Fic: A Less Than Simple Misunderstanding (Doctor Who)
Title: A Less Than Simple Misunderstanding
Rating: NC17
Wordcount: 3.5k
Warnings: Explicit naughty things
Beta: vyctori
Disclaimer: Do not own.
Summary: “I’ll have you know,” he furiously whispered, “that I am so sexy that this is what they all assumed I was for. I’m so sexy that I’m apparently a Class Seven-slash-Theta-Grape Escort, according to the colour of my tie. I am, as a matter of fact, too sexy for my shirt.”
“Hello!” the Doctor called to her as she entered the room. He gave her a little wave from where he sat amidst a pile of cushions, his legs outstretched and bare except for where his trousers were bunched around his ankles. The only thing preserving his modesty - the only thing he was actually still wearing - was his shirt, his red tie through the collar like a draping scarf.
Her eyes wide, her mouth mutely open, Rose waved back. One minute, she’d been trying to track down where a certain confiscated Time Lord had been confiscated to, and the next, she was being escorted - properly escorted, not arrested-escorted, by two very polite reptilians - to this place. The TARDIS hadn’t been able to translate the exact name of it, but from the looks of things, it was a people pound. Her escorts had kept calling her “Dame Rose,” a clear hint from the Doctor if she’d ever heard one, but walking in here had still been nerve-wracking.
She heard the door snick shut behind her and tried not to jump at it. Movement of air near her skirt wasn’t remotely what she needed right now. “How comes your trousers are down?”
It wasn’t the question she had tried to ask and when the Doctor looked at her somewhat blankly, she wasn’t sure she’d even gotten that out right. He didn’t even have on his suit coat and his shirt just covered his upper thighs: plenty of reasons to be distracted.
“Well,” he said, leaning back on his arms, practically lounging, “you have to properly claim me. A bit eager to leave, so I thought I’d get ready.” He gave her a small nod then, a lift of the chin that she almost mistook as a come-hither.
Whatever his body language was telling her to do, his eyes were shouting at her to look up behind his head, to look at... that. Security camera.
Oh god.
“Properly- What happened to the-” Can’t call it psychic paper - they’ll know we’re cheating. She paused, making herself calm down. More than one way she had to be calm, the Doctor half naked and looking like that and saying she had to- that. “What did you do with your documentation?”
“I only had the small one on me.” He held up his hands, made a shape with his fingers that was, yes, the size of the psychic paper. “Without the second form, I was only able to let them know I belonged to you. Sorry.”
Rose bit her lip. Hard. “So how about that second form, then?”
“Oh, that would take filing and records and all sorts of things. Rest assured, Dame Rose, I checked. While I’m aware of your distaste for viewed displays, this is the most expedient option. It’s merely a symbolic act.” He leaned back once more, trying to signal her with his eyes. Just do it, he told her silently. It’s all right, just come here.
Now chewing on her lip, Rose shuffled closer, all sorts of shy and trying not to show it. “I’ve never had to reclaim anyone before,” she said carefully, trying to explain her hesitancy to whatever audience was watching through that camera.
“May I take this moment to state my preference for you over your mother, Dame Rose?”
His eyes were bright, his grin impish, and she laughed despite herself. “You may.”
“May I have permission to demonstrate my knowledge of your preferences?” His eyebrows somehow twisted that, helped to form a small expression of distaste at the phrasing he’d adopted for his role. All the same, his eyes urged her to come closer and play along. He shifted a little bit, emphasizing his position. Not that he needed to.
How good at faking orgasms would she have to be to get them out of here? That’s what she wanted to know. She knew she had some skill in it from her time with Jimmy Stone, but to do that in front of the Doctor- to do that on top of the Doctor....
Rose stepped over his legs, standing with one foot on either side of him and feeling very glad that today had been a skirt day. A long skirt day, too, but with everything she was about to do, now wasn’t exactly the right time to be thinking about him getting a glimpse. Much bigger concerns at hand.
She knelt down, her knees beside his hips, but didn’t quite dare sit on his thighs, didn’t actually touch. No, she told herself. It wasn’t about daring: it was about having a plan.
