Staring Off a Cliff, Part 1/1
Title: Staring Off a Cliff
Author: radiantbaby
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Dr. John [Note: Dr. John was a David Tennant character in the “Reproduction” episode of “Love in the 21st Century”]
Word Count: 8457 [in Word]
Genre: Crossover Romance, with a side of Angst, AU, and a bit of Smut at the end.
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Post S3, pre-Unit Martha
Summary: Martha and John celebrate her passing her exams while learning a few new things about one another. Crossover of Doctor Who and “Love in the 21st Century”
Beta: The uber-wonderful persiflage_1!
Disclaimer: All your Doctor Who are belong to us Sadly, I own nothing related to Doctor Who et al, nor do I own anything related to “Love in the 21st Century” - I am just playing around in their sandbox for a bit of fun.
Warnings: Kink [light bondage]
Author Notes: So, this is the third in the series between myself and persiflage_1 featuring Dr. John and Martha. The first story is Three Words [by myself], followed by Doctors by persiflage_1. We have a few more stories in the works, so be on the lookout! Oh, and this story is a bit hard on our poor John, but I wanted to give him more of back story and this is what came out of my brain. Poor guy. I’m also still trying to find his voice, so bear with me - dialogue is my kryptonite [I suck at it]. Anyway, as always, thanks so much as always to the magnificent persiflage_1 who beta’d this piece! Any other mistakes are all mine. Feedback is happy-making, so please leave a word or two [even if I am a bit slack in responding, your comments always make my day].
===
Martha let herself into John’s flat. In the two months that she’d been with John, they had exchanged keys to their respective homes and, she had to admit that, though it was such a small gesture, it meant so much to her.
She even still vividly remembered the night she’d received a key from him. She remembered that as she held it that night - the metal ridges pressed tight against her palm - she mused about how she felt so much more visible than she ever had with the Doctor’s TARDIS key.
In fact, the TARDIS key had hid her from everything and everyone, even herself, in the end.
“Hello?” Martha called out in the hall, dropping her bag onto the floor and hanging up her coat.
She had arrived a bit earlier than she’d anticipated, but still basically on time for the two of them to meet up and go together to the dinner organized by her parents to celebrate passing her exams.
“In here,” she heard John’s voice respond and followed its origin down the hall into the living room.
Turning the corner into the room, she could see John’s back to her as he stood in front of the fireplace. He was barefoot and wearing just a pair of dark blue jeans and a white vest shirt. There seemed to be something tense about his posture, but Martha still made her way toward him.
Once behind him, she wrapped her arms around his chest from behind and nuzzled into his back. “Hello,” she whispered.
Martha could feel his breathing was deep and heavy and that he was making very faint noises that almost sounded like whimpers.
“John?”
Martha moved her arms, stepped back and moved around to his side to look up into his face and saw a sad far away look in his eyes and that his cheeks were wet from crying. She tentatively reached up to stroke some of the tears from his cheek, starting to feel a little unsettled herself.
It was unusual for John to be really upset about anything, at least in the time that she had known him. Sure, he had a fleeting moment when telling her about the baby he’d lost, but otherwise, he always seemed extraordinarily happy and easy-going with just about everything.
“What’s the matter, John?” she whispered.
John lifted a hand to wipe the tears from his face, reaching over to take the one she had cupped around his check to pull it down by his side. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect you so early,” he replied quietly, still just looking ahead and not down at her.
Martha wondered for a moment if he was always like this when she was not around and if the happiness was just a mask covering up something deeper. She shook her head quickly of the thought though, reprimanding herself for still letting her experiences with the Doctor - who hid his pain beneath a mask himself - color her perceptions on things.
“Why are you crying?” she asked, using the same soothing tone of voice she often employed with patients.
“I just, I suppose, I just - “ he started, but paused, his mouth moving but no sound coming out for a moment until he added, his tone still broken, “I was just triggered. It hasn’t happened in so very long. I thought I was past all of it. I thought I’d worked it out, but I guess, perhaps, the thought of meeting your family and then being in a new city, still feeling a bit outside my comfort zone, maybe I was a bit sensitive.”
“Thinking of meeting my family triggered this?” Martha asked, trying not to feel guilty that she might have caused him pain, however inadvertently.
John finally looked down at her and it seemed for a moment as if he’d suddenly just noticed she was there by the way his eyes widened and then his gaze suddenly softened. “Martha,” he breathed, turning to pull her into an embrace.
Martha held him tightly, still worried, but sensing that whatever was bothering him was inherently traumatic in nature. People don’t generally speak of “triggers” unless they’ve picked up that vernacular from counseling or therapy, especially in the case of PTSD. As a doctor and a survivor of her own trauma, she knew that she needed to let John speak in his own time and not push him too far too fast (especially in the middle of an episode).
“It’s not your fault,” John finally whispered, after the two of them stood there for a few minutes in silence just holding one another. “I can feel it - your worry, your tension - and I could hear it in your voice when you asked about your family. You think it might be your fault, but it’s not.”
His tone, while still sad, was sounding stronger and more lucid. Martha relaxed a bit more in his embrace.
“This is the first time I’ve met a the family of a girlfriend. I mean, I met Fay’s mum a few times, but hardly ever due to my hours at the hospital. Anyway, at first, I was just nervous, which is normal, of course. I want to make a good impression and all. But then,” he paused, sighing deeply before continuing, “then it got me thinking about my own family, especially my brother, and the trigger hit me hard out of nowhere, about ten minutes before you arrived. I’d hoped it would have passed before you got here. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“You never need to hide anything from me, John. I want you to know that,” Martha offered, rubbing his back. She was curious about his family, wanted more information, but again, she didn’t push.
John squeezed her tightly and then pulled from their embrace, leaning down for a quick kiss on her forehead. He then moved to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side, so that they faced the mantle again. “That is my brother William and I,” he said quietly, pointing at the picture in the middle of the mantle of two young boys.
Martha had seen the photo before, instantly recognizing John’s same smile in the boy on the right, but never knowing whom the taller boy on the left was. She had always meant to ask, but had somehow been distracted before doing so.
“He was 12 and I was 10 in that picture and,” he took in another deep breath, “it was taken about three months before he died.”
“I’m so sorry, John. I never knew,” Martha said, looking at the two boys smiling enthusiastically in the photograph, their arms around one another’s shoulders as they sat on a swing by a large tree. “Can I ask what happened?”
John squeezed Martha’s shoulders again, clearing his throat a little. His body was still a bit tense, but she noticed that he seemed to be relaxing more as he spoke. “We were out riding our bikes. It was a Sunday afternoon, nothing special about the day, really. I do remember it had rained earlier, but that was quite common, of course. Will was showing off a bit, as he’d recently received his bike as a gift for his birthday. He did love to show off, Will,” John laughed, “not in an annoying way, mind you. Well, not to me, at least. In a fun way more like. I absolutely idolized him, though, and he was so wonderful to me. We were really close - positively inseparable and thick as thieves.”
“Anyway, Will was riding closer to the road that we usually did, just laughing and singing, when seemingly out of nowhere a car lost control on the wet road and hit him. I still remember the smacking sound of Will’s body as it hit the bonnet of the car and how he went up and over it like a rag doll. Then there was a loud metal crunch as the car smashed into another one and,” John stopped, reaching forward to stroke William’s image in the photograph, “things are a bit hazy, but I do know everything was in chaos. I was screaming. The driver who hit him was in a panic. People were running about this way and that.”
