rec: heat
Story: Heat
Author: Nostalgia
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 997
Author's Summary: Ten, Romana, and some alien biology
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Romana, Martha
Warnings: None
Recced because: This is a story about my OTP having hot alien sex, so naturally I'm a bit biased in its favour. But it's rare to find a fic that so embraces the alienness of the Doctor and Romana. In the restaurant, he licks dripped wine from her wrist and they pretend that they can't speak any language but their own. She and the words taste of home, and his blood rushes to answer hers. They edge closer until denial becomes pointless and her fingers work his tie off before the food arrives.
"Heat" is almost unbearably short; every time I read it, I get to the end gasping for more. In the aftermath of the Time War, Gallifreyan biology has become a visceral force, from the cellular level outwards. This is essentially a series of vignettes divided by interruptions: dialogue, meta about Time Lord sexuality, the speculation of nameless outsiders. Deceptively simple, unbearably powerful. They lose track of casuality, play with time simply because they can. He touches her skin with an echo, teases her with three seconds into the future. They spend eternity in a telepathic feedback loop and she slithers, quantum, over him. I'll freely admit that I'm jealous, because a story this complex should be nearly impossible to write, and Nostalgia makes it look easy. But it's the reader who wins out; I just read this twice more, preparing my rec, and my admiration has only increased.
Author: Nostalgia
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 997
Author's Summary: Ten, Romana, and some alien biology
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Romana, Martha
Warnings: None
Recced because: This is a story about my OTP having hot alien sex, so naturally I'm a bit biased in its favour. But it's rare to find a fic that so embraces the alienness of the Doctor and Romana. In the restaurant, he licks dripped wine from her wrist and they pretend that they can't speak any language but their own. She and the words taste of home, and his blood rushes to answer hers. They edge closer until denial becomes pointless and her fingers work his tie off before the food arrives.
"Heat" is almost unbearably short; every time I read it, I get to the end gasping for more. In the aftermath of the Time War, Gallifreyan biology has become a visceral force, from the cellular level outwards. This is essentially a series of vignettes divided by interruptions: dialogue, meta about Time Lord sexuality, the speculation of nameless outsiders. Deceptively simple, unbearably powerful. They lose track of casuality, play with time simply because they can. He touches her skin with an echo, teases her with three seconds into the future. They spend eternity in a telepathic feedback loop and she slithers, quantum, over him. I'll freely admit that I'm jealous, because a story this complex should be nearly impossible to write, and Nostalgia makes it look easy. But it's the reader who wins out; I just read this twice more, preparing my rec, and my admiration has only increased.