That Time in Tne'
Rating:NC-17
Paring: Eleven/Rory
Word count: 3300
Summary: For a prompt on the kink meme: "The Doctor and Rory, handcuffed together."
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just let them out to play.
“Well, this is spectacular," Rory hissed under his breath. He melted further back against the wall of the alleyway, as if he could make himself smaller by force of will.
The Doctor ignored him, craning his head towards the street, wheezing a bit as tried to get his wind back after their narrow escape.
They’d been standing there for nearly a full minute after watching their pursuers thunder past, and Rory was finding it more and more suspicious that the Doctor, with his stupid superior respiratory system, was still having a hard time catching his breath.
“Are you alright? No, wait, are you laughing? Seriously?!”
“No, Rory, I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m really not.”
“Yes. You. Are,” Rory bit off each word. "In case you have completely lost your mind; let me remind you that we have both lost Amy and all sense of direction in this maze of a city and oh, yes, there’s this.” He brought his left hand up, dragging the Doctor’s right along with it. Silver handcuffs clanked between them as Rory shook them for emphasis.
“Mm, yes. Bit old fashioned aren’t they?” The Doctor reigned in his mirth and eyed the handcuffs in mock solemnity. “But then again, Tr’nach486 is an old fashioned planet in general, and they do love their handcuffs here in Tne’. Fascinating city, clinging to physically archaic traditions as though to offset their rapid advances in the mental sciences. Must be frightening, moving so far ahead of the rest of your own world but cut off from it for decades. I wish I...”
Rory shut him up with a sharp downward jerk of his arm. “Less talk, more sonic-ing.”
“Ow! Oh, very well,” The Doctor grumbled, patting himself down with his free hand. “You just should have seen the look on your face back there, Rory, like you really thought we were done for, it was, it was, oh, Rory.” He stopped digging around in his jacket and ruffled Rory’s sandy hair fondly, “you’re such a treasure, do you know that? Also, I’ve lost the sonic.”
Spectacular. Rory kept the thought to himself this time, banging the back of his head against the wall in frustration and grinding his teeth together. He closed his eyes and exhaled loudly through his nose.
“Fine. What now?” Getting angry with the Doctor never seemed to get anything done faster. Luckily Rory was skilled at keeping calm under tense - or in this case unnecessary and absurd - circumstances.
“No idea. What would you do if you and Amy were handcuffed together in an alleyway on Tr’nach486?”
“Well, we’d...wait, what?”
“Snogging, likely,” the Doctor helpfully filled in, his face just inches from Rory’s. “All that adrenaline, rushing around in your brain. Yes, I definitely think there would need to be some...release.”
Rory was acutely aware of both the cuffs linking his arm with the Doctor’s and his own already rapid heart rate increasing again. The Doctor wasn’t wrong about the adrenaline. Rory told himself it was just the thrill of danger, the after-effects of their narrow escape. He instinctively stepped back, the Doctor had no sense of personal space, as usual. But there wasn’t really anywhere to go, he only succeeded in dragging the Doctor along with him, so that their feet got tangled together and they ended up even closer than before.
“You know we can't navigate the city like this, we'd be caught in minutes." The Doctor glanced at the sky, “We need to wait until at least one of the suns is completely down. I’d say, twenty, maybe thirty minutes? That’s a long time just standing there, counting the bricks on the wall. Being bored. Have I mentioned how I hate being bored, Rory? I tend to just think out loud, it’s like I need to fill up the boring space with..."
“Oh, fuck it,” Rory grasped the Doctor’s hand and swung him around to face him before pushing him up against the opposite wall. “Anything is better than listening to you talk.”
With his free hand Rory reached up and ripped the Doctor’s shirt out of the waistband of his trousers. He slipped his hand under it, caressing the Doctor’s chest, lingering over his nipples, rolling them between his fingers, surprising himself by how much he wanted this, how satisfying it felt to have Doctor pinned down and at his mercy. He’d thought about it, hell, he’d wanked to it, always deciding it was best left in fantasy. But the reality was so, so, very much better. So natural and so damn good.
