teleidoplex (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
teleidoplex) wrote2006-12-22 01:06 am
teleidoplex) wrote2006-12-22 01:06 am
Entry tags:
A Most Ingenious Pair of Docs
Title: A Most Ingenious Pair of Docs
Rating: NC17 and then some
Media: Doctor Who (Post Doomsday)
Characters: Nine/Rose/Ten
Summary: It takes more than one Time Lord to pierce the void. Lucky for Rose, there are two who are willing to take the risk.
Spoilers: Doctor Who, New Seasons 1 & 2
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I hocked it all to buy christmas presents, including my hair and my watch. Stupid Magi.
Archive: At A Teaspoon and an Open Mind. If you want it, check with me first.
Finished: Make that two more to go!
This is the chapter where I really prove that I’m a Nine/Rose shipper. I love my Nine and I love my angst, and here I wallow in them both to my heart’s content.
I don’t know what happened to the story, and I’ve given up trying to predict how much longer it will take me to write everything. I think there are going to be two more parts after this (or at least, I have two more scenes I plan to write), but given that I’m apparently very wordy when I write smut, who the heck knows any more. Hopefully, people aren’t minding.
I don't own anything but student loan debt, and y'all are welcome to that.
Part Nine
They moved to the bedroom, but all three were still overcome by post-coital exhaustion. They snuggled under the covers of her bed, limbs languidly entwining, exchanging soft kisses and caresses. Eventually they fell into a satisfied slumber.
Rose woke some while later. It was still dark but the clock on her bureau showed that it wasn’t all that late. She was lying on her stomach, arm thrown across the chest of her second Doctor, lips resting against the cool skin of his shoulder. It took her a moment to realize that her first Doctor was no longer in bed with them. Raising her head slightly, she saw a dark shape limned by the faint light coming through the window. She brushed a kiss against her second Doctor’s shoulder and rose from the bed, careful not to wake him. Slipping on a t-shirt and loose, drawstring bottoms, she padded quietly to the window.
He was dressed again, including the leather jacket she’d come to think of as his armor. He didn’t turn to her, although he must have heard her stirring. His shoulders had tensed slightly, though. Ignoring the unspoken signals, she slipped her hand into his, curling her fingers around his cool skin.
“Everything all right?” she whispered, knowing it was not. He just smiled tightly in response. She glanced over at the slumbering figure on the bed, then tugged gently at his hand, “C’mon.”
She led him out of the bedroom, but one look at his face as he glanced at the sofa told her it wasn’t far enough. She pulled on a hoodie and slipped on some trainers, hoping the unseasonable warmth still held. Grabbing his hand again, she silently led him out into the night.
They walked for a long time, hand in hand, not speaking. It was so strange, being with him again after so long yet knowing him so intimately, so much better than she knew him before. She wondered if it seemed even stranger for him. She realized that she didn’t even know when he came from – how soon after she’d met him, how soon before the end, before he changed. She was afraid to ask, afraid to accidentally let something slip. She wanted so badly to warn him about Satellite Five and the Daleks, but she knew that if anything was taboo, it was that. So she walked silently with him, hands swinging gently between them, and struggled over how to speak to this man she knew so intimately.
“The Zeppelins are a nice touch.” He broke the silence as they were passing a small park. It was still early enough that they had seen several people, couples and groups walking home from pubs or out to some later-evening entertainment. He led her up to the park’s locked gate and dropped her hand to pull out his sonic screwdriver. When the lock popped open, he ushered her through and into the dark and deserted green, “I’ve always thought that London could do with a few more Zeppelins. Guess the Hindenburg crash never happened in this dimension. Oh, the humanity.”
“Naw, no Hindenburg. Just Cy—er…” she broke off. He shot her a questioning glance, one eyebrow raised. She grimaced, “I’m not sure what I can and can’t tell you. Seems to me like I shouldn’t say anything at all, like I’ve already said too much.”
There was a certain pride in the small smile he gave her, as if he was pleased she’d thought through that problem, “You can tell me anything. It’s safe. I won’t remember any of it.”
“What?” She vaguely recalled that they’d mentioned something to this effect during their bickering, but she’d dismissed it because it hadn’t made any sense, “Why not?”
