Fic: Staying the Storm (1/1)
Title: Staying the Storm
Author: karenor
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: Hard R (There be smut.)
Summary: What had him so frightened that he’d willingly tip-toe over a line that had been so carefully drawn between them?
Disclaimer: BBC owns all. Including my soul. I'd like it back one day, please. Maybe.
Author's Notes: This begins shortly after "Fear Her" ends. Say, later that night. Thanks to my beta, dettiot.
“Rose, you sure you’re all right?”
He nudged her and she stirred more awake.
“Told you, I’m fine. Why?”
“Well you’re nearly asleep and you haven’t kicked me out of your bed yet, or complained once about my cold feet.” He ran his bare foot against her calf in emphasis.
She was fully awake now and swatted his shoulder lightly in complaint.
“Maybe…” she ventured, “Maybe I don’t want you to go tonight.”
“Rose-” he started, but wasn’t sure how to continue. What she was suggesting was a breach of their unspoken protocol. Many a night on the TARDIS, especially after rough adventures, he would stay with her. They would take comfort in each other’s presence, and he would blather on about some random topic until she got sleepy, then say goodnight and leave her to her rest.
Rose sat up in bed, back up against the headboard, her gaze fixed across the room. “It’s just… I thought I’d lost you today.”
“You didn’t, though. We had cake, watched the games, saw fireworks. Everyone lived. It all turned out okay, Rose.”
“Then you said there was a storm coming.”
Right, that. Not that he’d forgotten what he’d said. He was hoping maybe she had, though.
“Yes, enigmatic that.” He pondered for a minute. “But it doesn’t mean anything. Not yet. Not until…. Well, not until I know what it means.”
“That’s comforting.” She blew out a huffed breath.
He sat up as well and faced her. He reached out his fingers to lightly touch her cheek, silently commanding that she look at him. His kept his tone gentle when he spoke again. “And me staying here tonight, that would be more… comforting?”
A blush stole over Rose’s cheeks. There was heavy implication in the suddenly tense air between them.
“Yes,” she answered simply.
He regarded her for a long moment.
“All right,” he finally said, pushing away the covers and bounding from the bed.
Rose’s eyes widened as he hastily removed his shirt and tossed it on a nearby chair. Given how she usually saw him, he supposed just a t-shirt and trousers was practically naked.
“What? Can’t very well sleep in my clothes. Well, I could, sure, but they get all wrinkly and bunched up in the most uncomfortable configurations.”
Rose said nothing; only swallowed heavily as he reached for his trousers.
“Interesting thing, the sleepwear habits across humanoid cultures,” he said, undoing them and pushing them past his hips. “Did you know that the Sitreborites of the moon off of Sitre 9, which is a lovely planet by the way, the moon, not so much, which might account for the-”
Rose slid under the covers with a groan, turning her back to him.
“Oh, sorry, not interested in the Sitreborites?” He tapped off Rose’s bedside lamp, slid back into her bed and spooned up to her back with a sigh of contentment. Rose was warm and soft, and being this close to her was indeed quite comforting. He felt he could really fall asleep with her for once. And it wouldn’t do any harm to just rest here for a while.
>>
“Just tired,” she mumbled into her pillow as his arm came around her. What she was, was just thankful that he’d stopped shedding clothes when he did. Or else she’d have an even harder time concealing the flush that stole over her body at the sight of him undressing. But he was safely covered in underclothes and clearly had no interest in either of them wearing less.
But considering how easily he gave in to her request to stay the night, and how intimately he was holding her now, she imagined he might need the reassurance of a warm body close to him as well. Though, of course, he’d never admit to that.
She tried not to think about what had him so frightened that he’d willingly tip-toe over a line that had been so carefully drawn between them. And of course, even if he knew what was approaching, he probably wouldn’t say. He’d avoid the issue; change the subject to spare her having to be troubled by it too. It’s what he always did, withholding important information that he thought might upset her, preferring to shoulder the worry all on his own.
She’d bet that right now he was regretting ever uttering that ominous phrase in her presence. And tomorrow? Tomorrow he’d pretend it never happened and things would go back to normal.
For tonight though, they could be this close, at least. He’d give her that, and she’d return the favour.
So she willed her heart to slow its still frantic pace and take this comfort the Doctor offered and not be worried about what other comforts she wanted from him.
She soon heard his breathing settle into a slow, regular rhythm and realized that he’d fallen asleep. Letting herself completely relax again, she quickly drifted off as well.