She lifted her skirt a little, spread it so it covered his crotch
The Doctor’s lips quirked. “Dame Rose,” he said, his eyes once again glancing upwards, a reminder of that camera, “I believe you may be forgetting your knickers are still on.”
“What knickers?” she lied, dropping herself onto his lap with that layer still between them.
The Doctor moaned.
He moaned and his head snapped back, his neck in front of her face and suddenly begging to be licked. His hand left the soft floor, his arm grabbing her around the waist. He yanked her hard and close against-
He still had his pants on. What’s more, absolutely nothing was coming up there to greet her.
She shouldn’t have felt this insulted.
Grinding his hips up against hers like an empty promise, the Doctor’s hand found the back of her head, pulled her even closer. As her arms went around his shoulders, she felt his mouth at her ear.
“Move around a bit, make a few noises, and we’re gone,” he told her, somehow panting despite his clearly steady breathing. His chest rose and fell against hers in a slow rhythm that made no sense. Her breathing was going crazy and she wasn’t even.... Not all that....
It was impossible not to be aroused when he smelled this good.
She shimmied and he groaned. Her bum touched his cold thighs and she couldn’t stop herself from yelping. He laughed, a loud and smug “Ha!” that deserved immediate retribution.
Grinding down, she pulled his hair.
It was soft and strange and it tilted his head back as he let out a noise that wasn’t remotely smug. For that one instant, it was bizarrely, brilliantly perfect and she didn’t just mean his hair. This was the way her life worked, all weird and a bit horrible at times, but it was definitely the way her life worked. She was pretending to shag her best friend in a lost and found that dealt with sentient beings. While on candid camera.
And the Doctor was laughing. Deep throaty chuckles that ought to have left his mouth to end up in hers. That, again, was very much her life.
But, as people would have said if only they’d known: when life gives you frustrating aliens, tease them.
She pulled herself against him, her chest flush with his. “This what happens when you try to be sexy?” The side of her nose brushed against his sideburn.
“Try?” he sputtered. “Try?”
She closed her eyes, squeezing his hips between her thighs. “S’what I said.” Her forehead dropped onto his shoulder and she clung to him like he really was shagging her. This was going to be enough to fuel her fantasies for the rest of her life; she was already sure.
“I’ll have you know,” he furiously whispered, speeding up that completely uninterested pace and smelling so good, “that I am so sexy that this is what they all assumed I was for. I’m so sexy that I’m apparently a Class Seven-slash-Theta-Grape Escort, according to the colour of my tie. I am, as a matter of fact, too sexy for my shirt.”
She lifted her mouth to his ear, the left one, the one that was shaped just a little differently than ears normally were. “Then take it off,” she dared.
“My shirt?”
“If you’re too sexy for it,” she answered, then pulled his earlobe between her teeth. Sucked on it.
He groaned like he was coming then and there, his hips bucking up against her, the sound not matching the sensation. His hands held her waist, moving her with unbelievable coordination for a man who was all flirt and no follow-through. Her mouth fell from his ear to his neck as she imagined what this would be like if it were real. She needed to stop imagining the feeling - needed to stop feeling, period - or things would be getting noticeably damp down there, but she couldn’t stop. Her mouth was on his neck and his taste was on her tongue and all she wanted to do was continue.
“C’mon, your turn,” he urged like they were playing a game, and it was such an abrupt change that she faltered in the rhythm he’d set, her hips stalling between his hands. He pulled her out of stillness, guiding her movements with his fingers pressing through her skirt. No more fake thrusting anymore. Now it was all circling hips, mimicking intimacy instead of need. She could feel him now, could distinctly make him out beneath her, an unresponsive, uninterested piece of Time Lord.
She pulled her mouth from his neck, returned to his ear so they were cheek to cheek. “You make it sound like we’re playing checkers.” She tried and failed to not sound as aroused as she was. It wasn’t fair, how one-sided this was.
“Playing something like that, aren’t we?” And then the alien bastard somehow managed to suck on her earlobe while asking, “Can you try for breathier?”
Rose made some sort of noise that loosely translated to yes.
“Oh, that one was brilliant,” he told her, sounding pleased but not remotely randy.
“You want me to make porn noises for the camera?” He couldn’t.