“Closed time-loop,” he said, as if that would explain everything, “I can’t remember because I don’t remember. Or rather, my future self doesn’t remember. When we go back, he’ll put me back to sleep and hide the memory so I can’t find it. Should be easy. Live as long as I have, you’re bound to build up a lot of dark corners and dusty compartments in your mind. I’ll forget. Time-loop closed. Mission accomplished.”
“You’ll forget? All of this?” She stopped, forcing him to stop as well. He turned towards her, but his face was still shuttered and unreadable.
“I have to. It was the only way.”
“But…” she struggled over the melancholy awfulness of it. Tonight was what she’d always wanted with him, but never imagined he wanted in return. This was their goodbye, and he wouldn’t even remember? She felt tears well up alongside denial, but she was already recognizing the inevitability of it. It made sense. In that moment she hated rationality.
“We were never like this,” she stepped closer to him, laying a hand upon his chest, because she now knew it was allowed, welcome even. She could feel the steady double rhythm of his heartbeats beneath her palm, “I was wondering how you could go back after tonight and have us be the way I remember us being. I guess now I know.”
He gathered her close. Her own arms slid around his back, under the warm leather of his jacket. She rested her cheek against his chest and he set his chin atop her head. They stood like that for some time, Rose nestled against her Doctor. The sounds of the city were muffled by the trees that lined the park. Somewhere nearby a pub was enjoying the custom of the after-dinner and -show crowd. She could hear faint, lively music spilling out every time the door opened and closed. But in the darkened square of green, London seemed as distant as any alien planet. The light rise and fall of their breathing was the only sound that mattered in the stillness.
“When is it for you? I mean,” she struggled to think of a better phrasing, “where are we, uh…”
“We just came back from…seeing your father,” he answered, saving her from stumbling through what she’d wanted to ask, “You’re…my Rose is staying the night with Jackie.”
“I remember that,” she pulled back slightly to look up at him, “you stayed with the TARDIS. I thought you were still angry with me.”
“I wasn’t. I’m not,” she could feel him starting to relax, as if holding her close, being able to talk to her freely, was soothing, “how long until…do we have much time left?”
“A few months,” she whispered. It didn’t seem like much time to her. It must seem infinitesimal to him, “but it makes sense that he would choose to get you when he did. In a little while…this guy starts traveling with us,” the Doctor’s brow furrowed with irritation, and Rose hurried to reassure him, “oh, no. He’s…you’ll like him. He’s like you, only with…” Her words fell away as she remembered a conversation they hadn’t had yet. There was another distant swell of music and laughter, and Rose realized that she didn’t want to waste this precious time with him talking about things that wouldn’t matter.
“Will you dance with me?” she asked. He looked like he wanted to pursue her dangling sentence, but after a moment he silently adjusted his hold on her and they began swaying back and forth to the distant sounds of the city. She held his gaze as they moved, searching for the deeper parts of self that he usually kept hidden.
“Why did you say yes? Why did you agree to come?” she finally asked. He stilled, though he didn’t release her.
“Don’t you know?”
“No.”
The Doctor's expression alternated between confusion and exasperation, “He’s never told you how he…how we’ve always felt?”
“No,” Rose suddenly found it hard to breathe. Her hands tightened involuntarily against the muscles of his back. She tried to appear nonchalant, “Never quite got around to it, I guess.”
“He’s an idiot,” the Doctor muttered darkly. Rose couldn’t help being amused by that.
“He’s you.”
“Oi, no need to be insulting.”
“It’s weird, you not liking him when he’s you,” she observed, even though she would have been surprised if things had been any other way. She cocked her head, “Why don’t you like him?”
“He’s not good enough for you.” The Doctor’s quiet response made her smile. She refrained from pointing out once again that they were the same man. He’d probably respond that he wasn’t good enough for her either.
“And you’re jealous,” she pointed out gently. He opened his mouth, most likely to deny it, but she silenced him with a finger across his lips, “I love him. And you know I love him, and you feel left out of that. But Doctor?” she moved her finger to brush along his cheek. He had grown utterly still, and she could feel the tension in him, “I love you. I love you. Your Rose, staying with Jackie right now? She loves you. If I’d known that you…well. But I didn’t. What’s done is done, or will be, or whatever. Point is, you shouldn’t feel jealous or left out. I love you.”