* * *
When the Doctor next opened his eyes, two hours had passed. Rose was peacefully asleep next to him, he observed. They’d shifted position in sleep and were now both on their sides, facing toward each other, only inches apart.
He slid a hand absently to the lamp, raising the lights to a candle-like glow, and observed her silently, looking his fill. She was so beautiful in sleep. The worry that she had tried to hide all evening was gone from her calm face. He mentally kicked himself for the hundredth time since they’d returned to the TARDIS for putting that worry there. Why’d he open his mouth and tell her about the storm?
He wasn’t really sure, either, why he’d acceded to her request earlier when it had always seemed a bad idea in the past. Oh, that wasn’t true. He knew exactly why. It was because of the way she’d looked at him when she’d realized he was staying with her. The way she’d gaped and blushed when he took off his clothes. And how her heart raced when he’d pulled her close, as casual as you please, as if it hadn’t been the second or third most intimate thing they could have been doing.
She wanted him. And right now-tonight-he wanted to be wanted. He couldn’t shake the terrible foreboding that had come over him at the Olympics, and he was desperately afraid it had to do with Rose, descending as it did, just after she’d professed her faith in them.
He would lose her. As sure as he drew his next breath-he knew this. He’d always known. But it felt so much more urgent now. It was the reason he’d always kept her at the tiniest distance from him. As much as he’d wanted to, he had never closed the gap, never crossed that line. It was for the same reason that he now wanted to be as close to her now as possible. Which didn’t make much sense, even to him.
But he didn’t just want to be wanted. He wanted her. The desire he’d shaken off thousands of times since he’d met her now slammed into him at full force. He wanted to kiss every inch of her, to be enveloped by her, to make her sigh and moan and call his name. He wanted to lose himself in her, or find himself; either was preferable to this ache of longing.
He’d just resolved to wake her, possibly with a kiss or a bold caress, when, as if she could read his mind in sleep, she let out a sigh and opened her eyes.
>>
Rose blinked several times to clear her vision. She was a bit surprised to find the Doctor still there in bed with her. She could tell he was staring at her, and clearly had been for some time.
“Is it morning?” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to whisper.
He reached out and gently pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over her eyes. “No,” he answered, just as low.
The hand at her face drifted down to her shoulder and then under the duvet as it caressed her half bare arm. The action confused her, and she was just about to ask him what he was doing when he closed the scant inches between them and brought his lips to hers.
His kiss was soft and undemanding. She instinctively responded, her lips returning pressure with the same lazy tenderness. After a few blissful moments he pulled back, as if to gauge her reaction. She was still hazy with sleep and there was only one explanation for his actions that made sense.
“Oh,” she said with a frown. “I’m dreaming.”
“No,” he repeated.
“Then what-?”
He cut her off with another kiss, this time sliding his tongue smoothly between her parted lips.
Rose had lost count of the number of times she’d fantasized about doing just this, and she wasn’t sure just how long it would be before the Doctor regained his senses, so she didn’t see much point in trying to question him again. In a few seconds he’d certainly pull back, embarrassed, and scamper from her bedroom.
In the meantime, she gave herself fully over to his kiss and found herself melting under the onslaught. If she were standing up, she’d lay money on her knees failing her. Though the kiss remained gentle, he was thorough and skilled, the steady stroke of his tongue finding a primal rhythm, echoing the beat of her heart. But it was more than just that.
Rose had kissed men she’d loved before. Men that she was pretty sure loved her in return. Never had she felt such a depth of emotion conveyed in the movements of lips and tongue, the fine stroke of fingers against her cheek. It was like he was telling her with his actions what he couldn’t say in words. But she received the message, as clearly as if he’d whispered it in her ear.
It was that realization that finally made her push him gently away and break the kiss. She searched his eyes as they both lay catching their breaths. They were full of things she wasn’t used to seeing. Desire, lust, yeah, they were clear as day, and they made a corresponding heat flare up in her face and down through her body. But there was a desperation there too that she didn’t understand, all belied by the warm, sexy half-smile he was giving her.
“Doctor, what’s got into you?”
“Nothing. Had some sleep.” He paused, considering something. “Actually, you could say I’ve been asleep, in a sense, for a long time now. I’m awake now, Rose. So awake. And I…” he trailed off, reaching for her face again and tracing a thumb near her lips.
Rose was still pondering his strange response when he kissed her again, then without breaking contact, shoved the duvet off of them and eased her onto her back.
He lay half atop her, his tongue delving in to dance alongside hers with a growing intensity. Eventually he came up for air, raising himself up on an elbow to stare down at her while she panted for breath.
“Rose, you know that I-” he cut himself off, seeming to struggle with the words.
