Unbound - Chapter Two
Title:Unbound
Categories(?):Smutty goodness, a touch of romance, humor, angst, BDSM
Rating: Starts out R, but by Chapter 3 we'll be in NC-17 territory. Did I mention that there will be bondage..and discipline?
Pairing: Five/Turlough
Unbound-Chapter Two
Turlough returned to the TARDIS at nightfall with his clothing rumpled, and a sence of benevolence with regard to life in the universe. Heading straight to the kitchen, he ignored Tegan, who was sitting at the table, and opened the refrigerator. Retrieving the orange juice, he drank straight from the jug, while Tegan watched him warily.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
Confident that the Doctor had imparted only generalities regarding his recent foul mood and how he intended to go about improving it, Turlough smiled. “It was kind of you to be concerned about me,” he said. Surprisingly, he was flattered that Tegan cared enough to worry about him.
“I don’t like to pry,” Tegan insisted. “But…”
Turlough set down the juice, and shushed her. “It’s fine. I’m doing better.” Feeling strangely affectionate, he wrapped his arms around her from behind and gave her a warm hug.
Tegan giggled nervously and squirmed out of his grasp, twisting around in her chair to face him. “What’s gotten into you?” She sniffed the air, and gasped. “Turlough! Either you’ve started wearing perfume or you’ve been very close to someone who does. To think I was worried you wouldn’t have a good time, moping around out there on your own.”
Turlough grinned, pleased to see she was blushing. Keeping her guessing while he schemed was going to be loads of fun. “Oh, I had a wonderful time,” he assured her, finishing off the rest of the juice.
“Whoever she was, I hope she was gentle with you,” Tegan teased.
Unable to stifle a derisive laugh, Turlough raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Oh no, Tegan. He wasn’t. Not at all.” He winked and made for his room, leaving Tegan looking stunned.
-------------------
Over the next few days, Turlough followed up his off-hand comment to Tegan with genuine overtures of friendship, peppered with half-truths regarding his age, taste in music, and what his type might be. It took some time to convince her that, regardless of his sexual orientation, he still had no interest in her clothing selection or how she did her hair. “I wear the same boring thing every day,” he pointed out. Unfortunately, she took this as permission to badger him into "experimenting" with different "looks". Finally, a compromise was reached. Turlough agreed to try dressing a bit more casually around the TARDIS, and, in exchange, Tegan promised to stop trying to find out where he stood on the boxers versus briefs issue. Turlough found it annoying she should care so much about his underwear when he had never shown the slighest interest in hers.
When he had time to spare, Turlough plotted out how to draw the Doctor into another sexually charged situation. Eventually he came up with a plan that he believed could be executed with a minimum of risk to his continued happiness. Turlough decided that the hard part wasn’t necessarily getting the Doctor to tie him up. He was reasonably certain the Time Lord would be willing to assist with something he knew to have therapeutic value.
The more difficult part is coming up with a reason for him to stick around while I’m tied up. Then I’ll turn the topic of conversation back around to his time on Earth. It won’t be easy. I can’t just come out and ask if he was shagging the humans - male, female, or both. You did say it was a topic for ‘another day’, Doctor. I believe that day has arrived.
Having located a length of velvet cord of the type used to tie back heavy curtains, Turlough approached the Doctor in the control room late one evening after Tegan had gone to bed. Clearing his throat to announce his presence, Turlough did his best to sound nervous. “Er, Doctor, I’m wondering if I might ask you to help me with something.” Stooping slightly, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking hesitant.
“What’s that, Turlough?” The Doctor was apparently distracted by the TARDIS door mechanism which had been making a horrid sound.
“I’ve, uh, been feeling…agitated again, and I’d rather not repeat the mistakes I made last time. I’ve taken to heart what you said about not suffering in silence, so I hope it’s all right if I ask you, that is, I’d like to…” At last the hemming and hawing prompted the Doctor to look at Turlough.
“Is there a question in there somewhere?”
Turlough stood up straight and made his request. “Would you please tie my hands behind my back?” Turlough pulled the cord from his pocket, indicating his level of preparedness.
Seemingly taken aback, it was a moment before the Doctor responded, “Well, I suppose I could do that…if it would be helpful to you. Where do you want to be for this?”
“Perhaps the library,” Turlough suggested.
