʘ‿ʘ  And it's obviously Starrison, 'cause I'm a trash. Seriously, whatever I write, I make it automatically Starrison. Help.

It's probably awkward af, because I've written it at night just to pass the time somehow and welp... that's it. 

Writing smut is actually calming...

But anyway, enjoy!

--

Every single night George had those nightmares. Every single time he was waking up screaming. The darkness, lurking in his mind, waited patiently for him to close his eyes and let himself slip into the Morpheus' embrace, where he wasn't safe at all. Did he really deserve it? Or was it a cruel laugh of a destroyed mind?

But this one night was different.

Scream.

"George!" He woke up to a hand shaking him brutally, but mercifully letting out from the land of nightmares. "George, wake up."

It was Ringo. Harrison sighed, trying to calm down and get back to the real life — where he wasn't safe at all. But Richard was besides him, Richard, will you protect me? George hugged him tightly, murmuring something.

"What did you dream about?" asked the drummer politely, but the guitarist wasn't willing to reply this question, and just let the silence fall down them and consume his question. So they were just sitting together, two men hugging each other, one of them having some feelings forbidden either by law and church for the second one.

"Ritchie..." George hid his head in Starkey's collarbone, making the older one smile. Nightmares went away, they couldn't reach him now.

"I'm here for you if you need me, Geo. Remember that." Oh, his big blue eyes... So honest and polite. And beautiful.

Harrison's stare in those very eyes was certainly too long, but he couldn't stop himself now. He thought about two oceans, that two big ships called pupils sail through. It's definitely not your time, Geo. Stop being fucking poet late at night.

Then... It just simply happened. Making George's pain, hidden deeply, but still existing... just fade away.

Richard brought their lips together in one, heated kiss, which lasted for a moment, but for them — it was an eternity, filled with lust. The guitarist felt like his mind was a Supernova that just exploded.

Ringo moaned quietly and broke the kiss, leaving only a small trail of saliva connecting their lips. His mouth was half-opened, making him look cute and hot at the same time, nearly driving George insane. He touched the drummer's face.

Their second kiss was more aggressive, with their teeth smashing and tongues meeting, and definitely more moans filling the air. With every second passing they wanted each other more and more, so their hands traveled carefully under each others' shirts, touching every part of heated body. Harrison sucked on Starkey's lower lip, making the drummer shake and moan louder.

They weren't sitting anymore — Ringo lied on George, now covering every inch of the brown-eyed man's face in kisses. Harrison threw his head back in a pleasure, when Starkey kissed his neck hungrily, biting it slightly.

"Don't," he said quietly. "No love bites. Eppy will kill us."

"You'll wear a turtleneck tomorrow," Richard murmured with voice dark with lust, so different from his typical happy tone, which definitely drove George nuts. He felt his erection growing painfully and shuddered, never ever feeling such a passion before; he reached for Ringo's mouth, slipping his tongue inside and licking every inch of it. The drummer didn't want to stay behind and pushed his own tongue into George's mouth.