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Into His Arms

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Agonizing was the writers room that evening. George was strumming away fiddling with his guitar for nearly an hour. The four Beatles were exhausted, Brian had arranged for them to make a film. Ringo had re-read the script nearly 3 times now, and the description of the it seems simple enough. He himself had a particularly interesting part, lots of screen time he supposed, but at this point Ringo was far too distracted to remember exactly what he was doing. Though George was bored out of his brains trying to find the chord on his guitar, Ringo was currently preoccupied with the view of his doe-eyed band mate currently leaning against a drawing table, -quite sexily - he might add.


Paul and John were endlessly knocking lyrics together ever since the director had informed them they had a week to write 12 songs for the movie’s album and production. Day one had proved productive. Paul appeared excited at first, Ringo knew his tell-tale signs, tapping his feet to really good rhymes that fit his lyrics, the flutter of his lashes when he scribbled down the next verse, how his teeth would peak through his lips when he smiled down at his writings. Ringo thought it was absolutely spectacular when Paul’s smile dimpled out his round rosy cheeks.


He’s happy. He enjoys this so much.


Once things got a bit more tiresome though, John was getting massively frustrated. The two had hit a stopping block, a bad one.


“Well, I’ll tell you what money can’t buy me- A DECENT FUCKING LYRIC.” John groaned (he mad :o ).


Paul scratched the back of his neck, he too was no longer quite feeling the creative flow they had started the evening with. Ringo frowned, poor Paul must be out of it, he hasn’t even eaten-


Wait!!! That’s it! Ringo shuffled around the drawing table quickly. He sifted for a pen from the desk drawer. Paul had his back turned, still rowing about that infernal lyric with John.


Ringo leaned onto the table, and caught onto Paul’s copy of the unnamed movie script. He hastily scrawled onto it. A small little message for his Paulie to see.


Ringo was nearly about to make his sneaky escape before turning round to a very familiar face.


“Hey there cutie, what have you got?” Paul winked, his face dangerously close to Ringo’s at the moment. Paul had a flirty way about him, especially with Ringo. They were dating after all, but- Paul made sure to kick his flirtations up to 100 when they were in public. He just loved to see Ringo melt with the slight bat of an eye. His Ringo.


“OH- hey Paulie… I’ve just got… um-” Ringo felt his cheeks redden. “ T-this…” Ringo felt his hand grip behind the table. “This- THIS PEN! I’ve got this pen.” Ringo whipped the pen from behind his back, thinking he had made the smoothest getaway. (George was in the background facepalming himself for how VeRy nOt smooth that was.)


Paul decided to take the bait despite knowing Ringo was lying. He was just too cute, and oh-so nervous.


“Well that's a very nice pen love! But- looks like we are calling it a night though. Do pardon my reach…” Paul lean ever so close allowing his breath to ghost over Ringo’s, then in so suave move, swiped his movie script from the table behind him, and quickly retreated from Ringo’s space leaving the lad blushing beet red.


Ah yes, the McCartney charm has struck again, with poor Ringo as a casualty (again).


As quick as Paul came he was already heading out the door with George and John ahead of him. It took a few seconds for Ringo to remember how legs worked, but once he did, he was stumbling after his boyfriend.


When he caught up to there cab out front, which would then take them back to their respective London apartments, he caught a glimpse of Paul reading his note, and the soft smile that it received. Paul pressed the pages against his chest, and looked breathlessly over to Ringo.


“I’d love to.”




“Hey go easy on the pizza!” Ringo chided as he watched Paul chow down on his fifth slice in 10 minutes. “Your going to give yourself a tummy ache.”


Paul and Ringo had snuggled up on the couch for the night. Pizza and a movie was their favorite past time after a busy day, the problem was they could never seem to find anything decent to watch, so they end up settling on ridiculous comedy shows.


To be fair, they didn’t end up paying much attention (as per usual) not when Paul would incessantly tickle Ringo’s side, or kiss his cheeks.


“Paul! I’m trying to watch!” Ringo sputtered as he wiggled about on the couch.


“Can’t I give you a thank you first?” Paul said, butting out his bottom lip, but clearly just wanting to get more of his adorable boyfriend’s attention.


“Rings, you gave me the sweetest little note today, let me give you some attention huh?”


Ringo smiled, and snuggled closer to Paul. Paul looked down to Ringo’s eyes, and his body just automatically relaxed.


“Your eyes Rings… you know I love those precious eyes.” Paul pressed his forehead to Ringo’s.


“Let me get lost them.”


This- was Ringo’s favorite thing. Paul loved his eyes, when they had budded feelings for eachother Paul made it clear he admired Ringo’s bright blue eyes, so big and beautiful. Sweet and soft. Just like you. Paul would say. When they pressed close like this, it was as if there was nothing else in the world that could-




Ringo quirked his brow.


