(warning yu before u read this.. it’s just one of those days (limp bizkit reference??))

you and john stumbled into the shared hotel room you and the rest of the beatles’ had, his hands roaming all over your body and your hands roaming all over his as the two of you had a heated make out session. soon all the clothes you had just been wearing some how fell onto the floor, and you and john fell onto one of the beds, your lips never breaking contact.

all the while this was happening, george had been trying to leave without getting caught— he had stayed behind in the hotel room as he had forgot his jacket, but once the two of you burst in, he hid in the closet, and when he thought he had a chance to leave, john had slammed the door closed with his foot.

which meant george had to watch you and john begin to, well, do the deed, and he couldn’t help but stare. he couldn’t deny that he had always had a thing for you, ever since john introduced you to the band.

“what the fuck was that?” john asked gruffly, pulling away from your body on the bed for a second, so that he could look behind him. but nothing was there. what he didn’t know was that george was in the closet, and he had accidentally knocked over a hanger whilst trying to unzip his own trousers.