Fic - Unbound, Chapter 7
Title:Unbound
Categories(?):Smutty goodness, a touch of romance, humor, angst, BDSM
Rating: We're NC-17
Author's Note: Back to the smutty fun!
Unbound, Chapter 7
Over the next few weeks, as his hormone levels approached a comfortable equilibrium, Turlough found he was able enjoy the Doctor’s company once more without constantly undressing the other man in his mind. He struggled with bouts of anxiety, mostly brought on by thinking too much about the nature of his relationship with the Doctor. The Gallifreyan’s attention had come to mean a great deal to Turlough, and he didn’t want to risk losing it by demonstrating any sort of mental instability. He convinced himself the emotional turbulence and occasional night terrors were part of the transition into the second cycle. When the Doctor asked how he was feeling, Turlough would just smile. There’s no need to worry him. I’ll be fine soon.
After a typically harrowing adventure in a small English town, Tegan wanted to spend some time with her grandfather, so the TARDIS was parked for a short holiday. Turlough managed to be sociable for few days, but soon began making excuses to go off on his own. One evening the Doctor caught up with him outside the TARDIS. “We’ve been invited to dinner,” he explained. Turlough began to feel annoyed, until he saw the light in the Doctor’s eyes. The light he suspected shone just for him. “I told them we had plans.” The two men shared knowing smiles. “Where’ve you been?”
Turlough put on his innocent face while clutching a package behind his back. “Oh, around. Hitched a ride to the next town over, slightly larger Hodcombe or something like that.”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow, and moved closer to Turlough. “Anything interesting there?”
“Not particularly.” Turlough was secretive by nature, but on this occasion, his reservation seemed to bother the Doctor.
The blond man’s expression darkened. “So the reason you smell like alcohol and sweat is...?”
Turlough grinned sheepishly. “I stopped by the pub. All right, I lied to the kid from the 17th century. I like beer.”
The Time Lord muttered something under his breath and scowled. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you, Turlough?” He put his hands on the younger man’s shoulders and backed him up into the TARDIS all the way to the console. He moved his head alongside Turlough’s and inhaled deeply.
“Whoa, Doctor. What’s wrong? Are you smelling me again?”
“The scent of other men clings to you, Turlough,” the Doctor noted. His dark eyes were like burning coals.
“Ummm…” Have to think of a plausible explanation. Hurry. For crying out loud I’ve deflected attention from deliberately sabotaging the TARDIS with less hesitation. This man seriously unnerves me.
At once the Doctor released him, and his arms fell limp at his sides. “We’re done,” he said sharply.
Turlough’s heart dropped. “No!” he protested. “Doctor, let me explain.”
The Doctor turned and stalked down the corridor. “Save the excuses, Turlough. I suppose it was inevitable that you would tire of our arrangement. I had hoped that you would be mature enough to be direct about it. To break the only real rule I had - and to flaunt it like this…”
“Doctor!” Turlough dashed in front of the taller man, walking backward to prevent his retreat. “Stop. It’s not what you think.” The Doctor stopped, if only because he didn’t want to bowl Turlough over. Turlough knew it was going to take more than words to convince the Time Lord he’d gotten it all wrong. He dropped the bag he’d been carrying and took the Doctor’s face in his hands, kissing him with as much passion as he could muster on short notice. When he pulled back to catch his breath, he was pleased to see that the Doctor’s pale brow was a little less furrowed. Renewal of the lip lock seemed to relax the Doctor a bit further, and cautiously he began to return the kiss. Finally, when Turlough felt the Doctor was sufficiently calm, he reached up to tangle his fingers in fine yellow hair. “Now that I have your attention,” he whispered, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of the Doctor’s slightly bruised mouth. Wow. I did that. “Let me explain. I did go somewhere other than the pub. I went shopping.”
“Shopping?”
“Yes.” Turlough bent to retrieve the brown paper bag he’d dropped, offering it as proof of his sincerity.
“Where?”
Turlough bit his lip to keep from snickering at the Doctor’s pouty expression. If I’m half that adorable when I’m sulking no wonder he doesn’t take my foul moods seriously. “Someplace men go to buy things for themselves, and their partners, that they might want to show said partners later…in the privacy of their bedroom.” The Trion rolled his eyes. “It was going to be a surprise.”
Suddenly looking very embarrassed, the Doctor shuffled his feet a bit. “Oh, well, I suppose that would explain the smell. You didn’t…”
“No!” Turlough said emphatically. “I didn’t. I said I wouldn’t.” He tried not to let it show how much the Doctor’s lack of faith hurt, but it must have shone in his eyes, because the Gallifreyan reached out and gathered Turlough into his arms.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I went off like that. I suppose I was looking forward to spending the evening...just the two of us, and when I caught the scent of another I overreacted.”
Turlough tried to brush off the misunderstanding. I guess it’s all right that he cares that much. Why do I care how much he cares? “It’s okay to be a little jealous,” he conceded. “But, you can trust me.”
“I do. Really, I do. I’m very sorry.”
He really does feel bad for suspecting me of infidelity. “Hush. I accept your apology, and, if you behave just a little longer, I’ll show you one thing I bought.”
Putting on his most angelic expression, the Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and waited patiently to be shown what treasures Turlough had found in a dimly lit shop with dark paper over the windows. Turlough fished a small purple bottle from the bag and waved it in front of the Doctor, who looked slightly dismayed. “I can’t make out the label without my glasses,” he admitted. Turlough simply pushed the bottle closer to his face. Squinting, the Doctor could at least make out the silhouette of two people wrapped around each other in an intimate fashion. “Oh,” he said. Turlough almost saw the light bulb appear above the Doctor’s head. “Oh! I see. What else did you get?”
“Nosy! You’ll see soon enough. Come to my room in, oh, half an hour.” With a definite spring in his step, Turlough left with his bag of tricks.
--
Half-expecting the Doctor to tackle him before he got to the door, Turlough was pleasantly surprised to make it to his room unhindered. Good, I have time to set the scene. He dumped the contents of his shopping bag into the bottom drawer of his nightstand and commenced tidying the room; picking up junk off the floor and throwing it into the wardrobe or shoving it under the bed. Who knew I would be such a slob without a roommate? Privacy is well worth the price of having to pick up after oneself. On Earth I sometimes imagined what it would be like to have a place of my own. I could invite someone over… they’d stay the night- Lord, I’m thinking like a stupid girl. Next thing I’ll be looking for scented candles…which might be useful to cover that sock odor. No! I will not light candles. I will not put on music. This is not romance. It’s sex. Good sex to be sure, but that’s all it is.
He coaxed the TARDIS into circulating some air through the room and dimming the lights while he dashed to the bathroom for a quick shower. Upon his return, Turlough donned a pair of pajamas that he hadn’t worn since his first week on the TARDIS when he still cared how he might look if he ran into Tegan or Nyssa in the corridor at night. He stretched out on the bed and got in a few deep breaths before he heard a knock at the door. “Come in,” he said, trying to sound casual.
The Doctor stuck his head through the door. “Oh, well, if you’re already asleep.” He started to close the door.
“Get in here,” Turlough growled. When he opened his eyes he was amazed to see the Doctor clothed in something other than his usual cricket garb. Instead he wore a sort of woven robe with wide sleeves, and in one hand the Doctor was carrying a canvas bag.