“I held Will’s hand as he lay on the pavement, face covered in blood and his body mangled. I was screaming and crying, trying to get him help, wishing so much that I could just do something, anything, to help him. He’d always helped me in everything. He’d always picked me up if I’d fallen off my bike or just while we were playing, or if the kids at school gave me trouble, but here I was when he needed my help the most and I couldn’t do a damned thing! Finally, a shopkeeper nearby got an ambulance there, but while it was probably was ten minutes or so, it seemed like hours just sitting there helpless with my brother so very hurt before me.”
Martha reached up to stroke John’s back, letting him sort through the emotions he was feeling and the words he’d wanted to say. She was surprised he’d shared something so intimate and personal with her, so she wanted to make sure that he felt safe enough with her if he still needed to talk more.
There was a long pause in their conversation, until John let go of her shoulders and reached forward to pick up an ornately carved wooden box that had been sitting on the mantle next to the photograph.
“I rode along with Will in the ambulance to the hospital. I was in such a state, cowering in the corner like a scared animal, staring as the paramedics checked Wills vitals and set him up with an IV. One of the paramedics named James, I’ll never forget him, came over to me with a sad smile. ‘It’ll be okay,’ he said, putting a hand on my shoulder, ‘He’s in good hands.’ I asked what they were doing as I watched one of the paramedics using a stethoscope on him. ‘Checking his heart,’ James answered, pulling off his own stethoscope and putting it on my ears before putting the bell over my heart, ‘See? Can you hear your heart?’. I nodded, feeling a little intrigued by it. ‘Keep it,’ he’d said, ruffling my hair, and then went back to helping the other paramedics with my brother.”
John opened the wooden box and showed Martha the grey stethoscope curled up inside. “I still have it. I used it to distract myself from what was happening to Will on the ambulance, just as I would use it to distract myself for years to come. James knew that I would probably be fascinated with it - you know how the kids at hospital are just mad about them - and I thank him for it. Even though I kept it pressed to my own heart as I watched the paramedics working on Will, listening to my heart thudding so loud and so fast, I found myself distracted by wondering how it worked and wondering what exactly the paramedics were doing as they threw around this medical term and that one. It planted a seed, I suppose.”
John caressed the stethoscope for a moment and then closed the box, replacing it on the mantle. “Is that why you became a doctor?” Martha asked quietly, her tone still hesitant. Her experience with the Doctor made her reticent to ask too many questions of someone hurting.
“Yes and no,” he moved to pull her against him again, “Once at the hospital, Will died within about three hours. Even me with my new powerful stethoscope couldn’t save him. Mum and Dad were there by then and were just as devastated as I was when the news came. I still remember how Mum screamed and then starting shaking me, asking why I’d let him get hit by the car. Dad just got really quiet, completely withdrew from us. Things were never the same again. Dad left a few weeks later, just packed and left in the middle of the night, and we never heard from him again. I still have no idea where he is. Mum started to drink, all day and all night practically, crying and crying over William, sometimes blaming me for his death, sometimes blaming God, you name it. I acted out myself. Staying at home was such a nightmare that I wandered the streets at night, got in with a bad crowd, did some things I’m not proud of.”
John paused, running his hand through his hair with a shuddering sigh. “Finally, as a teenager, I was sitting with the old stethoscope in my room, just remembering it all and I just got so angry at myself. I tore apart my room in grief, thinking if only I had been a paramedic too, maybe I could have saved Will, maybe I could have helped him sooner. Sitting on the floor, the mess of everything strewn around me, I decided that I wouldn’t let anyone die in front of me again, that I wanted to become a doctor. I was idealistic back then, of course, I didn’t know yet that, just because you’re a doctor, you can’t save everyone.”
He laughed mirthlessly. Martha still said nothing though, remembering how many people she’d seen die before her (especially during that terrible year walking the Earth) and how she once too had thought she could save everyone and how much it hurt when she realized that she couldn’t.
“It was a goal, though, it was something I could finally focus on instead of Will’s death and the chaos of my life at that time,” he continued. “I started reading medical books from the library and even attempted to help Mum a bit as she started to progressively get really sick, taking care of her for about two years straight -- feeding her, caring for her…She ended up dying when I was 18, though, really did her liver in with all the drinking despite my protests for her to stop. She’d been dead for years though, really, just a hollow shell going through the motions once Will died. So, I packed up what little I had and moved down to Manchester with a mate of mine and shortly after was accepted into the medical program at the University of Manchester. Then I was at Manchester Royal Infirmary for training, then North Manchester General Hospital, then here.”
Martha moved to hold his hand. “Let’s go sit down,” she offered softly, nodding toward the couch.
John quietly walked with her as she sat down and he lay down beside her - his knees bent and his head in her lap. Martha just stroked his hair, trying to process the deeply sad story that he had just told her about his past. It felt strange for her to imagine him as such a troubled boy, especially as he always seemed so confident and self-assured these days.
She would have never guessed the tragedy he had been through and she wondered, for a moment, how easy it would be for him to see the tragedies she had been through herself - tragedies that she did her best to keep hidden behind a veneer of her own false self-assurance.
“I’ve never told anyone that,” John whispered softly, his hand clutching her knee. “Even with Fay, I asked her to name our baby after William. I told her that my brother had died and that it was important to me to name him after Will, but she never knew how he died, never knew the truth. Then the baby, a boy, died as well and that was that. I just never told her. I just…I try not to think about it or talk about it. Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago and I just want to move on from it.”
Martha knew exactly how he felt. While it had only been months for her since her own tragedies, she often wished that she could forget everything that happened, to reset her life to when it was happier and more naïve. Then she remembered how her experiences had also empowered her, how they’d made her the woman that she was today, and how forgetting them and all the people’s lives she’d touched would simply be unfair to the memory.
“What did you say to me that first night I was here? ‘It’s because we survive such things that we become stronger as people.’ As much as it hurts, it made you who you are today,” Martha offered quietly.
John turned onto his back to look up at her, smiling softly at her as she looked back at him, still lightly stroking his hair. He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek - looking so beautiful, yet so vulnerable to her in that moment - and spoke, “This really isn’t your fault, Martha. I can still see you blaming yourself in your eyes. Meeting your family would’ve come up someday and I want to meet them, I really do. I just can’t give you that in return. There is just me by myself.”
Martha clasped his hand on her face with her free one. “I’m probably going to regret saying this, as I can really put my foot in my mouth sometimes and I’d hate you to be angry with me, but, John, your brother’s death is not your fault. You were just an innocent boy. You did everything you could. You stayed by his side and you were a hero, really.”
A tear slipped down his cheek as he looked up at her, chewing his bottom lip. “I think I know that,” he said, his face brightening, but his voice still a bit hoarse with emotion, “but after so many years of being blamed and blaming myself, it’s so nice to hear otherwise.”
Martha leaned down to kiss him and then they sat quietly on the couch for several long minutes. “Thank you,” John finally whispered, sitting up and pulling her into a tight embrace.
“Of course, any time, really. You can talk to me anytime,” she replied seriously, before poking him in the chest playfully, ”Right, now, let’s get you dressed.”