He did. “Why not?” he asked, somehow sounding as innocent as a very sheltered child. “You’ve seen When Harry Met Sally. It’ll be fun.”
She had to pull back, couldn’t have this conversation pressed both crotch to crotch and chest to chest. His hands still holding her hips in place, her hands went to his shoulders. Her thumbs stroked the red of his undone tie over the white of his shirt. She tried to look him in the face but that, well. That didn’t work. That didn’t come close to working. It came close to other things. Like giving in and snogging him to within an inch of his life.
“Doctor....”
He shook his head, eyes bright, rubbing their noses together like a joke. “Unless you’re moaning it, I don’t want to hear it.”
There was only one thing she could do in response to that. She squeezed with her thighs and she rocked her hips against him; she buried a hand in his fantastic, thick hair and pulled his face to her neck; she threw her head back and moaned long and loud:
“Oh, god, Mickey...!”
The Doctor sputtered. She could feel him sputtering, feel the surprised, insulted breath on her neck. “What did you-”
“Don’t stop!” She cried it out as dramatically as she could. “More, Mickey, more!”
“Rose!” he protested, staring at her with such a horrified look that she nearly burst out laughing.
“So much, ahhh, fun...!”
With a bit of a glare, the Doctor dropped back, lying down on the cushions abruptly. Her hands on his shoulders, the sudden motion stole her balance and she wound up leaning on him, her elbows locked. The startled noise the shift pulled out of her wasn’t feigned.
His hands left her hips and shot to the buttons of his shirt, opening them from the top and heading rapidly downwards. She had no idea why that was the only layer he had today, but that wasn’t the question that needed answering right then.
“What are you-”
“Too sexy for this shirt, remember?” He raised his eyebrows at her and grinned like he really was about to do something to her.
“Far too sexy!” she confirmed but sat up straight on him anyway. She took an end of his tie in each hand and tried to pull him back up, though, needing to ask something.
He lifted himself up with the muscles of his stomach, coming to her with slightly wide eyes. Unable to look at him this close, she shut her eyes and pressed their foreheads together, one hand moving back into his hair.
“Rose?” he asked, his breath on her lips.
“Is it okay?” Her other hand moved to his chest, touched the edge of his half-open shirt. He didn’t reply, maybe not knowing what she meant, so she touched skin and chest hair and then he had to go and make one of those porn sounds right in her face. It didn’t help the way her hips wouldn’t stop moving with his. “Seriously,” she said, now a bit sad she’d had her eyes closed for that.
“It’s you,” he said, and he was serious. “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”
She kissed his nose.
He made a pleased noise, then another, as if he’d just remembered something or maybe just discovered something for the very first time. She giggled, adoring him for it. He asked, “Should we snog, d’you think?”
Yes.
Not like this. But they should.
“Nah,” she said like it wasn’t tearing her heart out. “I think you should lie back and think of TARDIS.”
“Fair enough,” he answered, going down when she pushed him. Grinning, his tie falling off him, he pulled her hands to the remaining buttons and made lewd faces at her. Any second now, he was going to call her on how wet her knickers were. He had to feel that.
“Such a tease,” she whispered, leaning over him, spreading the cloth open. His idea, she told herself, justifying it. The Doctor volunteering to be half-naked under her, all while being intentionally pornographic, just because he thought it was funny. Not a side of his sense of humour she’d seen before.
“Oh, I’m the tease,” he replied, then immediately proved her right when she set both hands on the skin of his chest, on the light dusting of hair across his skin. The way he sounded, the way he moved beneath her, it was exactly as if he wanted her, almost exactly except for the fact that he didn’t. His moan was as human as the muscles and bone beneath her fingers, as close to it in appearance. But rougher where he was smoother, his skin somehow soft without having enough give.
She surrendered herself to the situation, kept playing the Doctor’s game, taking his unwitting bribe and touching more of him than she’d ever thought she’d see. She almost hurt with wanting him, with needing him to touch her in return. The urge to abuse her role was immense, the mistress making demands of her property. She could make him say things, make him shout them, even if just in play.