Rory growled into the Doctor’s mouth; lips, tongues, teeth clashed as they found the shape of each other, discovering how they best merged together, each hot breath charged with electricity and desire.
Unable to get his cuffed hand where he wanted it, he settled for grasping both of the Doctor’s hands and pinning them against the wall over his head, continuing his assault on the Doctor’s mouth, tongue probing, teeth nipping at his lip until the Doctor was grinding his erection against Rory’s, moaning into his mouth in frustration.
“Ngghh, this is all very frustrating,” he panted, when Rory finally let him up for air.
“You’re the one who lost the sonic. You could have both hands free right now.”
“If I hadn’t lost the sonic, we wouldn’t be, no, wait, never mind…”
There was a pause.
“Rory.”
“Yeah?” Rory pressed his tongue in little circles on the Doctor’s neck, enjoying how he shuddered underneath him, sliding farther down the wall with each caress, as if his legs could no longer support him. On an impulse he let go of the Doctor’s hand and deftly stripped off the bow-tie, letting it flutter to the ground. The top two buttons of the pink shirt followed and rolled somewhere down the alley as Rory worked his mouth over the Doctor’s long, exposed neck, sucking and biting and licking, drawing more helpless moans from the other man, who was still trying to say something.
“Rory.”
“Do you ever shut up?”
“I will, I promise. You can shut me up yourself. Think Rory, of what I can do without two hands.”
Seeing Rory’s hesitation, the Doctor pressed his mouth to Rory’s ear, flicking out his tongue to lick his earlobe. “I want to taste you,” he murmured. “I want you in my mouth, Rory. Please.”
The last little “please” was too much, Rory felt a thrill pulse through his whole body and then coalesce in his stomach, a pulsing, radiating sun of need. He shoved the Doctor away from him, his breathing ragged, and the two of them stared into each other’s eyes from a few feet away, manacled hands stretched between them.
A slow smile crept across Rory’s face and he glanced at the sky as if he didn’t have a raging hard on and was merely checking the position of the suns. The Doctor fidgeted like a horse at the end of a lead, unsure what direction to take.
“Right,” he looked back at the Doctor with a wicked glint in his eyes. “I reckon you’ve got about fifteen minutes left before it’s safe for us to go hunt down my wife, who you lost, and I’ve not quite forgiven you for, by the way, so let’s see what you can do to keep me from having to count bricks.”
He tugged the Doctor back over to him for a long, deep kiss, twining his hand in his hair, gripping just enough to hurt a little bit. This seemed to have the desired effect as the Doctor promptly dropped to his knees before him, a guttural moan ripping from his throat.
“Damn these things!” The handcuffs jerked Rory’s upper body down, leaving him at a most awkward and uncomfortable angle, his cock straining against his jeans, nowhere near where it needed to be, as the Doctor pressed his mouth to the inside of Rory’s thigh, biting blindly at his jeans, left hand reaching up to find Rory’s zipper.
“Come down here,” he said around a mouthful of fabric.
“What?”
Instead of repeating himself, the Doctor simply wrapped his hand around Rory’s rigid cock, which he’d managed to free with just one hand and his teeth. He was rather proud of this unusual display of dexterity but now probably wasn’t the time to point it out, as Rory was sinking to his knees in front of him, eyes closed and mouth open, pleasure etched into his features.
The handcuffs were still infuriatingly hindering as the Doctor tried to wrap an arm around Rory’s waist and only succeeded in drawing a hiss of pain from him.
“Fuck’s sake, you’re ripping my shoulder out of socket. Just leave it. Here,” he reached down and unbuttoned the Doctor’s trousers. “Keep doing what you’re doing. Please.” He groaned and dropped his head onto the Doctor’s shoulder, kissing his way over the red marks he’d left before leaving them to search out new places to leave a few more on his pale skin. And then the Doctor stopped doing what he was doing to do something slightly different and absolutely exquisite feeling with his hand.