Noting his companion’s reaction, the Doctor explained, “It’s laundry day again.”
“Of course,” Turlough muttered, already trying to figure out how much, if anything, the Doctor was wearing underneath the robe. Despite their varied encounters he had yet to see the Doctor completely uncovered. Maybe tonight’s the night. Clearing his throat, Turlough said, “I feel slightly overdressed.”
“You are. I’d rather you wore nothing.” The Doctor watched his normally unreserved companion begin to disrobe a little more slowly than usual. Turlough was grateful when the Doctor turned away and opened the canvas bag. Removing two hooks attached to what looked to Turlough like suction cups, the Doctor pulled the chair over from Turlough’s desk and stood on it so he could reach the ceiling. He then positioned the hooks approximately half a meter apart from each other.
Magnetic? Turlough wondered. When he seemed satisfied with their locations, the Doctor tapped the base of each. The cups glowed, affixing themselves to the ceiling with a THUNK. Curling his hands around both hooks, the Doctor pulled himself up off the chair, suspending himself for a moment before lowering himself to the ground. My, this is serious.
Glancing in his direction, the Doctor noticed Turlough was still wearing his pajama top. “I believe I said ‘nothing’, Turlough.”
Forcing his hands to remain steady, he pulled the shirt up over his head, twisting slightly to the left, hoping in the half light the Doctor might not notice the brand on his upper arm that seemed to Turlough to be glowing. Of course he’ll notice. He sees everything. Well then, I hope he doesn’t say anything. I doubt he’ll buy that ridiculous story about being burned in a boiler accident as a child. I’m only doing this because it’s him; because he asked me to. Willing himself to avoid touching the raised flesh, Turlough turned his attention to what the Doctor was doing.
The Doctor was pulling two more magnetic cups from the bags. These had circular metal bolts affixed to the bases. Once they were locked onto the floor, he began uncoiling a length of chain. Turlough’s jaw dropped, and his partner chuckled softly. “Here,” he said, tossing the bag to Turlough. “Put those on.”
Reaching into the dark sack, Turlough’s fingers closed around something soft. Bringing the unfamiliar objects into the light for a proper examination, he realized he was holding leather cuffs lined with some type of fur. Much softer than the belts. I guess, the two smaller cuffs are meant for my wrists and the larger for my ankles. Turlough fastened each around the appropriate limb, and was surprised that they made him feel very secure despite his nudity. He admired the contrast of the dark leather against his skin.
“Do you like them?” The Doctor asked, looking at him expectantly.
Turlough hummed contentedly. “Very much. Where’d you get them?”
“You’re not the only one who’s been shopping recently. I got them a while ago. I was just waiting for the right time to give them to you. They’re yours.”
Turlough bent his head forward as he felt his cheeks warming. I wonder if girls feel like this when they get jewelry. “Thank you,” he whispered, examining the chain and interlocking ring set-up the Doctor had created. “Exactly how much trouble am I in?”
“None yet. But it’s early. Please come here.”
There were times, when the Doctor spoke to him in that tone that Turlough worried he was being compelled. But deep down he knew the desire to obey came from within him, which satisfying somehow. He allowed each of his arms to be lifted in turn, watching as the heavy metal rings on the outside of the cuffs were attached to the lengths of chain hanging from the hooks in the ceiling. The near fulfillment of his first fantasies regarding the Doctor made Turlough almost giddy.
Turlough felt fingers tapping firmly against his shins, prompting him to stand with his feet hip width apart. Turlough’s ankles were then secured as well, his stomach doing cartwheels all the while. Catching him by surprise, the Doctor wrapped his arms around the Trion’s waist and embraced him from behind. Feeling the Gallifreyan’s cool body against his own was instantly calming. How does he do that? Is he doing anything at all? Probably just my imagination. I know I never felt like that with Granger; not even before he… Turlough shook his head lightly, trying to dislodge the unpleasant memory. It was a long time ago. It’s over and done. Why can’t I let it go?
Once more, his partner’s touch brought him some peace. Brushing his forehead against the younger man’s neck and shoulders, the Doctor asked, “You remember your word?”
“Yes, Sir,” Turlough murmured. “Brendon.”
The Doctor briefly pressed his lips against the back of Turlough’s head, then commanded, “Close your eyes and keep them closed.”
As he complied, he heard the Doctor move away from him. The bedroom door was opened and closed again. Turlough was indignant. Not again. Why does he do that? He counted the passing seconds, tapping out familiar rhythms with his bare feet on the cold floor. Five minutes passed and he was irritated. I hate it when he makes me wait! After ten minutes he was downright angry. He was naked, bound, and longing to be touched. Worry set in around fifteen minutes. What if he forgot about me? What if something happens to him and no one knows I’m here? Suddenly fearful, Turlough’s eyes snapped open. He opened his mouth to call for the Doctor, when he was startled by a presence in the shadows. “Gah!” he yelled as the man stepped forward. “What the hell? You scared the…” Turlough realized his mistake. “You never left the room, did you?”
“Tsk. Of course not. Leaving a bound person unattended is not acceptable. Even when you were in the cloister I had the TARDIS keep an eye on you. Then, as now, I wanted to test your patience.” The Gallifreyan sighed. “You were so close. It’s a shame, but I’m afraid close isn’t good enough. Now you’ve lost the right to see what’s coming.”
Sputtering, Turlough protested. “Oh come on. Give me another chance. I swear I can do it.”
The Doctor lips were pressed together in a thin smile as he removed the sash from his robe and stretched it out in front of Turlough’s face. He shuddered. “Please don’t,” he whispered. The Doctor remained perfectly still; his expression unchanging. Turlough knew he was waiting for the word, the only word that would keep him from putting on the blindfold. I’m frightened. But I shouldn’t be. I know the Doctor isn’t anything like Mr. Granger. He would never really hurt me. He couldn’t. Turlough closed his eyes, and gave a slight node, accepting the blindfold. I can do this. I can stay calm. This is my room, and he’s the Doctor. I’m safe with him. There is no reason to panic.
The Doctor adopted a pleasant conversational tone, as if they were having a civilized discussion of art or music. “Now then, where did you put your recent purchases?”
“Night stand. Bottom drawer,” Turlough spat, letting his displeasure show.
“Don’t sulk, Turlough. I know you were eager to show them to me, but now you get to help me identify them by touch.”
Turlough hummed thoughtfully. That might be fun. He heard the Doctor rummaging through the drawer, removing items, and tossing them on the bed, making comments as he did so.
“Lubricant…saw that already. Some sort of latex phallus…very detailed. Pornographic magazines…from Earth, from Alpha Centauri. Goodness, I don’t even recognize this species, and…no, that can’t be real. Turlough stifled a giggle at the Doctor’s detached manner as he rifled through his companion’s treasure trove of smut. When a smooth buzzing object was pressed to his side, the Trion squirmed. It tickled like mad. “Ah!” he exclaimed, trying to twist away, but of course he couldn’t go very far.
“This is all very interesting, Turlough. It occurs to me that you couldn’t possibly have purchased all these items today. The bag wasn’t large enough. Have you been…gathering supplies wherever we go?”
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Turlough confirmed the Doctor’s suspicions. “Yup. I’m a well-traveled pervert.”