“Rose,” his eyes were shining just a little too brightly as he framed her face, “I…can’t—”
“S’okay,” she smiled bravely, “you don’t have to say anything. You shouldn’t. Feels like it’d be cheating. I’ve waited this long, I can wait until the time is right. You’ll get around to it…eventually.”
He smiled softly, “I wouldn’t be too sure. We did just agree I was an idiot.”
“Well, that’s obvious. Any other bloke’d be kissing me by now.”
His smile became a full-fledged grin, and in moments she was swept into an engulfing hug. She laughed as he swung her around, stumbling slightly as he deposited on her feet. Before she could get her bearings, he was kissing her with gentle intensity.
His lips were cool, though they quickly warmed in contact with hers. This kiss was more tentative, more exploratory than the openly carnal or languidly sated ones they’d shared earlier. It almost felt like they were doing everything backwards, falling in love in reverse. What should have felt unexceptional given what they’d already shared instead felt trembling, fresh and new.
Aroused by the brush of lips but wanting more, she opened her mouth to his. Their kiss deepened to the next level of tongues lightly dancing, teeth gently catching, open-mouthed breaths mingling. His hands found their way under the hem of her t-shirt, caressing the bare skin of her lower back. A mild shiver ran through her and she pressed closer to him.
She felt a momentary pang of guilt when she thought of her second Doctor left behind back at her flat, but she rationalized it away. She would have a lifetime – well, her lifetime anyways – with him. This, now, tonight would be her only chance to be with her first Doctor. Her second Doctor could just deal.
As if reading her thoughts – and who was to say he wasn’t; she’d never gotten a clear answer from him on the whole telepathic thing – the Doctor’s lips broke away to press against her temple.
“I want you. Here. Now.”
“Yes,” she breathed, taking the opportunity to nip kisses down to the collar of his jumper, “yes, please.”
Pulling away from her briefly, he shucked his jacket and spread it on the grass. Trying to assist in preparing their hasty bower, she took off her hoodie and laid it down as well. He dropped to his knees, pulling her down with him, and kissed her deeply. His hands were under her t-shirt, splayed against the skin of her back. She worked her hands under his jumper, running her nails up his spine. He jerked and responded by ripping her t-shirt over her head. Her nipples instantly pebbled in the cool night air, but his hands were already covering her breasts, firm and calloused – although not really that much warmer than the night, she realized. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as his thumbs brushed across each nipple, rolling and flicking them gently.
Opening her eyes, she realized he was watching her intently, eyes shifting from her face to her chest and back. When he caught her gaze, he smiled in the way she loved so much. It wasn’t the tight grin he used when he was hiding his pain, or the manic grin when he was about to do something completely mad, or even the daft, friendly grin he gave when he was trying to disarm a potentially sticky situation. It was the sweet, intimate grin he would give her when he showed her something he thought was fantastic, and was hoping she found it fantastic too. She grinned back, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth.
He lowered his head to her breast, tumbling her back onto the jacket as he took her nipple into his mouth. She was caught somewhere between a laugh and a groan as he alternated between nipping and sucking at her breast. His hands skimmed the narrowing of her waist, the flare of her hips and over the tops of her thighs before sliding back up her center. He caught the waistband of her bottoms and knickers and peeled them down her body while his lips explored the soft skin of her belly and inner thighs. There was a momentary scuffle at her feet as her clothes got caught up in her trainers, but she eventually kicked everything free. While they were laughing over that she took the opportunity to tackle him beneath her, straddling him after a brief tussle with a triumphant grin.
“I win!” she crowed.
“If you say so. I’m the one who still has all his clothes on,” the Doctor responded with a smirk.
“Yeah, about that…” Rose leaned in and began lifting his jumper, her lips exploring every inch of skin as it became exposed. He was hard beneath her and she rolled her hips against him in promise of things to come.