“Oh. Oh, God…Doctor,” Rory’s breath was coming in short little gasps. He gave a brief thought to how embarrassingly, dangerously loud he was and raised his head to greedily bury his tongue in the Doctor’s mouth again. The taste, oh, God, he tasted like coming home. He wanted to stay their forever, just doing this.
But the Doctor released his grip on Rory and was insistently rubbing Rory’s hand over the bulge in his trousers, encouraging him to finish the job he’d started. Rory freed the Doctor from his constraints, eyes going wide at the throb of lust that shot through him as the Doctor's cock filled his hand, thick and soft. He traced his fingernails underneath, all the way to the head before gently wrapping his hand back around it, smiling a little at the Doctor’s murmured string of “Rory”s and “beautiful” and some other words he couldn’t understand but gathered were either pleas or curses.
He felt himself starting to lose control already and pulled his mouth away from the Doctor’s to look up at the lengthening shadows creeping across the wall. Ten minutes, maybe nine, before it would be safe to go get Amy. Amy. And oh, what he would do to her when he had her back…fuck, that line of thinking wasn’t helping and he cut it off before he had her fully undressed in his head. The desire for something hot and wet around his cock continued unabated and he remembered the Doctor’s offer.
“Hey,” he said softly, releasing his grip and wrapping his had in the Doctor’s hair instead, this time just to draw him in for a round of gentle kisses. “Thought you wanted something.”
The Doctor sighed into Rory’s mouth and traced his tongue slowly across Rory’s lower lip. “Oh, I do. Is it okay? Are you sure?”
In answer, Rory sat back against the wall they had started against, legs spread so the Doctor could crawl between them.
“I’m sure, he smiled. “And I’d rather enjoy the show than the feeling of gravel digging into my knees, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Don’t mind the gravel,” came the Doctor’s reply, the last of his sentence cut off as his mouth found Rory’s erection and slid over it with a happy whimper.
Having to keep one hand on the ground where they were linked together was maddening, Rory wanted to fist both his hands in the Doctor’s hair, to drag him back up for more kisses, then force him back down to thrust even further down his throat. There was something deliciously vulgar about this. Of all the ways he’d imagined finally getting up the nerve to do something about the tension that had been growing more and more obvious between them, he never thought he’d be sprawled in an alleyway, jeans halfway down his arse (which the gravel was digging into but never mind that) listening to the Doctor make noises like Rory’s cock was the was the best thing he’d ever had in his mouth in his very, very long life and oh, God that was turning Rory on, just knowing he could make the Doctor produce those blissful, desperate little sounds.
Rory leaned his head back and closed his eyes, let his mind stop wandering and his body take over, relishing the feel of the Doctor’s tongue running up and down his cock, circling around from top to bottom until all he could feel was that concentrated glow in his stomach moving lower and burning hotter until he was thrusting his hips up to meet the Doctor’s mouth, panting and eager, the words more more more running on repeat in his brain.
“What are you doing to me” he moaned “please, I need, I need…” he wasn’t quite sure what he needed but he knew that he wanted that heat spread through more of him somehow, needed to feel the Doctor’s weight on him, to taste him and smell him and touch him in return.
“Whatever you want Rory, just name it,” the Doctor pulled his mouth away and brought his face up to plant kisses under Rory’s chin, working his way up to his mouth again.
“I just want to touch you too.”
Somehow they managed, with almost no room between them, manacled hands resting cautiously on each others waists, free hands stroking each other off, slowly at first, then picking up speed as they fell into a rhythm, hips bucking, the Doctor kissing Rory until his lips felt bruised and he was the one whimpering and begging for release.
With a sudden sob Rory tore his mouth away from the Doctor’s and pressed it into his neck, trying to stifle his cries as he came all over the Doctor’s hand, his shirt, himself. He nearly stopped the motion of his right hand but the Doctor growled and nipped at his neck, thrusting insistently into Rory’s hand., now slick with semen. Rory rested his forehead on the Doctor’s shoulder, eyes downcast so he could watch as the quick, pumping motion of his hand pushed the Doctor over the edge and he too collapsed forward, biting at Rory’s shirt to keep quiet, semen spurting out to cover both of their hands, dripping down to the ground beneath them in a warm, sticky mess.