“I have no idea what to wear,” he sighed, his expression now much more happy and relaxed, “I’m really rubbish at this whole dressing up thing.”
“Here,” Martha said standing and reaching for his hand, “let me help.”
“Oh, and I didn’t get to say,” John leaned down once he stood, kissing Martha on the nose before looking her up and down. She was wearing a mauve strappy sundress and purple heels. “You look absolutely gorgeous tonight.”
Martha blushed and laughed, but then led John down the hall to his bedroom and then over to his wardrobe. She opened the door and stood next to him before it, letting go of his hand to pick through the clothes he had.
“How about this?” she asked, holding up a light blue button-down shirt.
John simply shrugged in response.
Martha shook her head at him. “Okay,” she added, handing him the shirt to hold, and then turning her attention back to searching his wardrobe, “do you have any ties? I’m not seeing any, unless you have them hidden away somewhere.”
“The only ties I wear are ones that fasten me to bedposts.”
She looked up at him in surprise and he flirtatiously waggled his eyebrows at her. “Steady on or we’ll never make it to my parents’ house tonight,” she warned him, waggling her finger at him.
“Oh, all right,” he said with a playful pout. “No ties. I probably should buy at least one, but I’ve avoided them for this long - “
“How about this then?” Martha held up a soft brown v-neck jumper, “You could wear it over your shirt. Classy, but casual.”
“Whatever you say, Trinny,” he replied with a wink.
“Don’t get cheeky or I’ll pick something hideous for you to wear!” she said swatting him, though inwardly happy that his mood seemed to be much more cheery since they’d talked about his past.
Martha hung the jumper over the door of the wardrobe and then pulled the button-down shirt onto John. He smiled sweetly down at her -- watching her as she worked the shirt over his arms and shoulders - and she smiled back before looking down to start to slowly work on the buttons. Martha was halfway finished when -
“I love you,” John whispered, startling her and causing her to stop buttoning his shirt up.
Martha pressed her palms flat against his chest to steady herself, John’s words causing her to feel a bit dizzy and overwhelmed. She could feel his heartbeat - quick and strong - beneath her palm and noticed he was now trembling. She slowly moved to look up at him and was met with him looking down at her with trepidation, his eyes slightly wet with emotion again.
“Sorry?” Martha asked, worried she’d misheard him or perhaps even not heard him at all.
His voice had been so small, so broken, that it could have just been her imagination, she thought.
“I love you,” he repeated after clearing his throat, speaking louder, more confidently, this time, “I’m in love with you, Doctor Martha Jones.”
“I - “ Martha stammered, unsure of what to say as her mind filled with so many thoughts at once and so many emotions swept through her like a storm rising from beneath her skin.
She hadn’t expected his confession. Sure, their two months together had been happy and John had been giving and affectionate and, most of all, seemed to, at very least, enjoy her company, but Martha still was having trouble reading if he was actually romantically interested in her. In fact, until now, she’d second-guessed almost every touch, almost every word from him, thinking that perhaps he was just being nice, just enjoying someone to have sex with, or - like someone else so recently in her life - perhaps he was just using her to fill in a hole in his life caused by loneliness.
John pressed two fingertips lightly against her lips, interrupting her thoughts. “You don’t need to speak nor answer me,” he said softly, moving his hand to brush her lips softly with his thumb. “I just wanted to tell you. I just thought you needed to know.”
He then leaned down and replaced his thumb with his lips, kissing her lightly. “We should get going, I’d hate to be late meeting your family the first time,” he then added as he pulled from their kiss and walked across the room to his bed to begin to put his shoes on.
Martha wasn’t sure if he was disappointed in her or not, but she knew that she was disappointed in herself. For so many months, she had locked her feelings up deep inside herself, so afraid of being hurt again after such devastating events with the Doctor. She hadn’t been sure if she would be able to love again any time soon after she’d walked off the TARDIS - in fact she swore to herself that she’d never give her love so easily again - but every day with John was breaking down those high walls within her, brick by emotional brick.
No, she’d not anticipated meeting someone like John in this grand plan of hers - someone who fulfilled more needs of hers that she even dared think of and someone who really loved her and saw her and appreciated her. Someone, who despite her own defenses, despite her own mental protests and insecurities, she loved as well.
Martha turned around to look at John, sitting on the bed, tying up the laces of his shoes. She watched his long fingers shaking as they worked the strings and she watched him try to cover up the fact that, for whatever reason, he’d been absolutely terrified to say those words to her. Perhaps he hadn’t even meant to say them, but he did, and despite that fear, he moved through it and spoke his truth.
Martha suddenly felt so small for letting fear conquer her, when he’d just conquered his own so beautifully before her eyes. He had given her so many gifts that night - he’d told her of a past that he’d not shared with anyone else and he shared his feelings for her without a safety net of knowing if she even felt the same way.
She began to slowly walk toward him, pushing her own fears down. She’d conquered aliens, she’d conquered the Master, so she could certainly conquer -
“I love you, John,” she blurted out, her tone not as romantic as she might have hoped, but she still heaved a sigh of relief that the words were finally out there.
John stopped what he was doing at looked up at her, his expression changing from surprise to joy. Martha closed the distance between them to stand before him and he reached out to pull her into his arms, laying his head against her chest.
“I’m so sorry I hesitated,” she added with a whisper, reaching up to stroke his hair. “I was...afraid.”
John laughed lightly, muffled by the fabric of her dress. “I know what you mean.”
“It’s just…no one…no one has ever - “ she paused, the weight of realization that John was the first man to ever declare himself in love with her suddenly hitting her.
“Well, they should have,” he said, shifting his head so that he could speak clearly, “Besides, it doesn’t matter, I do. Me, here, now, I love you. More than,” he paused, swallowing hard, and then added even more quietly, “I think I’ve ever felt for anyone, if I’m honest.”
“Not Fay?” Martha asked, surprised. “Or anyone else?”
“Fay is the closet thing to a committed adult relationship I ever had, yes, but even there,” he paused again, his tone starting to sound more sad again, “I think we were mostly only together for the baby. I think I loved her, but, I don’t know, it certainly wasn’t like this. With you, it’s different, deeper…more frightening.”
“Like staring off a cliff,” Martha whispered.
“Yes, like staring off a cliff, knowing you need to step forward into the unknown, that it’s the right thing to do, but you are still absolutely terrified.”
“But then you see there is someone next to you who is just as scared,” Martha offered.
“Yes, and you look over at them, you take their hand, give them your best smile, and the two of you jump.”
---
Martha and John walked up to the front door of her parents’ house, holding hands.
Before Martha knocked, she turned to John, biting her lip nervously, and said, “I should mention that my parents knew that doctor I’ve talked about as well. In fact, I warned Tish that you look a bit like him as she can be a bit…dramatic and I wanted your first meeting with her to be a bit more toned down.”
“Does everyone know this doctor of yours?” John asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. Martha noticed his body stiffened a bit as well, though his tone of voice seemed to not betray any tension.
“Not everyone, trust me. Mostly just Jack and my family.”
“Well then, I almost feel like I need to meet him myself at this point. At least to alleviate all the curiosity I’m suddenly feeling about this mysterious doctor.”