“You’re not a pervert,” the Doctor murmured as he continued his excavation of the drawer. “Hmm, I have a vague notion of what this is for, but I’ll ask you to show me later so I can be sure. Why would anyone need this to glow in the dark? Come now, Turlough, there is no way you can fit this…or can you? Oh, I see. I was holding it sideways.”
Unable to contain himself any longer, the redhead began to laugh, and once he started he couldn’t stop. Picturing his sweet Doctor surrounded by sex toys and pornography was just too funny. “I’m glad you find this amusing,” the Doctor said, sounding irritable. “Now I feel no guilt at all about doing this.” Turlough yelped as his nipples were grasped between strong fingers and twisted mercilessly. The pain that wasn’t really pain had the predictable result of making him instantly hard. Then it was the Doctor’s turn to chuckle. “That’s better. Try to be serious for just a bit longer. Why did you go out today to buy more…things, if you already had a drawer full?”
Turlough struggled to think as blood flow was divided between higher functions and base needs. “Mostly I needed the lube - hate to run out of that at the wrong time - and you know how it is. You go to the shop for one thing and before you know it you’ve bought…”
“An inflatable sheep?”
“Exactly, er, maybe.”
“Really Turlough, there’s an inflatable sheep in here. I’m afraid to ask what you planned to do with the poor plastic creature.”
Turlough remembered. “Oh that. That’s strictly for amusement purposes. I thought I might put it in Tegan’s closet, or maybe leave it in the bathroom after I’d showered with my tie draped around its neck. The possibilities are endless.”
He swore he could hear eyes rolling. “Such an active mind, and you use it to devise ways of tormenting your friends.”
“You have to admit, the look on her face would be priceless.”
“No…maybe, No, no. Let’s get back to the matter at hand. Do you really need all this?”
Turlough tried to shrug, but with his arms mostly above his head it was a pointless gesture. “Not lately. But before you and I started…well, you know, I was more than a little frustrated. And I like variety.”
“I see.”
The Trion grinned. “You know, I didn’t buy all of them. Some I just found in my room.”
“You found rubber goods lying about the TARDIS and went ahead and got intimate with them?”
“Not lying around - just in my room. I assumed they were from the TARDIS. She’s amazingly intuitive. I didn’t want to be rude and reject her gifts. Besides, I got a charge out of imagining she, and maybe you, were watching.”
“You know, I’m going to have to agree with your earlier self-assessment. You are a pervert.”
“Mmm, thanks. You’re not half bad yourself.”
The Doctor chuckled in a manner that reminded his companion of a more evil Time Lord. “Oh, Turlough. It’s time I showed you exactly how bad I can be.”
--
Some indeterminable amount of time later, with the vibrating egg nestled under his scrotum, buzzing ever so lightly, Turlough no longer cared how bad or good the Doctor might be. As long as he keeps touching me. Still blindfolded, Turlough found it maddening that he couldn’t see the Doctor’s tongue moving lazily over his chest and stomach. Every so often, the Doctor would lay a stinging slap across Turlough’s buttocks. Pleasure and pain flowed together, completing a circuit that electrified his body and mind.
Keenly aware of a host of sensations, Turlough felt like every part of him was talking at once, each demanding immediate attention. Of course one part in particular cried the loudest, and that was the part his partner was carefully avoiding. Rarely had he been so aroused that he felt dampness between his legs. His face burned. If I was female there'd be a puddle.
The Doctor removed the egg, taking the time to fondle and squeeze Turlough’s testicles in wonderfully lewd fashion. The blindfold was removed, and Turlough blinked rapidly as his irises adjusted to the light. A bright pink tube was shoved in front of his face.
“What do you do with this?” the Doctor demanded to know. “Tell me quickly.”
“I-uh-put it between pillows and thrust into it,” Turlough answered honestly.
“Hmm, maybe later. What about this?”
Confronted with a reasonably life-like representation of the male genitalia, Turlough responded, “I like to put it in my mouth.” He thought he heard the Doctor purr.
The Doctor came around to face Turlough. His eyes are so bright, and his skin is as flushed as mine feels. Do I turn him on that much? He grasped Turlough’s chin with his fingers. “Open,” he said, tugging gently. “Show me how much you can take in.”
Turlough obeyed, allowing the Doctor to feed him the dildo inch by inch. It differed significantly from the actual act of fellatio, but it was thrilling all the same. “Hold it,” the Doctor ordered, and he let go. He stepped back, admiring the sight of his companion with his lips stretched round a fake cock, drooling over the hard plastic.
Behind him Turlough heard packages being ripped open, and knew the Doctor had selected one of his recent purchases. Another sound, this time the snap of a plastic cap. Turlough shivered expectantly. He did not have to wait long before feeling slicked fingers moving in the cleft between his buttocks. “Relax,” the Doctor instructed. He placed his left hand on a hip,, while the fingers on his right brushed against the opening to Turlough’s most intimate place. Breath quickened as the Doctor rubbed in tight circles for a few seconds before pressing a fingertip into the depression. He groaned, gripping the object in his mouth with his teeth so he wouldn’t drop it. Good thing this isn’t real.
Slowly, and with great care, more lubricant was worked past the tight ring of muscle guarding the passage. Then, gentle fingers were replaced by sturdy tapered latex. “Uhhhhh,” Turlough vocalized when the plug was twisted until it fit neatly into place. Keeping one hand on the base of that toy, the Doctor brought the other up to grasp the one in Turlough’s mouth, letting him relax his jaw for a bit.
“Remain still.” The Doctor began to withdraw the dildo from Turlough’s mouth, while he pushed the plug in deeper. Then the motions were reversed. Turlough felt like a receptacle for two different entities. As he fought the need to rock back onto the intruder his hips began to tremble. As he leaned his head back to relieve some of the tension in his neck, Turlough was possessed by a singular desire - to have the Doctor screw him senseless.
He tried to make eye contact with his tormentor, to plead for mercy. The vision before him: heavy-lidded eyes, perspiration darkened golden hair, the intense focused expression only confirmed what Turlough knew with complete clarity. I need him. I need him now. Abruptly, the Doctor moved away and he was left empty momentarily while the Time Lord lifted his robe up over his head and tossed it aside. “Please,” Turlough eked out, noting with slight disappointment that the Doctor’s lower body was still covered by a pair of dark blue shorts. The Trion’s eyes were drawn to the outline of the Doctor’s arousal, visible through the fabric. “Please,” Turlough repeated, even as he was filled again, this time with a larger object.
“Please what?” The Gallifreyan pressed his body flush against Turlough’s trembling frame, splaying his fingers across the younger man’s back while twisting the toy Turlough was very glad he’d bought on impulse. Cool puffs of breath escaped his slightly open mouth. “I’m wondering if you can orgasm from this alone, without me even touching your genitals.”
Turlough felt helpless. “No, I need…” he croaked when he was able to force sound from his throat. The Doctor ran his fingertips across Turlough’s lips as if he could draw out the words. “I need you,” the younger man confessed. His eyes felt wet and he wasn’t sure if it was from the sweat dripping off his bangs or the beginnings of tears. Something inside him threatened to break. “I need you in me.”
Strangely, the Doctor reacted as if Turlough’s statement caused him pain. He shook his head once. “N-No,” he murmured hoarsely.