When his breathing slowed a bit, Rory traced his fingers along the underside of the Doctor’s length, smiling at the little moans and flinches it produced. He shifted slightly, adjusting just enough to be able to give the Doctor a chaste kiss on the check. He licked an earlobe, unable to stop himself from breathing an appreciative, “damn,” into his ear. The Doctor shivered and gave a muffled laugh, his teeth still clenched on the fabric of Rory’s shirt front.
“Are you laughing again? Because I thought that was pretty spectacular. I mean, really,” he punctuated his sentences with more little kisses to the Doctor’s forehead, cheek, ears, wherever he could reach, “really, spectacular.”
Both men groaned as they disentangled themselves and staggered to their feet, sore and pleasantly exhausted. Rory thought longingly about his soft, gravel-free bed on the TARDIS and how good it would feel to collapse in it, even if it meant dragging a sticky, handcuffed Doctor along with him but oh, right, must find Amy, then the TARDIS, then perhaps the cozy bed.
The Doctor was one step ahead of him, having wiped his hand somewhat clean on Rory’s jeans. (“Hey!”) But Rory shrugged and followed suit, tucking things away and re-buttoning as best he could while allowing himself to be dragged along for the retrieval of the ridiculous bow-tie.
“Okay! Your wife.” The Doctor pulled him in for one last kiss, threading the fingers of their manacled, but at least clean, hands together, before pulling away and clearing his throat.
“Yes. Amy.” Rory straightened up and a worried look crossed his face. “Should be plenty safe to go now, if we’re careful.”
One of the suns had indeed fully set, leaving just a dim amber glow from the other, which flickered pleasantly like candlelight, setting shadows to bouncing.
“No, Rory, your wife,” the Doctor repeated, adding in a stage whisper, “I think she’s fine.”
Rory turned, following the Doctor’s line of sight to find Amy standing just inside the alleyway, panting and holding her side, the candle-sun turning wisps of her hair into flames.
“Finally!" She stalked over to stand in front of them, frowning at the Doctor. “I lost the signal a little while ago and have been running from one end of this place to the other ever since. What the hell happened to this?” She held out her hand to reveal a round black ball with blinking green lights running over it in patterns. "It just homed back in on you a few minutes ago, good thing I wasn't far away."
Rory leaned forward to get a better look at the device resting on her palm and the handcuffs clinking together echoed off the walls of the alley.
Amy put one hand on his chest, stopping him. “What? Why? Oookay, does someone want to tell me what is going on here? Why are you two handcuffed together? I thought you’d gotten away safely. No, never mind, no time for talk. Doctor, give me the sonic. Honestly. Can’t let you two out of my sight.”
The Doctor pulled the sonic from his coat pocket, handing it over to Amy while gazing steadfastly over her head as though fascinated by the second sun of a planet he’s visited a dozen times.
Rory glared at him. “You had that, the whole time and, and…”
But then their hands were free and the handcuffs clattered to the ground, loudly. Too loudly. A shout came from somewhere very close by, accompanied straight away by the sound of feet pounding towards them. Amy grabbed Rory’s hand - oh, God, not that one - and they darted out of the alleyway, the Doctor right behind them.
“Someone,” Amy hissed over her shoulder, shaking off Rory’s hand and wiping her own on her denim skirt, “has a lot of explaining to do when we get back to the TARDIS.”
Rory kept his head down, concentrating very hard on the running, so he missed the mad grin on his wife’s face as she added, “in graphic detail.”
* * * * *
A/N The reference to Tne' loving their handcuffs is an homage to this beautiful Eleven/Amy fic. (It's just a brief mention in the 'hero' section.) Nothing porny at all but I stumbled on it while writing this and was utterly smitten so I thought I'd rec it.