If she was guessing correctly at what he’d been trying to say, she did know. Quite well. Because she felt the same. She reached a hand up to graze his cheek, softly encouraging. After a moment he spoke again.
“Be with me?” It barely sounded like a question
“You mean…?”
“Yes.”
He sounded quite definite on the subject. Hearing him say it out loud caused another flash of warmth to shoot through her. The arousal that had been building slowly within in her since she woke spiked to almost unbearable heights. She could feel her pulse throbbing within her, her breath coming in shorter, shallower bursts, but she still gasped in surprise as his cool hand slid beneath her top and onto the warm skin of her belly.
He looked up at her in alarm, and through the growing fog of desire penetrated the fact that she hadn’t really answered him.
“It is what you wanted, earlier?” he asked shakily, “When you asked me to stay?”
“Yes,” she assured him quickly. “Of course, yes. But I never thought-”
“Don’t think,” he cut her off, grazing his hand over her torso, finding the underside of a breast. He leaned to nibble at her neck just below her ear. “Just feel.”
He nipped and kissed at her throat as he slid his hand over her breast, caressing and teasing her there, causing her to arch and squirm, trying to bring more of her body into contact with his.
When she found she could speak again, she tugged his head up from her to look at him again and she whispered, “That goes both ways, you know. Can you stop your big Time Lord brain from whirring? From…” she paused to search for the right word, “worrying?”
“I’m trying Rose, but it’s so…” She was sure she heard anguish in his low voice, even mingled as it was with desire. Then, before she could blink, she sensed his mood shift and he chortled softly, cracking a smile and sliding one of his legs between hers, pressing up against her, “… hard.”
Several things happened at once. She gasped at the contact, which morphed into a giggle at his pun, and that, in turn, formed into a moan as he shifted against her and his hand set to roaming again. It pushed up her top, exposing her breasts to the air before trailing southward, and all humour faded from between them as quickly as it arrived.
As his mouth descended to tease and suck at a nipple and his hand edged into her knickers, it occurred to Rose that she’d barely touched him at all, having been so overwhelmed by what he was doing to her. She grasped at his undershirt, trying to get to the skin of his back only to have her efforts thwarted by another flood of sensation as his wicked fingers found her centre. She was almost embarrassed by the evidence of her arousal that he was sure to find there. But when he slid two of his long fingers inside her and she heard him groan deeply against her chest, almost all thoughts, especially those of being self-conscious, flew from her mind.
She clutched at the sheets and lifted her hips to his talented hand in utter abandon. As if they’d done this hundreds of times, he seemed to know exactly how to touch her to send her quickly over the edge. And as soon as she felt herself at that precipice, ready to fall, he drew away from her completely to sit up next to her.
She was breathing heavily, and she dimly realized he was too. He regarded her seriously for a moment, the unspoken communication passing easily between them. This was it then.
Rose felt her nightclothes disappear almost as if by magic. She was only vaguely aware of the awkward movements between them to rid themselves of all barriers, and then suddenly he was on her again, naked and ready, poised to finish what they started-what they’d, in truth, been building up to for years.
>>
He’d thought touching her would be his undoing. Another minute or so of it and he might have come uselessly against her while pleasuring her with his hand, but he was greedy. He wanted it all. Every nerve ending in his body screamed at him to complete the circuit between their bodies, but he paused, taking a moment to memorize her. Seeing her like this for the first time-not knowing when or how often he’d get to again-he’d take his time.
He saw her chest heaving, her whole body primed with arousal, her eyes darkened, her teeth clutching at her bottom lip.
He ran a hand quickly up her body from hip to neck and held her there gently as he bent to whisper. “Rose, I-” he tried desperately for the second time this evening to tell her exactly how he felt, but again he couldn’t finish the sentence.
He knew, by now that she knew that he… Of course she did. He’d been sure at least since Krop Tor. And if she was in any doubt, this sort of prolonged intimate contact with him would convey simple, overpowering emotions to someone as receptive as Rose. Would she feel his awe, as well? His wonder that this beautiful being-who’d risked her life so many times for him, who’d held all of time and space in her fragile human mind to save him, who saved him every day with a smile just for him, with her hand in his-let him anywhere near her heart, so say nothing of her body. Would she-
She ran a hand through his tousled hair.
“Oi,” she whispered tenderly near his ear, “I said stop that, remember? Just feel.” In emphasis, she ran her hands down his back stopping at his bum, encouraging him.