She trailed a slow path up his chest, relishing the startled hiss he let out when her teeth scraped against his flat nipples. When the jumper was off she carefully bundled it beneath his head, kissing him as she did so. His hands came up to cup her face, turning the kiss into an intense, silent communication of the feelings she’d refused to let him speak. He curled up to meet her, pushing her back with his kiss so that she was sitting upright atop him. Without breaking the kiss she slid back down his legs and quickly unfastened his jeans. Her hand slipped inside and wrapped around him. He groaned into the kiss, and their tongues began to echo the pumping of her hand around his cock. One of his hands left her face, skimming down her body to rest between her legs. Two fingers trailed against the wet slit of her cunt, pulling moisture forward to massage her clit. Their kisses grew rougher, more desperate as they worked each other with their hands.
“Doctor,” she finally gasped, tearing her mouth away and burying her head in his shoulder at the intensity of the pleasure. He had slipped two fingers into her and she was riding his hand shamelessly. He was thrusting into her fist with equal fervor, “please. I need…you…”
“Yes,” he growled. He pulled his fingers from her and her muscles clenched at the sudden emptiness. Removing her hand and lifting her from his lap he quickly pulled off his boots and jeans.
Time seemed to stop for a moment – although given that she suspected he’d find it amusing that she thought so, she decided not to share that observation with him. They were kneeling naked before each other on a pile of discarded clothing in the middle of a London park. His skin was pale, the muscles of his thighs lean and long – runner’s legs, she thought with a small smile. His long face and large ears were flushed slightly darker than the rest of him. He wasn’t traditionally good-looking, but he was so compelling that her desire heightened just looking at him. Their gazes caught and she realized he’d been looking her over just as she’d been admiring him.
“Come here,” he said. She crawled over, straddling his lap and steadying herself by grasping his shoulders. His hands cupped her bum to support her. The head of his cock was nudging at her entrance and she strained towards him, but he held her back.
“Doctor?” she asked, searching his eyes for some clue to his hesitation. They had become shuttered and unreadable again.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked. She blinked in surprise, and for a moment she considered telling him that no, what she wanted was to smack him one in exasperation for suddenly getting cold feet. Tamping down on that (entirely justified, in her opinion) reaction, she cradled his face, his dear, daft face, letting her expression leave him in no doubt that this was exactly what she wanted.
“What do you want?” she asked. The question seemed to break him. He let loose a ragged breath, and his expression was bleak.
“I want to not forget.”
The world seemed to fall silent with his quiet words. Her throat constricted and she felt the warm splash of tears down her cheek. She struggled for something encouraging, something comforting to say, but found nothing.
“I wish I could give that to you,” she said helplessly. He searched her eyes for endless moments.
“Tell me again,” he demanded hoarsely. It took her only a moment to understand what he was asking for.
“I love you,” she offered, hoping it was enough. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers.
“Again,” he whispered.
“I love you,” she spoke into his lips. He kissed the words away.
“Again.”
“I love—” her breath caught as he slowly entered her, the ‘you’ coming out more as a long, low moan than an avowal. She was filled with him, filled with love for him. It was almost too much for her, and she held very still lest she break right then. He seemed to sense her need, and waited until she whispered her love again to slide back out to the edge of her.
They began to move together, her soft mantra breaking over him with every thrust. His lips traveled her neck, her shoulders, down to her breasts, then back up to rain kisses over her face. Never her lips, though. She continued to murmur into the night as their pace quickened, grew more frenzied. Her words grew more jumbled and incoherent as thought began to break into pleasure – loveloveloveyou…I…you…I…loveyoulove…love…you…Doctor!
With a final cry she came, and he captured her lips at last, his own cry of completion muffled in her mouth. She shuddered over him, into him, loving the feel of her muscles tightening around him as he spasmed into her. The ripples seemed to go on and on, rocking her to the core of her being. He rode them out with her until she collapsed boneless against him. With a soft chuckle he rolled them back onto their clothing, still holding her atop him. She mumbled something that might have been another ‘I love you’, but mostly was interested in cuddling into her new body pillow for a nice nap. He brushed her tangled hair back behind her ear, causing her to crack an eye at him. He was gazing at her with an unusually sappy look. She grimaced.
“I must look a fright,” she observed, thinking that it had been hours of sweaty activity since her hair had been brushed, much less washed. She was pretty sure she had grass in her hair, and that her face had probably gone from ‘glowing’ to sweaty sometime back on the sofa. His smile just grew wider.
“You look beautiful,” he assured.