“I - “
John reached up with his free hand to caress Martha’s cheek. “I’m only kidding with you. Yes, I’m curious, I’d be lying if I said otherwise, but anyone who has brought you this much pain is probably not someone I need to meet. Even if I do resemble him somehow.”
“Okay,” she replied softly before turning to knock on her parents’ door.
Martha could hear the loud chattering beyond the door get louder as the two of them turned to face it, holding tightly onto each other’s hands.
Suddenly, the door swung open and Tish stood before them, positively wide-eyed. “Hello, wow, he does, I mean,” she stammered as she looked John up and down, obviously noting his physical similarities to the Doctor. Martha shot her a disapproving look. “I’m sorry, hello, I’m Tish,” she finished, thrusting a hand out toward John.
“Hello Tish,” John said shaking her hand with a smile, “A pleasure. I’m John.”
“Come in, come in! Don’t leave them at the door all night!” Martha could hear her mother call out from inside.
Tish stepped back, letting the two of them inside before pulling her sister into a hug. “He’s really cute,” she whispered in her ear before they pulled apart.
Francine and Clive walked over to them. Clive was smiling widely at them, but Francine had a tight smile on her face. Martha immediately knew that something was wrong. She guessed from not seeing her brother about that it most likely had to do with him.
Some things never change, she thought to herself with a groan.
Martha hugged her parents, greeting them, before turning to introduce them to John. She could see the recognition of the Doctor’s attributes flicker in their eyes as they looked at him when shaking his hand, but thankfully, unlike Tish, they chose to keep it to themselves.
After the introductions, Martha took a hold of John’s hand again, hoping to perhaps anchor him amidst the whirlwind of her family (between them and Jack, John would certainly need the patience of a saint, she thought). “Mum, what’s wrong?” she then asked, sensing her mother’s tension, despite her trying to hide it.
“Leo, of course,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Clive led Martha, John, and Tish over to the couch to sit down, sitting next to them on a chair. “My brother,” Martha had mouthed to John as they walked, just in case he needed a reminder of who Leo was.
“What’s Leo done now, Mum?” Martha asked, letting her mother pace around the room. Everyone knew not to try and get her to sit when she was in these moods, so no one questioned when she didn’t join them on the couch.
“Late, of course. Late, late, late, as always,” Francine groaned. “Your brother will probably be late to his own funeral.”
Martha looked over at John, tightening her grip on his hand after her mother had said the words “brother” and “funeral” so close to their conversation about his own brother. She was worried her mother had inadvertently triggered him again, but when she caught his eye, he mouthed, “I’m okay.”
“He’ll be here, mum, it’s all right,” Tish said. “I think they’re just waiting on the babysitter for Keisha is all.”
“Can I get you anything, John?” Francine said, trying to change the subject and apparently calm down. Martha was grateful.
“I’m just fine, ma’am, thank you,” he said sweetly.
“Well, if you need anything, be sure to tell us,” Francine said, her demeanor softening, “Martha, can I borrow your help in the kitchen for a moment?”
“Of course,” Martha replied, patting John’s hand before leaving him with her father and sister.
Once in the kitchen, Francine crossed her arms over her chest and gave her daughter a speculative look. “Tish was right, he does look like the Doctor,” she said quietly, so the others wouldn’t hear them.
“So, Tish told you.”
“It’s your sister,” Francine replied with an amused smirk, “She probably told us within five minutes of hearing it from you.”
“She told Dad too, then?”
“Yes.”
“Well, thanks for not making him too uncomfortable by pointing it out. Between Jack and Tish, I think he might be getting a complex,” Martha said.
“He’s met Jack?” Francine seemed quite surprised.
Martha tried to hide the smile curling on her lips as she thought about her recent night with Jack and John, knowing her mother was the last person that needed to know of her sexual escapades (even if things hadn’t got very far with Jack in the end). “Yes, the night I finished my exams. He joined us for a small party for me.”
“Ah yes, that’s the week he came for dinner while he was in town. He said he saw you, but didn’t mention John.”
“Well, I guess he was just being discreet then, Mum.” Martha almost had to laugh at her own words, as stringing “discreet” and Jack together in a statement seemed terribly incongruous.
“Have you spoken with the Doctor yet?”
Martha blinked at her mother in surprise. It was rare that she even mentioned the Doctor since the events on the Valiant, especially recently. “No,” Martha replied quietly.
“I think you should call him,” Francine said plainly, “Tell him that you’re a doctor now.”
Despite herself, Martha felt a bit of anger welling up within her. “Why should he care?” she said, her tone somewhat harsh.
Francine’s eyes widened, but she stood her ground. “I just think he should know.”
“Mum, I’m not ready.”
“Obviously you are ready enough to date a boy that looks like him, though.”
“It’s not like that,” Martha hissed. “It’s not about how much he looks like the Doctor. He is not him and I know that. He is so much better, Mum!”
Francine smirked again at her daughter. “I was just making sure,” she said, her tone now soft and somewhat playful, “I didn’t want you breaking some poor boy’s heart for the wrong reasons.”
Martha calmed down, seeing how her mother was just testing her. Everyone in her family was sensitive when it came to the Doctor, so it made perfect sense that her mother would have to get to the bottom of why she was dating his doppelganger.
The two of them embraced. “I’m just looking out for you,” Francine whispered. “I just want you to be happy.”
Tish walking into the kitchen, her face bright with a wide smile, interrupted their embrace. Martha turned to look at her. “Where can I get one of them?” Tish whispered mischievously, pointing at the wall in the direction of John.
“Oh Tish, I hope you haven’t scared him off,” Martha said with a playful tease.
“Of course not, I’ve been good.”
“Good as in flirting,” Francine corrected.
“Mum!” Tish exclaimed.
“So, how is he doing out there?” Martha asked. “Is he alright with Dad?”
“Dad’s giving him the whole bad-cop treatment right now. He might as well have a spotlight on him,” Tish replied with a laugh, but when Martha looked worried, she added, “No, no. John seems to be doing well. I can tell Dad likes him.”
Just then, Francine’s mobile rang, so she walked out of the kitchen to answer it.
“He really does look like the Doctor,” Tish commented once their mother was out of the room.
“Trust me, I know.”
“I don’t blame you though. Good looks, great accent, I am positively envious!”
“Yeah,” Martha said, her tone suddenly a bit down.
“What’s wrong?”
“Mum wants me to call the Doctor. Tell him I passed my exams,” she replied with a frown.
“You don’t want to, though, do you?”
“Is it that obvious?” Martha asked and then the two of them shared a small laugh. “Really, though, I’m just so happy right now, Tish. I’m worried if I call him, it will only bring up a bunch of bad stuff and honestly, I just don’t want to deal with that right now.”
“Martha, you need to do what makes you happy and if that means not calling the Doctor, so be it. Honestly,” Tish put her hands on Martha’s arms, “I don’t remember the last time I saw you this happy. You are positively glowing! I’d hate to see that go away as well.”
“Thank you,” Martha smiled at her sister. “John is a really good man.”
“And great in bed, I’d wager as well,” Tish teased with a wink.
Martha swatted her.
“What?” Tish said in response, “I know what other things that sort of glow means!”
The two of them giggled as Martha blushed.
“That was your brother,” Francine said, interrupting them as she walked back into the kitchen. “The babysitter cancelled at the last minute, so Shonara is going to stay home with Keisha. Leo should be here within 15 minutes. I just hope they hold our reservation.”