A few minutes later, Turlough was seated cross-legged on the rug in the library. He pulled the jumper Tegan had forced on him up over his head and set it aside. Then he put his arms behind his back. The Doctor knelt down beside him and looped the cord over Turlough’s crossed wrists.
“Do you have a specific way you’d like this done?” the Doctor inquired lightly.
Always so helpful, Doctor. “Not really. Feel free to improvise.” Turlough didn’t look over his shoulder, but he tried to visualize the binding taking shape. Over, under, around, and fastened off. No half-hearted attempt at a knot, either. Perhaps he’s done this before.
“How’s that?” the Doctor asked.
Turlough wiggled his fingers, making certain circulation was not impaired. He then rotated his shoulders forward and back, making certain he could not free himself. “Very nice. Thank you.” It really does feel pleasantly tight.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” the Doctor said, moving to leave the room.
Turlough let a tiny flicker of disappointment show in his eyes. “Oh, yes. I suppose you should. Just don’t forget I’m here.”
“Of course not. I’ll check on you in a bit.”
Turlough sighed contentedly. Phase one of his plan was going as smoothly as he had anticipated. Knowing he had some time to kill, Turlough bent his head forward slightly and let his mind wander. Recent events were recalled, conversations replayed and analyzed; analysis melted into daydream. He wasn’t sure how long he wallowed in a pleasant, unthinking haze. Roused by the sound of footsteps nearing, Turlough’s instincts asserted themselves and he snapped to attention, muscles tight.
“Relax, Turlough. It’s only me.”
“Oh, Doctor. Good.” Turlough felt a little foolish for overreacting. Apparently I’m a bit on edge. Have to do something about that later.
“Still all right?” the Doctor asked, bending to look Turlough in the eye.
“No problems here. Er, I was wondering, though, if you might stay and talk with me a while…if I wouldn’t be taking you away from anything too important.”
The blond rocked back on his heels. “Nothing terribly urgent to be done,” he confessed. “I suppose I could chat a while. Do you want me to undo…”
Turlough spoke quickly. “Oh no, I’m still very comfortable.” He scooted himself on the floor until his back was against a bookshelf. “Unless you would find it distracting to carry on a conversation while I’m bound.”
Shaking his head noncommittally, the Doctor replied, “Not at all. I’m interested to see how you manage without being able to gesture with your hands, or adjust your tie. Speaking of which, where is your tie?”
Turlough rolled his eyes. “Safe in my room. Tegan insisted it didn’t go with this shirt.” He looked down, indicating the dark blue long-sleeved garment currently stretched rather tightly across his chest.
“No, I suppose not,” the Doctor remarked as he sat down in his favorite chair.
Turlough watched the Time Lord with keen eyes as they discussed the recent unplanned detour to Gallifrey.
“I had hoped to spend more time on the Eye of Orion,” the Doctor said regretfully. “Thought it might be good for all of us. Er, how are you, by the way?”
Turlough shrugged, and chuckled when his movement was limited by the restraints. “Oh, the hormones are still raging, but under control at the moment. This really does help by the way - the talking, as well being tied up. Gives my brain a chance to relax. You know it was very interesting meeting your other selves. I’m terribly curious about your time on Earth. While you were there, did you…how shall I put this delicately…find someone, or several someones, to pass the time with?” Turlough bit his lower lip and cast his eyes downward, hoping to give the impression that he was merely seeking reassurance that his own actions had not been wrong.
The Doctor scratched the back of his neck absentmindedly. “Ah, well, there were a few attempts made to engage me in that sort of activity,” he acknowledged.
Turlough grinned. When in doubt, appeal to vanity. “I’m not surprised, having seen the you that was trapped on Earth. Tall, charming, and a snappy dresser - must have gotten your fair share of attention.”
The Doctor crossed one leg over his knee and tapped his fingers against the sole of his shoe. He looked as if he might not answer, but then admitted, “There was some pursuit.”
“But you never got caught, or let yourself be caught?”
“I couldn’t risk being ‘caught’, Turlough,” he snapped. Given the far away look in his eye, Turlough speculated that the Doctor was vexed more by some memory of exile rather than the impertinent question. The Gallifreyan explained further. “I suspect you’re better able to pass for human than I am. Upon close examination, the differences would become clear.”
Turlough gave his friend a visual once over. “You have something extra, or missing?” he asked, jokingly.
