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Hotel Shampoo

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“I didn’t- I didn’t see it, but I heard it, I heard all of it,” John smiled to himself widely, “God, it was fucking hot.” He watched Ringo and George’s reactions, both of their faces twisting with different emotions. George looked like he didn’t care for a second before that turned into realisation, and then he looked over at Paul, who was lost in his writing (song lyrics, they assumed from the flow of his words and structure he wrote them down in), smiling softly. John had no idea what that meant, but he was sure that it was some queer shit. Well, they were all queer, really.


When he looked at Ringo he saw something entirely different. He looked determined yet secretive, an odd mix of emotion, John noted - he also looked at Paul but didn't smile. He smirked instead, probably imagining it.


John cleared his throat, "You were loud last night, huh?" He said, breaking the silence. Ringo's face burned with embarrassment as he looked at the younger, scolding him silently.


Luck was not on his side, though, because George joined in the conversation with eagerness, "Richie is a delight to be inside of," He smirked and looked straight at the older. Ringo's face burned even more (if that was even possible) and looked away with an angry look (he tried to look angry, but it didn't work, he looked like he was merely pouting).


John's laugh filled the room, making Paul look over to the other three. He sat with his mouth open for a minute, before he decided to stand up eventually, making his way over to them


“Shut up,” He said eventually, turning away from them.


John laughed, “Paul?” He yelled over at said man, who looked up at him with a smile.


“Yes?” He replied, confused on what they needed him for, they had been talking without him for a while and he had no idea what the fuck it was about. John replied with a hand gesture that barely meant anything, yet Paul could tell what he meant (kind of, the hand gesture was John merely waving his hand between the two, not really a ‘come here’, more like a ‘c’mere’, if that makes sense) and stood up, walking cautiously towards them. His raised eyebrows showed that he had no idea what was about to happen, making John laugh inwardly and feel like an- like an evil supervillain. Well, not quite, but he could dream.


John smiled sweetly (sickeningly sweetly sounds like a better phrase to use), “So, how was Brian last night?”


“Nope, nope, nope, bye,” Paul rushed out of the room with a red face, causing the others to chuckle and try and call him back in, but he refused quietly, muttering curse words under his breath. “Wait,” He said, stepping back into the room, “Did you hear everything?”


“Yes,” Came John’s reply, “You’re quite loud, but so is Brian,” He thought for a second, “And now that I think about it… so is George…”


“And you,” Ringo cut in, watching as John’s face heated up (payback!) and smirking, “We’re all loud, it’s just a… thing.”


“Yeah, a thing,” Paul agreed, finally walking back to the others and sitting down, “Want to hear some new lyrics I just wrote?”


“Sure,” John smiled warmly.


“Brian?” Ringo knocked on Brian’s door wearily, trying not to seem too suspicious or obvious to the others who were probably sleeping peacefully in their beds (probably being the key word, he didn’t want to risk what happened to Paul happening to him) - he waited a minute for he knocked again as Brian hadn’t answered the first time around.


He put his ear to the door and heard nothing but water… he assumed from that that Brian was in the shower. Well, it made sense - he hadn’t answered the door and well, the sound of water. He also assumed from that that the door was locked, though he hadn’t attempted to open it (he had considered it but realised that he’d be invading his privacy) - maybe he should.


If he did, would Brian be mad at him?


If he didn’t, he’d never get a chance with Brian...


He pulled down the handle and opened the door slowly, trying to stop the creaking it was bound to make, or minimise it. Surprisingly, it worked, and the door noiselessly opened and closed behind him. Ringo was shocked to see that there were clothes everywhere, some folded, some crumpled and some balled up - what was going on with Brian? He was never this messy, never messy at all, especially with clothes. His clothes were always folded and put into specific piles or specific draws - never this, though.


He didn’t process the sound of the shower turning off until the bathroom door opened and Brian stepped out, wearing only a towel around his waist. His hair was sticking up in places and flat in others, body still dripping with the shower water, making his skin practically glisten in the small amount of light that filtered into the room. They had always hated how bright it was so late in the summer.


“Richard?” Brian asked, staring at him with shock, “What are you doing in here?”


“I- uh-” Ringo blushed a deep scarlet, “I came in here to talk to you and I didn’t- I didn’t know you were in the shower?” He offered, eyes wandering down the older’s still dripping body, trying to be discreet (he had no idea how well it was working, though, as Brian didn’t react) - there was a lot of room for his imagination.


“Well, what did you want to talk about? I need to get dressed-” Brian started, smiling softly at the start of his sentence.


“No!” Ringo cut in, not wanting Brian to get dressed, as he was fine without them pesky clothes on. Brian looked at him confused for a second before Ringo had realised that he had almost yelled, his voice bordering on trembling with nervousness. “I mean- I- John told us.”


“Told you what?”

“That you fucked Paul, and I-”


“You came in here because you want me to fuck you too?” Brian figured out, smirking inwardly as Ringo sputtered and tried to either confirm or deny it, he couldn’t find out which, though. The younger blushed again, shocked that Brian figured it out so fucking quickly, he couldn’t exactly deny it or leave, could he? No, and so he thought that he might as well go for it.


“Yes. I- uh-” Ringo was still at a loss for words, staring at the older (still naked!) with wide eyes, “If that’s okay, uh,” He cursed under his breath at his not being able to speak properly.

“Okay,” Brian nodded, “Get undressed then.”


“Really? I mean- I thought you’d be, like, tired or something,” He breathed out slowly, “Yeah, okay, sorry.”


The older offered him a kind smile, nodding in understanding before that smile turned into a smirk.


