Classic Rock Oneshots

All Over Jesus

"We're more popular than Jesus now!"

As soon as the words left the auburn-haired man's mouth, his partner and bandmember, Ringo Starr, throws a palm into his own forehead at his lover's stupidity. John continues to drone on for a few more minutes, even after all the air in the room is sucked away like a vacuum until all the cameras aren't rolling anymore and the four Beatles + Brian Epstein are left alone in the once crowded room.

George is the first to speak and seemingly the only one who isn't extremely angry over the issue the rhythm guitarist just presented the whole group with.

"Tea?" he asks to the room full of fuming adults, John nods eagerly, already standing and trying to leave the bombsite he knew he had created.

"You sit right back down, Lennon." Eppy, the band's manager and close friend; almost a father-figure to the group, scolds. The classy man's posture is now as straight as a ruler, but as clear as glass; he was angry.

John clears his throat rather awkwardly before sitting back down in his spot, between Ringo and Paul, who were both glaring daggers at the almond-eyed boy.

"Why the utter hell would you say something like that to a crowd of both this press conference and all of the blooming world?" Brian mutters furiously through a hard-set jaw.

"I didn't mean it as somethin' negative! It was mainly just a joke! And if it wasn't a joke, it'd be fact! It wasn't somethin' harsh-!"

"Over a third of the population are Christian, and more than that are in America; where, to inform you, we'll be travelling in less than two weeks!" Brian shouts, his clean composure only coming undone for a second or two before regaining his usual togetherness.

George, having gotten his tea and returned to the couch where the rest of his band sat, finally spoke up again: "Yer never know, there could be no reaction to it at all. John was goin' on a bit there, so maybe they didn't catch it in all his useless ramblin'." The supposedly 'quiet' Beatle states, John, sending him a grateful look.

"I doubt that. Anythin' about their lord and saviour, and ears fuckin' prick up." Paul murmurs with a huff, rubbing his clean-shaven chin, and looking to the shortest Beatle for answers. But the Ringo was far too busy worried out of his brains to register anything above his horrible thoughts.

More bickering goes on, mostly between Brian and John; Brian scolding the younger man, and John trying to defend himself against Eppy's harsh points. But eventually, to the relief of the band and their weary manager, they made it through the herds of fans to the car and finally the hotel.

"Night, boys." Paul sighs tiredly and gives John and Ringo a half-hearted wave before following George into the suite they were forced to share.

The tension grew on the other 1/2 of the Beatles once they made it into their own suite and John was being stared down, to the death might I add, by the shorter, blue-eyed lad. The usually sarcastic man was silenced by fear and most of all shame as he bashfully met his boyfriend's eyes and blinked a few desperate times.

"No sex for as long as I can handle it." The smaller boy finally declares, making John's jaw drop.

"How long can yer handle it?" he tentatively asks, bravely reaching hos hand forward to rub up and down Ringo's thighs and hips.

"A bloody long time if yer keep this up, Lennon." the slightly older boy snarls like an angry puppy and turns his nose up at his boyfriend before walking past him to flop on the bed, Beatle suit and all.

"I'm sorry, luv, really am." the taller man whispers and softly comes to lay over Ringo, kissing the latter's cheek apologetically and wrapping his smaller hand in his own.