“The hearts, Turlough,” the Doctor reminded him, chuckling lightly. “The hearts.”
“Ahh, yes, a dead giveaway. I suppose I am lucky in that respect. Apart from being cold - which often sparks the desire to warm me up - I appear woefully human, which has its own difficulties really.”
“Such as?”
Though he was trying to sound disinterested, Turlough knew the other man’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh, nothing dramatic. Expectations of a certain response or capability,” he said offhandedly. “Sadly I don’t always know what’s normal for my body. I may have nerve damage from the…never mind. I’m babbling.” Turlough kicked himself mentally. Stupid! He doesn’t want to hear your sob story, and you don’t want to tell it anyway. Move the discussion back to him.
“Do humans smell funny to you?” Turlough asked abruptly.
With a soft laugh, the Doctor shook his head. “Turlough you are endlessly surprising. That’s a very odd question. Funny in comparison to whom? They smell different from other species, but not necessarily unpleasant.”
“True. I didn’t mean to imply they smelled bad. I just wondered if you noticed it like I did.”
“It is different when one is around large groups of humans day in and day out as opposed to individuals for a limited time,” the Doctor agreed.
Turlough nodded enthusiastically. It wasn’t strictly the topic he wanted to discuss, but he had been curious for some time how another non-human would experience the things he had. “Oh, I agree. For example, I find Tegan’s scent agreeable…when she’s not overdoing the perfume, but on Earth I would avoid groups of females. Sometimes the combination of smells was dizzying.”
“Hmm, that’s interesting, because I always found their scent rather comforting.”
And back to the hook. “What about males?” Turlough asked curiously.
“What about them?”
“Human males,” Turlough prompted. “What do they smell like to you?”
The Doctor appeared to be trying to recall. “It’s been a while since I traveled with one. I think sort of warm and slightly damp…like dirt after the ground thaws in spring.”
Turlough was thrilled. “That’s what I thought! I always wondered how another ‘alien’ would describe it. Mind you, the males I found attractive had a slightly different note in their scent. More animal-like.”
Taking an academic interest, the Doctor speculated, “Pheromones maybe? Your species can sense them?”
“Maybe. Say, what do I smell like to you?”
“Ha! I have no idea. I don’t make a habit of sniffing my companions.”
“Humor me,” Turlough coaxed. “Come on, I’m not going anywhere.”
“All right, in the spirit of scientific inquiry,” the Doctor said lightly. He leaned over Turlough, which in turn gave Turlough the opportunity to take in his scent as well. He was silent for a moment.
“Well?” Turlough asked nervously. To his relief the Doctor smiled.
“We seem to be using the same shampoo,” he observed.
Turlough felt warmth in his cheeks. “We both have fine hair,” he sniffed. “It requires special care.”
The Doctor nudged his shoulder. “Just giving you a hard time. You smell much different from a human. It’s a curious clean scent. I’d say almost antiseptic, but there’s something slightly warm beneath that.”
“We sweat less,” Turlough explained. “So, not weird or anything?”
Rolling his eyes, the Doctor seemed utterly bemused. “You’re fine, Turlough. Honestly, you’re so self-conscious sometimes. Now, it did not escape my notice that you have apparently assessed my odor profile as well.”
Turlough grinned and batted his eyelashes. “Can’t put anything past you, can I? Your scent is difficult to describe. I want to say flowery because of how light it is, but it’s not perfumy. Actually now that I think about it, it reminds me of these green leafy plants we had all around the pal…place where I grew up. Very nice.”
“Glad you approve.”
There was an awkward silence, until Turlough piped up again. “So how did you keep them away?”
The Doctor seemed to miss the course change. “Pardon?”
“The humans. One thing I’ll say for Earthlings is that they’re persistent. Some simply won’t take no for an answer.”
A smile played at the Doctor’s lips, as if he knew exactly what Turlough meant. “I did have to…prevaricate on occasion.”
“How so?”
The Doctor was grinning widely now. “I recall telling a few admirers that I had been injured in a helicopter crash and was no longer able to…perform as it were.”
Turlough laughed out loud. “Doctor, that is fantastic! I can just imagine you telling some big-eyed dear in a minidress with huge hair, crushing her hopes for a liaison with the dashing Doctor Smith.” Turlough lowered his voice. “Did it work?”
