1962

That idiot doesn't know what he does to me, George thought, watching him comb his hair. He did like his mate more than a friend, but obviously he couldn't say anything. "What are you looking at?" He looked down at the bag he was holding."N-nothing..." Ringo gave him a weird look before turning around again. Hey! I'm out of crisps! George crumpled up the bag and threw it. He was usually quiet, but today just wasn't a good day so far.

"We gotta go to the studio! Come ooon!" Riongo tugged on his arm. Usually he'd laugh in response, but not today. "I don't want to." He sat back down. "But we need to get that album done!"

"You can't make me do anything, and I don't want to do any recording. So there."

Ringo blinked, surprised. George wasn't usually like this at all, maybe he was just stressed out. "Hey...is it putting too much pressure on you?" He put his arm around him. "No..."

"Are you sick?"

"No."

"...is one of us bothering you?" George froze then sighed. "Yes." Ringo was happy he finally figured it out, but it also saddened him. "That's not good. Did Paul do something?"

"Not this time."

"John then?"

"Besides being John, no." That only left one option. "Are...you bothered by me? Did I do something?" Ringo looked down. "It's not your fault, Rings. It's mine..." George whispered. "Your fault? How?" He scooted closer. "I...can't tell you..."

"Oh..." The older propped himself up on his elbows as he went deep in thought. "Hey George?"

"Yeah?"

"If I get you to smile, will you tell me?" Ringo grinned at him. "Alright." George knew he needed to try his best to not let his biggest secret come out, no matter what happened. "Great!" He made a funny face, but the younger sighed with an annoyed expression. "Um...okay...what do you call a cow with a twitch?"

"I don't know, what?" He asked in a monotone voice.

"Beef jerky! Oh come on, that was a good one." George closed his eyes and sighed. "Hey! Don't fall asleep on me!" Ringo jabbed him in the ribs. He muttered and rubbed the spot. "Plese never do that again, it hurts."

Suddenly, something in his head clicked. "Does it?" He asked, smiling. "Or are you a little ticklish?"

"No, that's for children. Please leave me alone." Ringo pouted, and kept jabbing at him gently. George turned away, trying to keep a straight face. "Stop doing that!"

"Nope!" The jabbing turned into light tickling, and he tried pressing his face in the chair to hid his smile. "Georgie, are you smiling?"

"N-no..." Ringo pulled him out of the chair and looked at his face. "Yes you are."

"Dammit," He whispered. "You gotta tell me now!"

"Um...well..."

"I'll tickle you again." Why you little- "Fine...just please don't hate me." Ringo rolled his eyes. "I could never hate you, silly." George felt a little more confident. "It's just...I love the way your hair is, I love your smile, I love your nose, I love how funny you are, and I love you. I'm sorry, it's my fault I fancy you, not yours. I'm still thinking you probably hate me now...besides, you met that Maureen girl." He looked surprised. "Really?"

"Y-yeah...it's okay that you think I'm crazy, I would if I was yo-" His words were cut off by his best mate closing the distance. Ringo pulled away, smiling shyly. "I love you too, ya git. Want to go start recording now?" George finally smiled back willingly.

"Yeah."

"They aren't here yet? Are you sure, Paul?"

"Yes John, quit being paranoid and kiss me already," He huffed softly. "Okay, if you're sure."

Suddenly, Ringo and George walked into the studio, holding hands.

"I KNEW IT! I TOLD YOU! FIVE QUID, YOU LOSER!" Paul yelled.