Debbie Doll | Ringo Starr ✅

9

Ritch still held my hand as he pulled me up the stairs and pounded on the door with his free fist. It opened after almost a minute, and John was standing there. He was still in his underwear. He looked like he had just woken up, but of course it was almost 7PM, so he would have slept for about eighteen hours if that was true - and besides, he had been gone when I had woken up that morning.

Silently, I widened my eyes to plead with him. Don't tell him I was here last night.

John smirked at us, and his smirk only grew when his eyes slid down our arms and saw that our hands were entwined.

"Well good morning to the two of you, too." He paused, "you're looking very... cosy... anything I can help you both with?"

"Daddy kind of -"

"He kicked off about nothing," Ritchie interrupted, "and he's mad about her working at the Cavern."

John clicked his teeth, "well that won't do - has he even been to the club?"

"No." I answered as I crossed my arms against my chest and let go of Ritchie's hand. "He didn't even hear me out about it, just started whinging when Ritchie said it was sleazy -"

"Well there's your problem," John turned and gestured for us to follow him into the flat, "you should have kept your big mouth shut, son." We sat on the settee, Ritchie first and me so close to him that I was practically sitting on his lap.

John went into his bedroom and pulled on some clothes before he rejoined us, sitting in the armchair opposite the settee. He was smirking at us.

After several minutes of the three of us sitting in silence exchanging glances with one another, Ritchie cleared his throat. "I'll take a cup of tea, John." He turned to me, "you want one, doll?"

"Doll, eh?" John raised an eyebrow.

Ritch and I both glared at him and he shut up, thankfully.

"Tea..." he got up and left the room.

I turned to Ritchie, "you have to be more careful," I told him softly, nuzzling my head into his neck. He reciprocated, doing the same as me. He pressed a soft kiss to my soft skin and chuckled.

"I don't like the taste of your perfume."

I giggled, "well then I guess you don't like the taste of me..."

Ritchie drew away and looked into my eyes. "No," he said softly, "I most definitely do." He paused, "in fact, I'd like to taste more of you..."

I felt myself growing hot.

Did John have the heating on?

Did John even have heating?

"I wish you weren't my stepsister." He drew away from me, shuffling several inches further along the settee until he could rest his arm on the side of it, and stretch his legs out comfortably without touching me.

The space beside me felt empty.

I frowned, opening my mouth to say something to him, but then John walked in and the opportunity was gone.

"You can stay the night, I guess." He put the teas down on the milk crate in front of us and said, "I'll take the settee, Ringo, you can take the floor -"

"Ritch and I have to share the bed at home," I interrupted, shocking both of the men and causing them to look at me in surprise, "so he can just share with me."

"You share?" John raised an eyebrow and I nodded.

"Well we haven't actually had the chance to, yet, but we'd better get used to it, so we'll take the bed and you can have the whole of the living room to yourself."

Calling it a living room was a bit of a stretch, but it was a room with a settee, an armchair, a record player and records, and a milk crate in it.

"Right, well..." John bit his lips, "let's drink this and head off then, yeah?"

We nodded and drank our teas in almost dead silence.

Ritchie and I climbed into John's bed fully clothed. Guiltily, I remembered waking up in it this morning.

It didn't seem like it was that long ago.

He took me into his arms and pulled me against his body, burying his head in the space between my neck and shoulder.

"Y'know what you said earlier...?" I whispered into the darkness.

For a few seconds, there was silence.

Had he already fallen asleep?

But then he grumbled, "yeah?"

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"That you w-wished I wasn't your stepister." I paused, "that you wanted to taste more of me?"

He was silent.

"R-Ritch...?" I pushed after a minute of him breathing into the back of my neck and not saying anything.

"I meant it." Ritchie said quietly in a gruff, serious tone of voice as he tightened his hold on me.

"But which part?" I asked quietly, my heart racing in my chest, beating so loudly that I was sure he would be able to hear it.

"Both... but as we are now, we can't do anymore." He sat up and pressed a light kiss to my lips. "Everyone thinks it's wrong," I told him, "that w-we're wrong -"

"Nobody knows about us." Ritchie whispered as his hands slid further down my body and cupped my hips. He kissed me again, this time a little more forcefully. I gasped into it and he poked his tongue into my mouth, immediately bringing it to massage mine.

"If they find out -"

"Maybe it is wrong," he surprised me, "but we can control ourselves..." his fingers dug into my hips, "we can let ourselves have this... nothing else, just kisses."

For now, that would have to do. I didn't know if I would be able to control myself around him in the future, because everything about him made my nerve endings set alight.

But I was willing to try. I was willing to try and maintain a distance between us - I was willing to keep to only kisses, if it meant that he would be happy.

I nodded, and he pulled away, snuggling back up against me.

"Night, Ritchie," I whispered quietly.

"Night, doll."