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14 February 2006 @ 09:48 pm
Whoa. New fic, new pairing. (pour moi)  
Ahoy mateys!
This is a totally & completely new thing. It's the longest thing I've ever written at once & it's a totally new pairing.
Whoa. Pressure.
title: All I Really Want
pairing: P/G with little pinches of J/P
length: 1,888 palabras
notes: First non-JP fic. Ever. Be nice. Or don't. Whatever.

George looked across the room, his eyes finally lighting on Paul. He was surrounded by people, probably his admirers, telling a story very enthusiastically. Parties agreed with Paul. Paul was social. Paul had fun.

But parties weren’t so kind to George. Usually he counted on John to introduce him to people, telling him what to say and making sure he was more or less comfortable.

But John wasn’t here. It was just Paul.

Just Paul.

That was awkward. George never knew what to say. He’d always had John as support. John was his crutch. Something to lean on. Paul was not. No matter what the press fantasized about, Paul wasn’t some big softie. He was apart from the others. Around Paul, George bit his tongue. He was afraid of saying anything that could be taken the wrong way. Everything everyone else saw was a shield. But when George was alone with Paul, that all came down. He was a pansy, apparently. He never stood up to him, unless it was something important. It made George sick, all this bowing down. It just made Paul’s ego already inflated ego bigger.

But the eerie thing was, no matter how hard he tried, he would never do anything to even vaguely hurt Paul. No sarcasm, no retorts. He just couldn’t. How long had he known Paul? Felt like forever, didn’t it?

He wouldn’t call it fear, really. More like…admiration. Much as he hated to admit it, Paul was the best musician in the band. Sure, John was brilliant. But Paul could write. His melodies would make anyone swoon. Sure as hell worked for George.

George cut across the room, joining Paul’s circle. The bassist noticed his arrival, smiling and nodding.

“Hey! Folks! Here’s that bloody guitarist you’ve all heard so much about!”


Reddening, George nodded politely. “Hello, all. Lovely evening, yeah?”

More laughter.

George threw a confused look at Paul.

“Mate, it’s snowing!” Chuckling, Paul ruffled his hair.

George ducked away in annoyance. He grinned weakly and looked at his feet.

Softly, Paul muttered, “You okay, Georgie?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. Just a little tired. Tell me when you’re off, yeah?”

Paul nodded, and turned back to the conversation, which had traveled to women’s underwear, a topic Paul was very familiar with. He obviously had a lot to contribute.

George discreetly stepped away. He telepathically urged Paul to leave.

C’monc’monc’mon….I’ll be your bestest maaaaaate….


Two hours later, George was sitting on a black couch. The blackness of it was not hiding all the alcohol that had been spilled, nor the mysterious stains that blotted it. But it he was too tired to care.

Just as he was wishing he wasn’t relying on Paul for a ride, Paul waltzed over.

“You still awake, mate?” Grinning cheekily, Paul prodded him in the chest.

“Aye, now let’s get the hell out of here before all the shit on this sofa infects me.” Please, Paul. Please let’s leave.

Paul nodded in assent. “Fine. Let me go be polite, though. Hold on.”

George heaved himself off the couch, searching his pockets for a fag. Upon discovering one, he began to meander to the exit, scanning the turnout for his companion.

“Right here, mate.”

George whipped around, startled. Seeing Paul, his features softened.

“Right-o. Let’s go.”


George wouldn’t call the car ride uncomfortable, per se, but it wasn’t a picnic. Paul was humming a gentle tune, George had no idea what it was. The two rode in silence until five minutes from George’s house.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

No. “Yeah, it was a great party. Thanks for the invite, mate.”

“Not at all. Was a bit different without John, eh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“’Course, everything’s different without John. That boy’s got fucking charisma.” Paul laughed slightly.

Forcing a grin, George responded, “Yeah, s’pose he does.”

“Obviously, or we wouldn’t have sold so much, yeah?” Paul continued on, oblivious to George’s discomfort.

The guitarist grunted.

“Totally impossible to write with, though. Ha, he never focuses. Always, ‘oh look! A shiny thing!’ You know?” Paul was laughing now.

George gripped the door handle. “Yes, I can imagine. Thanks for the ride, Paul. See you tomorrow.”

Paul grinned and nodded. “Tomorrow. Get ready to rock!”


The studio had a gentle feeling as George walked in. Paul was plunking away at the piano and John was lightly singing along. Ringo apparently hadn’t arrived yet.

“Ahoy, mate! Heard you and Paulie spent the night making merry! Where was my invitation, eh?”

“Sorry, luv, Paul chose me. I guess he just loves me more.” George grinned at John, who turned to Paul in mock horror.