“Really?” she began to smile shyly
“For a human.”
She glared at him and wondered if it counted as murder if your lover regenerated.
Rating: NC17 and then some
Media: Doctor Who (Post Doomsday)
Characters: Nine/Rose/Ten
Summary: It takes more than one Time Lord to pierce the void. Lucky for Rose, there are two who are willing to take the risk.
Spoilers: Doctor Who, New Seasons 1 & 2
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I hocked it all to buy christmas presents, including my hair and my watch. Stupid Magi.
Archive: At A Teaspoon and an Open Mind. If you want it, check with me first.
Finished: Make that two more to go!
This is the chapter where I really prove that I’m a Nine/Rose shipper. I love my Nine and I love my angst, and here I wallow in them both to my heart’s content.
I don’t know what happened to the story, and I’ve given up trying to predict how much longer it will take me to write everything. I think there are going to be two more parts after this (or at least, I have two more scenes I plan to write), but given that I’m apparently very wordy when I write smut, who the heck knows any more. Hopefully, people aren’t minding.
I don't own anything but student loan debt, and y'all are welcome to that.
Part Nine
They moved to the bedroom, but all three were still overcome by post-coital exhaustion. They snuggled under the covers of her bed, limbs languidly entwining, exchanging soft kisses and caresses. Eventually they fell into a satisfied slumber.
Rose woke some while later. It was still dark but the clock on her bureau showed that it wasn’t all that late. She was lying on her stomach, arm thrown across the chest of her second Doctor, lips resting against the cool skin of his shoulder. It took her a moment to realize that her first Doctor was no longer in bed with them. Raising her head slightly, she saw a dark shape limned by the faint light coming through the window. She brushed a kiss against her second Doctor’s shoulder and rose from the bed, careful not to wake him. Slipping on a t-shirt and loose, drawstring bottoms, she padded quietly to the window.
He was dressed again, including the leather jacket she’d come to think of as his armor. He didn’t turn to her, although he must have heard her stirring. His shoulders had tensed slightly, though. Ignoring the unspoken signals, she slipped her hand into his, curling her fingers around his cool skin.
“Everything all right?” she whispered, knowing it was not. He just smiled tightly in response. She glanced over at the slumbering figure on the bed, then tugged gently at his hand, “C’mon.”
She led him out of the bedroom, but one look at his face as he glanced at the sofa told her it wasn’t far enough. She pulled on a hoodie and slipped on some trainers, hoping the unseasonable warmth still held. Grabbing his hand again, she silently led him out into the night.
They walked for a long time, hand in hand, not speaking. It was so strange, being with him again after so long yet knowing him so intimately, so much better than she knew him before. She wondered if it seemed even stranger for him. She realized that she didn’t even know when he came from – how soon after she’d met him, how soon before the end, before he changed. She was afraid to ask, afraid to accidentally let something slip. She wanted so badly to warn him about Satellite Five and the Daleks, but she knew that if anything was taboo, it was that. So she walked silently with him, hands swinging gently between them, and struggled over how to speak to this man she knew so intimately.
“The Zeppelins are a nice touch.” He broke the silence as they were passing a small park. It was still early enough that they had seen several people, couples and groups walking home from pubs or out to some later-evening entertainment. He led her up to the park’s locked gate and dropped her hand to pull out his sonic screwdriver. When the lock popped open, he ushered her through and into the dark and deserted green, “I’ve always thought that London could do with a few more Zeppelins. Guess the Hindenburg crash never happened in this dimension. Oh, the humanity.”
“Naw, no Hindenburg. Just Cy—er…” she broke off. He shot her a questioning glance, one eyebrow raised. She grimaced, “I’m not sure what I can and can’t tell you. Seems to me like I shouldn’t say anything at all, like I’ve already said too much.”
There was a certain pride in the small smile he gave her, as if he was pleased she’d thought through that problem, “You can tell me anything. It’s safe. I won’t remember any of it.”
“What?” She vaguely recalled that they’d mentioned something to this effect during their bickering, but she’d dismissed it because it hadn’t made any sense, “Why not?”