“Right,” he murmured, as he took his cue from her and rose up so he could see her face as he slid into her warmth. Her whole body arched under his as she let out his name on a desperate breath. And then there were no more words, as even his big Time Lord brain, as she’d put it, was reduced to conveying little more than the intense pleasure of being inside her, of the luscious friction of his slow, measured thrusts.
As much as his primal instinct urged him to race as quickly as possible towards completion, he didn’t want to hurry this with her. He revelled in the touch of her skin at each point of contact, from where her thighs grazed his to the push of her breasts against his chest. Every stroke of her fingertips as they roamed through his hair, over his back, or clutched at his shoulders, was heavenly. But they’d both been so ready, so close before they’d even properly started, that no matter how unhurried he wanted to be, this would be over soon.
This would be over soon. It echoed through his mind again, and he pushed the deeper meaning of the thought away. He had Rose now, and that was what mattered.
And Rose was letting out lovely moans that soon shifted to what sounded like loud whimpers. After another moment, her movements beneath him faltered and his rhythm did as well as he felt her muscles clench tightly around him, signalling her release.
His lips found her hers again; as he captured them in a frantic kiss, he increased his pace within her. It was then only a matter of seconds after that he followed her into orgasm, allowing her name to pass his lips again-the only word spoken between them since she’d gasped his when they’d begun.
He laid against her, spent and unwilling to move away from her body just yet. As their heart rates began to slow, an overwhelming sense of peace suffused him and he wondered idly if any of that was a projection of her thoughts. She shouldn’t be able to touch his mind like that. But then, there were a lot of things Rose shouldn’t be able to do that she’d done. Carving out room for herself in the hearts of a despondent old Time Lord was only one of her many amazing feats.
He wondered too, how his last self would react if he could see him now. He’d never had the nerve to show Rose how he’d felt then. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but almost more than that, he hadn’t wanted to hurt himself. It’d be painful enough when she left him, why complicate matters even more by mixing in too much physical intimacy.
This regeneration, though, was even less resistant to his persistent need of her. And from the moment he’d awoken properly in this body, he’d been fighting a losing battle against keeping himself from touching her, holding her however and whenever he could. But then, it was a little difficult to see himself as a loser in this situation. No, not just now.
“Doctor?” came her sleepy voice, prodding him from his deep thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“A girl could get insulted, you know.”
He raised his head from where it was pillowed at her breast and regarded her quizzically. “Insulted?”
“A shag like that? Took me a minute to remember my own name. And you? I can practically hear the gears going in here.” She brushed her fingers through his hair down to his temples.
She couldn’t really think he was unaffected by making love to her, could she? But no, the satisfied smile she wore told him that she was merely teasing.
He raised himself up on his elbows again and kissed her deeply on the lips before pulling back and kissing her playfully on the nose.
“Don’t be insulted, Rose.” He rolled off her to lie on his side by her before continuing. “I wasn’t contemplating reprogramming the gravitic anomolyser or anything.” She gave a small laugh. “I was thinking about you.”
“Good things?”
“Mmm,” he affirmed, kissing her shoulder. He didn’t want to stop touching her.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked seriously.
“About you? Of course, we can talk about you ‘til morning. You, Rose Tyler, happen to be one of my favourite subjects. And you know me, I can go on and on and on. ‘Course what you don’t know yet is that applies to more than my gift of gab.” He raised his eyebrow teasingly at her. “But give me a few minutes and I can show you.”
“So you say when you know I’m too tired to go another round.” She humoured his attempt to change the subject, but apparently only for a moment. “And you know that’s not what I mean.”
He played dumb and said nothing.
“About what’s coming? The storm?” she prodded.
He sighed and flopped on to his back, searching for her hand between them and entwining his fingers with hers. “I told you, Rose. I don’t know. Only that it’s big and it’s bad and-“
“It doesn’t matter.”
“What?”
“It doesn’t matter what’s coming,” she repeated firmly. Withdrawing her hand from his, she turned to her side and placed it on his chest and leveraged herself up, looking down at him intensely. “Because whatever it is, we’ll face it together, yeah?”
He couldn’t tell her that’s precisely what he was afraid of. Instead he told her what he wanted fiercely to believe.
“Yeah. Of course we will.”
She held his gaze for a moment longer before she relaxed, and, apparently satisfied with his answer, slumped against him. “Good,” she murmured into his chest and then kissed him there before settling into a comfortable position.
And that seemed to be the end of talking about it, for now. She was already falling asleep again. He reached for the forgotten duvet and brought it up to cover them both and then brought an arm around her, determined to hold her close until she woke, though he doubted he would sleep again any time soon.