“Loves you more! Say it isn’t so, Paul! My frail little heart couldn’t take it!” John clutched at his chest and staggered back.

Paul leapt up from the piano bench. “Never, Johnny, love, never. How could you even assume such a thing? My heart is, and forever will be, yours.” He enveloped John in a bear hug, trapping his arms to his sides.

George’s heart skipped a few beats. Sure, he knew that they were kidding, but Jesus Christ.

John stood still. “I don’t know, Paul. George would have to be pretty bloody sure of that to say it…”

Paul cried, “No, no! I swear I don’t know where it came from!” He raised his face to John’s, nose to nose, lip to lip.

George held his breath.

John visibly softened, staring at Paul’s lips. “Oh, alright, luv. Just this once, I’ll let it go. But if I hear tell of this again…” He ducked forward and planted a small kiss on Paul’s lips, taking some sting off the ‘threat’.

Both men collapsed in giggles, Paul almost fell on the floor in hysterics.

After a few tense seconds on George’s part, he cleared his throat.

“Should I leave you to it, or….” He trailed off, part of him kidding, another part not.

“Nah, luv, why don’t you join in?” Paul batted his eyelashes at the guitarist, causing him to blush involuntarily.

“Thanks for the offer, but…I don’t know how much Patti would like that,” he answered weakly.

“Indeed. On that note, let us proceed making electronic noise, yeah?”

John chuckled, George grunted.

“Where’s Ringo?” Apparently it wasn’t just John missing that made him feel awkward. God damn. Maybe they were a perfect band.

“Away with Mo, the bastard. We have to get along all on our lonesome. Can we handle it?” John winked at Paul.

George ground his teeth.

John was eyeing the guitarist warily. “You okay, mate? Looking a bit peaky.”

“Uh. Fine, yeah. Big night last night. Sitting around on a shit-covered sofa all night takes a lot out of me.” George couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Paul turned to him, eyebrows raised. “The word is mingle, George. You have to mingle.”


After turning down invitations for lunch, George headed off for home. Upon arriving, he was somewhat relieved to find that Patti wasn’t home from work yet. He needed to be alone.

Shortly after he had put on a soothing record and prepared to settle down, the telephone rang. It was probably Patti, telling him she’d be home soon.

“Damn,” he muttered, as he scanned the room for the device.

Finding it and grabbing it, he choked out, “Hullo?”

“George.” The other voice was warm and decidedly masculine.

George sighed. “Hello, Paul. How are you?”

“Fine, luv, just fine. You wanna grab some dinner with me? I promise you won’t have to sit on a shit-covered couch.” The smile in Paul’s voice was evident, making George smile wanly.

“Uhhh, John too?” He tried to keep the hopeful note out of his voice.

“Nah, he’s got plans. Just you and me. You up for it?”

“Alright. Uh. What time?”

“I’ll pop by in a few. Yes, Georgie boy, I’m takin’ you out on a date!”

George laughed weakly, mostly just for Paul’s sake. “Okay, see you in a tick.”


“Glad you took me up on this, mate. We’ve not seen each other for awhile!”

Giving Paul an odd look, George said, “Paul, we saw each other this morning.”

“Aye. Six hours ago. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

That struck too close to home, which prompted another weak chuckle.

Paul looked at him carefully. “You sure you’re okay? You’ve seemed a little…I dunno, off…lately.”

George looked back at him, trying to convey a thousand emotions without betraying himself. Sighing almost inaudibly, he turned to look out the window while responding, “Yuh, just a bit confused at the moment. Probably because it’s leap year, or something.”

“It’s not leap year.”

George just rolled his eyes. “Well, what do you want me to say? Obviously if I felt it was something I could or would share with you, I would have done so. So don’t fucking pressure me, yeah?”

Paul resumed driving, with a bewildered expression etched in his features.

After several minutes, George sighed. “Sorry. Overreaction, yeah. But…maybe it involves you.” Stopping, he tried desperately to recover himself. “I mean, like, the whole band, you know.”

Paul nodded, still not looking at him.

“Are you sure?” It looked as though Paul was asking the steering wheel.

“Sure about what?”

“John thinks you’re ‘infatuated’ with me. His words, not mine.”

“I hope you don’t think that. That’s a bloody conceited thing to assume.”

“…are you?”

“What do you think?” He didn’t say it as though Paul should presume yes or no. He said it as a genuine question.

“I honestly don’t know. It feels as though you treat me different than Ritchie or John.”

“Well, you’re King McCartney, aren’t you?” Trying to lighten the mood with a joke did not have the best effect.

“I don’t think I’m the leader, George.”

“I-that’s not what I meant.”