Turlough’s mind was ablaze. I know he can feel how badly I need him to do this. “Doctor, please,” he begged feverishly. “Take me.”
Eyes shut tightly as if blocking something out, the Doctor refused once more. “Turlough, no, I can’t…”
“Goddammit, don’t make me beg any more! I’m so fucking ready.” The pricking sensation at the back of his mind was becoming unbearable. Turlough seized on it and pushed back against it instinctively.
A strangled cry burbled in the Doctor’s throat. Cursing in a foreign tongue, he moved swiftly behind Turlough. The Trion’s neck was bitten savagely as the Doctor rubbed frantically against his backside. Fumbling with the clasps and rings, he managed to free first Turlough’s hands, and then his feet.
Swaying until he got his bearings, Turlough watched as the Doctor tore the duvet off the bed, scattering toys and magazines all over the floor. Paying the clutter no mind, he pivoted, grabbed Turlough by the arms, and threw the redhead onto the mattress. Some tiny part of Turlough’s brain registered that he had never known a greater joy than being pinned beneath a writhing, panting, lust-crazed Time Lord, but that part was quickly silenced as coherent thought was burned black by desire. Gasping for air after a bruising kiss, the Doctor seemed to recover his senses long enough to ask, “This is what you want?”
Turlough said yes in English, repeated it in Trion, and proceeded to claw at the Doctor’s remaining garment until he ripped it off the body that he yearned to have inside him. The speech center of Turlough’s brain shut down briefly while all sensors registered Doctor-Naked-Oh My God. As if in slow motion, he saw the Gallifreyan apply a liberal amount of lubricant to his cock while lifting Turlough’s hips and draping his legs over his shoulders. The first forceful thrust made him cry out; his hips bucking and muscles clenching reflexively.
Shortly, Turlough didn’t think he cared to do anything other than this ever again. Unable to decide whether he was more likely to be driven mad by the long strokes or the hard, fast bouncing together of their bodies, he surrendered to the pressure growing in his belly. It pushed up and out of him, dragging hoarse shouts of triumph from his chest. The vibration of the body joined to his signaled the Doctor’s own climax. Together the two men spasmed and then struggled to breathe again.
When Turlough finally came to his senses, someone was wiping down the backs of his thighs with a cool washcloth. He felt fingers pulling at the cuffs on his ankles, and curled into a protective ball. “Mine,” he whined.
“Well then, I suppose I don’t need to ask if you’re awake. Are you hungry?”
Turlough sniffed. “Always. What a silly question. Might as well ask if I’m horny too.”
“Still? Well, I definitely, need fuel before that fire is rekindled. Come on then, I feel like cooking.” Turlough stood, yawning and stretching as he watched the Doctor pull on the robe he’d discarded. When moved to leave the room, stopped him. He cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Turlough’s still nude form.
“What? She’s not around and I’m not ashamed of my body.”
The Doctor shrugged. “Fine, but if you spill something hot in your lap, don’t expect sympathy.”
Turlough grumbled, and retrieved a pair of boxer shorts that had been wedged halfway under his mattress and slipped them on. “There, now I’m semi-decent. Feed me before I’m forced to gnaw off a limb for sustenance.”
---
Midway through a surprisingly edible dinner Turlough realized the Doctor was looking at him oddly. Instantly the Trion’s insides were in a knot. Have I done something wrong? Was I too weak - too alien?
He accepted the mug of tea the Doctor offered, staring into the swirling liquid; waiting.
The Doctor cleared his throat. “We should probably talk about…what just happened,” he said at last.
“Okay.” Turlough knew he sounded like a wounded child, but was simply unable to draw himself up. Déjà vu, he thought.
The Doctor looked at the ceiling as if he hoped to find the appropriate words written there. “That was…”
“Fantastic,” Turlough blurted out, then clamped his mouth shut.
The Doctor seemed surprised by the positive response. “Really? Because I thought…I thought perhaps I went too far.”
Turlough caught the touch of concern in his voice. “No, no, you didn’t. You took me where I wanted to go. Well, someplace I wanted to go, else I’d have said the word.”
“And I would have stopped immediately,” the Doctor promised. “It’s just that at the end things got a bit…”
“Frantic?”
“Yes. We hadn’t really discussed….”
Turlough sipped his tea, quite bemused by the Time Lord’s sudden reluctance to speak plainly. Shoe’s on the other foot now, isn’t it, Doctor? He said calmly, “Doctor, you saw everything in the drawer. At least half those things were made specifically to go where you went.”
A touch of pink colored normally beige cheeks. “Yes, I’m aware of that. I made use of a few of them. What I meant is that I didn’t know you wanted me to do that…be there…you know, this really is terribly difficult to discuss euphemistically.”
They both chuckled. “Yes, it is,” Turlough agreed. “You didn’t know I wanted you to penetrate me? Well, now you do…and you did. I’m glad you did.” Another pause was facilitated by the apparent need to drink the tea while it was still hot. “Erm, did you not like it?” He tried sound as if he had nothing invested emotionally.
Sipping from his own mug, the Doctor’s brow furrowed. “I did,” he said quietly. “I should think that was obvious. I suppose I didn’t realize how much I wanted to until you asked, and then you were all tied up.”
“Doctor, I thought that was the whole point of the game; for you to enjoy my body whilst I can do nothing to stop you…” His voice indicated false protest, but the Doctor was very serious.
“I would never force you,” he said coldly. “Not to do that, nor anything else.”
“I-I know that. And how could it be force if I’m asking you to do it?”
The Doctor shook his head. “It’s complicated. You affect me rather strongly, and I should have anticipated - exercised more control over my own desires. At the point you said you wanted me, it was difficult to distinguish whether it was what you wanted, or if I wanted you to want it. If I had misinterpreted the slightest action…” The Doctor’s hands were almost shaking and he hid them under the table. “I couldn’t bear hurting you,” he whispered. “It would be too awful. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No. No harm done,” Turlough reassured him. “Honestly, I’m fine. More than fine, actually. Don’t you know how amazing you make me feel? I never felt so good.” Okay, that’s almost going too far. Best change the subject quickly. A wicked idea popped into Turlough’s head. “You know, I’m feeling so good I think I’d like to take a walk outside. It’s a warm night, and I’m certain everyone in this little burg goes to bed at a respectable hour.”
The Doctor looked suspicious again. “What are you suggesting?”
Turlough walked to the control room, leading the Doctor by the hand. “The TARDIS is parked on the edge of town, and there’s a grove of trees less than one hundred meters away.”
“Why does this sound like a set-up for something I’m going to regret participating in?”
“Live a little, Doctor.” Turlough pulled up the lever that controlled the door. His partner stared at him, wide-eyed.
“Turlough! You can’t go out dressed like that.”
Looking down at his boxers, Turlough shrugged. “You’re right.” He slid them down over his hips and let them fall to the floor. “That’s better. Running naked through the woods is properly done naked.”
“Why the woods? And why will we be running?” the Doctor was very confused.
Turlough flashed a toothy smile. “I imagine you’ll want to catch me before I make it to the other side of the trees and head toward town,” he explained carefully. “If I got picked up by the constable, I might have to tell him how I escaped from a very bad man who tied me up and did terrible things to me.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I might,” Turlough warned, and then dashed out the door.
