Chapter Text
George explains the sounds and thought processes going on in his brain. Other people surround him in the control room; however, he keeps his eyes locked on Paul, who looms over him. Paul takes in the suggestions his mate feeds him. George moves his hands rhythmically as he hums a familiar piece, but Paul can't seem to notice what it is.
He couldn't seem to notice anything other than George.
He watches the ciggie jump up and down as it lays in between George's slender fingers. He averts his gaze to the floral boots his mate wears, and can't help but break out into a small smile. He remembers how the boots were once his; so whenever George wears them, it's like he carries a bit of Paul with him. Paul's eyes slowly move up George's legs, admiring the little jean patches that scatter his knees. His eyes travel up to his thighs now, wondering how someone so skinny could still have thicker thighs (probably excess muscle/fat from sitting down).
As his eyes move slightly upward to George's crotch, Paul begins to feel a weird tension building in his face, which causes his smile to fade. He looks around the control room at the people that surround him and places his hands on his hips. His eyes shoot back up to George's, and he must've looked very stern because the small smirk that George wore also faded.
"What d'ya think of that?"
Paul almost jumps from the loudness of George's tone. He tilts his head in a confused way. George sighs, bringing his ciggie to his lips and taking a puff - Paul watches his facial features as he does.
"The suggestions, Paul. That the sound at the beginning should be lowered and then built up."
George raises his eyebrows and starts to smile again, which brings Paul's smile back too.
"Yeah, I think it's..." Paul starts but notices George's lips start to purse together, waiting for his comment. "... a good idea." His bandmate shakes his head up in a confident way and turns to look at the others. "And?" He asks the rest of the group. They all erupt into a fit of agreeing murmurs. John starts making his suggestions, and Ringo bounces off of him. Paul looks around and yawns, extending his back as he stretches. George looks up at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. This time, he is the one admiring his mate's features. However, the only area he focuses on is Paul's lower abdomen and below - as it's at eye length with him. When Paul stops stretching and notices George still looking at him, he moves his left leg slightly to stand a little taller. George meets Paul's eyes again - a pink tint covering his face.
Everyone starts to leave the room a few minutes later for lunch, but Paul and George decide to stay. "I just wanted to talk to him about something," Paul says to the people in the control room. They all nod, not thinking anything of it.
When everyone left the control room, George put his hand behind his head. "So the roof, eh?" He asks, taking another puff of his cig. Paul watches his cheekbones suck in as the smoke fills his lungs. He nods. "Yeah, it's very nice up there, y'know?" George lifts his bottom lip and blows the smoke up to the ceiling. He puts the cig out in the ashtray on the console and scrunches his nose. "Don't ya think it'll be daft? The four of us up there?" Paul feels his eyebrows furrow at the assumption and crosses his arms against his chest. "...No. I think it's the best option we've got that is last minute." George mirrors his arms and looks up at Paul through his eyebrows. "I think the best option is to just forget about it, but I know that I can't have a say in these things," he snarks at his mate. Paul brings his index finger right up to George's face and keeps his right hand on his hips. "We can't just back away from this NOW, George! We have to do the roof."
George rolls his eyes and looks away from Paul. "No need to get so... assertive over it, all I'm askin' is..." He stops for a second, trying to think of how his next few words should come out. Paul still looms over him, and his left hand returns to his hip. George sees this in his peripheral vision and looks back at Paul. For some time, they share eye contact that fills the room with such palpable energy.
While they do this, George very quickly glances down at Paul's pursed lips, which Paul seems to realize. He inches his way closer to George, and if he wasn't towering over him before, he definitely is now. George, who finally found the right words to say, looks up at him and folds his arms. "Be.. mindful. Of other people's opinions, alright?" Paul's eyebrows raise for a second before he purses his lips even more. "Like you're so mindful," Paul snickers. "You can't even notice the whole world seems to be on board... 'cept for you, of course."
George recoils, eyebrows quickly furrowing in frustration. He sighs. "Let me be, we're on break! 'M not gonna just.. let you stand here and lecture me again," he says, shrugging towards Paul. His head rests on the wall behind him and his eyes fall shut. Paul smirks as he lets George's words echo in his mind and throughout his body.
His mind wanders to when George was making the song suggestions before and how he felt looking at him. He started looking again, only now he can do it without really getting caught.
God, how gorgeous he fucking looks. With his eyes shut and his head slightly raised up. His sharper features are more exposed; the jawline, the cheekbones, etc. George takes in a deep breath and as he does so, his chest expands and his neck changes also. Paul looks back and forth for this too. Once George is done breathing and his chest contracts, Paul starts making his way down to the area that left him all flustered a few minutes ago. Why does he buy such tight pants? He probably wants people to see it. God... Paul thinks.