He took the temptation out of her hands, started gasping her name with every touch of her hands or twist of her hips. He grabbed at her hands, stroked up her arms. It was impossible not to be touching him. She discovered that her splayed hand could fit over his chest wide enough to feel both hearts beating at once, to feel them, right against her fingers.
“That’s amazing.” The words left her mouth as she thought them, just barely censored. You’re amazing, she’d almost said.
At that, he began rutting up against her, hips bucking. She was bouncing on him, actually bouncing up and down like he was the most inappropriate amusement ride the universe had ever seen. But that was before his hands returned to her hips, before he started making these straining, half-pained noises. It was hard and guttural and when she moved her hand on him, he’d squeak, really squeak.
His back arching, he threw his head back against the cushions, his face screwed up as he groaned out one last time, and Rose broke into a fit of giggles.
Now that it was apparently over, her limbs felt all shaky and false and she more or less fell across his chest, a giggling heap, just hoping that would pass off as an orgasm to the less mammalian. And then the Doctor started laughing with her, his arms coming up to wrap around her back like he was exhausted. Definitely asking for a cuddle. She moved her legs, ignoring the way they hurt, and properly stretched out over him. With his shirt open, his trousers down and her skirt spread over them, they must have looked giddy from being shagged out.
They must have looked incredible.
Speaking of: “There’s no way you make that face when you come,” she told him, still giggling, very willing to stay as she was. She lifted up her head to look at his face once more, to grin at just the memory.
“Oi!” he protested, his laughter gone immediately. He peered at her, their faces so very close. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not poking fun, I’m just saying you’re not really cut out for the porno business,” she answered, sitting up despite those arms around her. If she gave into that, they’d be here all day. Or until however long it took for the Doctor to reach his cuddle limit - no telling there, really. He could be like a cat that way. “Pull your trousers up under my skirt, yeah?”
He looked at her blankly for a second before blinking. “Right. Yes. Gonna need to reach through your legs. That okay?”
“It’s you,” she said and shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
He frowned a little and there they went, being awkward despite making it a stupid game. There was more than a little shifting around to conceal his pants and then it was over with. She picked his tie up from the soft floor while he buttoned up his shirt. She looked down at the length of cloth while he tucked the shirt into his trousers.
It wasn’t fair, the way he still looked so naked. As soon as she could manage it, she was getting some alone time in the TARDIS and taking care of things.
There was a knock at the door and they both turned to it. “Time to go,” Rose announced, trying to break the silence between them.
“Yep,” he said, popping the “p” with his hands in his pockets. “Wouldn’t mind getting the rest of my clothes back, either. I love that coat. Did you know-”
“That Janis Joplin gave you that coat?” She smiled and rolled her eyes, unable to go with just one of the two.
“Yep,” he said and the door opened to reveal one of the men - Rose thought he was male - who had escorted Rose here in the first place.
The reptilian man made a noise that sounded more than a little like clearing a throat. “Dame Rose,” the man said, his scales turning a deep purple around his nose, “if you could simply claim your property and carry on your, ah, business elsewhere....” After that, even to the untrained eye, he looked at a loss for words.
So, as it happened, was Rose. “What?” she asked.
The man pointed to the tie in her hands. He pointed at the Doctor.
The connection was made in Rose’s head. “...You mean, just tie the thing on him.”
“Yes, Dame Rose.”
At that, she rounded on the more humanoid of the two aliens in the room.
The Doctor’s eyes were wide. “But- They said-” She cleared her throat and he stopped talking.
Glaring at him, Rose popped up his collar, draped the red tie around his neck and hastily tied it the way one of her mum’s boyfriends had shown her how to. She put his collar back down and turned to the reptilian man. “Sorry,” she said. “He gets things wrong.”
“In most societies in this sector,” the Doctor protested, “that is how you go about it. Take away half a man’s clothing and call him a concubine needing claiming and what do you think he’ll assume?”
“A new acquisition?” the man asked her and Rose nodded, sighing a little.
“He’s a bit thick, but I like him anyway,” she replied. She looked at the Time Lord who was legally hers for the rest of their time here and somehow, just somehow, wound up smiling. He smiled back. She giggled once more, then took the Doctor’s tie in hand.