The Doctor grumbled, “Evil little…” and ran after him.
Categories(?):Smutty goodness, a touch of romance, humor, angst, BDSM
Rating: We're NC-17
Author's Note: Back to the smutty fun!
Unbound, Chapter 7
Over the next few weeks, as his hormone levels approached a comfortable equilibrium, Turlough found he was able enjoy the Doctor’s company once more without constantly undressing the other man in his mind. He struggled with bouts of anxiety, mostly brought on by thinking too much about the nature of his relationship with the Doctor. The Gallifreyan’s attention had come to mean a great deal to Turlough, and he didn’t want to risk losing it by demonstrating any sort of mental instability. He convinced himself the emotional turbulence and occasional night terrors were part of the transition into the second cycle. When the Doctor asked how he was feeling, Turlough would just smile. There’s no need to worry him. I’ll be fine soon.
After a typically harrowing adventure in a small English town, Tegan wanted to spend some time with her grandfather, so the TARDIS was parked for a short holiday. Turlough managed to be sociable for few days, but soon began making excuses to go off on his own. One evening the Doctor caught up with him outside the TARDIS. “We’ve been invited to dinner,” he explained. Turlough began to feel annoyed, until he saw the light in the Doctor’s eyes. The light he suspected shone just for him. “I told them we had plans.” The two men shared knowing smiles. “Where’ve you been?”
Turlough put on his innocent face while clutching a package behind his back. “Oh, around. Hitched a ride to the next town over, slightly larger Hodcombe or something like that.”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow, and moved closer to Turlough. “Anything interesting there?”
“Not particularly.” Turlough was secretive by nature, but on this occasion, his reservation seemed to bother the Doctor.
The blond man’s expression darkened. “So the reason you smell like alcohol and sweat is...?”
Turlough grinned sheepishly. “I stopped by the pub. All right, I lied to the kid from the 17th century. I like beer.”
The Time Lord muttered something under his breath and scowled. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you, Turlough?” He put his hands on the younger man’s shoulders and backed him up into the TARDIS all the way to the console. He moved his head alongside Turlough’s and inhaled deeply.
“Whoa, Doctor. What’s wrong? Are you smelling me again?”
“The scent of other men clings to you, Turlough,” the Doctor noted. His dark eyes were like burning coals.
“Ummm…” Have to think of a plausible explanation. Hurry. For crying out loud I’ve deflected attention from deliberately sabotaging the TARDIS with less hesitation. This man seriously unnerves me.
At once the Doctor released him, and his arms fell limp at his sides. “We’re done,” he said sharply.
Turlough’s heart dropped. “No!” he protested. “Doctor, let me explain.”
The Doctor turned and stalked down the corridor. “Save the excuses, Turlough. I suppose it was inevitable that you would tire of our arrangement. I had hoped that you would be mature enough to be direct about it. To break the only real rule I had - and to flaunt it like this…”
“Doctor!” Turlough dashed in front of the taller man, walking backward to prevent his retreat. “Stop. It’s not what you think.” The Doctor stopped, if only because he didn’t want to bowl Turlough over. Turlough knew it was going to take more than words to convince the Time Lord he’d gotten it all wrong. He dropped the bag he’d been carrying and took the Doctor’s face in his hands, kissing him with as much passion as he could muster on short notice. When he pulled back to catch his breath, he was pleased to see that the Doctor’s pale brow was a little less furrowed. Renewal of the lip lock seemed to relax the Doctor a bit further, and cautiously he began to return the kiss. Finally, when Turlough felt the Doctor was sufficiently calm, he reached up to tangle his fingers in fine yellow hair. “Now that I have your attention,” he whispered, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of the Doctor’s slightly bruised mouth. Wow. I did that. “Let me explain. I did go somewhere other than the pub. I went shopping.”
“Shopping?”
“Yes.” Turlough bent to retrieve the brown paper bag he’d dropped, offering it as proof of his sincerity.
“Where?”
Turlough bit his lip to keep from snickering at the Doctor’s pouty expression. If I’m half that adorable when I’m sulking no wonder he doesn’t take my foul moods seriously. “Someplace men go to buy things for themselves, and their partners, that they might want to show said partners later…in the privacy of their bedroom.” The Trion rolled his eyes. “It was going to be a surprise.”
Suddenly looking very embarrassed, the Doctor shuffled his feet a bit. “Oh, well, I suppose that would explain the smell. You didn’t…”
“No!” Turlough said emphatically. “I didn’t. I said I wouldn’t.” He tried not to let it show how much the Doctor’s lack of faith hurt, but it must have shone in his eyes, because the Gallifreyan reached out and gathered Turlough into his arms.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I went off like that. I suppose I was looking forward to spending the evening...just the two of us, and when I caught the scent of another I overreacted.”
Turlough tried to brush off the misunderstanding. I guess it’s all right that he cares that much. Why do I care how much he cares? “It’s okay to be a little jealous,” he conceded. “But, you can trust me.”
“I do. Really, I do. I’m very sorry.”
He really does feel bad for suspecting me of infidelity. “Hush. I accept your apology, and, if you behave just a little longer, I’ll show you one thing I bought.”
Putting on his most angelic expression, the Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and waited patiently to be shown what treasures Turlough had found in a dimly lit shop with dark paper over the windows. Turlough fished a small purple bottle from the bag and waved it in front of the Doctor, who looked slightly dismayed. “I can’t make out the label without my glasses,” he admitted. Turlough simply pushed the bottle closer to his face. Squinting, the Doctor could at least make out the silhouette of two people wrapped around each other in an intimate fashion. “Oh,” he said. Turlough almost saw the light bulb appear above the Doctor’s head. “Oh! I see. What else did you get?”
“Nosy! You’ll see soon enough. Come to my room in, oh, half an hour.” With a definite spring in his step, Turlough left with his bag of tricks.
--
Half-expecting the Doctor to tackle him before he got to the door, Turlough was pleasantly surprised to make it to his room unhindered. Good, I have time to set the scene. He dumped the contents of his shopping bag into the bottom drawer of his nightstand and commenced tidying the room; picking up junk off the floor and throwing it into the wardrobe or shoving it under the bed. Who knew I would be such a slob without a roommate? Privacy is well worth the price of having to pick up after oneself. On Earth I sometimes imagined what it would be like to have a place of my own. I could invite someone over… they’d stay the night- Lord, I’m thinking like a stupid girl. Next thing I’ll be looking for scented candles…which might be useful to cover that sock odor. No! I will not light candles. I will not put on music. This is not romance. It’s sex. Good sex to be sure, but that’s all it is.
He coaxed the TARDIS into circulating some air through the room and dimming the lights while he dashed to the bathroom for a quick shower. Upon his return, Turlough donned a pair of pajamas that he hadn’t worn since his first week on the TARDIS when he still cared how he might look if he ran into Tegan or Nyssa in the corridor at night. He stretched out on the bed and got in a few deep breaths before he heard a knock at the door. “Come in,” he said, trying to sound casual.
The Doctor stuck his head through the door. “Oh, well, if you’re already asleep.” He started to close the door.
“Get in here,” Turlough growled. When he opened his eyes he was amazed to see the Doctor clothed in something other than his usual cricket garb. Instead he wore a sort of woven robe with wide sleeves, and in one hand the Doctor was carrying a canvas bag.