The last bit of George's words suddenly echoes in Paul's mind. "...let you stand here.." He stands away from the wall he was leaning on and bites the nail of his thumb. "Y'know... if you're not gonna let me stand here, I might as well sit," he mumbled half-jokingly. While George never opened his eyes yet, he tilts his head. "Ha."
With that, Paul flings his left leg over George's legs and sits on his lap facing him.
George's eyes shoot open and his hands instinctively reach for Paul's waist but he brings them to his chest. "Are ya mad? Get off of me!" He can feel his face start to get warmer as Paul continues to make himself comfortable on his lap. He pushes George's hair out of his eyes. "Well, you said you wouldn't let me stand," he says, wrapping his hands around George's neck. "So I sat." George rolled his eyes and looked off to the side. Paul doesn't let him, though, because he pulls George's chin with his fingers so that he is facing him. "Right but, on me? Yer gonna crush me!" George jokes with a semi-straight face.
Paul gasps dramatically. "The nerve! The audacity!" He jokingly exclaims. He brings his thumb up and puts it under George's bottom lip, staring at both lips for a good amount of time. George rolls his eyes. "Yer lucky no one's here, ya asshole," George mutters quietly. Paul does a fake pouty face as he says poshly, "Oh, but I'd never, ever in a million years, embarrass Sir George.." He trails off because George finally lets his hands fall onto Paul's waist. "..Harrison." George nods and smiles, dragging his hands up and down Paul's sides. "Well, color me stoked."
Paul smiles with George, finally leaning in to kiss him. He moves his hand up along with his other hand to cup George's face. George keeps his hands on Paul's waist, only moving them down to his hips. It's only when George squeezes his behind that Paul lets out a low sigh. George also tries to sneak his tongue into Paul's mouth but it only makes Paul pull away. "Not.. not right now. One thing'll go to another and we won't have enough time for that," Paul whispers, pushing George's hair out of his eyes. George shakes his head and leans in again, making Paul pull away again. "I'm bein' serious! Anyone can look in here." George takes his hands off Paul and folds his arms, looking off to the side towards the door to the control room.
Without warning, he starts trying to stand up, pushing Paul off of him in the process. "Fuckin' tease you are, this was your idea, Paul." He rubs his face with both of his hands. Paul covers his lips with his fingertips. "George-" He goes over to Paul and puts a hand over his mouth. "Do me a favor and shut the fuck up for once? You can't just keep lettin' me on like this, gettin' me all worked up over nothing. It happened just the other day! And at Twickenham, don't think I forgot about it." He pauses, looking down for a second, and then back up at Paul. "Y'know, that shit may work on John, but yer daft if you think it'll work on me."
Paul's eyebrows furrow in anger and his eyes widen with surprise and fear. He tries to break away from George's grip and say something, but it only comes out as muffled talking. George rolls his eyes and releases Paul from his hand. "You.. you know about-" "You and John? Yes! God, Paulina, you've gotta be dense or something. Anyone can see it a mile away, you both singin' Two of Us to each other." Paul places his right hand on his hip and raises his left hand up to point at George. "You know that song is for Linda! And.. if me and John- if we used to have something it doesn't matter now. It's you I want! In this moment, George."
Paul reaches over to take George's hands and, surprisingly, George doesn't pull them away. Paul sings in a soft voice, "In spite of all that may be." George inhales at the throwback while looking down at their hands. He fidgets with his own fingers and Paul's. Paul tries to search his face for any expression at all. "Look, tell me what it is, whatever it is that will please you, I'll do it," Paul references, trying to mimic George's heavy Scouse accent. He gets a few chuckles out of George who finally looks up to meet Paul.
He takes his hands away from Paul and starts to straighten out Paul's clothes. Dusting him off even though there's nothing to be dusted. Paul looks down at him, at his expression that stays in that focused stern gaze. George glances up and meets Paul's eyes, sending Paul's heart fluttering.
"Esher. Tonight," George finally answers.
Paul didn't have to ask what he meant, but he still raised his eyebrows and felt his face flush. "But what about Pat-" "She's out of town, visiting family." George is done "dusting off" Paul and pulls him in for a kiss that only lasts a few seconds. He taps Paul's cheek lightly with his hand once before walking towards the door.
Without turning around, George says, "You're the death of me." Paul jokingly blows George a kiss that he knows he can't see and exclaims, "Love ya too, Georgie!"