Paring: Eleven/Rory
Word count: 3300
Summary: For a prompt on the kink meme: "The Doctor and Rory, handcuffed together."
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just let them out to play.
“Well, this is spectacular," Rory hissed under his breath. He melted further back against the wall of the alleyway, as if he could make himself smaller by force of will.
The Doctor ignored him, craning his head towards the street, wheezing a bit as tried to get his wind back after their narrow escape.
They’d been standing there for nearly a full minute after watching their pursuers thunder past, and Rory was finding it more and more suspicious that the Doctor, with his stupid superior respiratory system, was still having a hard time catching his breath.
“Are you alright? No, wait, are you laughing? Seriously?!”
“No, Rory, I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m really not.”
“Yes. You. Are,” Rory bit off each word. "In case you have completely lost your mind; let me remind you that we have both lost Amy and all sense of direction in this maze of a city and oh, yes, there’s this.” He brought his left hand up, dragging the Doctor’s right along with it. Silver handcuffs clanked between them as Rory shook them for emphasis.
“Mm, yes. Bit old fashioned aren’t they?” The Doctor reigned in his mirth and eyed the handcuffs in mock solemnity. “But then again, Tr’nach486 is an old fashioned planet in general, and they do love their handcuffs here in Tne’. Fascinating city, clinging to physically archaic traditions as though to offset their rapid advances in the mental sciences. Must be frightening, moving so far ahead of the rest of your own world but cut off from it for decades. I wish I...”
Rory shut him up with a sharp downward jerk of his arm. “Less talk, more sonic-ing.”
“Ow! Oh, very well,” The Doctor grumbled, patting himself down with his free hand. “You just should have seen the look on your face back there, Rory, like you really thought we were done for, it was, it was, oh, Rory.” He stopped digging around in his jacket and ruffled Rory’s sandy hair fondly, “you’re such a treasure, do you know that? Also, I’ve lost the sonic.”
Spectacular. Rory kept the thought to himself this time, banging the back of his head against the wall in frustration and grinding his teeth together. He closed his eyes and exhaled loudly through his nose.
“Fine. What now?” Getting angry with the Doctor never seemed to get anything done faster. Luckily Rory was skilled at keeping calm under tense - or in this case unnecessary and absurd - circumstances.
“No idea. What would you do if you and Amy were handcuffed together in an alleyway on Tr’nach486?”
“Well, we’d...wait, what?”
“Snogging, likely,” the Doctor helpfully filled in, his face just inches from Rory’s. “All that adrenaline, rushing around in your brain. Yes, I definitely think there would need to be some...release.”
Rory was acutely aware of both the cuffs linking his arm with the Doctor’s and his own already rapid heart rate increasing again. The Doctor wasn’t wrong about the adrenaline. Rory told himself it was just the thrill of danger, the after-effects of their narrow escape. He instinctively stepped back, the Doctor had no sense of personal space, as usual. But there wasn’t really anywhere to go, he only succeeded in dragging the Doctor along with him, so that their feet got tangled together and they ended up even closer than before.
“You know we can't navigate the city like this, we'd be caught in minutes." The Doctor glanced at the sky, “We need to wait until at least one of the suns is completely down. I’d say, twenty, maybe thirty minutes? That’s a long time just standing there, counting the bricks on the wall. Being bored. Have I mentioned how I hate being bored, Rory? I tend to just think out loud, it’s like I need to fill up the boring space with..."
“Oh, fuck it,” Rory grasped the Doctor’s hand and swung him around to face him before pushing him up against the opposite wall. “Anything is better than listening to you talk.”
With his free hand Rory reached up and ripped the Doctor’s shirt out of the waistband of his trousers. He slipped his hand under it, caressing the Doctor’s chest, lingering over his nipples, rolling them between his fingers, surprising himself by how much he wanted this, how satisfying it felt to have Doctor pinned down and at his mercy. He’d thought about it, hell, he’d wanked to it, always deciding it was best left in fantasy. But the reality was so, so, very much better. So natural and so damn good.