Noting his companion’s reaction, the Doctor explained, “It’s laundry day again.”
“Of course,” Turlough muttered, already trying to figure out how much, if anything, the Doctor was wearing underneath the robe. Despite their varied encounters he had yet to see the Doctor completely uncovered. Maybe tonight’s the night. Clearing his throat, Turlough said, “I feel slightly overdressed.”
“You are. I’d rather you wore nothing.” The Doctor watched his normally unreserved companion begin to disrobe a little more slowly than usual. Turlough was grateful when the Doctor turned away and opened the canvas bag. Removing two hooks attached to what looked to Turlough like suction cups, the Doctor pulled the chair over from Turlough’s desk and stood on it so he could reach the ceiling. He then positioned the hooks approximately half a meter apart from each other.
Magnetic? Turlough wondered. When he seemed satisfied with their locations, the Doctor tapped the base of each. The cups glowed, affixing themselves to the ceiling with a THUNK. Curling his hands around both hooks, the Doctor pulled himself up off the chair, suspending himself for a moment before lowering himself to the ground. My, this is serious.
Glancing in his direction, the Doctor noticed Turlough was still wearing his pajama top. “I believe I said ‘nothing’, Turlough.”
Forcing his hands to remain steady, he pulled the shirt up over his head, twisting slightly to the left, hoping in the half light the Doctor might not notice the brand on his upper arm that seemed to Turlough to be glowing. Of course he’ll notice. He sees everything. Well then, I hope he doesn’t say anything. I doubt he’ll buy that ridiculous story about being burned in a boiler accident as a child. I’m only doing this because it’s him; because he asked me to. Willing himself to avoid touching the raised flesh, Turlough turned his attention to what the Doctor was doing.
The Doctor was pulling two more magnetic cups from the bags. These had circular metal bolts affixed to the bases. Once they were locked onto the floor, he began uncoiling a length of chain. Turlough’s jaw dropped, and his partner chuckled softly. “Here,” he said, tossing the bag to Turlough. “Put those on.”
Reaching into the dark sack, Turlough’s fingers closed around something soft. Bringing the unfamiliar objects into the light for a proper examination, he realized he was holding leather cuffs lined with some type of fur. Much softer than the belts. I guess, the two smaller cuffs are meant for my wrists and the larger for my ankles. Turlough fastened each around the appropriate limb, and was surprised that they made him feel very secure despite his nudity. He admired the contrast of the dark leather against his skin.
“Do you like them?” The Doctor asked, looking at him expectantly.
Turlough hummed contentedly. “Very much. Where’d you get them?”
“You’re not the only one who’s been shopping recently. I got them a while ago. I was just waiting for the right time to give them to you. They’re yours.”
Turlough bent his head forward as he felt his cheeks warming. I wonder if girls feel like this when they get jewelry. “Thank you,” he whispered, examining the chain and interlocking ring set-up the Doctor had created. “Exactly how much trouble am I in?”
“None yet. But it’s early. Please come here.”
There were times, when the Doctor spoke to him in that tone that Turlough worried he was being compelled. But deep down he knew the desire to obey came from within him, which satisfying somehow. He allowed each of his arms to be lifted in turn, watching as the heavy metal rings on the outside of the cuffs were attached to the lengths of chain hanging from the hooks in the ceiling. The near fulfillment of his first fantasies regarding the Doctor made Turlough almost giddy.
Turlough felt fingers tapping firmly against his shins, prompting him to stand with his feet hip width apart. Turlough’s ankles were then secured as well, his stomach doing cartwheels all the while. Catching him by surprise, the Doctor wrapped his arms around the Trion’s waist and embraced him from behind. Feeling the Gallifreyan’s cool body against his own was instantly calming. How does he do that? Is he doing anything at all? Probably just my imagination. I know I never felt like that with Granger; not even before he… Turlough shook his head lightly, trying to dislodge the unpleasant memory. It was a long time ago. It’s over and done. Why can’t I let it go?
Once more, his partner’s touch brought him some peace. Brushing his forehead against the younger man’s neck and shoulders, the Doctor asked, “You remember your word?”
“Yes, Sir,” Turlough murmured. “Brendon.”
The Doctor briefly pressed his lips against the back of Turlough’s head, then commanded, “Close your eyes and keep them closed.”
As he complied, he heard the Doctor move away from him. The bedroom door was opened and closed again. Turlough was indignant. Not again. Why does he do that? He counted the passing seconds, tapping out familiar rhythms with his bare feet on the cold floor. Five minutes passed and he was irritated. I hate it when he makes me wait! After ten minutes he was downright angry. He was naked, bound, and longing to be touched. Worry set in around fifteen minutes. What if he forgot about me? What if something happens to him and no one knows I’m here? Suddenly fearful, Turlough’s eyes snapped open. He opened his mouth to call for the Doctor, when he was startled by a presence in the shadows. “Gah!” he yelled as the man stepped forward. “What the hell? You scared the…” Turlough realized his mistake. “You never left the room, did you?”
“Tsk. Of course not. Leaving a bound person unattended is not acceptable. Even when you were in the cloister I had the TARDIS keep an eye on you. Then, as now, I wanted to test your patience.” The Gallifreyan sighed. “You were so close. It’s a shame, but I’m afraid close isn’t good enough. Now you’ve lost the right to see what’s coming.”
Sputtering, Turlough protested. “Oh come on. Give me another chance. I swear I can do it.”
The Doctor lips were pressed together in a thin smile as he removed the sash from his robe and stretched it out in front of Turlough’s face. He shuddered. “Please don’t,” he whispered. The Doctor remained perfectly still; his expression unchanging. Turlough knew he was waiting for the word, the only word that would keep him from putting on the blindfold. I’m frightened. But I shouldn’t be. I know the Doctor isn’t anything like Mr. Granger. He would never really hurt me. He couldn’t. Turlough closed his eyes, and gave a slight node, accepting the blindfold. I can do this. I can stay calm. This is my room, and he’s the Doctor. I’m safe with him. There is no reason to panic.
The Doctor adopted a pleasant conversational tone, as if they were having a civilized discussion of art or music. “Now then, where did you put your recent purchases?”
“Night stand. Bottom drawer,” Turlough spat, letting his displeasure show.
“Don’t sulk, Turlough. I know you were eager to show them to me, but now you get to help me identify them by touch.”
Turlough hummed thoughtfully. That might be fun. He heard the Doctor rummaging through the drawer, removing items, and tossing them on the bed, making comments as he did so.
“Lubricant…saw that already. Some sort of latex phallus…very detailed. Pornographic magazines…from Earth, from Alpha Centauri. Goodness, I don’t even recognize this species, and…no, that can’t be real. Turlough stifled a giggle at the Doctor’s detached manner as he rifled through his companion’s treasure trove of smut. When a smooth buzzing object was pressed to his side, the Trion squirmed. It tickled like mad. “Ah!” he exclaimed, trying to twist away, but of course he couldn’t go very far.
“This is all very interesting, Turlough. It occurs to me that you couldn’t possibly have purchased all these items today. The bag wasn’t large enough. Have you been…gathering supplies wherever we go?”
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Turlough confirmed the Doctor’s suspicions. “Yup. I’m a well-traveled pervert.”