“For the most part.”
“What’s that mean?”
With a wave of his hands, the Doctor deflected the question. “Nothing. Tell me, did you hate absolutely every minute on Earth?”
This time it was Turlough who was unprepared to have the conversation turn back to him. “Not really,” he granted.
“It seems you liked someone well enough to trust them with your safety.” Turlough looked at him, puzzled. “The bondage,” the Doctor reminded him.
Turlough’s face felt hot again. He’d almost forgotten his wrists were secured delightfully behind his back. “Oh, that. I had a kinky art instructor. He encouraged me to develop my talents in many areas. His office was in one of the older buildings. There were several deserted classrooms to use as our playground.”
“Risky...if you’d been caught…”
Turlough scowled. This was not supposed to be about me. “It was a risk I was willing to take. I resented having to pretend I didn’t want what I wanted.”
“One loves whom one loves,” the Gallifreyn observed thoughtfully.
Turlough snorted. “Save the fairy tales for children and females, Doctor. I’ve no illusions of what it was all about, and it wasn’t love. I’ve said already that my drives are strong. I can only survive on…” Turlough stopped, choosing not to finish the sentence as crudely as he had planned. Instead he looked the Doctor squarely in the eye. “One tires of playing with boys…” he said deliberately. “…and yearns for the company of men.”
The blond man's face was a mask of serenity. “Age and experience do have their benefits,” he said coolly. “As you will know in time.”
For the first time since the Doctor had bound him, Turlough felt constrained by the cords around his wrists. He ached to wrap his arms around the Doctor’s neck and pull the Time Lord’s body down onto his own. I’ll give you an experience, Doctor.
Without another word, the Doctor moved from his chair and knelt down beside Turlough. He reached behind Turlough, who held his breath, and tried not to shiver as deft fingers undid the knots they’d tied. “I think it’s time to say goodnight.” The Doctor’s tone was firm and Turlough knew he dare not push any further.
“Goodnight, Doctor.” Turlough shuffled off to his room. His hands were free, but chilled. Fortunately Turlough he knew exactly how he wanted to get them warmed up. I can make you want me, Doctor. Next time, you won’t untie me so quickly.
Categories(?):Smutty goodness, a touch of romance, humor, angst, BDSM
Rating: Starts out R, but by Chapter 3 we'll be in NC-17 territory. Did I mention that there will be bondage..and discipline?
Pairing: Five/Turlough
Unbound-Chapter Two
Turlough returned to the TARDIS at nightfall with his clothing rumpled, and a sence of benevolence with regard to life in the universe. Heading straight to the kitchen, he ignored Tegan, who was sitting at the table, and opened the refrigerator. Retrieving the orange juice, he drank straight from the jug, while Tegan watched him warily.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
Confident that the Doctor had imparted only generalities regarding his recent foul mood and how he intended to go about improving it, Turlough smiled. “It was kind of you to be concerned about me,” he said. Surprisingly, he was flattered that Tegan cared enough to worry about him.
“I don’t like to pry,” Tegan insisted. “But…”
Turlough set down the juice, and shushed her. “It’s fine. I’m doing better.” Feeling strangely affectionate, he wrapped his arms around her from behind and gave her a warm hug.
Tegan giggled nervously and squirmed out of his grasp, twisting around in her chair to face him. “What’s gotten into you?” She sniffed the air, and gasped. “Turlough! Either you’ve started wearing perfume or you’ve been very close to someone who does. To think I was worried you wouldn’t have a good time, moping around out there on your own.”
Turlough grinned, pleased to see she was blushing. Keeping her guessing while he schemed was going to be loads of fun. “Oh, I had a wonderful time,” he assured her, finishing off the rest of the juice.
“Whoever she was, I hope she was gentle with you,” Tegan teased.
Unable to stifle a derisive laugh, Turlough raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Oh no, Tegan. He wasn’t. Not at all.” He winked and made for his room, leaving Tegan looking stunned.
-------------------
Over the next few days, Turlough followed up his off-hand comment to Tegan with genuine overtures of friendship, peppered with half-truths regarding his age, taste in music, and what his type might be. It took some time to convince her that, regardless of his sexual orientation, he still had no interest in her clothing selection or how she did her hair. “I wear the same boring thing every day,” he pointed out. Unfortunately, she took this as permission to badger him into "experimenting" with different "looks". Finally, a compromise was reached. Turlough agreed to try dressing a bit more casually around the TARDIS, and, in exchange, Tegan promised to stop trying to find out where he stood on the boxers versus briefs issue. Turlough found it annoying she should care so much about his underwear when he had never shown the slighest interest in hers.