“Good,” he echoed softly.
FIN
Author: karenor
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: Hard R (There be smut.)
Summary: What had him so frightened that he’d willingly tip-toe over a line that had been so carefully drawn between them?
Disclaimer: BBC owns all. Including my soul. I'd like it back one day, please. Maybe.
Author's Notes: This begins shortly after "Fear Her" ends. Say, later that night. Thanks to my beta, dettiot.
“Rose, you sure you’re all right?”
He nudged her and she stirred more awake.
“Told you, I’m fine. Why?”
“Well you’re nearly asleep and you haven’t kicked me out of your bed yet, or complained once about my cold feet.” He ran his bare foot against her calf in emphasis.
She was fully awake now and swatted his shoulder lightly in complaint.
“Maybe…” she ventured, “Maybe I don’t want you to go tonight.”
“Rose-” he started, but wasn’t sure how to continue. What she was suggesting was a breach of their unspoken protocol. Many a night on the TARDIS, especially after rough adventures, he would stay with her. They would take comfort in each other’s presence, and he would blather on about some random topic until she got sleepy, then say goodnight and leave her to her rest.
Rose sat up in bed, back up against the headboard, her gaze fixed across the room. “It’s just… I thought I’d lost you today.”
“You didn’t, though. We had cake, watched the games, saw fireworks. Everyone lived. It all turned out okay, Rose.”
“Then you said there was a storm coming.”
Right, that. Not that he’d forgotten what he’d said. He was hoping maybe she had, though.
“Yes, enigmatic that.” He pondered for a minute. “But it doesn’t mean anything. Not yet. Not until…. Well, not until I know what it means.”
“That’s comforting.” She blew out a huffed breath.
He sat up as well and faced her. He reached out his fingers to lightly touch her cheek, silently commanding that she look at him. His kept his tone gentle when he spoke again. “And me staying here tonight, that would be more… comforting?”
A blush stole over Rose’s cheeks. There was heavy implication in the suddenly tense air between them.
“Yes,” she answered simply.
He regarded her for a long moment.
“All right,” he finally said, pushing away the covers and bounding from the bed.
Rose’s eyes widened as he hastily removed his shirt and tossed it on a nearby chair. Given how she usually saw him, he supposed just a t-shirt and trousers was practically naked.
“What? Can’t very well sleep in my clothes. Well, I could, sure, but they get all wrinkly and bunched up in the most uncomfortable configurations.”
Rose said nothing; only swallowed heavily as he reached for his trousers.
“Interesting thing, the sleepwear habits across humanoid cultures,” he said, undoing them and pushing them past his hips. “Did you know that the Sitreborites of the moon off of Sitre 9, which is a lovely planet by the way, the moon, not so much, which might account for the-”
Rose slid under the covers with a groan, turning her back to him.
“Oh, sorry, not interested in the Sitreborites?” He tapped off Rose’s bedside lamp, slid back into her bed and spooned up to her back with a sigh of contentment. Rose was warm and soft, and being this close to her was indeed quite comforting. He felt he could really fall asleep with her for once. And it wouldn’t do any harm to just rest here for a while.
>>
“Just tired,” she mumbled into her pillow as his arm came around her. What she was, was just thankful that he’d stopped shedding clothes when he did. Or else she’d have an even harder time concealing the flush that stole over her body at the sight of him undressing. But he was safely covered in underclothes and clearly had no interest in either of them wearing less.
But considering how easily he gave in to her request to stay the night, and how intimately he was holding her now, she imagined he might need the reassurance of a warm body close to him as well. Though, of course, he’d never admit to that.
She tried not to think about what had him so frightened that he’d willingly tip-toe over a line that had been so carefully drawn between them. And of course, even if he knew what was approaching, he probably wouldn’t say. He’d avoid the issue; change the subject to spare her having to be troubled by it too. It’s what he always did, withholding important information that he thought might upset her, preferring to shoulder the worry all on his own.
She’d bet that right now he was regretting ever uttering that ominous phrase in her presence. And tomorrow? Tomorrow he’d pretend it never happened and things would go back to normal.
For tonight though, they could be this close, at least. He’d give her that, and she’d return the favour.
So she willed her heart to slow its still frantic pace and take this comfort the Doctor offered and not be worried about what other comforts she wanted from him.
She soon heard his breathing settle into a slow, regular rhythm and realized that he’d fallen asleep. Letting herself completely relax again, she quickly drifted off as well.
* * *
When the Doctor next opened his eyes, two hours had passed. Rose was peacefully asleep next to him, he observed. They’d shifted position in sleep and were now both on their sides, facing toward each other, only inches apart.