“Yes? Pa-”


“No no no! That’s it! Money can’t buy me LOVE !”


Paul had suddenly stood up from the couch leaving Ringo completely wide eyed.

“Oh! The song, well, that's wonderful Paul, I suppose tomorrow you can-”


“I’ve got to go see John! Oh gosh! I can feel it now! If we get to writing, the rest of the song will be finished by tonight!”




“Oh! Love, the pizza was great! The perfect recharge I needed!” Paul leaned over the couch pressing a chaste kiss to Ringo’s lips and reaching for his coat. Not even hearing the protests in his voice.


“Thank you, you really know what I need. I’ll be back later, you can have the rest of my share of the pizza!” With that Paul was already out the door to John’s, and Ringo was nothing if not at least… a little disappointed.




Nearly halfway through the week John and Paul had cranked out over 7 songs. Working day and night, passing out surrounded my scraps of lyrics, strumming their fingers numb, and playing exuberant rhythms on the piano non-stop.


They still had 5 more to go, and Paul woke up early to play his next work-in progress on the studio piano, of course that meant not disturbing Ringo when he snuck away to get these lyrics tied to some chords. It had been like this for days, and Ringo almost felt guilty about feeling so put off. Paul had such a creative flow, and always needed to get it out as soon as he could, but this week. He could barely get anytime with just the two of them. Paul was restless. At night when Paul slept (if you call it sleeping) he tossed and turned, restlessly humming his latest concoction.


George and Ringo shared the cab drive to the studio, and he could feel George’s sense of woe in the air. He could see right through Ringo and see how underwhelmed he was. He almost wanted to ask the guitarist for advice, but decided against it. Ringo knew it wasn’t Paul’s fault. He had a deadline afterall, it just seemed he would have to power through for a few more days. That’s all. Right? He could handle it.


Upon arrival to the studio George quickly picked at his guitar. He was still fiddling away with that same bloody chord. (hmm…)


Ringo nearly settled by his kit when he saw Paul was standing about, sipping coffee in the lounge, a room over. Alone. Unoccupied.


This was it! Some time alone! Some time with his Paulie!


Ringo snuck over to Paul near the couch, and gently rested a hand to his shoulder, giving a gentle rub to it. Ringo felt Paul’s shoulders tense- then relax in realization. This was their “thing”, reassurance, they were kings at it. Ringo knew every once in while Paul need some gentle touch to loosen up. In fact- Ringo knew of many ways to loosen Paul up, one in particular that was most effective.


“Mmm hello there sleepy head, I didn't wake you up this morning did I?” Ringo softened and wrapped his arms round’ Paul’s waist.


“No… not once, love.”


Not even to say good morning, or kiss him goodbye.  


“Oh good! I’d hate to wake you. I just had to get this next song down perfectly, wanted to get it written before lunch.”


“Mmhmm course’.” Ringo said getting that put off feeling. He just- needed attention- lots of it.


“Paul sit with me please?”


Ringo let go of Paul’s waist and sat on the couch. Paul smiled and followed suit. “Sure love! Something on your mind?” 


Ringo got dry mouthed. He completely forgot where he was going with this (same).


He wasn’t even sure what was on his mind other than the fact that he was needy for some kind of OH-


Paul had leaned in, and was suddenly giving Ringo a rather strong kiss. Finally.


Paul was nearly all over Ringo. Hands both cupping his face with slowly pushing him father into the couch. Not to Ringo’s protest whatsoever.


This was very much attention that Ringo had wanted, although, Paul did love kissing, didn't matter where or when. As long as Ringo was near, typically Paul was doting on him with scattered kisses on his lips and cheeks.


Ringo desired something different, he wanted to be held . This was where the “loosening” came in. In the midst of Paul soft lips sliding with his own. Ringo reached a hand into the thin nape of Paul’s neck. He let his finger caress it slightly, testing to make sure he had the right spot. When Paul gave a relaxed gasp into his mouth he knew he hit the jackpot.


Ringo gave his neck another scratch and felt Paul start to melt over him. His limbs already going slack.


“Rings- loveeeeee you know how I get when you…” Ringo knew exactly how Paul got. Paul got sleepy. It was Paul’s “off switch”. Ringo discovered it ages ago, but all week never got any time alone to use it. Now Paul could get some rest and Ringo could get some cuddles. He already felt Paul let out some sleepy giggles as he wasn’t even trying to fight Ringo off. He had rested his head on Ringo chest in fact and was nearly in full cuddle mode-


“Well I see the love birds are already nestin’ right in the middle of the studio. Filthy animals you lot are.” John quipped as he himself passed in front of the two with an evil grin. John loved teasing the two of them, and though typically it was received in good spirits, Ringo was just- so close to his cuddles!!!!