---
As they approached Market Tavern for dinner, Martha began to feel a bit uncomfortable. She hadn’t been there since the Doctor had picked her up just outside on that fateful day she went to the Moon for the first time. She never told any of her family the exact details of how he’d been there that night, how he’d been leaning against the wall as they fought about Annalise, how she’d followed him down the alleyway, and how he’d showed her his magical time-traveling box and swept her away to that fantastic and dangerous life he leads.
Her family had been coming to the tavern for years, marking so many family events within those walls, now completely unaware of the new feelings the place brought up for Martha. She stayed quiet though, listening to her sister prattle on to John as they walked behind the rest of her family to go inside, and she wondered when she’d ever be able to discuss her own triggers with John. She spared a small glance at the corner, her heart catching for a moment as she remembered the Doctor standing there, and then made her way inside.
Things were definitely happier with this visit to the tavern. Despite Tish wanting to ride with her and John (as they followed their parents and Leo in Francine’s car) to try and escape what would mostly likely be a ride filled with Francine being a bit upset with Leo for being late, things had calmed down once they got there. Martha watched as her parents cuddled a bit in the corner of the booth, their eyes flickering with renewed love. She watched Tish and Leo play-fighting in the other corner as they laughed and drank and celebrated this new stage in her life. It made her feel so lucky to have them. For all their faults and loud, brash behavior, she was so happy to have them in her life again after the year that never was.
Martha then turned to look at John, who was smiling at her sweetly, and holding her hand. He was a man just as lost in the world as the Doctor in some ways, yet so vibrant and full of life despite his tragedies, and she knew as he looked into her eyes with an affectionate gaze she’d never seen from anyone else, how lucky she was to have him too.
---
“I hope Tish didn’t frighten you too much,” Martha said as they walked inside John’s flat.
They had been at the tavern for a few hours and were now starting to both feel pretty tired. Martha herself was a bit tipsy as well, having so many people buying her congratulatory drinks for the evening (John, her family, the bartender who knew her family, and so on), so John suggested they go home to relax.
“Of course not,” John replied, taking her coat from her and hanging it on the coat rack. “Why would she do that?”
“She’s just,” Martha pointed at him, her finger a bit unsteady, and her voice somewhat slurred, “a bit flirty.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he replied with a wink, taking his own coat off.
“I hate when she does that,” she said with a pout.
“Why?”
“She’s the pretty one and I just…with you…I guess it makes me a bit nervous, if I’m honest,” Martha replied, her insecurities getting the better of her with the alcohol sloshing in her brain.
“The pretty one, eh?” John asked, backing Martha against the wall in the hall. “I don’t know. I mean, she is nice-looking, but you, Doctor Martha Jones, are simply the most beautiful and sexy girl I’ve ever known.”
Martha had to stifle a laugh at how he kept calling her by the title of ‘Doctor’ since she’d passed her exams. He had just been so proud of her - congratulating her so many times and constantly telling her how brilliant she was - and it just made her feel absolutely elated.
John began to kiss her neck and she could soon feel his arousal pressing against her belly. She let out a moan in response. “Right, you’re just saying that to be nice,” she said. It was mostly a tease, but still tinged a bit with truth.
“Not at all,” he replied in between kisses along the column of her neck, “when I first saw you in the canteen, I thought, ‘Wow, I really need to meet her, she is absolutely stunning.’ Of course then you did me a favor and fainted, so I guess I got lucky.”
“Yeah, that was embarrassing,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Real sexy there.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” he countered, running his hands down her sides. “But then, I think you are just sexy all the time.”
“Even now, when I am tipsy?”
“In that dress, giving me naughty glimpses all night of your cleavage, showing me your beautiful legs. Yes, I would definitely say that right now you are very sexy,” he replied, nipping at her earlobe.
“Oh, John,” Martha drew out in a long breath, “make love to me.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied, stepping back and picking her up in his arms to walk her down the hall to the bedroom. It wasn’t something he did all the time, saving it mostly for when she was very tired or had been drinking, but there was something Martha always found it so romantic about when he’d carry her to the room.
Once in the bedroom, John carefully laid Martha down on the bed and then crawled over her, looking down at her from above. “It’s too bad you don’t have any ties,” Martha observed with a giggle.
“Sorry?” he said, confused, until their earlier conversation dawned on him. “Oh, you want to tie me up, do you? Or,” he rubbed his hardness between her legs, “do you want to be tied up yourself?”
Martha groaned, her body growing achingly aroused. “Both sound good,” she panted. “I’ve not done either,” she added, with a hint of a blush and an embarrassed squint.
“Really?” he asked mischievously, leaning to whisper in her ear, knowing when he did so it would send the most delicious shivers through her, “Well, it’s the evening of your celebration. If you had the choice tonight, which would you do?”
“But,” she countered, stopping to moan as he moved himself against her again, “you don’t have any ties.”
“No, I don’t have a tie,” he whispered, “But what I do have, Doctor Martha Jones, is an idea.”
“Okay Doctor John MacLachlan, what do you propose?”
“I propose, going over to my wardrobe,” he rubbed against her, “getting out my robe,” he then rubbed against her again, “and pulling off the belt from it to use. What do you think of that plan?”
Martha was starting to feel almost breathless with desire, but nodded her head quickly, whispering. “Yes, Doctor MacLachlan, I think that’s a good idea.”
John shifted off her and got up from the bed. Martha watched him as he crossed the room. She couldn’t help but stare at the evident arousal in his trousers and how his clothes hugged his body. They had been together several times now, but she still found herself so drawn to him, the excitement from the newness of sex with him not fading, but becoming even more enticing.
He picked up his robe from a shelf in the wardrobe and pulled off its belt. He then turned to her, holding it up between his fingers, “So, have we decided who gets tied up tonight, Doctor Jones?”
He began sauntering toward her, a sexy grin on his face. As she had said, Martha had never been tied up before and, while John was one of the few people she would trust with such a task, she’d barely been able to get the image out of her head of him tied up since he’d mentioned it off-handedly earlier.
“You. I want to tie you up.”
John raised an eyebrow in surprise and then sat down on the bed next to her. “As you wish,” he said. “Would you like to help undress me as you did such a lovely job dressing me earlier? I’d suggest at least taking this off now,” he pointed to his jumper and shirt, “getting them off once I’m tied up is pretty damned impossible. Trust me.”
Martha sat up next to him and pulled off his jumper. She then slowly began to unbutton his shirt, taking the same care as she had earlier. Once she slid it over his shoulders and pulled off his vest, she looked up at him somewhat shyly. “I don’t really know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to even properly tie you up.”
John lifted a hand to caress her cheek. “This is just really light bondage play. It’s very simple, I’ll even walk you through it. We can stop at any time.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll tell you to stop if we need. We can use what they call safe-words later if you need, but for now, this isn’t going to be so hardcore. Besides, I like the idea of you tying me up,” he said with a naughty wink.
“You just like corrupting me,” Martha corrected.
“Yeah,” he said with a puckish grin, “that too.”
“How should I start?”
John lay back on the bed, crossing his arms over his head between the bars of the headboard. “See the bars, just tie me to them.”
Martha sat beside him. “Any particular way?”