Rory growled into the Doctor’s mouth; lips, tongues, teeth clashed as they found the shape of each other, discovering how they best merged together, each hot breath charged with electricity and desire.
Unable to get his cuffed hand where he wanted it, he settled for grasping both of the Doctor’s hands and pinning them against the wall over his head, continuing his assault on the Doctor’s mouth, tongue probing, teeth nipping at his lip until the Doctor was grinding his erection against Rory’s, moaning into his mouth in frustration.
“Ngghh, this is all very frustrating,” he panted, when Rory finally let him up for air.
“You’re the one who lost the sonic. You could have both hands free right now.”
“If I hadn’t lost the sonic, we wouldn’t be, no, wait, never mind…”
There was a pause.
“Rory.”
“Yeah?” Rory pressed his tongue in little circles on the Doctor’s neck, enjoying how he shuddered underneath him, sliding farther down the wall with each caress, as if his legs could no longer support him. On an impulse he let go of the Doctor’s hand and deftly stripped off the bow-tie, letting it flutter to the ground. The top two buttons of the pink shirt followed and rolled somewhere down the alley as Rory worked his mouth over the Doctor’s long, exposed neck, sucking and biting and licking, drawing more helpless moans from the other man, who was still trying to say something.
“Rory.”
“Do you ever shut up?”
“I will, I promise. You can shut me up yourself. Think Rory, of what I can do without two hands.”
Seeing Rory’s hesitation, the Doctor pressed his mouth to Rory’s ear, flicking out his tongue to lick his earlobe. “I want to taste you,” he murmured. “I want you in my mouth, Rory. Please.”
The last little “please” was too much, Rory felt a thrill pulse through his whole body and then coalesce in his stomach, a pulsing, radiating sun of need. He shoved the Doctor away from him, his breathing ragged, and the two of them stared into each other’s eyes from a few feet away, manacled hands stretched between them.
A slow smile crept across Rory’s face and he glanced at the sky as if he didn’t have a raging hard on and was merely checking the position of the suns. The Doctor fidgeted like a horse at the end of a lead, unsure what direction to take.
“Right,” he looked back at the Doctor with a wicked glint in his eyes. “I reckon you’ve got about fifteen minutes left before it’s safe for us to go hunt down my wife, who you lost, and I’ve not quite forgiven you for, by the way, so let’s see what you can do to keep me from having to count bricks.”
He tugged the Doctor back over to him for a long, deep kiss, twining his hand in his hair, gripping just enough to hurt a little bit. This seemed to have the desired effect as the Doctor promptly dropped to his knees before him, a guttural moan ripping from his throat.
“Damn these things!” The handcuffs jerked Rory’s upper body down, leaving him at a most awkward and uncomfortable angle, his cock straining against his jeans, nowhere near where it needed to be, as the Doctor pressed his mouth to the inside of Rory’s thigh, biting blindly at his jeans, left hand reaching up to find Rory’s zipper.
“Come down here,” he said around a mouthful of fabric.
“What?”
Instead of repeating himself, the Doctor simply wrapped his hand around Rory’s rigid cock, which he’d managed to free with just one hand and his teeth. He was rather proud of this unusual display of dexterity but now probably wasn’t the time to point it out, as Rory was sinking to his knees in front of him, eyes closed and mouth open, pleasure etched into his features.
The handcuffs were still infuriatingly hindering as the Doctor tried to wrap an arm around Rory’s waist and only succeeded in drawing a hiss of pain from him.
“Fuck’s sake, you’re ripping my shoulder out of socket. Just leave it. Here,” he reached down and unbuttoned the Doctor’s trousers. “Keep doing what you’re doing. Please.” He groaned and dropped his head onto the Doctor’s shoulder, kissing his way over the red marks he’d left before leaving them to search out new places to leave a few more on his pale skin. And then the Doctor stopped doing what he was doing to do something slightly different and absolutely exquisite feeling with his hand.