“C’mon, Mickey,” she said, grinning at the face he made, “let’s get your coat back.”
Rating: NC17
Wordcount: 3.5k
Warnings: Explicit naughty things
Beta: vyctori
Disclaimer: Do not own.
Summary: “I’ll have you know,” he furiously whispered, “that I am so sexy that this is what they all assumed I was for. I’m so sexy that I’m apparently a Class Seven-slash-Theta-Grape Escort, according to the colour of my tie. I am, as a matter of fact, too sexy for my shirt.”
“Hello!” the Doctor called to her as she entered the room. He gave her a little wave from where he sat amidst a pile of cushions, his legs outstretched and bare except for where his trousers were bunched around his ankles. The only thing preserving his modesty - the only thing he was actually still wearing - was his shirt, his red tie through the collar like a draping scarf.
Her eyes wide, her mouth mutely open, Rose waved back. One minute, she’d been trying to track down where a certain confiscated Time Lord had been confiscated to, and the next, she was being escorted - properly escorted, not arrested-escorted, by two very polite reptilians - to this place. The TARDIS hadn’t been able to translate the exact name of it, but from the looks of things, it was a people pound. Her escorts had kept calling her “Dame Rose,” a clear hint from the Doctor if she’d ever heard one, but walking in here had still been nerve-wracking.
She heard the door snick shut behind her and tried not to jump at it. Movement of air near her skirt wasn’t remotely what she needed right now. “How comes your trousers are down?”
It wasn’t the question she had tried to ask and when the Doctor looked at her somewhat blankly, she wasn’t sure she’d even gotten that out right. He didn’t even have on his suit coat and his shirt just covered his upper thighs: plenty of reasons to be distracted.
“Well,” he said, leaning back on his arms, practically lounging, “you have to properly claim me. A bit eager to leave, so I thought I’d get ready.” He gave her a small nod then, a lift of the chin that she almost mistook as a come-hither.
Whatever his body language was telling her to do, his eyes were shouting at her to look up behind his head, to look at... that. Security camera.
Oh god.
“Properly- What happened to the-” Can’t call it psychic paper - they’ll know we’re cheating. She paused, making herself calm down. More than one way she had to be calm, the Doctor half naked and looking like that and saying she had to- that. “What did you do with your documentation?”
“I only had the small one on me.” He held up his hands, made a shape with his fingers that was, yes, the size of the psychic paper. “Without the second form, I was only able to let them know I belonged to you. Sorry.”
Rose bit her lip. Hard. “So how about that second form, then?”
“Oh, that would take filing and records and all sorts of things. Rest assured, Dame Rose, I checked. While I’m aware of your distaste for viewed displays, this is the most expedient option. It’s merely a symbolic act.” He leaned back once more, trying to signal her with his eyes. Just do it, he told her silently. It’s all right, just come here.
Now chewing on her lip, Rose shuffled closer, all sorts of shy and trying not to show it. “I’ve never had to reclaim anyone before,” she said carefully, trying to explain her hesitancy to whatever audience was watching through that camera.
“May I take this moment to state my preference for you over your mother, Dame Rose?”
His eyes were bright, his grin impish, and she laughed despite herself. “You may.”
“May I have permission to demonstrate my knowledge of your preferences?” His eyebrows somehow twisted that, helped to form a small expression of distaste at the phrasing he’d adopted for his role. All the same, his eyes urged her to come closer and play along. He shifted a little bit, emphasizing his position. Not that he needed to.
How good at faking orgasms would she have to be to get them out of here? That’s what she wanted to know. She knew she had some skill in it from her time with Jimmy Stone, but to do that in front of the Doctor- to do that on top of the Doctor....
Rose stepped over his legs, standing with one foot on either side of him and feeling very glad that today had been a skirt day. A long skirt day, too, but with everything she was about to do, now wasn’t exactly the right time to be thinking about him getting a glimpse. Much bigger concerns at hand.
She knelt down, her knees beside his hips, but didn’t quite dare sit on his thighs, didn’t actually touch. No, she told herself. It wasn’t about daring: it was about having a plan.