“Anyway you wish, for now. I’ll tell you if it’s too uncomfortable.”
Martha tied the belt around his wrists, securing him a simple knot. Once they deemed it was just right for what they needed, she began to take advantage of the supine man beside her. She began with teasing him with light touches all over his chest and arms, supplemented with soft kisses.
“One day we’ll have to try this with you blindfolded,” Martha whispered at one point and John moaned in response saying, “That’s the spirit.”
Martha eventually removed his trousers and underwear, taking her time to enjoy every inch of skin as it became exposed to her. So many times that they had been together had either been too quick for her to really explore him or had been focused more on him pleasuring her. She was excited now that she could finally give him the same pleasure, kissing his skin all over, delighting in the soft smattering of freckles over his body, until she finally took his cock into her mouth for the first time.
John groaned, his hips bucking up as she moved her mouth on him. She could feel him rattling the headboard, pulling against his bonds and panicked for a moment, before assuring herself that he would tell her to stop if he needed her to.
She enjoyed the feel of his silky skin as she moved her mouth along his shaft, flicking her tongue against him, and tasting his arousal. She was almost just as inexperienced at fellatio as she was with bondage, but John’s moans and whimpers showed he was enjoying what she was doing nonetheless.
“Oh yes, Martha, your mouth feels so good, so very good,” he whispered now and again, his hips lightly bucking against her mouth when she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock.
“St-top,” he finally stammered and Martha quickly stopped, worried she might have gone too far. She looked at him and he had a wide gratified smile on his face, easing her. “That was wonderful - really, really wonderful - but I want to be inside you and if you keep doing that - “
Martha smiled up at him, crawling over him to kiss him. He kissed her passionately and, while it felt strange to not have his hands in her hair as he so often did when they kissed, it still felt amazing.
After pulling from the kiss, Martha leaned over and pulled a condom from the bedside locker. She slowly put it on him, knowing he loved it when she slowly rolled it down his length. John closed his eyes from the pleasure, but quickly opened them as he felt her straddling him and slipping his cock inside her.
The two of them both groaned as he penetrated her to the hilt and John whispered, “I love you.”
Martha leaned down and kissed him, causing him to groan as she shifted on him, “And I love you.”
With that Martha started moving on top of him, watching his face contort in pleasure and him pull against his bonds as he bucked up against her. “You’re moving your arms a lot, are you trying to get free?” she asked, trying to sound more sexy than worried.
“I just,” he panted, “your breasts. I just want to touch your breasts.”
“My breasts?” Martha asked seductively, realizing he was all right, but feeling somewhat mischievous herself. She leaned forward, her breasts so close to his face, but just slightly out of reach of his mouth, “Why would you want to do that?”
She enjoyed watching him try to move his neck and strain against his bonds to kiss and lick her breasts and even moved a nipple into his mouth for a brief moment before pulling it away. They moved faster against each other, Martha still teasing him with her breasts, until she finally relented and let him suck and bite and lick one of her nipples until a shuddering climax hit her.
She called out his name again and again, seeming to trigger his own orgasm as he bucked wildly beneath her. He groaned and loudly called out her name, still licking her nipple between pants as his orgasm subsided.
Martha leaned back, trying to catch her own breath as she sat astride John. “Doctor Jones, you play dirty. I like that,” he said, breathlessly.
“Do you now?” she asked, moving her hips a bit to cause a tremor of pleasure to surge through him.
“Yes, and now I can’t wait to tie you up myself. I think I might need to enact some revenge.”
Author: radiantbaby
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Dr. John [Note: Dr. John was a David Tennant character in the “Reproduction” episode of “Love in the 21st Century”]
Word Count: 8457 [in Word]
Genre: Crossover Romance, with a side of Angst, AU, and a bit of Smut at the end.
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Post S3, pre-Unit Martha
Summary: Martha and John celebrate her passing her exams while learning a few new things about one another. Crossover of Doctor Who and “Love in the 21st Century”
Beta: The uber-wonderful persiflage_1!
Disclaimer: All your Doctor Who are belong to us Sadly, I own nothing related to Doctor Who et al, nor do I own anything related to “Love in the 21st Century” - I am just playing around in their sandbox for a bit of fun.
Warnings: Kink [light bondage]
Author Notes: So, this is the third in the series between myself and persiflage_1 featuring Dr. John and Martha. The first story is Three Words [by myself], followed by Doctors by persiflage_1. We have a few more stories in the works, so be on the lookout! Oh, and this story is a bit hard on our poor John, but I wanted to give him more of back story and this is what came out of my brain. Poor guy. I’m also still trying to find his voice, so bear with me - dialogue is my kryptonite [I suck at it]. Anyway, as always, thanks so much as always to the magnificent persiflage_1 who beta’d this piece! Any other mistakes are all mine. Feedback is happy-making, so please leave a word or two [even if I am a bit slack in responding, your comments always make my day].
===
Martha let herself into John’s flat. In the two months that she’d been with John, they had exchanged keys to their respective homes and, she had to admit that, though it was such a small gesture, it meant so much to her.
She even still vividly remembered the night she’d received a key from him. She remembered that as she held it that night - the metal ridges pressed tight against her palm - she mused about how she felt so much more visible than she ever had with the Doctor’s TARDIS key.
In fact, the TARDIS key had hid her from everything and everyone, even herself, in the end.
“Hello?” Martha called out in the hall, dropping her bag onto the floor and hanging up her coat.
She had arrived a bit earlier than she’d anticipated, but still basically on time for the two of them to meet up and go together to the dinner organized by her parents to celebrate passing her exams.
“In here,” she heard John’s voice respond and followed its origin down the hall into the living room.
Turning the corner into the room, she could see John’s back to her as he stood in front of the fireplace. He was barefoot and wearing just a pair of dark blue jeans and a white vest shirt. There seemed to be something tense about his posture, but Martha still made her way toward him.
Once behind him, she wrapped her arms around his chest from behind and nuzzled into his back. “Hello,” she whispered.
Martha could feel his breathing was deep and heavy and that he was making very faint noises that almost sounded like whimpers.
“John?”
Martha moved her arms, stepped back and moved around to his side to look up into his face and saw a sad far away look in his eyes and that his cheeks were wet from crying. She tentatively reached up to stroke some of the tears from his cheek, starting to feel a little unsettled herself.
It was unusual for John to be really upset about anything, at least in the time that she had known him. Sure, he had a fleeting moment when telling her about the baby he’d lost, but otherwise, he always seemed extraordinarily happy and easy-going with just about everything.
“What’s the matter, John?” she whispered.
John lifted a hand to wipe the tears from his face, reaching over to take the one she had cupped around his check to pull it down by his side. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect you so early,” he replied quietly, still just looking ahead and not down at her.
Martha wondered for a moment if he was always like this when she was not around and if the happiness was just a mask covering up something deeper. She shook her head quickly of the thought though, reprimanding herself for still letting her experiences with the Doctor - who hid his pain beneath a mask himself - color her perceptions on things.
“Why are you crying?” she asked, using the same soothing tone of voice she often employed with patients.
“I just, I suppose, I just - “ he started, but paused, his mouth moving but no sound coming out for a moment until he added, his tone still broken, “I was just triggered. It hasn’t happened in so very long. I thought I was past all of it. I thought I’d worked it out, but I guess, perhaps, the thought of meeting your family and then being in a new city, still feeling a bit outside my comfort zone, maybe I was a bit sensitive.”
