Classic Rock Bands One-shots

Starrson: I'll Teach You

“You never learned to drive, Richie!” George looks at his boyfriend in disbelief,

“I’ve been in and out of the hospital since I was born, George. I don’t really have the time since I’m always sickly.” Ringo looks down a cigarette dangling from between his lips, “What’s the point? I have you.”

“I’m not going to be here forever, Ringo. You gotta learn babe.” he kisses him on the head making Richie swat at him.

Ringo huffs, “It’s not like you’re going to die at fifty-eight, you’re twenty and healthy.”

George shakes his head he takes the cigarette from Ringo and takes a hit from it, “Lets go use Brian’s junker car it’s about to die anyway. Lets go on one last joyride with it.”

“The one going to the scrap yard today?” Ringo asks, stealing his cigarette back.

George nods as he snatches the keys from Brian’s desk making sure Brian and the others were fast asleep still and off they went.  The two piled into the car Ringo was so excited to learn how to drive but he didn’t really want right now, not with this old beater of a car, “Alright, Rich you need to-“

Ringo sends the car flying into reverse ending a helpless mailbox’s life George winces as they drive over it bouncing the car as the cow mailbox shatters into small pieces under the weight of a thousand pound vehicle going unsafely backwards down the driveway, “As I was saying-“

Ringo does a sharp turn smacking the wheel getting it to spin breaking a handful of garden gnomes in the process one piece of gnome lands on the hood of the car and Ringo swerves hard to get it off. They are on an empty dirt road driving after that incident, “We’ll work more on pulling out of driveways later,” George checks to see how fast Ringo is going, “Alright how about you give it some more gas, pick up the speed. You’re lacking a little.” 

Ringo slams on the gas pedal making the ancient car sputter and jerk before flying like a bat out of hell down the dirt road. George quickly fastens his seatbelt he glances over noting Ringo has his seatbelt on without being asked too. He gets a good grade for wearing his seatbelt. The other stuff is like a D-.

George grabs onto the seat his nails digging into the cheap leather, “Richard! There’s a turn!” and Ringo doesn’t let off the gas in time,

They go flying through the guardrail ruining the tires as they goes high speeds down the rocky lumpy mountain. George can smell smoke and he thinks he swallowed a bug, they only stop halfway in a river where George spits out a frog, “Enough driving!” George screeches getting out, somehow he was unharmed soaking wet but unharmed.

Ringo comes out limping and looking sheepish, “Sorry, mate. Didn’t see the turn there.”

George shakes his head, “How do we get out of here?” he looks around,

“We climb!” Ringo points to the steep mountain they fell from,

“Fucking hell you better of brought your climbing shoes.”

George and Ringo begin climbing, Ringo’s ankle throbs, a burning hot pain shoots down every time he lifts it or puts his weight on it. Rich just bites his tongue he has to stop once he tastes blood. It was a struggle to climb and by the time they made it back onto the dirt road their hands were dirty, bruised, and bloody. Ringo has to sit on the side of the road for a moment panting and sunburnt. He looked miserable, George felt bad too but not as awful as Ringo. George looks around for any cars but there was no sign of life.

Ringo could hardly stand on his left foot now, George bites the bullet and carries him bridal style back to Brian’s they got even more sunburnt. He sees Brian and the two remaining Beatles standing around looking confused. Paul’s face lights up seeing them but goes to worry noticing how dirty and battered they are, “Boys!” Brian rushes them inside, he gets them stripped down to their briefs and he soaks them in cold water. 

The three men clean them up and apply aloe vera on their sunburnt areas the two wounded ones are placed on one of the king sized beds, “You’ve been missing for nearly three hours care to explain?” Brian asks,

“We nearly called the cops.” John piped up, “And I hate those bastards.”

Ringo looks down he feels ashamed he rubs at his wrapped ankle gingerly, “I was teaching Ringo to drive,” George says, making the others laugh and tease at Ringo, “We got chased by a car and Ringo drove off the guardrail.” George fibs.

The others stop, “It was the junk car right?” Brian asks,

“Yes, sir.” Ringo says, “Can we rest now?”

Brian nods and leads the unwounded Beatles out of the room, Ringo lays his head on George's chest and sighs contently, “Do you think they know about us?”

“No love.” George snuggles him, “I plan to keep it that way.”

Ringo closes his eyes exhaustion taking over George keeps a hand on Ringo’s hip rubbing soothing circles, “Nighty night, big baby.”

Ringo mutters something that sounds like “fuck you” followed by, “love you good nigh”, George chuckles and brushed Rich’s dark hair out of his face, “Love you too.”

The two fall asleep peacefully in each other’s arms letting their worn bodies finally rest after a long day. John walks in, he chuckles seeing them pressed against each other tightly, “Couple of poofs, huh?” he says teasingly joking to his sleeping bandmates, “I’ll keep your dirty little secret to myself.” he swipes George’s lighter out of his pocket and lights his cigarette, “Thanks for the light, Geo.”

He walks out and like he promised to them no one knew what he saw or that he saw anything. He didn’t treat them any differently nor act more like a douche to them. He was just happy Ringo wasn’t lonely anymore.