(no subject)

Mar 02, 2008 10:11

Title: What's Mine is Yours.
Author: Iby.
Genre: fluff, romance, snogging whilst pressed up against things, which *is* a genre, thankyouverymuch.
Rating: PG-15.
Spoilers: Nope.
Author's Notes: Erm...I wrote this at four in the morning. I...well, I'm sorry!

Summary: Uncharacteristically shy, the Doctor comes up with a cunning plan on how best to ask Rose to move into his bedroom with him.



“I’d like you to move in with me.”

At this, Rose poured hot water onto the kitchen bench, a few centimetres shy of the cup into which it had been destined.  “Sorry?”  She carefully placed the kettle back on its coils so as to avoid any further accidents.

The Doctor, sat perfectly straight at the kitchen table, looked directly at her.  “I’d like you to move in with me.”  Struck by a sudden shyness, he blushed and became fascinated with a crack in the wood.  “You know,” he said, whilst running his thumb along the imperfection, “if you’d like.”  At this, he looked up her at her from beneath his mop of hair.

Rose, confused, looked up at the roof curiously to take in her surroundings.  Yes, she supposed the TARDIS wasn’t quite a sea-side cottage, and furthermore she got the impression that there were some pretty unusual rooms inside, but she’d always thought of it as her home.  It was something that she returned to when the day was done, something she slept in and brushed her teeth in.  Alongside the Doctor.

“Er, don’t we already live together in the TARDIS?”

The Doctor, who obviously hadn’t thought about things from this angle, beamed.  “Why, yes we do!”  Delighted, he rocked back on his chair so that it sat on only the rear legs.

Rose, as always, felt his happiness creep under her skin.  Whenever he smiled, that tender and affectionate smile that he reserved just for her, she couldn’t help but be happy that he was happy.  “So, if we already live together, how would I move in with you?”

With a click, the chair fell back to all four legs.  The Doctor bounced up and held a hand out to her.

Her tea a distant memory, Rose curled her fingers around his.

He took off at a run, as she’d thought he would, and before she could blink they’d arrived at the door to his bedroom.  She saw him hesitate, not from indecisiveness but nerves and squeezed his fingers comfortingly.

She still wasn’t sure what he was up to.  Rassilon knows, she’d spent many hours in his room.  When he slowly opened the door, her scattered belongings served only to reinforce this truth.  Especially the black bra that was haphazardly hooked over his dark blue velvet lamp.

Inexplicably embarrassed, she snuck over to the lamp, grabbed the bra and swiftly hid it behind a cushion on the armchair beside the bed.

Her covert operation finished, she turned to the Doctor.  He had his back to her and was inspecting his chest of drawers like they held the answers to the universe.  Which, Rose supposed, wasn’t entirely out of the question.

She came to stand beside him and inspected the chest also.  It was mahogany, a beautiful deep red that was emphasised by the polish.  There were five rows, split down the middle to create ten drawers and it came up to Rose’s shoulder.

“You’d move in by putting your clothes in here.”  With that, he slid the top drawer on the left side out.

It was empty.

He opened the second drawer.

It too was empty.

He worked all the way down to the bottom on the left side.  All five were empty.  He’d obviously cleared out his belongings to make room for her.

Shy as a schoolboy, he hid his face from her gaze and pointed at the bed.  “You like the left side of the bed, right?  You could bring in those funny pillows you have.  The really fluffy ones.”

Rose, who felt as if something extremely large and energetic had taken up residence in the spot where her heart usually lived, blinked quickly to stave off the need to cry.  “The ones with the frills?”

The Doctor sighed, but his grin betrayed its true nature.  “Yes, the ones with the frills, if you so desire.”

Rose laughed and then remembered that he’d asked her a question.  “Yes.”

The Doctor looked at her shoulder curiously.  “Yes?  Sorry?  What?”

“Yes, I like the left side of the bed.”

This seemed to bolster the Doctor’s confidence and before she knew what he was doing, he was bounding over to the en-suite.  “I cleared a little space in here too.  I don’t have much in the way of medicines.  I don’t exactly need eye-drops and blood pressure tablets, but there’s a little shelf where you can put your shampoo and tooth brush and…” he coughed awkwardly, “your, you know, hair brush.”

Typical.  He’d spent so long discussing the mating rituals of the Lentwok clans from Lentwerk the week before that she’d been sure that Jackie would take to him with a spatula, but he still couldn’t stumble over the word “tampons.”

Deciding to spare him, she grinned and beckoned him back into the room with a curled finger.

He ambled over to her, somewhat nervously.  “So?  What do you think?”

Rose felt her heart swell.  Even if she’d known the words that would best express how much she was in love with the idea, among other things, she couldn’t have voiced them for fear of making embarrassing noises.

An idea struck.  She smiled at him, held up a finger to request a second, ducked around him and came to the armchair that she’d hid her bra on.  Flinging the cushion onto the bed, she picked up the bra, folded it neatly and made her way back over to him and the open chest of drawers.

She held the bra up for him to see and then placed it neatly in the top drawer.  She adjusted the left strap, which had twisted slightly, then pushed the drawer shut.

He was snogging her in less than a second, pressing her against the chest on the closed right side.  One of the handles was digging into her hip but as his hands slipped underneath her blouse to brush her stomach and sides, she didn’t much care.  He slipped a knee between her thighs and pushed against her.

He’d just flung her shirt to the ground and was fiddling with the button on her jeans when he suddenly  pulled back, looking like he’d just had a brilliant idea.  His hair was flying every which way and his lips were red and shiny from her lipstick and tongue.

Rose moaned in protest and shuffled forward, seeking the pressure of his body against hers.  “What’re you doing?”

He bounced on his heels.  “Let’s go get them!”

Blinking rapidly to clear the fog in her mind, Rose shook her head.  “What?”

“Let’s go get your things!  You clothes and your books and your funny, frilly, fluffy pillows!  Funny, frilly, fluffy, trying say that fast ten times!”

Although Rose quite liked this idea, it wasn’t on the top of her list at that particular moment.  “Er, aren’t there other things we could be doing right now?’’  She cupped him lightly through the thin cotton of his trousers and grinned at both what she found there and the way his eyes fluttered shut at her touch.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

Rose loved it when he made her deals.

“Every time we bring a new type of clothing into the room, shirts, socks, jeans, underwear, we take off that piece of clothing.  So, when we start to bring in your shoes, we both take our shoes off. ”

Rose pretended to consider this for a few seconds before agreeing.  When she moved to make for the door, the Doctor curled his fingers around her wrist.  “Your bra is already in the chest of drawers.  That means that the one you’re wearing has to be taken off.  We really shouldn’t forget that, should we?.”

Grinning, Rose reached behind her to undo the clasp.  “No, we really shouldn't.”

rose tyler, rose/ten, the tenth doctor, doctor who fic

Previous post Next post
Up