“Thinking of meeting my family triggered this?” Martha asked, trying not to feel guilty that she might have caused him pain, however inadvertently.
John finally looked down at her and it seemed for a moment as if he’d suddenly just noticed she was there by the way his eyes widened and then his gaze suddenly softened. “Martha,” he breathed, turning to pull her into an embrace.
Martha held him tightly, still worried, but sensing that whatever was bothering him was inherently traumatic in nature. People don’t generally speak of “triggers” unless they’ve picked up that vernacular from counseling or therapy, especially in the case of PTSD. As a doctor and a survivor of her own trauma, she knew that she needed to let John speak in his own time and not push him too far too fast (especially in the middle of an episode).
“It’s not your fault,” John finally whispered, after the two of them stood there for a few minutes in silence just holding one another. “I can feel it - your worry, your tension - and I could hear it in your voice when you asked about your family. You think it might be your fault, but it’s not.”
His tone, while still sad, was sounding stronger and more lucid. Martha relaxed a bit more in his embrace.
“This is the first time I’ve met a the family of a girlfriend. I mean, I met Fay’s mum a few times, but hardly ever due to my hours at the hospital. Anyway, at first, I was just nervous, which is normal, of course. I want to make a good impression and all. But then,” he paused, sighing deeply before continuing, “then it got me thinking about my own family, especially my brother, and the trigger hit me hard out of nowhere, about ten minutes before you arrived. I’d hoped it would have passed before you got here. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“You never need to hide anything from me, John. I want you to know that,” Martha offered, rubbing his back. She was curious about his family, wanted more information, but again, she didn’t push.
John squeezed her tightly and then pulled from their embrace, leaning down for a quick kiss on her forehead. He then moved to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side, so that they faced the mantle again. “That is my brother William and I,” he said quietly, pointing at the picture in the middle of the mantle of two young boys.
Martha had seen the photo before, instantly recognizing John’s same smile in the boy on the right, but never knowing whom the taller boy on the left was. She had always meant to ask, but had somehow been distracted before doing so.
“He was 12 and I was 10 in that picture and,” he took in another deep breath, “it was taken about three months before he died.”
“I’m so sorry, John. I never knew,” Martha said, looking at the two boys smiling enthusiastically in the photograph, their arms around one another’s shoulders as they sat on a swing by a large tree. “Can I ask what happened?”
John squeezed Martha’s shoulders again, clearing his throat a little. His body was still a bit tense, but she noticed that he seemed to be relaxing more as he spoke. “We were out riding our bikes. It was a Sunday afternoon, nothing special about the day, really. I do remember it had rained earlier, but that was quite common, of course. Will was showing off a bit, as he’d recently received his bike as a gift for his birthday. He did love to show off, Will,” John laughed, “not in an annoying way, mind you. Well, not to me, at least. In a fun way more like. I absolutely idolized him, though, and he was so wonderful to me. We were really close - positively inseparable and thick as thieves.”
“Anyway, Will was riding closer to the road that we usually did, just laughing and singing, when seemingly out of nowhere a car lost control on the wet road and hit him. I still remember the smacking sound of Will’s body as it hit the bonnet of the car and how he went up and over it like a rag doll. Then there was a loud metal crunch as the car smashed into another one and,” John stopped, reaching forward to stroke William’s image in the photograph, “things are a bit hazy, but I do know everything was in chaos. I was screaming. The driver who hit him was in a panic. People were running about this way and that.”
“I held Will’s hand as he lay on the pavement, face covered in blood and his body mangled. I was screaming and crying, trying to get him help, wishing so much that I could just do something, anything, to help him. He’d always helped me in everything. He’d always picked me up if I’d fallen off my bike or just while we were playing, or if the kids at school gave me trouble, but here I was when he needed my help the most and I couldn’t do a damned thing! Finally, a shopkeeper nearby got an ambulance there, but while it was probably was ten minutes or so, it seemed like hours just sitting there helpless with my brother so very hurt before me.”
Martha reached up to stroke John’s back, letting him sort through the emotions he was feeling and the words he’d wanted to say. She was surprised he’d shared something so intimate and personal with her, so she wanted to make sure that he felt safe enough with her if he still needed to talk more.
There was a long pause in their conversation, until John let go of her shoulders and reached forward to pick up an ornately carved wooden box that had been sitting on the mantle next to the photograph.
“I rode along with Will in the ambulance to the hospital. I was in such a state, cowering in the corner like a scared animal, staring as the paramedics checked Wills vitals and set him up with an IV. One of the paramedics named James, I’ll never forget him, came over to me with a sad smile. ‘It’ll be okay,’ he said, putting a hand on my shoulder, ‘He’s in good hands.’ I asked what they were doing as I watched one of the paramedics using a stethoscope on him. ‘Checking his heart,’ James answered, pulling off his own stethoscope and putting it on my ears before putting the bell over my heart, ‘See? Can you hear your heart?’. I nodded, feeling a little intrigued by it. ‘Keep it,’ he’d said, ruffling my hair, and then went back to helping the other paramedics with my brother.”
John opened the wooden box and showed Martha the grey stethoscope curled up inside. “I still have it. I used it to distract myself from what was happening to Will on the ambulance, just as I would use it to distract myself for years to come. James knew that I would probably be fascinated with it - you know how the kids at hospital are just mad about them - and I thank him for it. Even though I kept it pressed to my own heart as I watched the paramedics working on Will, listening to my heart thudding so loud and so fast, I found myself distracted by wondering how it worked and wondering what exactly the paramedics were doing as they threw around this medical term and that one. It planted a seed, I suppose.”
John caressed the stethoscope for a moment and then closed the box, replacing it on the mantle. “Is that why you became a doctor?” Martha asked quietly, her tone still hesitant. Her experience with the Doctor made her reticent to ask too many questions of someone hurting.
“Yes and no,” he moved to pull her against him again, “Once at the hospital, Will died within about three hours. Even me with my new powerful stethoscope couldn’t save him. Mum and Dad were there by then and were just as devastated as I was when the news came. I still remember how Mum screamed and then starting shaking me, asking why I’d let him get hit by the car. Dad just got really quiet, completely withdrew from us. Things were never the same again. Dad left a few weeks later, just packed and left in the middle of the night, and we never heard from him again. I still have no idea where he is. Mum started to drink, all day and all night practically, crying and crying over William, sometimes blaming me for his death, sometimes blaming God, you name it. I acted out myself. Staying at home was such a nightmare that I wandered the streets at night, got in with a bad crowd, did some things I’m not proud of.”
John paused, running his hand through his hair with a shuddering sigh. “Finally, as a teenager, I was sitting with the old stethoscope in my room, just remembering it all and I just got so angry at myself. I tore apart my room in grief, thinking if only I had been a paramedic too, maybe I could have saved Will, maybe I could have helped him sooner. Sitting on the floor, the mess of everything strewn around me, I decided that I wouldn’t let anyone die in front of me again, that I wanted to become a doctor. I was idealistic back then, of course, I didn’t know yet that, just because you’re a doctor, you can’t save everyone.”