“Closed time-loop,” he said, as if that would explain everything, “I can’t remember because I don’t remember. Or rather, my future self doesn’t remember. When we go back, he’ll put me back to sleep and hide the memory so I can’t find it. Should be easy. Live as long as I have, you’re bound to build up a lot of dark corners and dusty compartments in your mind. I’ll forget. Time-loop closed. Mission accomplished.”
“You’ll forget? All of this?” She stopped, forcing him to stop as well. He turned towards her, but his face was still shuttered and unreadable.
“I have to. It was the only way.”
“But…” she struggled over the melancholy awfulness of it. Tonight was what she’d always wanted with him, but never imagined he wanted in return. This was their goodbye, and he wouldn’t even remember? She felt tears well up alongside denial, but she was already recognizing the inevitability of it. It made sense. In that moment she hated rationality.
“We were never like this,” she stepped closer to him, laying a hand upon his chest, because she now knew it was allowed, welcome even. She could feel the steady double rhythm of his heartbeats beneath her palm, “I was wondering how you could go back after tonight and have us be the way I remember us being. I guess now I know.”
He gathered her close. Her own arms slid around his back, under the warm leather of his jacket. She rested her cheek against his chest and he set his chin atop her head. They stood like that for some time, Rose nestled against her Doctor. The sounds of the city were muffled by the trees that lined the park. Somewhere nearby a pub was enjoying the custom of the after-dinner and -show crowd. She could hear faint, lively music spilling out every time the door opened and closed. But in the darkened square of green, London seemed as distant as any alien planet. The light rise and fall of their breathing was the only sound that mattered in the stillness.
“When is it for you? I mean,” she struggled to think of a better phrasing, “where are we, uh…”
“We just came back from…seeing your father,” he answered, saving her from stumbling through what she’d wanted to ask, “You’re…my Rose is staying the night with Jackie.”
“I remember that,” she pulled back slightly to look up at him, “you stayed with the TARDIS. I thought you were still angry with me.”
“I wasn’t. I’m not,” she could feel him starting to relax, as if holding her close, being able to talk to her freely, was soothing, “how long until…do we have much time left?”
“A few months,” she whispered. It didn’t seem like much time to her. It must seem infinitesimal to him, “but it makes sense that he would choose to get you when he did. In a little while…this guy starts traveling with us,” the Doctor’s brow furrowed with irritation, and Rose hurried to reassure him, “oh, no. He’s…you’ll like him. He’s like you, only with…” Her words fell away as she remembered a conversation they hadn’t had yet. There was another distant swell of music and laughter, and Rose realized that she didn’t want to waste this precious time with him talking about things that wouldn’t matter.
“Will you dance with me?” she asked. He looked like he wanted to pursue her dangling sentence, but after a moment he silently adjusted his hold on her and they began swaying back and forth to the distant sounds of the city. She held his gaze as they moved, searching for the deeper parts of self that he usually kept hidden.
“Why did you say yes? Why did you agree to come?” she finally asked. He stilled, though he didn’t release her.
“Don’t you know?”
“No.”
The Doctor's expression alternated between confusion and exasperation, “He’s never told you how he…how we’ve always felt?”
“No,” Rose suddenly found it hard to breathe. Her hands tightened involuntarily against the muscles of his back. She tried to appear nonchalant, “Never quite got around to it, I guess.”
“He’s an idiot,” the Doctor muttered darkly. Rose couldn’t help being amused by that.
“He’s you.”
“Oi, no need to be insulting.”
“It’s weird, you not liking him when he’s you,” she observed, even though she would have been surprised if things had been any other way. She cocked her head, “Why don’t you like him?”
“He’s not good enough for you.” The Doctor’s quiet response made her smile. She refrained from pointing out once again that they were the same man. He’d probably respond that he wasn’t good enough for her either.
“And you’re jealous,” she pointed out gently. He opened his mouth, most likely to deny it, but she silenced him with a finger across his lips, “I love him. And you know I love him, and you feel left out of that. But Doctor?” she moved her finger to brush along his cheek. He had grown utterly still, and she could feel the tension in him, “I love you. I love you. Your Rose, staying with Jackie right now? She loves you. If I’d known that you…well. But I didn’t. What’s done is done, or will be, or whatever. Point is, you shouldn’t feel jealous or left out. I love you.”