She lifted her skirt a little, spread it so it covered his crotch
The Doctor’s lips quirked. “Dame Rose,” he said, his eyes once again glancing upwards, a reminder of that camera, “I believe you may be forgetting your knickers are still on.”
“What knickers?” she lied, dropping herself onto his lap with that layer still between them.
The Doctor moaned.
He moaned and his head snapped back, his neck in front of her face and suddenly begging to be licked. His hand left the soft floor, his arm grabbing her around the waist. He yanked her hard and close against-
He still had his pants on. What’s more, absolutely nothing was coming up there to greet her.
She shouldn’t have felt this insulted.
Grinding his hips up against hers like an empty promise, the Doctor’s hand found the back of her head, pulled her even closer. As her arms went around his shoulders, she felt his mouth at her ear.
“Move around a bit, make a few noises, and we’re gone,” he told her, somehow panting despite his clearly steady breathing. His chest rose and fell against hers in a slow rhythm that made no sense. Her breathing was going crazy and she wasn’t even.... Not all that....
It was impossible not to be aroused when he smelled this good.
She shimmied and he groaned. Her bum touched his cold thighs and she couldn’t stop herself from yelping. He laughed, a loud and smug “Ha!” that deserved immediate retribution.
Grinding down, she pulled his hair.
It was soft and strange and it tilted his head back as he let out a noise that wasn’t remotely smug. For that one instant, it was bizarrely, brilliantly perfect and she didn’t just mean his hair. This was the way her life worked, all weird and a bit horrible at times, but it was definitely the way her life worked. She was pretending to shag her best friend in a lost and found that dealt with sentient beings. While on candid camera.
And the Doctor was laughing. Deep throaty chuckles that ought to have left his mouth to end up in hers. That, again, was very much her life.
But, as people would have said if only they’d known: when life gives you frustrating aliens, tease them.
She pulled herself against him, her chest flush with his. “This what happens when you try to be sexy?” The side of her nose brushed against his sideburn.
“Try?” he sputtered. “Try?”
She closed her eyes, squeezing his hips between her thighs. “S’what I said.” Her forehead dropped onto his shoulder and she clung to him like he really was shagging her. This was going to be enough to fuel her fantasies for the rest of her life; she was already sure.
“I’ll have you know,” he furiously whispered, speeding up that completely uninterested pace and smelling so good, “that I am so sexy that this is what they all assumed I was for. I’m so sexy that I’m apparently a Class Seven-slash-Theta-Grape Escort, according to the colour of my tie. I am, as a matter of fact, too sexy for my shirt.”
She lifted her mouth to his ear, the left one, the one that was shaped just a little differently than ears normally were. “Then take it off,” she dared.
“My shirt?”
“If you’re too sexy for it,” she answered, then pulled his earlobe between her teeth. Sucked on it.
He groaned like he was coming then and there, his hips bucking up against her, the sound not matching the sensation. His hands held her waist, moving her with unbelievable coordination for a man who was all flirt and no follow-through. Her mouth fell from his ear to his neck as she imagined what this would be like if it were real. She needed to stop imagining the feeling - needed to stop feeling, period - or things would be getting noticeably damp down there, but she couldn’t stop. Her mouth was on his neck and his taste was on her tongue and all she wanted to do was continue.
“C’mon, your turn,” he urged like they were playing a game, and it was such an abrupt change that she faltered in the rhythm he’d set, her hips stalling between his hands. He pulled her out of stillness, guiding her movements with his fingers pressing through her skirt. No more fake thrusting anymore. Now it was all circling hips, mimicking intimacy instead of need. She could feel him now, could distinctly make him out beneath her, an unresponsive, uninterested piece of Time Lord.
She pulled her mouth from his neck, returned to his ear so they were cheek to cheek. “You make it sound like we’re playing checkers.” She tried and failed to not sound as aroused as she was. It wasn’t fair, how one-sided this was.
“Playing something like that, aren’t we?” And then the alien bastard somehow managed to suck on her earlobe while asking, “Can you try for breathier?”
Rose made some sort of noise that loosely translated to yes.
“Oh, that one was brilliant,” he told her, sounding pleased but not remotely randy.
“You want me to make porn noises for the camera?” He couldn’t.