He slid a hand absently to the lamp, raising the lights to a candle-like glow, and observed her silently, looking his fill. She was so beautiful in sleep. The worry that she had tried to hide all evening was gone from her calm face. He mentally kicked himself for the hundredth time since they’d returned to the TARDIS for putting that worry there. Why’d he open his mouth and tell her about the storm?
He wasn’t really sure, either, why he’d acceded to her request earlier when it had always seemed a bad idea in the past. Oh, that wasn’t true. He knew exactly why. It was because of the way she’d looked at him when she’d realized he was staying with her. The way she’d gaped and blushed when he took off his clothes. And how her heart raced when he’d pulled her close, as casual as you please, as if it hadn’t been the second or third most intimate thing they could have been doing.
She wanted him. And right now-tonight-he wanted to be wanted. He couldn’t shake the terrible foreboding that had come over him at the Olympics, and he was desperately afraid it had to do with Rose, descending as it did, just after she’d professed her faith in them.
He would lose her. As sure as he drew his next breath-he knew this. He’d always known. But it felt so much more urgent now. It was the reason he’d always kept her at the tiniest distance from him. As much as he’d wanted to, he had never closed the gap, never crossed that line. It was for the same reason that he now wanted to be as close to her now as possible. Which didn’t make much sense, even to him.
But he didn’t just want to be wanted. He wanted her. The desire he’d shaken off thousands of times since he’d met her now slammed into him at full force. He wanted to kiss every inch of her, to be enveloped by her, to make her sigh and moan and call his name. He wanted to lose himself in her, or find himself; either was preferable to this ache of longing.
He’d just resolved to wake her, possibly with a kiss or a bold caress, when, as if she could read his mind in sleep, she let out a sigh and opened her eyes.
>>
Rose blinked several times to clear her vision. She was a bit surprised to find the Doctor still there in bed with her. She could tell he was staring at her, and clearly had been for some time.
“Is it morning?” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to whisper.
He reached out and gently pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over her eyes. “No,” he answered, just as low.
The hand at her face drifted down to her shoulder and then under the duvet as it caressed her half bare arm. The action confused her, and she was just about to ask him what he was doing when he closed the scant inches between them and brought his lips to hers.
His kiss was soft and undemanding. She instinctively responded, her lips returning pressure with the same lazy tenderness. After a few blissful moments he pulled back, as if to gauge her reaction. She was still hazy with sleep and there was only one explanation for his actions that made sense.
“Oh,” she said with a frown. “I’m dreaming.”
“No,” he repeated.
“Then what-?”
He cut her off with another kiss, this time sliding his tongue smoothly between her parted lips.
Rose had lost count of the number of times she’d fantasized about doing just this, and she wasn’t sure just how long it would be before the Doctor regained his senses, so she didn’t see much point in trying to question him again. In a few seconds he’d certainly pull back, embarrassed, and scamper from her bedroom.
In the meantime, she gave herself fully over to his kiss and found herself melting under the onslaught. If she were standing up, she’d lay money on her knees failing her. Though the kiss remained gentle, he was thorough and skilled, the steady stroke of his tongue finding a primal rhythm, echoing the beat of her heart. But it was more than just that.
Rose had kissed men she’d loved before. Men that she was pretty sure loved her in return. Never had she felt such a depth of emotion conveyed in the movements of lips and tongue, the fine stroke of fingers against her cheek. It was like he was telling her with his actions what he couldn’t say in words. But she received the message, as clearly as if he’d whispered it in her ear.
It was that realization that finally made her push him gently away and break the kiss. She searched his eyes as they both lay catching their breaths. They were full of things she wasn’t used to seeing. Desire, lust, yeah, they were clear as day, and they made a corresponding heat flare up in her face and down through her body. But there was a desperation there too that she didn’t understand, all belied by the warm, sexy half-smile he was giving her.
“Doctor, what’s got into you?”
“Nothing. Had some sleep.” He paused, considering something. “Actually, you could say I’ve been asleep, in a sense, for a long time now. I’m awake now, Rose. So awake. And I…” he trailed off, reaching for her face again and tracing a thumb near her lips.
Rose was still pondering his strange response when he kissed her again, then without breaking contact, shoved the duvet off of them and eased her onto her back.
He lay half atop her, his tongue delving in to dance alongside hers with a growing intensity. Eventually he came up for air, raising himself up on an elbow to stare down at her while she panted for breath.
“Rose, you know that I-” he cut himself off, seeming to struggle with the words.