When he had time to spare, Turlough plotted out how to draw the Doctor into another sexually charged situation. Eventually he came up with a plan that he believed could be executed with a minimum of risk to his continued happiness. Turlough decided that the hard part wasn’t necessarily getting the Doctor to tie him up. He was reasonably certain the Time Lord would be willing to assist with something he knew to have therapeutic value.
The more difficult part is coming up with a reason for him to stick around while I’m tied up. Then I’ll turn the topic of conversation back around to his time on Earth. It won’t be easy. I can’t just come out and ask if he was shagging the humans - male, female, or both. You did say it was a topic for ‘another day’, Doctor. I believe that day has arrived.
Having located a length of velvet cord of the type used to tie back heavy curtains, Turlough approached the Doctor in the control room late one evening after Tegan had gone to bed. Clearing his throat to announce his presence, Turlough did his best to sound nervous. “Er, Doctor, I’m wondering if I might ask you to help me with something.” Stooping slightly, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking hesitant.
“What’s that, Turlough?” The Doctor was apparently distracted by the TARDIS door mechanism which had been making a horrid sound.
“I’ve, uh, been feeling…agitated again, and I’d rather not repeat the mistakes I made last time. I’ve taken to heart what you said about not suffering in silence, so I hope it’s all right if I ask you, that is, I’d like to…” At last the hemming and hawing prompted the Doctor to look at Turlough.
“Is there a question in there somewhere?”
Turlough stood up straight and made his request. “Would you please tie my hands behind my back?” Turlough pulled the cord from his pocket, indicating his level of preparedness.
Seemingly taken aback, it was a moment before the Doctor responded, “Well, I suppose I could do that…if it would be helpful to you. Where do you want to be for this?”
“Perhaps the library,” Turlough suggested.
A few minutes later, Turlough was seated cross-legged on the rug in the library. He pulled the jumper Tegan had forced on him up over his head and set it aside. Then he put his arms behind his back. The Doctor knelt down beside him and looped the cord over Turlough’s crossed wrists.
“Do you have a specific way you’d like this done?” the Doctor inquired lightly.
Always so helpful, Doctor. “Not really. Feel free to improvise.” Turlough didn’t look over his shoulder, but he tried to visualize the binding taking shape. Over, under, around, and fastened off. No half-hearted attempt at a knot, either. Perhaps he’s done this before.
“How’s that?” the Doctor asked.
Turlough wiggled his fingers, making certain circulation was not impaired. He then rotated his shoulders forward and back, making certain he could not free himself. “Very nice. Thank you.” It really does feel pleasantly tight.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” the Doctor said, moving to leave the room.
Turlough let a tiny flicker of disappointment show in his eyes. “Oh, yes. I suppose you should. Just don’t forget I’m here.”
“Of course not. I’ll check on you in a bit.”
Turlough sighed contentedly. Phase one of his plan was going as smoothly as he had anticipated. Knowing he had some time to kill, Turlough bent his head forward slightly and let his mind wander. Recent events were recalled, conversations replayed and analyzed; analysis melted into daydream. He wasn’t sure how long he wallowed in a pleasant, unthinking haze. Roused by the sound of footsteps nearing, Turlough’s instincts asserted themselves and he snapped to attention, muscles tight.
“Relax, Turlough. It’s only me.”
“Oh, Doctor. Good.” Turlough felt a little foolish for overreacting. Apparently I’m a bit on edge. Have to do something about that later.
“Still all right?” the Doctor asked, bending to look Turlough in the eye.
“No problems here. Er, I was wondering, though, if you might stay and talk with me a while…if I wouldn’t be taking you away from anything too important.”
The blond rocked back on his heels. “Nothing terribly urgent to be done,” he confessed. “I suppose I could chat a while. Do you want me to undo…”
Turlough spoke quickly. “Oh no, I’m still very comfortable.” He scooted himself on the floor until his back was against a bookshelf. “Unless you would find it distracting to carry on a conversation while I’m bound.”
