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Paul jolted awake, his head searing with pain.
"Paul! You awake yet mate?" John screamed in his ear.

"For fuck's sake! I'm awake now, you don't have to scream!" Paul covered his face with a pillow.

"Well we have interviews at 2:00 and Eppy won't be too pleased if we miss another session because you didn't wake up."
John crossed his arms and pointed to a sleeping George.
"You gotta wake 'im up, 'cause I'm not gonna do it, you're lucky I had enough compassion in my body to bother and wake you up. Now wake the boy up."

John walked out to join Ringo at the breakfast table, leaving Paul alone in his bedroom with George. Paul looked over at the sleeping figure with longing. Why had he forgotten all those nights together back when nothing mattered but music, not hectic tour schedules or interview dates or crazy fans, just him and George?

It seemed so long ago, he doubted George remembered even half of what he did. They had vowed that they would be together forever, so what happened? Instead of kisses, they parted with handshakes, instead of hugs, the comforted each other with simple, meaningless words.

George was the one to break it off. Said it would get in the way of their new careers. Said the press would find out. Said there was no future for them. But Paul knew better. The way George's voice cracked, the way his hands shook, the way his eyes were empty and shined with unshed tears.

He knew they would always be in love. Whether they were cuddling under the stars and kissing, or crying over the other in separate rooms late at night. They would always be in love.
He got up and gently sat on George's bed. Paul ran his left hand through the soft hair that had grown longer since the last time he had done that. He shook George by the shoulder. "Wake up George, you gotta get up."
"Wha – who?"
George opened his eyes sleepily and looked at the dark figure waking him up. His heart skipped a beat when he realized it was Paul. His heart skipped another when he realized how close he was.
"P-Paul?"
Paul shuttered. He'd missed how George said his name. How it just rolled off his tongue, like he was meant to say it.
"Mm-mm?"
"What are you doing?"
Paul's hand was still tangled in his hair and their foreheads were pressed together, lips breaths apart. He realized their position and jumped back.
"Oh, I, uh, I'm sorry George, I don't know what happened."
"Uh, um, s'okay Paul."
"Oh, yeah, well you have to get up, or Eppy'll be pissed."
He rubbed the back of his head and turned towards the bathroom to take a shower.
Why was he acting this? It was only a dream! He shouldn't tear down that thick defensive wall he'd made after their split over a couple of memories.

After the shower he joined the others at the table. While John and Ringo carried on their conversation animatedly, George and Paul sat in an uncomfortable silence, both grateful when Mal pulled up with the car. Even the screaming girls were a suitable distraction from the tiny touches or brushes one wouldn't have normally noticed.

Walking through the elaborate tunnels, the glances multiplied and the touches tripled, every other look was a nervous peek. Paul licked his lips and walked ahead of George, afraid what would happen if they go to close.
"Eppy said it would be another fifteen minutes"
Ringo came in from the interviewing room that was still bustling with noise.
"All that rushing, now we have to wait? JESUS!!"
John yelled in frustration and pulled at his hair.
"Fuck Epstein! Fuck 'im!"

John started to walk out of the dark building but Ringo grabbed him by the arm.
"John…"
Ringo used the tone a mother uses when scolding a child, but John refused to look at the blue eyes, knowing they were his one weakness with the drummer.
"Okay Rings, but only 'cause you said so!"
And with that John had dragged Ringo into an empty bathroom without a word.

To say Paul envied them would be an understatement. They had everything in a relationship, and Paul wanted that. Why did George and him crumble when John and Ringo just couldn't get enough of each other?
Only an uncomfortable stillness was left after the other two had gone.

"So uh, yeah."
George rubbed his head and leaned against the stone wall.
"Hm?"
Paul leaned against the same wall and looked over at him.
"What was all that about?"
"What?"
"You know, this morning."
"Oh that. Uh, yeah."
"Well?"
"Oh, um, well I don't really know."
George raised an eyebrow.
"What's on your mind mate?"

Paul took a moment to respond and shook his head. He turned towards George and cupped his face for the thousandth time in his life and slowly closed the distance between their lips and their hearts.

"You."