“Oh. Oh, God…Doctor,” Rory’s breath was coming in short little gasps. He gave a brief thought to how embarrassingly, dangerously loud he was and raised his head to greedily bury his tongue in the Doctor’s mouth again. The taste, oh, God, he tasted like coming home. He wanted to stay their forever, just doing this.
But the Doctor released his grip on Rory and was insistently rubbing Rory’s hand over the bulge in his trousers, encouraging him to finish the job he’d started. Rory freed the Doctor from his constraints, eyes going wide at the throb of lust that shot through him as the Doctor's cock filled his hand, thick and soft. He traced his fingernails underneath, all the way to the head before gently wrapping his hand back around it, smiling a little at the Doctor’s murmured string of “Rory”s and “beautiful” and some other words he couldn’t understand but gathered were either pleas or curses.
He felt himself starting to lose control already and pulled his mouth away from the Doctor’s to look up at the lengthening shadows creeping across the wall. Ten minutes, maybe nine, before it would be safe to go get Amy. Amy. And oh, what he would do to her when he had her back…fuck, that line of thinking wasn’t helping and he cut it off before he had her fully undressed in his head. The desire for something hot and wet around his cock continued unabated and he remembered the Doctor’s offer.
“Hey,” he said softly, releasing his grip and wrapping his had in the Doctor’s hair instead, this time just to draw him in for a round of gentle kisses. “Thought you wanted something.”
The Doctor sighed into Rory’s mouth and traced his tongue slowly across Rory’s lower lip. “Oh, I do. Is it okay? Are you sure?”
In answer, Rory sat back against the wall they had started against, legs spread so the Doctor could crawl between them.
“I’m sure, he smiled. “And I’d rather enjoy the show than the feeling of gravel digging into my knees, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Don’t mind the gravel,” came the Doctor’s reply, the last of his sentence cut off as his mouth found Rory’s erection and slid over it with a happy whimper.
Having to keep one hand on the ground where they were linked together was maddening, Rory wanted to fist both his hands in the Doctor’s hair, to drag him back up for more kisses, then force him back down to thrust even further down his throat. There was something deliciously vulgar about this. Of all the ways he’d imagined finally getting up the nerve to do something about the tension that had been growing more and more obvious between them, he never thought he’d be sprawled in an alleyway, jeans halfway down his arse (which the gravel was digging into but never mind that) listening to the Doctor make noises like Rory’s cock was the was the best thing he’d ever had in his mouth in his very, very long life and oh, God that was turning Rory on, just knowing he could make the Doctor produce those blissful, desperate little sounds.
Rory leaned his head back and closed his eyes, let his mind stop wandering and his body take over, relishing the feel of the Doctor’s tongue running up and down his cock, circling around from top to bottom until all he could feel was that concentrated glow in his stomach moving lower and burning hotter until he was thrusting his hips up to meet the Doctor’s mouth, panting and eager, the words more more more running on repeat in his brain.
“What are you doing to me” he moaned “please, I need, I need…” he wasn’t quite sure what he needed but he knew that he wanted that heat spread through more of him somehow, needed to feel the Doctor’s weight on him, to taste him and smell him and touch him in return.
“Whatever you want Rory, just name it,” the Doctor pulled his mouth away and brought his face up to plant kisses under Rory’s chin, working his way up to his mouth again.
“I just want to touch you too.”
Somehow they managed, with almost no room between them, manacled hands resting cautiously on each others waists, free hands stroking each other off, slowly at first, then picking up speed as they fell into a rhythm, hips bucking, the Doctor kissing Rory until his lips felt bruised and he was the one whimpering and begging for release.
With a sudden sob Rory tore his mouth away from the Doctor’s and pressed it into his neck, trying to stifle his cries as he came all over the Doctor’s hand, his shirt, himself. He nearly stopped the motion of his right hand but the Doctor growled and nipped at his neck, thrusting insistently into Rory’s hand., now slick with semen. Rory rested his forehead on the Doctor’s shoulder, eyes downcast so he could watch as the quick, pumping motion of his hand pushed the Doctor over the edge and he too collapsed forward, biting at Rory’s shirt to keep quiet, semen spurting out to cover both of their hands, dripping down to the ground beneath them in a warm, sticky mess.
