Fifty Shades Of George | Starrison [❓]

t h r e e

What the actual fuck:

Dang you guys are excited af (though 10% of them are my replies lol)

I decided to update early bc why not

FIFTEEN comments !1!1!1! And I'll update on Friday again lol (or maybe even earlier !!!)

The following scene is kinda taken from Fifty Shades (oh god I have the pdf file,,,, kill me) so yeah :3

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Before Ringo got his whole "promotion" thing, he used to get a part-time job at Maxwell's. A typical, round-the-corner hardware shop. He decided to do one more shift then quit completely, the role of being a secretary ("of sorts", Ringo added mentally) already making him busy, and there was a huge stack of paperwork on his bedroom back at the flat.

The shop was currently besieged by do-it-yourselfers wanting to spruce up their homes (a/n actual line from 50 shades), and Ringo was currently sorting through the shipments- making sure if they matched with column A and column B. For some reason, he glanced up, finding himself locked in the dark gaze of George Harrison who's standing at the counter who was gazing at him intently.

"Ringo. What a pleasant surprise."

He looked so different, instead of his black, sleek suit he was wearing a knit sweater and denim jeans. Ringo realizes that he was staring (he couldn't be blamed, George looked more than attractive there and there) and immediately spoke up.

"M-Mr. Harrison," He managed to utter. "I, uh,"

"I was in the area," George says by way of explanation. "Jus' needed to stock up on some things." A ghost of a smile lit up his lips, like he knew something that Ringo didn't.

"What–" Ringo's voice sounded embarrasingly strained, like he just stubbed his toe behind the cashier. "What can I help you with, Mr. Harrison?" Stay calm, Ringo, he may be your boss but he's a customer– for now, that is.

"To start it off, I'll need some cable ties."

Cable ties?

"We have different lenghts, sir. It's with the electrical goods."

"Please." He says, gesturing with his long, calloused fingers. "Lead the way, doll."

His legs suddenly felt like jelly, and Ringo was trying not to trip over his own feet as they walked up the aisle. He glances up and down the selection, leaving Ringo to wonder what a CEO like him needed something as odd as cable ties.

"These'll do," He says with that mysterious smirk of a smile. Ringo bit his lip, looking up (damn their height difference).

"What else do you need?"

"I'd like some masking tape."

Masking tape?

"Are you redecorating?" Ringo blurted out.

"No," George smirks slightly, and he suddenly feels heat rise up his neck. "Not redecorating."

"This way," Ringo murmured, embarrassed. "Masking tape is in the decorating aisle."

"Have you worked here long?" His low voice and his accent makes Ringo's knees week.

"Two years, this was jus' my part time though." To distract himself, Ringo bents down and takes the standard roll of tape.

"I'll take that one," He points to the wider one. Ringo's left hand reaches out for it but George's hand beats him to it, making the pads of their fingers touch. Electricity sparks through his fingertips.

"Anything else?" He says, voice all low and breathy. George's eyes darken a bit.

"Some rope, I think."

The whole ordeal got Ringo all curious– what was he going to do with all those things? Sure maybe he wasn't redecorating. Someone as high and mighty as he is probably has another person to do it for him.

"Anything else you need?"

"I don't know. What else would you recommend?"

"For a do-it-yourselfer?" Ringo asks, tilting his head a bit as he looks up.

He nods, brown eyes alive with wicked humor.

Ringo flushes a bit, blue eyes going down to his boss' snug jeans.

"Coveralls," He replies. "You wouldn't want to ruin your clothing,"

"I could always take them off." George smirks, taking the shorter man completely off guard.

"I-I..." Ringo feels his cheeks heat up. He ducks his head, his mind conjuring up a rather indecent image of his boss without pants.

"Though I should. I wouldn't want to paint white all over my jeans."

Oh god, did he just— Was that—

"A-Are these all?" He manages to utter out. God, he felt like an awkward fourteen year old again.

"Say, doll, this week we're pretty much bombarded with international deals so..." Ringo's eyes were glued on George's luscious mouth, enchanted by the way they moved and, God, those fangs—

"Are you listening to me, Ringo?"

"I—" Heat flamed his cheeks. "O-Of course, sir.'

He licked his lips. "So you must understand why you're going to stay later than usual the next few weeks?"

Wait— what?

"Oh, um,"

"And I'd like to pack these up." George gestures to the miscellaneous junk in his hands. And for a second, Ringo swore he saw muscles under that seemingly innocent sweater of his.

Paul's gonna flip. "Alright, sir."

"Please," Fangs peek slightly from his lips. "Call me George whenever we're out of the office."

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SORRY IF ITS SO SHORT AH SCHOOLS CURRENTLY KICKING MY BUTT AND I DON'T HAVE TIME TO WRITE MUCH (why)

Hey,,,, maybe the next chapter's gonna be George's pov??? ;)))))

How's the new cover ????