Shaking his head noncommittally, the Doctor replied, “Not at all. I’m interested to see how you manage without being able to gesture with your hands, or adjust your tie. Speaking of which, where is your tie?”
Turlough rolled his eyes. “Safe in my room. Tegan insisted it didn’t go with this shirt.” He looked down, indicating the dark blue long-sleeved garment currently stretched rather tightly across his chest.
“No, I suppose not,” the Doctor remarked as he sat down in his favorite chair.
Turlough watched the Time Lord with keen eyes as they discussed the recent unplanned detour to Gallifrey.
“I had hoped to spend more time on the Eye of Orion,” the Doctor said regretfully. “Thought it might be good for all of us. Er, how are you, by the way?”
Turlough shrugged, and chuckled when his movement was limited by the restraints. “Oh, the hormones are still raging, but under control at the moment. This really does help by the way - the talking, as well being tied up. Gives my brain a chance to relax. You know it was very interesting meeting your other selves. I’m terribly curious about your time on Earth. While you were there, did you…how shall I put this delicately…find someone, or several someones, to pass the time with?” Turlough bit his lower lip and cast his eyes downward, hoping to give the impression that he was merely seeking reassurance that his own actions had not been wrong.
The Doctor scratched the back of his neck absentmindedly. “Ah, well, there were a few attempts made to engage me in that sort of activity,” he acknowledged.
Turlough grinned. When in doubt, appeal to vanity. “I’m not surprised, having seen the you that was trapped on Earth. Tall, charming, and a snappy dresser - must have gotten your fair share of attention.”
The Doctor crossed one leg over his knee and tapped his fingers against the sole of his shoe. He looked as if he might not answer, but then admitted, “There was some pursuit.”
“But you never got caught, or let yourself be caught?”
“I couldn’t risk being ‘caught’, Turlough,” he snapped. Given the far away look in his eye, Turlough speculated that the Doctor was vexed more by some memory of exile rather than the impertinent question. The Gallifreyan explained further. “I suspect you’re better able to pass for human than I am. Upon close examination, the differences would become clear.”
Turlough gave his friend a visual once over. “You have something extra, or missing?” he asked, jokingly.
“The hearts, Turlough,” the Doctor reminded him, chuckling lightly. “The hearts.”
“Ahh, yes, a dead giveaway. I suppose I am lucky in that respect. Apart from being cold - which often sparks the desire to warm me up - I appear woefully human, which has its own difficulties really.”
“Such as?”
Though he was trying to sound disinterested, Turlough knew the other man’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh, nothing dramatic. Expectations of a certain response or capability,” he said offhandedly. “Sadly I don’t always know what’s normal for my body. I may have nerve damage from the…never mind. I’m babbling.” Turlough kicked himself mentally. Stupid! He doesn’t want to hear your sob story, and you don’t want to tell it anyway. Move the discussion back to him.
“Do humans smell funny to you?” Turlough asked abruptly.
With a soft laugh, the Doctor shook his head. “Turlough you are endlessly surprising. That’s a very odd question. Funny in comparison to whom? They smell different from other species, but not necessarily unpleasant.”
“True. I didn’t mean to imply they smelled bad. I just wondered if you noticed it like I did.”
“It is different when one is around large groups of humans day in and day out as opposed to individuals for a limited time,” the Doctor agreed.
Turlough nodded enthusiastically. It wasn’t strictly the topic he wanted to discuss, but he had been curious for some time how another non-human would experience the things he had. “Oh, I agree. For example, I find Tegan’s scent agreeable…when she’s not overdoing the perfume, but on Earth I would avoid groups of females. Sometimes the combination of smells was dizzying.”
“Hmm, that’s interesting, because I always found their scent rather comforting.”
And back to the hook. “What about males?” Turlough asked curiously.
“What about them?”
“Human males,” Turlough prompted. “What do they smell like to you?”
The Doctor appeared to be trying to recall. “It’s been a while since I traveled with one. I think sort of warm and slightly damp…like dirt after the ground thaws in spring.”
Turlough was thrilled. “That’s what I thought! I always wondered how another ‘alien’ would describe it. Mind you, the males I found attractive had a slightly different note in their scent. More animal-like.”
Taking an academic interest, the Doctor speculated, “Pheromones maybe? Your species can sense them?”