When his breathing slowed a bit, Rory traced his fingers along the underside of the Doctor’s length, smiling at the little moans and flinches it produced. He shifted slightly, adjusting just enough to be able to give the Doctor a chaste kiss on the check. He licked an earlobe, unable to stop himself from breathing an appreciative, “damn,” into his ear. The Doctor shivered and gave a muffled laugh, his teeth still clenched on the fabric of Rory’s shirt front.
“Are you laughing again? Because I thought that was pretty spectacular. I mean, really,” he punctuated his sentences with more little kisses to the Doctor’s forehead, cheek, ears, wherever he could reach, “really, spectacular.”
Both men groaned as they disentangled themselves and staggered to their feet, sore and pleasantly exhausted. Rory thought longingly about his soft, gravel-free bed on the TARDIS and how good it would feel to collapse in it, even if it meant dragging a sticky, handcuffed Doctor along with him but oh, right, must find Amy, then the TARDIS, then perhaps the cozy bed.
The Doctor was one step ahead of him, having wiped his hand somewhat clean on Rory’s jeans. (“Hey!”) But Rory shrugged and followed suit, tucking things away and re-buttoning as best he could while allowing himself to be dragged along for the retrieval of the ridiculous bow-tie.
“Okay! Your wife.” The Doctor pulled him in for one last kiss, threading the fingers of their manacled, but at least clean, hands together, before pulling away and clearing his throat.
“Yes. Amy.” Rory straightened up and a worried look crossed his face. “Should be plenty safe to go now, if we’re careful.”
One of the suns had indeed fully set, leaving just a dim amber glow from the other, which flickered pleasantly like candlelight, setting shadows to bouncing.
“No, Rory, your wife,” the Doctor repeated, adding in a stage whisper, “I think she’s fine.”
Rory turned, following the Doctor’s line of sight to find Amy standing just inside the alleyway, panting and holding her side, the candle-sun turning wisps of her hair into flames.
“Finally!" She stalked over to stand in front of them, frowning at the Doctor. “I lost the signal a little while ago and have been running from one end of this place to the other ever since. What the hell happened to this?” She held out her hand to reveal a round black ball with blinking green lights running over it in patterns. "It just homed back in on you a few minutes ago, good thing I wasn't far away."
Rory leaned forward to get a better look at the device resting on her palm and the handcuffs clinking together echoed off the walls of the alley.
Amy put one hand on his chest, stopping him. “What? Why? Oookay, does someone want to tell me what is going on here? Why are you two handcuffed together? I thought you’d gotten away safely. No, never mind, no time for talk. Doctor, give me the sonic. Honestly. Can’t let you two out of my sight.”
The Doctor pulled the sonic from his coat pocket, handing it over to Amy while gazing steadfastly over her head as though fascinated by the second sun of a planet he’s visited a dozen times.
Rory glared at him. “You had that, the whole time and, and…”
But then their hands were free and the handcuffs clattered to the ground, loudly. Too loudly. A shout came from somewhere very close by, accompanied straight away by the sound of feet pounding towards them. Amy grabbed Rory’s hand - oh, God, not that one - and they darted out of the alleyway, the Doctor right behind them.
“Someone,” Amy hissed over her shoulder, shaking off Rory’s hand and wiping her own on her denim skirt, “has a lot of explaining to do when we get back to the TARDIS.”
Rory kept his head down, concentrating very hard on the running, so he missed the mad grin on his wife’s face as she added, “in graphic detail.”
* * * * *
A/N The reference to Tne' loving their handcuffs is an homage to this beautiful Eleven/Amy fic. (It's just a brief mention in the 'hero' section.) Nothing porny at all but I stumbled on it while writing this and was utterly smitten so I thought I'd rec it.