Nineteen Sixty-Four // Starrison

Chapter 17

George broke his promise about having no feelings just a few days after.

The clearing was covered in a last pale light of the sunset, leaves bending under the weight of droplets from a small drizzle. Sky turned gray because of the omnipresent dark clouds, when two lovers met each other again. On this one, exact clearing, where every step brought back pleasant memories, where a forest became a place to run away from the real word to. They didn't plan it at all — tha fate did though.

In this moment Harrison's heart simply gave up. He couldn't stand fighting his own feelings, pushing Ringo away with all of his power, slowly dying inside. The pain was too much to bear.

So when the men shared glances, George knew. They both knew, the sky knew, the world knew. He couldn't deny it. So he jumped and ran to his lover, throwing himself in Richard's arms, his tender hug. As if they haven't seen each other in years. Well, they haven't — they played complete strangers after all.

There were kisses; just as they remembered. There were hugs. There were sweet words. There were a few tears, mixing with raindrops on their cheeks.

"Oh God, Ringo," the younger one broke their kiss for a moment, the kiss just as he remembered, "I love you so much."

Starkey cupped his cheeks, bringing his face closer. "Me too, Joj. Me too."

Everything was so simple. The wind was blowing, whispering something into the men's ears, swaying branches, green from fresh flowers' buds. The drizzle turned into some stronger rain, making their wet clothes cling into bodies and wet strands of hair fall uncontrollably on foreheads.

Rain, I don't mind. Shine, the weather's fine

* * *

Harrison smiled to himself, an honest, happy smile, he missed on his face so much. Tired muscles didn't let him get up, so he hugged Richard instead, bringing him closer. Only in this very moment George realized it stopped raining. The older one, kinda ironically, according to what they just did, looked very innocent. Slightly curled up, with eyes closed. His lover watched in with adoration, loving every inch of Starkey's body.

"Ritchie," he whispered. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

"Five more minutes," Richard groaned in a protest.

"Don't sleep, or Thought Police will take you," George chuckled and tapped his nose.

"I'll tell them five more minutes, too."

"I'm afraid that's not an option," Harrison laughed and went back to cuddling, kissing Starkey every now and then. Love. Finally, love.

His lover sighed. "Jesus, George. I get that we all don't eat much, but you have to really try." He run his fingers through Harrison's visible rib cage.

"Maybe I am skinny," the brown-eyed man grinned like a devil, "but you... are...ticklish!" After those words he jumped on his lover and started tickling him mercilessly. Ringo laughed, cried, begged him to stop. In vain.

"Joj, stop!"

"Never."

Their laughs filled the clearing's air. Two man laughed as if there was no darkness existing and chasing them, as if world wasn't a material woven of pain. They found a clearance in between dark clouds and clung to it desperately. Until George and Ringo were together, they didn't remember painfulness of lives. It simply didn't matter.

Finally, they stopped, putting their clothes on, still happy. The both man walked slowly their secret path, still holding hands.

"You still wear this," said George, pointing at one of Richard's rings. This one looked special.

Starkey looked at him. "I tried to sell it," he joked, "but nobody was willing to buy it. What a shame, what a shame!"

"You're just pathetic when it comes to a trade," Harrison murmured, grinning. Richard poked him.

They finally reached the crossroads, the point, when they had to stop holding hands. But the older one stopped for a moment, knowing it's risky, but really wanting to say it. George glimpsed a spark of uncertainty in his blue eyes. "Geo..."

"Yeah?"

"Does it... does it mean we're back together?"

"And what do you think?" The younger one leaned in, kissing his lover and letting him taste the truth — how much he loved him. The answer was on Harrison's lips and Starkey understood it.

"You know..." Ringo hugged George once again. "If you still fear, you don't need to be with me. By forcing it; y'know what I mean?"

The brown-eyed man laughed. "I can't. I just can't seem to resist you." Those words made Richard blush deeply; how could this man be older than him? There was still a sweet child lurking inside, seemed outside. "You're so cute," George murmured.

A blue galaxy with shining stars — Ringo's eyes. But soon he smiled, touching his lover's cheek. "Look at yourself, Harri."

"Me?"

"Yourself. At your deep, brown eyes. They're mysterious. Really, I never know what you're thinking about, when I look at them. Your soft hair. Beautiful face. You're amazing." Every mentioned part of body received a kiss from Starkey.

"That's a lil' bit too much," laughed George, but his heart melted. His lover's words touched him, touched his soul, hitting some deeply hidden string. Made him feel... truly loved. Desired. A feeling that wasn't meant to be born at all in this world. Too much love would kill them. The Outer Party's member never knew how to deal with feelings, he didn't have to... so now he felt a bit awkward. Ringo cared about him with such a passion... how did he even deserve it?

"Ritchie, I've been such an asshole to you... I don't deserve you At all. Damn." He bowed his head, feeling strong guilt.

"No, don't think like this," said Ringo firmly. "Each one of us makes mistakes. I understand you feel... I just couldn't seem to accept this."

"You're too kind," Harrison smiled wildly.

"Yeah, I love myself, too."

Cold wind blowed; they shivered.

"I wonder how John deals with Paul?" The older one laughed at this thought.

The brown-eyed man snorted. "Very good, I assume. Have you seen the way John was looking at him? What a queer."

"And who says it?"

"At least I don't pretend."

"But you have to admit... Paul is just like one of us. There's just... something about him. Something. In different world we could be friends."

"You only say it, because he plays the guitar," George joked.

Richard shrugged. "I don't know, really." Sun kept going down and down, until it was no longer visible, giving his way to the moon and stars. The night tempted them to stay here longer and forget about all the responsibilities, to riot. Riot. Riot. Riot.

"I wonder how, the hell, are we still alive," sighed Starkey.

"A matter of luck," said George, being a person with undaunted optimism.

//A/N: This story is slowly coming to its final twist, and... Well, how do you like it so far? Feedback, guys!//