“Why don’t you trust me enough to tell what all this is about?” Paul honestly wanted an answer. This flabbergasted George. Paul was always flippant, not caring.

“You really care, don’t you?”

Paul looked confused. “If you mean, do I care about you? Then yes, I do.”

Sighing, Paul continued, “If you are ‘infatuated’-- I fucking hate that word, okay?-- with me, then hell yes I want to know about it.”

Looking over at George’s tense expression, he barreled on, “I mean, sure, fans may say that, but you’re different, Georgie. I promise.”

“What exactly are you saying?” Without stopping for Paul’s answer, he kept talking. “I mean, are you saying that if I do say that I love you, or whatever you’ve been implying, that you’re prepared to say it right back? Or are you saying that you just won’t be a fucking prick about it?”

Paul appeared to think about it. “Both, maybe.”


“Well, hell, George! Kind of a fucking difficult position you’re putting me in!”

“Jesus. What do you think you’re doing to ME?”


“By making me say that I’m in love with you?!”

“Fuck! By making you tell me what is the matter with you recently!”

“FINE! I fucking love you! Are you happy now?!”

Paul swerved, finally stomping on the brakes. Staring straight ahead, he asked in a voice totally devoid of emotion, “Are you shitting me?”

Slightly breathlessly, George replied, “No.”

“Well, then, I love you too, you bastard.”

the_scouserthe_scouser on February 15th, 2006 07:09 pm (UTC)
*and then sex in a car*

Naughty, naughty me.

Anyways I abso-love this! My poor awkward Georgie. I think (despite my rabid love for Gingo) that Paul and George are my favorite. There's just such a push/pull with these two. They either seem like the best of friends speaking their own language, or they seem like they can't stand eachother.

I loved the story. Loved it, loved it, loved it.
You should definenetly write more P/G!
nine-oh-five: american pride? naw.alternativwaves on February 15th, 2006 11:42 pm (UTC)
Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Oh this is making me warm & fuzzy inside.
A joke tired of laughing: George/john peacelulahbelle on February 15th, 2006 07:13 pm (UTC)
wow that was superb....words fail me with how cool that was it was all so naturalistic and real and just superb....
nine-oh-five: yes I'm lonely....alternativwaves on February 15th, 2006 11:42 pm (UTC)
Thanks! =)
That One Girl.: STFU.torturedwriter7 on February 15th, 2006 07:46 pm (UTC)
I haven't read many stories that aren't J/P, but this was wonderful! I love how it was so dialogue-centered. You captured their voices wonderfully.

*Small squee*
nine-oh-five: emo paulalternativwaves on February 15th, 2006 11:43 pm (UTC)
mrsfjl66mrsfjl66 on February 15th, 2006 10:29 pm (UTC)
gotta love g/p! well done!
nine-oh-fivealternativwaves on February 15th, 2006 11:43 pm (UTC)
Hehe, thanks.
0nesweetdream on February 15th, 2006 11:06 pm (UTC)
Oooh, very well-written, I luuurved this. XD
nine-oh-fivealternativwaves on February 15th, 2006 11:43 pm (UTC)
Fanks =)
adria_harrison: george/pauladria_harrison on February 16th, 2006 12:23 am (UTC)
"C’monc’monc’mon….I’ll be your bestest maaaaaate…."

That was cute. They're definitely my fav slash couple, but I haven't read many that don't involve tons of angst (though I do like the angst, don't get me wrong). This was so nice and fluffy. Thanks.
nine-oh-five: american pride? naw.alternativwaves on February 16th, 2006 12:50 am (UTC)
Yay for fluff! Thankkk you.
Merrymerryb87 on February 16th, 2006 03:24 am (UTC)
That was my first time with P/G and I must say I loved it wonderful job, I chould just see the expressions and hear them yelling at eachother in the car

my favorite part was when Paul was telling George how distract-OH SHINY THING!

*skips off*
nine-oh-five: LETTT IT BEEEEalternativwaves on February 16th, 2006 03:34 am (UTC)
I tend to do that a lot, too.
Verrry glad you liked it!
day_tripper87 on February 17th, 2006 03:34 am (UTC)
Usually I don't like Paul/George, but this one was just stellar!
nine-oh-five: american pride? naw.alternativwaves on February 17th, 2006 04:34 am (UTC)
ah! Me neither.
And thankyouthankyouthankyou!
the heart collector: Nick's drawing - minneesummersiren on February 19th, 2006 11:23 am (UTC)
Ohhh! That was brilliant! I love G/P fics. XD
I wonder what happens after Paul told him back.
nine-oh-five: let it bealternativwaves on February 28th, 2006 05:58 am (UTC)
I wonder too.........
It would have naturally ended in sex, and I can't write sex for shit.