He could feel Paul already pulling off Ringo’s chest. (Dammit John!)


“No more filthy than you alone ya git’.” Paul laughed sending back his own charming scorch.


“Got that next bit we need for George’s song yet?”


Ringo’s cuddles were long gone. All work and no play for ol’ Lennon-McCartney.


“Not quite, but I think I’ve got another song I want to run by you. As long as Ringo doesn't mind me cutting in.” John winked playfully to Ringo. His face already getting redder by the second.


“Oh piss off John and get to that piano! Don’t tease im’.” Paul planted a small kiss to Ringo’s temple before finally shoving John into the recording doors.


Once again- Ringo was alone. He needed to change his tactics if was going to get any of Paul’s attention.




George was inhaling a sandwich when Ringo decided to bring over his inquiries. Best timing. If George was eating, he was most likely happy. George was his happiest when he had something in his mouth.


Ringo must have smelled like fear at this point, because he didn't even say a word before George read him like a book.


“You need to be more straightforward with him.”


Ringo twisted his face. “What? How did you?”


“Your not subtle, at least- not for me. John and Paul are in they’re “zone”, they can’t see anything but music and each other right now. There's only one way to get past that, and that’s head first. Dive in.” 


George took another bite and watched the poor drummer try to let it all sink in. It wasn’t that Ringo didn't know John and Paul were close, but sometimes that “zone” seemed so impenetrable. Seeing them bond so closely sometimes made Ringo feel as though Paul deserved better. Paul knew Ringo had worries like that, and tried his very best to comfort Ringo, and shield him from those thoughts. Paul wanted him, and him alone.


Maybe George was right… he just needed to go in head first, or- maybe… feet first? Is it the head or feet? Oh- who cares! He was going to get held one way or another!




This was it. The last day, all 12 songs completed, and now Paul, George and John were setting up for some of these damn songs to get recorded. Paul was talking to George about the lead for “And I Love Her”. Ringo needed to make his move now. He couldn’t stand it anymore! He couldn't bear another second of it. Now or never-


“Perfect riff George! That fits just right.” Paul commended while George played an excellent intro riff to the fluid chord changes.


“Thanks Paul, but I wanted you to take a look at my 12 string. I’ve had the chord in mind, not sure where to add it’, but my tune may be off.” George picked off his Rickenbacker, and handed it off to Paul.


“Paulie! Catch me!”


It all happened so fast, the moment of truth! Ringo ran to Paul arms outstretched. All that love and affection in him coming to tide. Ringo leapt up into Paul’s arm. Supporting his arms around Paul’s neck. Ringo never felt Paul react faster, both bewildered, but flattered by the ordeal. Paul McCartney? FLATTERED. Currently giggling lovingly at  his Ringo whose legs were dangly over his forearm, making Paul look like a pretty prince holding his adorned.


“Ringo! What’s this all about?” Paul giggled pressing their foreheads together in embrace, staring into those big blue eyes.


“I-I’ve missed you Paulie…” Ringo spoke softly, which only set off Paul to give him the sweetest kiss on the cheek. Paul finally seemed to realize he had been so busy, he completely neglected his own precious Ringo. I mean, he literally had to jump right into his arms to see it, but hey- it sure did the trick.


“Well you don't have to miss me anymore, I’ve got ya-”


“NO- NO  no! This- I This is NOT what I meant when I said ‘diVe in’!” In the midst of the most glorious embrace to occur in the studio in the past century, it just so happens, it was also the place and time in which the most horrific display of instrumental abuse had occurred. Right. In. Front. Of. George’s. Eyes.


While the love birds were reconciling in a giggly bout of flirting, George was staring at his Rickenbacker currently adjacent on the floor. (Now with George on his knees mourning its existence.)


“Oop! Sorry bout’ that George maybe it will be in tune now! Just needed a bit of a kick is all.” 


“Yeah- or a fucking dr-”


“Oi! What’s all this?” John walked into the most bizarre display of his life. “What are you doing on the floor there Georgie?” John smirked, not really waiting for George to answer, and George not even intending to answer him.


“Paulie, bad news, we need one more song for the film. Director says movie needs a title song, a real biter.”


Ringo smiled. All this time, at least he got something from Paul. He was holding him real close in his arms, resting on Paul’s chest, even if it was brief, this is what he had wanted all along.  “Sup’ose you got another Hard Day’s Night then Paul?” Ringo lipped, giving Paul an approving look to show it didn't bother him anymore, he knew writing made Paul happy.


Paul blushed and shook his head. “Maybe tomorrow, tonight I think someone else deserves some attention for a change.”