“Rose,” his eyes were shining just a little too brightly as he framed her face, “I…can’t—”
“S’okay,” she smiled bravely, “you don’t have to say anything. You shouldn’t. Feels like it’d be cheating. I’ve waited this long, I can wait until the time is right. You’ll get around to it…eventually.”
He smiled softly, “I wouldn’t be too sure. We did just agree I was an idiot.”
“Well, that’s obvious. Any other bloke’d be kissing me by now.”
His smile became a full-fledged grin, and in moments she was swept into an engulfing hug. She laughed as he swung her around, stumbling slightly as he deposited on her feet. Before she could get her bearings, he was kissing her with gentle intensity.
His lips were cool, though they quickly warmed in contact with hers. This kiss was more tentative, more exploratory than the openly carnal or languidly sated ones they’d shared earlier. It almost felt like they were doing everything backwards, falling in love in reverse. What should have felt unexceptional given what they’d already shared instead felt trembling, fresh and new.
Aroused by the brush of lips but wanting more, she opened her mouth to his. Their kiss deepened to the next level of tongues lightly dancing, teeth gently catching, open-mouthed breaths mingling. His hands found their way under the hem of her t-shirt, caressing the bare skin of her lower back. A mild shiver ran through her and she pressed closer to him.
She felt a momentary pang of guilt when she thought of her second Doctor left behind back at her flat, but she rationalized it away. She would have a lifetime – well, her lifetime anyways – with him. This, now, tonight would be her only chance to be with her first Doctor. Her second Doctor could just deal.
As if reading her thoughts – and who was to say he wasn’t; she’d never gotten a clear answer from him on the whole telepathic thing – the Doctor’s lips broke away to press against her temple.
“I want you. Here. Now.”
“Yes,” she breathed, taking the opportunity to nip kisses down to the collar of his jumper, “yes, please.”
Pulling away from her briefly, he shucked his jacket and spread it on the grass. Trying to assist in preparing their hasty bower, she took off her hoodie and laid it down as well. He dropped to his knees, pulling her down with him, and kissed her deeply. His hands were under her t-shirt, splayed against the skin of her back. She worked her hands under his jumper, running her nails up his spine. He jerked and responded by ripping her t-shirt over her head. Her nipples instantly pebbled in the cool night air, but his hands were already covering her breasts, firm and calloused – although not really that much warmer than the night, she realized. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as his thumbs brushed across each nipple, rolling and flicking them gently.
Opening her eyes, she realized he was watching her intently, eyes shifting from her face to her chest and back. When he caught her gaze, he smiled in the way she loved so much. It wasn’t the tight grin he used when he was hiding his pain, or the manic grin when he was about to do something completely mad, or even the daft, friendly grin he gave when he was trying to disarm a potentially sticky situation. It was the sweet, intimate grin he would give her when he showed her something he thought was fantastic, and was hoping she found it fantastic too. She grinned back, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth.
He lowered his head to her breast, tumbling her back onto the jacket as he took her nipple into his mouth. She was caught somewhere between a laugh and a groan as he alternated between nipping and sucking at her breast. His hands skimmed the narrowing of her waist, the flare of her hips and over the tops of her thighs before sliding back up her center. He caught the waistband of her bottoms and knickers and peeled them down her body while his lips explored the soft skin of her belly and inner thighs. There was a momentary scuffle at her feet as her clothes got caught up in her trainers, but she eventually kicked everything free. While they were laughing over that she took the opportunity to tackle him beneath her, straddling him after a brief tussle with a triumphant grin.
“I win!” she crowed.
“If you say so. I’m the one who still has all his clothes on,” the Doctor responded with a smirk.
“Yeah, about that…” Rose leaned in and began lifting his jumper, her lips exploring every inch of skin as it became exposed. He was hard beneath her and she rolled her hips against him in promise of things to come.
She trailed a slow path up his chest, relishing the startled hiss he let out when her teeth scraped against his flat nipples. When the jumper was off she carefully bundled it beneath his head, kissing him as she did so. His hands came up to cup her face, turning the kiss into an intense, silent communication of the feelings she’d refused to let him speak. He curled up to meet her, pushing her back with his kiss so that she was sitting upright atop him. Without breaking the kiss she slid back down his legs and quickly unfastened his jeans. Her hand slipped inside and wrapped around him. He groaned into the kiss, and their tongues began to echo the pumping of her hand around his cock. One of his hands left her face, skimming down her body to rest between her legs. Two fingers trailed against the wet slit of her cunt, pulling moisture forward to massage her clit. Their kisses grew rougher, more desperate as they worked each other with their hands.