He did. “Why not?” he asked, somehow sounding as innocent as a very sheltered child. “You’ve seen When Harry Met Sally. It’ll be fun.”
She had to pull back, couldn’t have this conversation pressed both crotch to crotch and chest to chest. His hands still holding her hips in place, her hands went to his shoulders. Her thumbs stroked the red of his undone tie over the white of his shirt. She tried to look him in the face but that, well. That didn’t work. That didn’t come close to working. It came close to other things. Like giving in and snogging him to within an inch of his life.
“Doctor....”
He shook his head, eyes bright, rubbing their noses together like a joke. “Unless you’re moaning it, I don’t want to hear it.”
There was only one thing she could do in response to that. She squeezed with her thighs and she rocked her hips against him; she buried a hand in his fantastic, thick hair and pulled his face to her neck; she threw her head back and moaned long and loud:
“Oh, god, Mickey...!”
The Doctor sputtered. She could feel him sputtering, feel the surprised, insulted breath on her neck. “What did you-”
“Don’t stop!” She cried it out as dramatically as she could. “More, Mickey, more!”
“Rose!” he protested, staring at her with such a horrified look that she nearly burst out laughing.
“So much, ahhh, fun...!”
With a bit of a glare, the Doctor dropped back, lying down on the cushions abruptly. Her hands on his shoulders, the sudden motion stole her balance and she wound up leaning on him, her elbows locked. The startled noise the shift pulled out of her wasn’t feigned.
His hands left her hips and shot to the buttons of his shirt, opening them from the top and heading rapidly downwards. She had no idea why that was the only layer he had today, but that wasn’t the question that needed answering right then.
“What are you-”
“Too sexy for this shirt, remember?” He raised his eyebrows at her and grinned like he really was about to do something to her.
“Far too sexy!” she confirmed but sat up straight on him anyway. She took an end of his tie in each hand and tried to pull him back up, though, needing to ask something.
He lifted himself up with the muscles of his stomach, coming to her with slightly wide eyes. Unable to look at him this close, she shut her eyes and pressed their foreheads together, one hand moving back into his hair.
“Rose?” he asked, his breath on her lips.
“Is it okay?” Her other hand moved to his chest, touched the edge of his half-open shirt. He didn’t reply, maybe not knowing what she meant, so she touched skin and chest hair and then he had to go and make one of those porn sounds right in her face. It didn’t help the way her hips wouldn’t stop moving with his. “Seriously,” she said, now a bit sad she’d had her eyes closed for that.
“It’s you,” he said, and he was serious. “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”
She kissed his nose.
He made a pleased noise, then another, as if he’d just remembered something or maybe just discovered something for the very first time. She giggled, adoring him for it. He asked, “Should we snog, d’you think?”
Yes.
Not like this. But they should.
“Nah,” she said like it wasn’t tearing her heart out. “I think you should lie back and think of TARDIS.”
“Fair enough,” he answered, going down when she pushed him. Grinning, his tie falling off him, he pulled her hands to the remaining buttons and made lewd faces at her. Any second now, he was going to call her on how wet her knickers were. He had to feel that.
“Such a tease,” she whispered, leaning over him, spreading the cloth open. His idea, she told herself, justifying it. The Doctor volunteering to be half-naked under her, all while being intentionally pornographic, just because he thought it was funny. Not a side of his sense of humour she’d seen before.
“Oh, I’m the tease,” he replied, then immediately proved her right when she set both hands on the skin of his chest, on the light dusting of hair across his skin. The way he sounded, the way he moved beneath her, it was exactly as if he wanted her, almost exactly except for the fact that he didn’t. His moan was as human as the muscles and bone beneath her fingers, as close to it in appearance. But rougher where he was smoother, his skin somehow soft without having enough give.
She surrendered herself to the situation, kept playing the Doctor’s game, taking his unwitting bribe and touching more of him than she’d ever thought she’d see. She almost hurt with wanting him, with needing him to touch her in return. The urge to abuse her role was immense, the mistress making demands of her property. She could make him say things, make him shout them, even if just in play.
He took the temptation out of her hands, started gasping her name with every touch of her hands or twist of her hips. He grabbed at her hands, stroked up her arms. It was impossible not to be touching him. She discovered that her splayed hand could fit over his chest wide enough to feel both hearts beating at once, to feel them, right against her fingers.