“You’re not a pervert,” the Doctor murmured as he continued his excavation of the drawer. “Hmm, I have a vague notion of what this is for, but I’ll ask you to show me later so I can be sure. Why would anyone need this to glow in the dark? Come now, Turlough, there is no way you can fit this…or can you? Oh, I see. I was holding it sideways.”
Unable to contain himself any longer, the redhead began to laugh, and once he started he couldn’t stop. Picturing his sweet Doctor surrounded by sex toys and pornography was just too funny. “I’m glad you find this amusing,” the Doctor said, sounding irritable. “Now I feel no guilt at all about doing this.” Turlough yelped as his nipples were grasped between strong fingers and twisted mercilessly. The pain that wasn’t really pain had the predictable result of making him instantly hard. Then it was the Doctor’s turn to chuckle. “That’s better. Try to be serious for just a bit longer. Why did you go out today to buy more…things, if you already had a drawer full?”
Turlough struggled to think as blood flow was divided between higher functions and base needs. “Mostly I needed the lube - hate to run out of that at the wrong time - and you know how it is. You go to the shop for one thing and before you know it you’ve bought…”
“An inflatable sheep?”
“Exactly, er, maybe.”
“Really Turlough, there’s an inflatable sheep in here. I’m afraid to ask what you planned to do with the poor plastic creature.”
Turlough remembered. “Oh that. That’s strictly for amusement purposes. I thought I might put it in Tegan’s closet, or maybe leave it in the bathroom after I’d showered with my tie draped around its neck. The possibilities are endless.”
He swore he could hear eyes rolling. “Such an active mind, and you use it to devise ways of tormenting your friends.”
“You have to admit, the look on her face would be priceless.”
“No…maybe, No, no. Let’s get back to the matter at hand. Do you really need all this?”
Turlough tried to shrug, but with his arms mostly above his head it was a pointless gesture. “Not lately. But before you and I started…well, you know, I was more than a little frustrated. And I like variety.”
“I see.”
The Trion grinned. “You know, I didn’t buy all of them. Some I just found in my room.”
“You found rubber goods lying about the TARDIS and went ahead and got intimate with them?”
“Not lying around - just in my room. I assumed they were from the TARDIS. She’s amazingly intuitive. I didn’t want to be rude and reject her gifts. Besides, I got a charge out of imagining she, and maybe you, were watching.”
“You know, I’m going to have to agree with your earlier self-assessment. You are a pervert.”
“Mmm, thanks. You’re not half bad yourself.”
The Doctor chuckled in a manner that reminded his companion of a more evil Time Lord. “Oh, Turlough. It’s time I showed you exactly how bad I can be.”
--
Some indeterminable amount of time later, with the vibrating egg nestled under his scrotum, buzzing ever so lightly, Turlough no longer cared how bad or good the Doctor might be. As long as he keeps touching me. Still blindfolded, Turlough found it maddening that he couldn’t see the Doctor’s tongue moving lazily over his chest and stomach. Every so often, the Doctor would lay a stinging slap across Turlough’s buttocks. Pleasure and pain flowed together, completing a circuit that electrified his body and mind.
Keenly aware of a host of sensations, Turlough felt like every part of him was talking at once, each demanding immediate attention. Of course one part in particular cried the loudest, and that was the part his partner was carefully avoiding. Rarely had he been so aroused that he felt dampness between his legs. His face burned. If I was female there'd be a puddle.
The Doctor removed the egg, taking the time to fondle and squeeze Turlough’s testicles in wonderfully lewd fashion. The blindfold was removed, and Turlough blinked rapidly as his irises adjusted to the light. A bright pink tube was shoved in front of his face.
“What do you do with this?” the Doctor demanded to know. “Tell me quickly.”
“I-uh-put it between pillows and thrust into it,” Turlough answered honestly.
“Hmm, maybe later. What about this?”
Confronted with a reasonably life-like representation of the male genitalia, Turlough responded, “I like to put it in my mouth.” He thought he heard the Doctor purr.
The Doctor came around to face Turlough. His eyes are so bright, and his skin is as flushed as mine feels. Do I turn him on that much? He grasped Turlough’s chin with his fingers. “Open,” he said, tugging gently. “Show me how much you can take in.”
Turlough obeyed, allowing the Doctor to feed him the dildo inch by inch. It differed significantly from the actual act of fellatio, but it was thrilling all the same. “Hold it,” the Doctor ordered, and he let go. He stepped back, admiring the sight of his companion with his lips stretched round a fake cock, drooling over the hard plastic.
Behind him Turlough heard packages being ripped open, and knew the Doctor had selected one of his recent purchases. Another sound, this time the snap of a plastic cap. Turlough shivered expectantly. He did not have to wait long before feeling slicked fingers moving in the cleft between his buttocks. “Relax,” the Doctor instructed. He placed his left hand on a hip,, while the fingers on his right brushed against the opening to Turlough’s most intimate place. Breath quickened as the Doctor rubbed in tight circles for a few seconds before pressing a fingertip into the depression. He groaned, gripping the object in his mouth with his teeth so he wouldn’t drop it. Good thing this isn’t real.
Slowly, and with great care, more lubricant was worked past the tight ring of muscle guarding the passage. Then, gentle fingers were replaced by sturdy tapered latex. “Uhhhhh,” Turlough vocalized when the plug was twisted until it fit neatly into place. Keeping one hand on the base of that toy, the Doctor brought the other up to grasp the one in Turlough’s mouth, letting him relax his jaw for a bit.
“Remain still.” The Doctor began to withdraw the dildo from Turlough’s mouth, while he pushed the plug in deeper. Then the motions were reversed. Turlough felt like a receptacle for two different entities. As he fought the need to rock back onto the intruder his hips began to tremble. As he leaned his head back to relieve some of the tension in his neck, Turlough was possessed by a singular desire - to have the Doctor screw him senseless.
He tried to make eye contact with his tormentor, to plead for mercy. The vision before him: heavy-lidded eyes, perspiration darkened golden hair, the intense focused expression only confirmed what Turlough knew with complete clarity. I need him. I need him now. Abruptly, the Doctor moved away and he was left empty momentarily while the Time Lord lifted his robe up over his head and tossed it aside. “Please,” Turlough eked out, noting with slight disappointment that the Doctor’s lower body was still covered by a pair of dark blue shorts. The Trion’s eyes were drawn to the outline of the Doctor’s arousal, visible through the fabric. “Please,” Turlough repeated, even as he was filled again, this time with a larger object.
“Please what?” The Gallifreyan pressed his body flush against Turlough’s trembling frame, splaying his fingers across the younger man’s back while twisting the toy Turlough was very glad he’d bought on impulse. Cool puffs of breath escaped his slightly open mouth. “I’m wondering if you can orgasm from this alone, without me even touching your genitals.”
Turlough felt helpless. “No, I need…” he croaked when he was able to force sound from his throat. The Doctor ran his fingertips across Turlough’s lips as if he could draw out the words. “I need you,” the younger man confessed. His eyes felt wet and he wasn’t sure if it was from the sweat dripping off his bangs or the beginnings of tears. Something inside him threatened to break. “I need you in me.”
Strangely, the Doctor reacted as if Turlough’s statement caused him pain. He shook his head once. “N-No,” he murmured hoarsely.