“Maybe. Say, what do I smell like to you?”
“Ha! I have no idea. I don’t make a habit of sniffing my companions.”
“Humor me,” Turlough coaxed. “Come on, I’m not going anywhere.”
“All right, in the spirit of scientific inquiry,” the Doctor said lightly. He leaned over Turlough, which in turn gave Turlough the opportunity to take in his scent as well. He was silent for a moment.
“Well?” Turlough asked nervously. To his relief the Doctor smiled.
“We seem to be using the same shampoo,” he observed.
Turlough felt warmth in his cheeks. “We both have fine hair,” he sniffed. “It requires special care.”
The Doctor nudged his shoulder. “Just giving you a hard time. You smell much different from a human. It’s a curious clean scent. I’d say almost antiseptic, but there’s something slightly warm beneath that.”
“We sweat less,” Turlough explained. “So, not weird or anything?”
Rolling his eyes, the Doctor seemed utterly bemused. “You’re fine, Turlough. Honestly, you’re so self-conscious sometimes. Now, it did not escape my notice that you have apparently assessed my odor profile as well.”
Turlough grinned and batted his eyelashes. “Can’t put anything past you, can I? Your scent is difficult to describe. I want to say flowery because of how light it is, but it’s not perfumy. Actually now that I think about it, it reminds me of these green leafy plants we had all around the pal…place where I grew up. Very nice.”
“Glad you approve.”
There was an awkward silence, until Turlough piped up again. “So how did you keep them away?”
The Doctor seemed to miss the course change. “Pardon?”
“The humans. One thing I’ll say for Earthlings is that they’re persistent. Some simply won’t take no for an answer.”
A smile played at the Doctor’s lips, as if he knew exactly what Turlough meant. “I did have to…prevaricate on occasion.”
“How so?”
The Doctor was grinning widely now. “I recall telling a few admirers that I had been injured in a helicopter crash and was no longer able to…perform as it were.”
Turlough laughed out loud. “Doctor, that is fantastic! I can just imagine you telling some big-eyed dear in a minidress with huge hair, crushing her hopes for a liaison with the dashing Doctor Smith.” Turlough lowered his voice. “Did it work?”
“For the most part.”
“What’s that mean?”
With a wave of his hands, the Doctor deflected the question. “Nothing. Tell me, did you hate absolutely every minute on Earth?”
This time it was Turlough who was unprepared to have the conversation turn back to him. “Not really,” he granted.
“It seems you liked someone well enough to trust them with your safety.” Turlough looked at him, puzzled. “The bondage,” the Doctor reminded him.
Turlough’s face felt hot again. He’d almost forgotten his wrists were secured delightfully behind his back. “Oh, that. I had a kinky art instructor. He encouraged me to develop my talents in many areas. His office was in one of the older buildings. There were several deserted classrooms to use as our playground.”
“Risky...if you’d been caught…”
Turlough scowled. This was not supposed to be about me. “It was a risk I was willing to take. I resented having to pretend I didn’t want what I wanted.”
“One loves whom one loves,” the Gallifreyn observed thoughtfully.
Turlough snorted. “Save the fairy tales for children and females, Doctor. I’ve no illusions of what it was all about, and it wasn’t love. I’ve said already that my drives are strong. I can only survive on…” Turlough stopped, choosing not to finish the sentence as crudely as he had planned. Instead he looked the Doctor squarely in the eye. “One tires of playing with boys…” he said deliberately. “…and yearns for the company of men.”
The blond man's face was a mask of serenity. “Age and experience do have their benefits,” he said coolly. “As you will know in time.”
For the first time since the Doctor had bound him, Turlough felt constrained by the cords around his wrists. He ached to wrap his arms around the Doctor’s neck and pull the Time Lord’s body down onto his own. I’ll give you an experience, Doctor.
Without another word, the Doctor moved from his chair and knelt down beside Turlough. He reached behind Turlough, who held his breath, and tried not to shiver as deft fingers undid the knots they’d tied. “I think it’s time to say goodnight.” The Doctor’s tone was firm and Turlough knew he dare not push any further.
“Goodnight, Doctor.” Turlough shuffled off to his room. His hands were free, but chilled. Fortunately Turlough he knew exactly how he wanted to get them warmed up. I can make you want me, Doctor. Next time, you won’t untie me so quickly.