“That’s amazing.” The words left her mouth as she thought them, just barely censored. You’re amazing, she’d almost said.
At that, he began rutting up against her, hips bucking. She was bouncing on him, actually bouncing up and down like he was the most inappropriate amusement ride the universe had ever seen. But that was before his hands returned to her hips, before he started making these straining, half-pained noises. It was hard and guttural and when she moved her hand on him, he’d squeak, really squeak.
His back arching, he threw his head back against the cushions, his face screwed up as he groaned out one last time, and Rose broke into a fit of giggles.
Now that it was apparently over, her limbs felt all shaky and false and she more or less fell across his chest, a giggling heap, just hoping that would pass off as an orgasm to the less mammalian. And then the Doctor started laughing with her, his arms coming up to wrap around her back like he was exhausted. Definitely asking for a cuddle. She moved her legs, ignoring the way they hurt, and properly stretched out over him. With his shirt open, his trousers down and her skirt spread over them, they must have looked giddy from being shagged out.
They must have looked incredible.
Speaking of: “There’s no way you make that face when you come,” she told him, still giggling, very willing to stay as she was. She lifted up her head to look at his face once more, to grin at just the memory.
“Oi!” he protested, his laughter gone immediately. He peered at her, their faces so very close. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not poking fun, I’m just saying you’re not really cut out for the porno business,” she answered, sitting up despite those arms around her. If she gave into that, they’d be here all day. Or until however long it took for the Doctor to reach his cuddle limit - no telling there, really. He could be like a cat that way. “Pull your trousers up under my skirt, yeah?”
He looked at her blankly for a second before blinking. “Right. Yes. Gonna need to reach through your legs. That okay?”
“It’s you,” she said and shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
He frowned a little and there they went, being awkward despite making it a stupid game. There was more than a little shifting around to conceal his pants and then it was over with. She picked his tie up from the soft floor while he buttoned up his shirt. She looked down at the length of cloth while he tucked the shirt into his trousers.
It wasn’t fair, the way he still looked so naked. As soon as she could manage it, she was getting some alone time in the TARDIS and taking care of things.
There was a knock at the door and they both turned to it. “Time to go,” Rose announced, trying to break the silence between them.
“Yep,” he said, popping the “p” with his hands in his pockets. “Wouldn’t mind getting the rest of my clothes back, either. I love that coat. Did you know-”
“That Janis Joplin gave you that coat?” She smiled and rolled her eyes, unable to go with just one of the two.
“Yep,” he said and the door opened to reveal one of the men - Rose thought he was male - who had escorted Rose here in the first place.
The reptilian man made a noise that sounded more than a little like clearing a throat. “Dame Rose,” the man said, his scales turning a deep purple around his nose, “if you could simply claim your property and carry on your, ah, business elsewhere....” After that, even to the untrained eye, he looked at a loss for words.
So, as it happened, was Rose. “What?” she asked.
The man pointed to the tie in her hands. He pointed at the Doctor.
The connection was made in Rose’s head. “...You mean, just tie the thing on him.”
“Yes, Dame Rose.”
At that, she rounded on the more humanoid of the two aliens in the room.
The Doctor’s eyes were wide. “But- They said-” She cleared her throat and he stopped talking.
Glaring at him, Rose popped up his collar, draped the red tie around his neck and hastily tied it the way one of her mum’s boyfriends had shown her how to. She put his collar back down and turned to the reptilian man. “Sorry,” she said. “He gets things wrong.”
“In most societies in this sector,” the Doctor protested, “that is how you go about it. Take away half a man’s clothing and call him a concubine needing claiming and what do you think he’ll assume?”
“A new acquisition?” the man asked her and Rose nodded, sighing a little.
“He’s a bit thick, but I like him anyway,” she replied. She looked at the Time Lord who was legally hers for the rest of their time here and somehow, just somehow, wound up smiling. He smiled back. She giggled once more, then took the Doctor’s tie in hand.
“C’mon, Mickey,” she said, grinning at the face he made, “let’s get your coat back.”