Turlough’s mind was ablaze. I know he can feel how badly I need him to do this. “Doctor, please,” he begged feverishly. “Take me.”
Eyes shut tightly as if blocking something out, the Doctor refused once more. “Turlough, no, I can’t…”
“Goddammit, don’t make me beg any more! I’m so fucking ready.” The pricking sensation at the back of his mind was becoming unbearable. Turlough seized on it and pushed back against it instinctively.
A strangled cry burbled in the Doctor’s throat. Cursing in a foreign tongue, he moved swiftly behind Turlough. The Trion’s neck was bitten savagely as the Doctor rubbed frantically against his backside. Fumbling with the clasps and rings, he managed to free first Turlough’s hands, and then his feet.
Swaying until he got his bearings, Turlough watched as the Doctor tore the duvet off the bed, scattering toys and magazines all over the floor. Paying the clutter no mind, he pivoted, grabbed Turlough by the arms, and threw the redhead onto the mattress. Some tiny part of Turlough’s brain registered that he had never known a greater joy than being pinned beneath a writhing, panting, lust-crazed Time Lord, but that part was quickly silenced as coherent thought was burned black by desire. Gasping for air after a bruising kiss, the Doctor seemed to recover his senses long enough to ask, “This is what you want?”
Turlough said yes in English, repeated it in Trion, and proceeded to claw at the Doctor’s remaining garment until he ripped it off the body that he yearned to have inside him. The speech center of Turlough’s brain shut down briefly while all sensors registered Doctor-Naked-Oh My God. As if in slow motion, he saw the Gallifreyan apply a liberal amount of lubricant to his cock while lifting Turlough’s hips and draping his legs over his shoulders. The first forceful thrust made him cry out; his hips bucking and muscles clenching reflexively.
Shortly, Turlough didn’t think he cared to do anything other than this ever again. Unable to decide whether he was more likely to be driven mad by the long strokes or the hard, fast bouncing together of their bodies, he surrendered to the pressure growing in his belly. It pushed up and out of him, dragging hoarse shouts of triumph from his chest. The vibration of the body joined to his signaled the Doctor’s own climax. Together the two men spasmed and then struggled to breathe again.
When Turlough finally came to his senses, someone was wiping down the backs of his thighs with a cool washcloth. He felt fingers pulling at the cuffs on his ankles, and curled into a protective ball. “Mine,” he whined.
“Well then, I suppose I don’t need to ask if you’re awake. Are you hungry?”
Turlough sniffed. “Always. What a silly question. Might as well ask if I’m horny too.”
“Still? Well, I definitely, need fuel before that fire is rekindled. Come on then, I feel like cooking.” Turlough stood, yawning and stretching as he watched the Doctor pull on the robe he’d discarded. When moved to leave the room, stopped him. He cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Turlough’s still nude form.
“What? She’s not around and I’m not ashamed of my body.”
The Doctor shrugged. “Fine, but if you spill something hot in your lap, don’t expect sympathy.”
Turlough grumbled, and retrieved a pair of boxer shorts that had been wedged halfway under his mattress and slipped them on. “There, now I’m semi-decent. Feed me before I’m forced to gnaw off a limb for sustenance.”
---
Midway through a surprisingly edible dinner Turlough realized the Doctor was looking at him oddly. Instantly the Trion’s insides were in a knot. Have I done something wrong? Was I too weak - too alien?
He accepted the mug of tea the Doctor offered, staring into the swirling liquid; waiting.
The Doctor cleared his throat. “We should probably talk about…what just happened,” he said at last.
“Okay.” Turlough knew he sounded like a wounded child, but was simply unable to draw himself up. Déjà vu, he thought.
The Doctor looked at the ceiling as if he hoped to find the appropriate words written there. “That was…”
“Fantastic,” Turlough blurted out, then clamped his mouth shut.
The Doctor seemed surprised by the positive response. “Really? Because I thought…I thought perhaps I went too far.”
Turlough caught the touch of concern in his voice. “No, no, you didn’t. You took me where I wanted to go. Well, someplace I wanted to go, else I’d have said the word.”
“And I would have stopped immediately,” the Doctor promised. “It’s just that at the end things got a bit…”
“Frantic?”
“Yes. We hadn’t really discussed….”
Turlough sipped his tea, quite bemused by the Time Lord’s sudden reluctance to speak plainly. Shoe’s on the other foot now, isn’t it, Doctor? He said calmly, “Doctor, you saw everything in the drawer. At least half those things were made specifically to go where you went.”
A touch of pink colored normally beige cheeks. “Yes, I’m aware of that. I made use of a few of them. What I meant is that I didn’t know you wanted me to do that…be there…you know, this really is terribly difficult to discuss euphemistically.”
They both chuckled. “Yes, it is,” Turlough agreed. “You didn’t know I wanted you to penetrate me? Well, now you do…and you did. I’m glad you did.” Another pause was facilitated by the apparent need to drink the tea while it was still hot. “Erm, did you not like it?” He tried sound as if he had nothing invested emotionally.
Sipping from his own mug, the Doctor’s brow furrowed. “I did,” he said quietly. “I should think that was obvious. I suppose I didn’t realize how much I wanted to until you asked, and then you were all tied up.”
“Doctor, I thought that was the whole point of the game; for you to enjoy my body whilst I can do nothing to stop you…” His voice indicated false protest, but the Doctor was very serious.
“I would never force you,” he said coldly. “Not to do that, nor anything else.”
“I-I know that. And how could it be force if I’m asking you to do it?”
The Doctor shook his head. “It’s complicated. You affect me rather strongly, and I should have anticipated - exercised more control over my own desires. At the point you said you wanted me, it was difficult to distinguish whether it was what you wanted, or if I wanted you to want it. If I had misinterpreted the slightest action…” The Doctor’s hands were almost shaking and he hid them under the table. “I couldn’t bear hurting you,” he whispered. “It would be too awful. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No. No harm done,” Turlough reassured him. “Honestly, I’m fine. More than fine, actually. Don’t you know how amazing you make me feel? I never felt so good.” Okay, that’s almost going too far. Best change the subject quickly. A wicked idea popped into Turlough’s head. “You know, I’m feeling so good I think I’d like to take a walk outside. It’s a warm night, and I’m certain everyone in this little burg goes to bed at a respectable hour.”
The Doctor looked suspicious again. “What are you suggesting?”
Turlough walked to the control room, leading the Doctor by the hand. “The TARDIS is parked on the edge of town, and there’s a grove of trees less than one hundred meters away.”
“Why does this sound like a set-up for something I’m going to regret participating in?”
“Live a little, Doctor.” Turlough pulled up the lever that controlled the door. His partner stared at him, wide-eyed.
“Turlough! You can’t go out dressed like that.”
Looking down at his boxers, Turlough shrugged. “You’re right.” He slid them down over his hips and let them fall to the floor. “That’s better. Running naked through the woods is properly done naked.”
“Why the woods? And why will we be running?” the Doctor was very confused.
Turlough flashed a toothy smile. “I imagine you’ll want to catch me before I make it to the other side of the trees and head toward town,” he explained carefully. “If I got picked up by the constable, I might have to tell him how I escaped from a very bad man who tied me up and did terrible things to me.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I might,” Turlough warned, and then dashed out the door.
The Doctor grumbled, “Evil little…” and ran after him.