The real story of what happened between Lennon and Epstein according to his childhood friend Pete Shotton...

"I visited John at Aunt Mimi’s a few days after his return to England. And when he started in about how much he had enjoyed Spain, I could hardly resist taking the piss out of him. “So you had a good time with Brian, then?” I smirked. Nudge nudge, wink wink.

I was somewhat taken aback when John didn’t so much as crack a smile. “Oh, fuckin’ hell,” he groaned. “Not you as well, Pete!”

“What do you mean, not me as well?”

“They’re all fucking going on about it.”

It’s OK, John. Don’t take it so serious. I’m just joking, for Christ’s sake.”

“Actually Pete,” he said softly, “Something did happen with him one night.”

Now that wiped the grin right off my face. Had I even dreamed there might be any truth whatsoever to the rumors, I would never have made light of the subject in the first place. Still – as John surely knew – I would have stood by him, and let the rest of the world handle the business of passing moral judgement, even if he had just told me he’d committed murder. And John would surely have done the same for me. Which, after all, is what true friendship is all about.

“What happened,” John explained, “is that Eppy just kept on and on at me. Until one night I finally just pulled me trousers down and said to him: ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, Brian, just stick it up me fucking arse then.’

“And he said to me, ‘Actually, John, I don’t do that kind of thing. That’s not what I like to do.’

“‘Well,’ I said, ‘what is it you like to do, then?’

“And he said, ‘I’d really just like to touch you, John.’

“And so I let him toss me off.”

And that was that. End of story.

“That’s all, John” I said. “Well, so what? What’s the big fucking deal, then?”

“Yeah, so fucking what! The poor bastard. He’s having a fucking hard enough time anyway.” This was in reference to the “butch” dockers who, on several recent occasions, had rewarded Brian’s advances by beating him to a bloody pulp.

“So what harm did it do, then, Pete, for fuck’s sake?” John asked rhetorically. “No harm at all. The poor fucking bastard, he can’t help the way he is.”

Pete Shotton (John Lennon: In My Life)