Leering (Ringo/Everyone, I think)

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No one cares for the drummers. It's a sort of universal thing. Sitting there at the back, rarely getting to sing, just a backdrop, part of the scenery. Invisible, almost.

Ringo certainly feels invisible, and his bandmates take care of increasing that. They just love to leave him out, except Rory, but then again, Rory is also the one who made him push the drumset all the way to the back of the stage, so...

Anyways. Hamburg is a big city. He has no need to stick around if they don't want him to, there's enough clubs and alcohol and blokes to lose his mind twice before even remembering them.

So, he slumps back and drinks his weight on beer as he listens to some other merseybeat band play their covers... Not that bad, they are. They look just as fucked up as he is, though.

Their lead singer has a toilet seat around his neck, or maybe Ringo's had too much to drink. Probably both.

They're all quite handsome, he notices that too. It's late and they're on their third set of the night, but Ringo knows for a fact that, on earlier hours, they gather quite the crowd of horny lads and the few straight birds looking to bring any of them into their bed.

Right now the place's kinda dead, only the bartender and a few blackout drunks here and there, Ringo himself being one of them.

He ogles at them a little, honestly. They seem so tightly knit, all five of them... Ringo's seen them hang out in their breaks, sit together and drink together and laugh together... And he wants that. He wants to be with them. He wants to belong somewhere.

He also maybe probably wants to shag them, but that's not quite as noble of a sentiment to talk about it.

Mr Lead Singer has a nice, raspy voice, and a slightly thick frame... Looks like Elvis, he does, with the sideburns and the hair.

His right hand man, tall and curvy and soft faced, has gorgeous doe eyes, and some rather nice hands dancing on his guitar.

Their third stooge, a thin lad who couldn't possibly be old enough to be there, has these sharp fangs on that wide smile of his, and plays the best guitar solos Ringo has ever heard.

The bassist seems a bit detached, but he joins the teasing time to time. He's a proper James Dean up there, dark shades and aloof attitude.

Then there's the drummer. A bit more put together than his mates, his handsome face glistening with sweat, but his hair remaining locked on place.

They're all sweaty, probably smell foul, but Ringo's horny and not particularly picky and dammit he'd do anything to bed any of them.

As he finishes his beer, the lads play their last chords and say their thank yous and goodbyes, tumbling out of the stage and holding onto each others to keep themselves upright.

Yeah, definitely fucked up. It's almost comical, the contrast between their cheeriness and how pissed the club's owner is, when he drags them into his office with steam pretty much blowing out of his ears.

To Ringo's bad luck, whatever scolding they get in there probably scares them off, and they leave the pub hurriedly, a bit more sobered up.

He almost considers following them, he knows they're staying at the Bambi Kino, but decides not to. Another day, he'll catch one of them. Maybe all of them...

The mental picture doesn't really do him any favors, his pants were tight enough already when the show started.

Someone sits beside him at the bar, starts talking, but it barely registers on his mind. Maybe he should head back... A cold shower would do wonders now...

'Hey!'

'Huh?'

He turns around, and it's the handsome drummer. Oh. Oh boy.

'Are ye listening to me?!'

'N-no. No, sorry'

Lad seems... Pissed. In the bad way. The fuming way, the 'say the wrong word and I'll kill you' kind of way.

'I asked ye what were ye lookin' at up there, bastard'

'Er... What do ye mean?'

'Oh, ye know damn well what I mean... Yer disgusting, leering at me mates like that, yer lucky they didn't noticed, John wouldn't even warn before beating the shit outta ye'

'I-I wasn't leering'

'Ye sure weren't... Stop it!'

The lad punches him in the shoulder, pushing him a bit away as well, but it barely registers on Ringo's mind either.

He's hypnotized, dazed and dizzy just looking into those warm eyes... This lad isn't particularly remarkable like his mates are, but he sure is beautiful, and even his disapproving stare makes Ringo's heartbeat speed up.

'Yer a swine!'

'I'm sorry! I-I wasn't- I didn't mean to- I-'

Good god, why was it so hard talking to him? Ringo didn't consider himself a charmer in any way shape or form, but he was ususally able to communicate, and well, that certainly wasn't happening right now.

The lad, seemingly done with him, threw him another punch and stood up to walk away, stomping his way to the door.

Well, fuck. So much for first impressions.

***

I, once again, lost motivation. Fricking sue me.

I was planning to make this into an exploration of Ringo's relationship with each of the Quarrymen and how does he end up with Pete out of them all... I lost steam, tho.

Parts of this included Ringo bonding with George and indeed getting his shit beaten out of by John out of jealousy, him and Stuart hanging around and discussing their mates and Ringo realizing Stu is hopelessly in love with Paul but Paul doesn't care about him, exploration of the Pack Mentality Quarrymen who don't mind sleeping all together or looking after each other or fighting for each other, Ringo awkwardly trying to seduce Pete except Pete fails to realize it and ends up fighting him (and winning), Ringo eventually being welcomed on their friendship/fellowship that's lowkey also a poly relationship except they never talk about it, etc.

Mostly I wanted to see Ringo looking for a boyfriend amongst them but discarding the idea for different reasons (mostly as to not disrupt the weird McLencliffesonest thing they got going on), at least until they realize he's not some rando looking for a one night stand but rather a lonely liddol creacher who wants to be loved.

And despite the fact that all five do open up to him, in the end it's Pete who gets him most of the time anyways, they bond over feeling ignored and casted aside by their respective bands but make up by having each others.

It's a complicated dynamic, not sure I would've been able to properly pull it off, the balance between 'everything and everyone goes' and the jealousy and posessiveness, the closeness of all five yet also the rejection they show to Pete, and with Ringo, an external force, as the narrator, I kinda dug my own grave.

So yeah.

Ideas, ideas.

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