The light of an early crescent Moon shyly peeked from the density of a black night. The beach and the ocean were difficult to visualize apart. The view was gone forever from their sight, they were leaving before dawn that morning. The landscape had dissipated along with the days of frolicking in the sand, diving into the waves and making love freely amongst two men without the fear of prying eyes. Freedom to express such taboo affections, was the sunrise from the clear blue water with a kaleidoscope of pleasures shooting from it’s rays.
The two lovers stared from the door of their little private spot in the world. The one place where out from the shelter of four walls, they could display their love. Even if it was to a few random seagulls in the sky, it was as genuine as the particles of powder beneath them and as temporary as life itself.
The two men were nearly the exactly same height however their mass were of contrary volume. The slightly younger was quite thin, the barely older was in perfect shape but more filled in throughout the body. They stood in the frame of their only avenue, wearing just their swim bottoms. Complete nudity with an open door, even on a private beach was too much excitement for the Victorian discipline instilled in their very core. Yet Paul and George were holding one another while breathing fresh air. Oh how liberating!
“I’m going to miss this.” George said lost in the view of darkness and the soothing sound of the sea caressing the shore.
“What will you miss?” asked Paul drawing his lover nearer. “The water, the sand or my chest?” George giggled and blushed as he curled into that chest he so enjoyed.
“I can miss them all and more!” responded the younger smiling, while rubbing noses gently before the man he adored, then dispensing a light kiss on those soft full lips. “I’m going to miss the warm sun, the blue sky, your enchanting eyes, your pink nipples, your dick in my…”
“Stop.” Paul interjected with his fingers on the lead guitarist's lower lip. George’s smile grew to expose his white teeth, so handsome, yet a bit mischievous. It was reminding Paul of John.
“Why are you so scared? It’s just the two of us here.”
“It’s hard for me to hear.” Paul said turning away inside the room.
“You were certainly hard when I sucked your dick this afternoon.” Paul wouldn’t answer. He was slowly walking further in the room. George saw where his lover was heading. “Going back to the bathroom I see.” He said following McCartney, staring at his light pink back. George could see the scratches he gave the paler man nights ago in the heat of passion. Paul loved being scratched hard as he orgasms. George knew this about him, so did lots of birds he bedded and likely John.
“You killed the mood. Leave me alone.” Paul muttered glumly, choosing to sit at the foot of his bed just to prove his friend wrong.
“Paul, when I arrived here I was drowning in fear. I was too scared to be pleasured, even by myself.” Harrison sat besides his ailing friend. McCartney sheepishly kept his head down, letting his body contort into a sculpture of an odd shaped egg.
“I remember.” The soft meek voice recalled.
“You pulled me off the floor in the shower and helped me be pleasured by a man. You did it so I was the one in control of what I did and that was incredible!”
“I’m glad I could heal what John did to you.”
“Oh come off it!” George scolded. “Stop pretending you’ve just been nursing me back to health, as if you weren’t enjoying it!”
“Why does this need to be discussed at all?”
“Because it happened!” Taking Paul’s hand in his, the thinner man continued. “And it’s not a bad thing that it happened. It was beautiful.” He kissed the shy man’s cheek. “You’re beautiful. What we did was beautiful.” As harmonious as a well tuned guitar, the lips of the younger gently played it’s tune up the neck of the apprehensive lover. “Why can’t you appreciate that?”
“Why can’t I appreciate it in silence?” Paul argued rebelliously. “Why can’t this be just a fond memory and leave it at that?”
“Are you saying you no longer want to make love together?” George asked surprised and hurt.
“How can we without the others finding out?”
“Are you worried about John?”
“I don’t want anyone besides us to know.”
“You know I’m telling Brian. I have to! It’s part of my recovery.”
“I’d do anything to convince you not to tell him about me.” Paul meekly uttered in a desperate tone. “Couldn’t you tell them we hired you an escort who helped you work it out?”
“I’m not attracted to men I don’t know. Like with birds it can be deep, but it can just be a random shag. With men I have to love them as much as I love you mates to do anything like this.” Paul nodded.
“That seems to be the case with me too.”
“You seriously need to seek Brian’s counsel. You’re almost as bad as I was when we first arrived here.”
“You know I can’t.”
“Then I’m sorry love, I will tell him and you know he is going to want to talk to you about it. There is no getting around it.”
“I’ll quit the band before I do.” Harrison laughed at the sheer suggestion.