If she was guessing correctly at what he’d been trying to say, she did know. Quite well. Because she felt the same. She reached a hand up to graze his cheek, softly encouraging. After a moment he spoke again.
“Be with me?” It barely sounded like a question
“You mean…?”
“Yes.”
He sounded quite definite on the subject. Hearing him say it out loud caused another flash of warmth to shoot through her. The arousal that had been building slowly within in her since she woke spiked to almost unbearable heights. She could feel her pulse throbbing within her, her breath coming in shorter, shallower bursts, but she still gasped in surprise as his cool hand slid beneath her top and onto the warm skin of her belly.
He looked up at her in alarm, and through the growing fog of desire penetrated the fact that she hadn’t really answered him.
“It is what you wanted, earlier?” he asked shakily, “When you asked me to stay?”
“Yes,” she assured him quickly. “Of course, yes. But I never thought-”
“Don’t think,” he cut her off, grazing his hand over her torso, finding the underside of a breast. He leaned to nibble at her neck just below her ear. “Just feel.”
He nipped and kissed at her throat as he slid his hand over her breast, caressing and teasing her there, causing her to arch and squirm, trying to bring more of her body into contact with his.
When she found she could speak again, she tugged his head up from her to look at him again and she whispered, “That goes both ways, you know. Can you stop your big Time Lord brain from whirring? From…” she paused to search for the right word, “worrying?”
“I’m trying Rose, but it’s so…” She was sure she heard anguish in his low voice, even mingled as it was with desire. Then, before she could blink, she sensed his mood shift and he chortled softly, cracking a smile and sliding one of his legs between hers, pressing up against her, “… hard.”
Several things happened at once. She gasped at the contact, which morphed into a giggle at his pun, and that, in turn, formed into a moan as he shifted against her and his hand set to roaming again. It pushed up her top, exposing her breasts to the air before trailing southward, and all humour faded from between them as quickly as it arrived.
As his mouth descended to tease and suck at a nipple and his hand edged into her knickers, it occurred to Rose that she’d barely touched him at all, having been so overwhelmed by what he was doing to her. She grasped at his undershirt, trying to get to the skin of his back only to have her efforts thwarted by another flood of sensation as his wicked fingers found her centre. She was almost embarrassed by the evidence of her arousal that he was sure to find there. But when he slid two of his long fingers inside her and she heard him groan deeply against her chest, almost all thoughts, especially those of being self-conscious, flew from her mind.
She clutched at the sheets and lifted her hips to his talented hand in utter abandon. As if they’d done this hundreds of times, he seemed to know exactly how to touch her to send her quickly over the edge. And as soon as she felt herself at that precipice, ready to fall, he drew away from her completely to sit up next to her.
She was breathing heavily, and she dimly realized he was too. He regarded her seriously for a moment, the unspoken communication passing easily between them. This was it then.
Rose felt her nightclothes disappear almost as if by magic. She was only vaguely aware of the awkward movements between them to rid themselves of all barriers, and then suddenly he was on her again, naked and ready, poised to finish what they started-what they’d, in truth, been building up to for years.
>>
He’d thought touching her would be his undoing. Another minute or so of it and he might have come uselessly against her while pleasuring her with his hand, but he was greedy. He wanted it all. Every nerve ending in his body screamed at him to complete the circuit between their bodies, but he paused, taking a moment to memorize her. Seeing her like this for the first time-not knowing when or how often he’d get to again-he’d take his time.
He saw her chest heaving, her whole body primed with arousal, her eyes darkened, her teeth clutching at her bottom lip.
He ran a hand quickly up her body from hip to neck and held her there gently as he bent to whisper. “Rose, I-” he tried desperately for the second time this evening to tell her exactly how he felt, but again he couldn’t finish the sentence.
He knew, by now that she knew that he… Of course she did. He’d been sure at least since Krop Tor. And if she was in any doubt, this sort of prolonged intimate contact with him would convey simple, overpowering emotions to someone as receptive as Rose. Would she feel his awe, as well? His wonder that this beautiful being-who’d risked her life so many times for him, who’d held all of time and space in her fragile human mind to save him, who saved him every day with a smile just for him, with her hand in his-let him anywhere near her heart, so say nothing of her body. Would she-
She ran a hand through his tousled hair.
“Oi,” she whispered tenderly near his ear, “I said stop that, remember? Just feel.” In emphasis, she ran her hands down his back stopping at his bum, encouraging him.