Ringo got undressed fairly quickly, anticipation invading his every thought and clouding his vision slightly - seriously, he was so fucking turned on that all he could focus on was Brian and Brian alone, because fuck, the older had just dropped his towel and was staring at him, waiting for him to undress already. He was finally naked and had put his clothes into a little pile by the door (easy to get to when he needed to), waiting to hear what to do next.


“Come here,” Brian said, motioning with his finger for Ringo to walk towards him. The younger did, leaning up to kiss Brian once he was close enough to do so. Ringo moaned against Brian’s lips as the older’s tongue slipped inside of his mouth, not even trying to fight for dominance - they both knew that Ringo was the bottom, and nothing would change that. Brian laughed to himself at the thought.


“On the bed,” Brian said softly, “Or against the wall?” He asked, kissing Ringo deeply once more, his arms wrapping around the other’s waist possessively, pulling him closer. He breathed in the scent of the younger - cheap hotel shampoo and a mix of bath soaps that he'd probably snatched from the amount of hotels they had stayed at previously. Ringo never really liked the expensive hotels (though they were nice) for some reason.


"Where did you fuck Paul?" Ringo asked, sighing as Brian kissed his neck softly.


"The bed," Brian replied nonchalantly, looking at Ringo with quizzical eyes - the younger seemed to be weighing out the options. He could be fucked exactly where Paul was fucked, or somewhere different, somewhere that wasn't Paul and Brian , somewhere else.


"Wall, then."


Brian smirked and left Ringo for a short minute to retrieve the lube from the bedside draw, the same one he had used on Paul - this was practically surreal. They'd never paid any attention to him in this way, and suddenly, they were. Who was next? John? George? He'd had his way with John before, though never the other three. Well, up until yesterday. He'd heard them fucking before, all of them, it was random couples, sometimes John and Paul, sometimes Ringo and Paul, sometimes George and John - it was always random. Why him, suddenly? He tried not to dwell on it anymore, Richard was waiting.


"You're sure?" Brian asked, flattening down his damp hair with his free hand. Ringo nodded and leaned in to kiss the older, hands finding their way into his hair, though he'd just flattened it (Brian didn't really care; Richard was his main focus then) - slowly, Brian pushed Ringo up against the wall. They didn't stop kissing, even as Brian lifted Ringo up to wrap his legs around his waist, holding him up securely against the wall. They pulled apart eventually when Brian poured lube onto his fingers, before placing the bottle on the closest surface (which happened to be a weird desk in an inconvenient, well, convenient now, place).


"Please," Ringo leaned his head against the wall, "Please…" He repeated, softly. He wanted to cry when Brian’s finger circled his entrance teasingly, not pushing in just yet - he felt so desperate… fuck.


“Oh, God,” He whispered when the finger finally pushed inside him, he instantly pushed down against it, wiggling his hips as much as he could (though he didn’t have much space). Very soon, two more fingers were added to one, stretching him out more until he was sure he was ready for something bigger, Brian’s dick (obviously), and he needed it so bad , he could start sobbing then and there. Apparently, he cried during sex because it ‘felt so good’, something he had no recollection of saying, ever, but George had insisted that he had. But he really was about to cry because Brian was taking so fucking long , almost as if he wanted him to suffer.


“I’m ready, I’m stretched out enough, Brian, please,” Ringo moaned, tightening his muscles around Brian’s fingers for emphasis, though he was sure the older already knew what he wanted, already knew how fucking desperate he was, and was ignoring it. Maybe he got off on torture - okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch, but seriously, fucking hell, he needed to get on with it already and fuck him.


Brian’s fingers pulled out slowly, only to be replaced by his cock, which he pushed in very slowly to not hurt the younger. “Fuck,” Ringo whimpered as he pushed in fully, feeling so completely full, delightfully full. “Move.”


Brian did, practically rolling his hips up into Ringo, chasing pleasure with all he had. The younger was so deliciously tight - something that he always fucking loved, being inside someone who was so tight, he could probably come just from that feeling.


The younger had his head resting against the wall, neck on full display, already covered in light, not very noticeable hickeys - he looked so beautiful.


Brian sucked on Ringo's neck as he bucked his hips up into him, making him jolt against the wall each time he did so, moaning deeply - it was all he ever imagined.


Brian remembered every single time he could hear Ringo moaning (from all the other's rooms and all the other's hotel rooms over the course of their career together) and almost laughed out loud because, well, this was really happening and he wished for nothing more. Nothing more.


"I'm- I'm close," He heard the younger whimper and felt him trying his hardest to get Brian deeper inside him, to get more pleasure, to get to his climax because he was so close and he needed it .


With one final thrust, the younger was coming between them, letting out a string of curse words and broken moans, face contorted with pleasure. "Fuck," He whined, realising that Brian was still yet to come, as he hadn't already.


Brian fucked him through his orgasm, still fucking him though he knew he'd be sensitive - he felt Ringo's muscles clench around him and then fucking finally he was coming and God, he really needed it. Their foreheads rested together in exhaustion as they stated at eachother, both having just come and both tired out from, well, the fucking.


And then they were laughing, almost shaking, as Brian let Ringo down from up against the wall. "Should we clean up?" The younger asked between giggles, "I need a shower." He noted, feeling Brian's come dripping down his thighs and drying there - he still giggled through the prospect.


Brian, also laughing, nodded gently before grabbing a towel. He cleaned himself down and then Ringo, letting the other use his shower.


It would be weird if one of the others caught Ringo walking through the halls to his own room with come drying between his legs, they'd never leave him alone about it, even though they'd all done this to him before.


Once Ringo was finished in the shower, he got re-dressed and went back to his bedroom, but not before giving Brian one last kiss.


Ringo walked back to his bedroom, where George was waiting for him, "Guess what?"