“You can’t be serious man and even that won’t stop Bri or any of us from making you have this talk. No matter what, we’re not going to let you keep suffering like this.”
Paul feared he might begin to cry, so he shot up from the bed. At first he was heading for the bathroom but remembered why he didn’t go there in the first place. Then he saw an excuse for his sudden pace in the open flap to their compartment that he could argue should be closed. Upon doing his chore he tried to look out the window, but the lack of illumination manipulated the glass from transparent to reflective. Another fucking mirror! He turned suddenly only to discover Harrison was barely a shoes length away from him.
“Which is harder Paulie?” George asked, closing the gap, restraining is captive with those brown eyes. “Facing me or yourself?”
“Neither scare me!” the lead man darted while quickly closing the shade over his own reflection. Refusing to acknowledge the irony, he maneuvered around the man with the sharp tongue and found he had no where else to go. “I just wish this was my choice!” he cried out suddenly. The younger man arrived to his side, but Paul was too enraged by the debacle he found himself in, he pushed his holiday lover away.
The older man was overwhelmed by what was to happen when he returned home. George would report the entirety of their activity to their manager. He would often imagine his lover going into the most graphic of details when explaining it to Brian. This was petrifying to even imagine. Paul knew inevitably Brian was going to call on him for that talk. The talk John should have given him. The talk Paul still wanted from his first male lover. Why was that too much to ask?
Tired, the darker haired man laid down on his bed. He rolled to his side to face away from his lover, then to his stomach, hiding himself in his pillow. He wasn’t crying; just angry, scared and wanting to cry without being able to.
Harrison was deeply torn inside. He felt terrible for Paul and he recalled being in his very position. It’s a terrifying spiral of despair and telling Brian of all people seems so scary when you’re in this mind set. George knew telling their manager might upset his fellow bandmate, but he also knew this was the best way to help him, even if it was hurting him now.
The lead guitarist laid beside the anguished lover and stroked his hair.
“I love you. George whispered.
“I love you too.” Paul whispered back..
“Listen, it’s all out of your hands now. It’s best to just accept that and not dwell on it. Especially if you really mean it’s our last night forever.”
“This is all John’s fault!”
“It doesn’t matter who’s fault it is.” George pried his arms around McCartney, drawing him close. “I hate seeing you suffer so.”
“Then promise me you won’t tell a soul about this “
“Paul, you cannot change my mind. I know it seems frightening, but you will find the talk is really nice. You feel so much better.” He leaned in over his lover, pushing his face by the bashful man. “All this pain you’re feeling now, Brian can help you over come.” George began to massage his companions back. He did it deep and hard until the defeated man was forced to moan.
“Okay! That does feel really good.” The soft spoken man uttered.
“Exactly, a back rub feels really good. It doesn't matter if it’s done by a bird or a bloke. It feels good and you should just enjoy it.” Paul rolled over to his back, facing his lover sternly.
“That’s not the same thing and you know it.”
“It's really all just a massage when you think about it.” George said smiling as he reached his hands down. “What’s different is what you massage…” He pulled down the tight swim bottoms of the darker haired man, who then aided in their removal. Paul’s erection was all ready before the skin was exposed to the air. Then George gave another devilish grin. “…and what you massage it with.” Before the words could register in the mind of the lead singer, Harrison had fully consumed Paul’s manhood in one stroke of his throat.
Paul shuttered as George took his time to work the rod in his mouth. The older man gave into the pleasure and relaxed himself for a moment. He let his body ease into the journey of pleasures, but feeling his peak near, he patted Harrison lightly on the head. Yet the youngest Beatle continued his sexual activity.
“George!” cried Paul. “I’m about to cum, quick stop.” Still the younger man continued, looking up at his partner, darting a smile from the corner of his mouth. Unable to contain himself, Paul emptied his load for the first time in George’s mouth, who instantly swallowed.
Paul was dumbfounded to what he had just witnessed. The younger man stood up and wiped his mouth with his hand. He crawled over Paul and penetrated the shocked lips with his tongue.
“I faced my fears!” Harrison told McCartney bravely.
“It’s your turn “ Paul said playfully rolling the brave man on his back.
“No.” The lighter haired man stated firmly, then sitting up. Paul couldn’t believe what he was hearing. George had never turned down one of his blowjob’s “It will be my turn after you talk to Brian.”
Then George quickly got up and for the first night since Paul first helped him cum in the shower, he slept in his own bed. Both stubbornly turn to face away from one another and both cried themselves to sleep.