“Right,” he murmured, as he took his cue from her and rose up so he could see her face as he slid into her warmth. Her whole body arched under his as she let out his name on a desperate breath. And then there were no more words, as even his big Time Lord brain, as she’d put it, was reduced to conveying little more than the intense pleasure of being inside her, of the luscious friction of his slow, measured thrusts.
As much as his primal instinct urged him to race as quickly as possible towards completion, he didn’t want to hurry this with her. He revelled in the touch of her skin at each point of contact, from where her thighs grazed his to the push of her breasts against his chest. Every stroke of her fingertips as they roamed through his hair, over his back, or clutched at his shoulders, was heavenly. But they’d both been so ready, so close before they’d even properly started, that no matter how unhurried he wanted to be, this would be over soon.
This would be over soon. It echoed through his mind again, and he pushed the deeper meaning of the thought away. He had Rose now, and that was what mattered.
And Rose was letting out lovely moans that soon shifted to what sounded like loud whimpers. After another moment, her movements beneath him faltered and his rhythm did as well as he felt her muscles clench tightly around him, signalling her release.
His lips found her hers again; as he captured them in a frantic kiss, he increased his pace within her. It was then only a matter of seconds after that he followed her into orgasm, allowing her name to pass his lips again-the only word spoken between them since she’d gasped his when they’d begun.
He laid against her, spent and unwilling to move away from her body just yet. As their heart rates began to slow, an overwhelming sense of peace suffused him and he wondered idly if any of that was a projection of her thoughts. She shouldn’t be able to touch his mind like that. But then, there were a lot of things Rose shouldn’t be able to do that she’d done. Carving out room for herself in the hearts of a despondent old Time Lord was only one of her many amazing feats.
He wondered too, how his last self would react if he could see him now. He’d never had the nerve to show Rose how he’d felt then. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but almost more than that, he hadn’t wanted to hurt himself. It’d be painful enough when she left him, why complicate matters even more by mixing in too much physical intimacy.
This regeneration, though, was even less resistant to his persistent need of her. And from the moment he’d awoken properly in this body, he’d been fighting a losing battle against keeping himself from touching her, holding her however and whenever he could. But then, it was a little difficult to see himself as a loser in this situation. No, not just now.
“Doctor?” came her sleepy voice, prodding him from his deep thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“A girl could get insulted, you know.”
He raised his head from where it was pillowed at her breast and regarded her quizzically. “Insulted?”
“A shag like that? Took me a minute to remember my own name. And you? I can practically hear the gears going in here.” She brushed her fingers through his hair down to his temples.
She couldn’t really think he was unaffected by making love to her, could she? But no, the satisfied smile she wore told him that she was merely teasing.
He raised himself up on his elbows again and kissed her deeply on the lips before pulling back and kissing her playfully on the nose.
“Don’t be insulted, Rose.” He rolled off her to lie on his side by her before continuing. “I wasn’t contemplating reprogramming the gravitic anomolyser or anything.” She gave a small laugh. “I was thinking about you.”
“Good things?”
“Mmm,” he affirmed, kissing her shoulder. He didn’t want to stop touching her.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked seriously.
“About you? Of course, we can talk about you ‘til morning. You, Rose Tyler, happen to be one of my favourite subjects. And you know me, I can go on and on and on. ‘Course what you don’t know yet is that applies to more than my gift of gab.” He raised his eyebrow teasingly at her. “But give me a few minutes and I can show you.”
“So you say when you know I’m too tired to go another round.” She humoured his attempt to change the subject, but apparently only for a moment. “And you know that’s not what I mean.”
He played dumb and said nothing.
“About what’s coming? The storm?” she prodded.
He sighed and flopped on to his back, searching for her hand between them and entwining his fingers with hers. “I told you, Rose. I don’t know. Only that it’s big and it’s bad and-“
“It doesn’t matter.”
“What?”
“It doesn’t matter what’s coming,” she repeated firmly. Withdrawing her hand from his, she turned to her side and placed it on his chest and leveraged herself up, looking down at him intensely. “Because whatever it is, we’ll face it together, yeah?”
He couldn’t tell her that’s precisely what he was afraid of. Instead he told her what he wanted fiercely to believe.
“Yeah. Of course we will.”
She held his gaze for a moment longer before she relaxed, and, apparently satisfied with his answer, slumped against him. “Good,” she murmured into his chest and then kissed him there before settling into a comfortable position.
And that seemed to be the end of talking about it, for now. She was already falling asleep again. He reached for the forgotten duvet and brought it up to cover them both and then brought an arm around her, determined to hold her close until she woke, though he doubted he would sleep again any time soon.
“Good,” he echoed softly.
FIN