“Doctor,” she finally gasped, tearing her mouth away and burying her head in his shoulder at the intensity of the pleasure. He had slipped two fingers into her and she was riding his hand shamelessly. He was thrusting into her fist with equal fervor, “please. I need…you…”
“Yes,” he growled. He pulled his fingers from her and her muscles clenched at the sudden emptiness. Removing her hand and lifting her from his lap he quickly pulled off his boots and jeans.
Time seemed to stop for a moment – although given that she suspected he’d find it amusing that she thought so, she decided not to share that observation with him. They were kneeling naked before each other on a pile of discarded clothing in the middle of a London park. His skin was pale, the muscles of his thighs lean and long – runner’s legs, she thought with a small smile. His long face and large ears were flushed slightly darker than the rest of him. He wasn’t traditionally good-looking, but he was so compelling that her desire heightened just looking at him. Their gazes caught and she realized he’d been looking her over just as she’d been admiring him.
“Come here,” he said. She crawled over, straddling his lap and steadying herself by grasping his shoulders. His hands cupped her bum to support her. The head of his cock was nudging at her entrance and she strained towards him, but he held her back.
“Doctor?” she asked, searching his eyes for some clue to his hesitation. They had become shuttered and unreadable again.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked. She blinked in surprise, and for a moment she considered telling him that no, what she wanted was to smack him one in exasperation for suddenly getting cold feet. Tamping down on that (entirely justified, in her opinion) reaction, she cradled his face, his dear, daft face, letting her expression leave him in no doubt that this was exactly what she wanted.
“What do you want?” she asked. The question seemed to break him. He let loose a ragged breath, and his expression was bleak.
“I want to not forget.”
The world seemed to fall silent with his quiet words. Her throat constricted and she felt the warm splash of tears down her cheek. She struggled for something encouraging, something comforting to say, but found nothing.
“I wish I could give that to you,” she said helplessly. He searched her eyes for endless moments.
“Tell me again,” he demanded hoarsely. It took her only a moment to understand what he was asking for.
“I love you,” she offered, hoping it was enough. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers.
“Again,” he whispered.
“I love you,” she spoke into his lips. He kissed the words away.
“Again.”
“I love—” her breath caught as he slowly entered her, the ‘you’ coming out more as a long, low moan than an avowal. She was filled with him, filled with love for him. It was almost too much for her, and she held very still lest she break right then. He seemed to sense her need, and waited until she whispered her love again to slide back out to the edge of her.
They began to move together, her soft mantra breaking over him with every thrust. His lips traveled her neck, her shoulders, down to her breasts, then back up to rain kisses over her face. Never her lips, though. She continued to murmur into the night as their pace quickened, grew more frenzied. Her words grew more jumbled and incoherent as thought began to break into pleasure – loveloveloveyou…I…you…I…loveyoulove…love…you…Doctor!
With a final cry she came, and he captured her lips at last, his own cry of completion muffled in her mouth. She shuddered over him, into him, loving the feel of her muscles tightening around him as he spasmed into her. The ripples seemed to go on and on, rocking her to the core of her being. He rode them out with her until she collapsed boneless against him. With a soft chuckle he rolled them back onto their clothing, still holding her atop him. She mumbled something that might have been another ‘I love you’, but mostly was interested in cuddling into her new body pillow for a nice nap. He brushed her tangled hair back behind her ear, causing her to crack an eye at him. He was gazing at her with an unusually sappy look. She grimaced.
“I must look a fright,” she observed, thinking that it had been hours of sweaty activity since her hair had been brushed, much less washed. She was pretty sure she had grass in her hair, and that her face had probably gone from ‘glowing’ to sweaty sometime back on the sofa. His smile just grew wider.
“You look beautiful,” he assured.
“Really?” she began to smile shyly
“For a human.”
She glared at him and wondered if it counted as murder if your lover regenerated.