He laughed mirthlessly. Martha still said nothing though, remembering how many people she’d seen die before her (especially during that terrible year walking the Earth) and how she once too had thought she could save everyone and how much it hurt when she realized that she couldn’t.
“It was a goal, though, it was something I could finally focus on instead of Will’s death and the chaos of my life at that time,” he continued. “I started reading medical books from the library and even attempted to help Mum a bit as she started to progressively get really sick, taking care of her for about two years straight -- feeding her, caring for her…She ended up dying when I was 18, though, really did her liver in with all the drinking despite my protests for her to stop. She’d been dead for years though, really, just a hollow shell going through the motions once Will died. So, I packed up what little I had and moved down to Manchester with a mate of mine and shortly after was accepted into the medical program at the University of Manchester. Then I was at Manchester Royal Infirmary for training, then North Manchester General Hospital, then here.”
Martha moved to hold his hand. “Let’s go sit down,” she offered softly, nodding toward the couch.
John quietly walked with her as she sat down and he lay down beside her - his knees bent and his head in her lap. Martha just stroked his hair, trying to process the deeply sad story that he had just told her about his past. It felt strange for her to imagine him as such a troubled boy, especially as he always seemed so confident and self-assured these days.
She would have never guessed the tragedy he had been through and she wondered, for a moment, how easy it would be for him to see the tragedies she had been through herself - tragedies that she did her best to keep hidden behind a veneer of her own false self-assurance.
“I’ve never told anyone that,” John whispered softly, his hand clutching her knee. “Even with Fay, I asked her to name our baby after William. I told her that my brother had died and that it was important to me to name him after Will, but she never knew how he died, never knew the truth. Then the baby, a boy, died as well and that was that. I just never told her. I just…I try not to think about it or talk about it. Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago and I just want to move on from it.”
Martha knew exactly how he felt. While it had only been months for her since her own tragedies, she often wished that she could forget everything that happened, to reset her life to when it was happier and more naïve. Then she remembered how her experiences had also empowered her, how they’d made her the woman that she was today, and how forgetting them and all the people’s lives she’d touched would simply be unfair to the memory.
“What did you say to me that first night I was here? ‘It’s because we survive such things that we become stronger as people.’ As much as it hurts, it made you who you are today,” Martha offered quietly.
John turned onto his back to look up at her, smiling softly at her as she looked back at him, still lightly stroking his hair. He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek - looking so beautiful, yet so vulnerable to her in that moment - and spoke, “This really isn’t your fault, Martha. I can still see you blaming yourself in your eyes. Meeting your family would’ve come up someday and I want to meet them, I really do. I just can’t give you that in return. There is just me by myself.”
Martha clasped his hand on her face with her free one. “I’m probably going to regret saying this, as I can really put my foot in my mouth sometimes and I’d hate you to be angry with me, but, John, your brother’s death is not your fault. You were just an innocent boy. You did everything you could. You stayed by his side and you were a hero, really.”
A tear slipped down his cheek as he looked up at her, chewing his bottom lip. “I think I know that,” he said, his face brightening, but his voice still a bit hoarse with emotion, “but after so many years of being blamed and blaming myself, it’s so nice to hear otherwise.”
Martha leaned down to kiss him and then they sat quietly on the couch for several long minutes. “Thank you,” John finally whispered, sitting up and pulling her into a tight embrace.
“Of course, any time, really. You can talk to me anytime,” she replied seriously, before poking him in the chest playfully, ”Right, now, let’s get you dressed.”
“I have no idea what to wear,” he sighed, his expression now much more happy and relaxed, “I’m really rubbish at this whole dressing up thing.”
“Here,” Martha said standing and reaching for his hand, “let me help.”
“Oh, and I didn’t get to say,” John leaned down once he stood, kissing Martha on the nose before looking her up and down. She was wearing a mauve strappy sundress and purple heels. “You look absolutely gorgeous tonight.”
Martha blushed and laughed, but then led John down the hall to his bedroom and then over to his wardrobe. She opened the door and stood next to him before it, letting go of his hand to pick through the clothes he had.
“How about this?” she asked, holding up a light blue button-down shirt.
John simply shrugged in response.
Martha shook her head at him. “Okay,” she added, handing him the shirt to hold, and then turning her attention back to searching his wardrobe, “do you have any ties? I’m not seeing any, unless you have them hidden away somewhere.”
“The only ties I wear are ones that fasten me to bedposts.”
She looked up at him in surprise and he flirtatiously waggled his eyebrows at her. “Steady on or we’ll never make it to my parents’ house tonight,” she warned him, waggling her finger at him.
“Oh, all right,” he said with a playful pout. “No ties. I probably should buy at least one, but I’ve avoided them for this long - “
“How about this then?” Martha held up a soft brown v-neck jumper, “You could wear it over your shirt. Classy, but casual.”
“Whatever you say, Trinny,” he replied with a wink.
“Don’t get cheeky or I’ll pick something hideous for you to wear!” she said swatting him, though inwardly happy that his mood seemed to be much more cheery since they’d talked about his past.
Martha hung the jumper over the door of the wardrobe and then pulled the button-down shirt onto John. He smiled sweetly down at her -- watching her as she worked the shirt over his arms and shoulders - and she smiled back before looking down to start to slowly work on the buttons. Martha was halfway finished when -
“I love you,” John whispered, startling her and causing her to stop buttoning his shirt up.
Martha pressed her palms flat against his chest to steady herself, John’s words causing her to feel a bit dizzy and overwhelmed. She could feel his heartbeat - quick and strong - beneath her palm and noticed he was now trembling. She slowly moved to look up at him and was met with him looking down at her with trepidation, his eyes slightly wet with emotion again.
“Sorry?” Martha asked, worried she’d misheard him or perhaps even not heard him at all.
His voice had been so small, so broken, that it could have just been her imagination, she thought.
“I love you,” he repeated after clearing his throat, speaking louder, more confidently, this time, “I’m in love with you, Doctor Martha Jones.”
“I - “ Martha stammered, unsure of what to say as her mind filled with so many thoughts at once and so many emotions swept through her like a storm rising from beneath her skin.
She hadn’t expected his confession. Sure, their two months together had been happy and John had been giving and affectionate and, most of all, seemed to, at very least, enjoy her company, but Martha still was having trouble reading if he was actually romantically interested in her. In fact, until now, she’d second-guessed almost every touch, almost every word from him, thinking that perhaps he was just being nice, just enjoying someone to have sex with, or - like someone else so recently in her life - perhaps he was just using her to fill in a hole in his life caused by loneliness.
John pressed two fingertips lightly against her lips, interrupting her thoughts. “You don’t need to speak nor answer me,” he said softly, moving his hand to brush her lips softly with his thumb. “I just wanted to tell you. I just thought you needed to know.”
He then leaned down and replaced his thumb with his lips, kissing her lightly. “We should get going, I’d hate to be late meeting your family the first time,” he then added as he pulled from their kiss and walked across the room to his bed to begin to put his shoes on.
Martha wasn’t sure if he was disappointed in her or not, but she knew that she was disappointed in herself. For so many months, she had locked her feelings up deep inside herself, so afraid of being hurt again after such devastating events with the Doctor. She hadn’t been sure if she would be able to love again any time soon after she’d walked off the TARDIS - in fact she swore to herself that she’d never give her love so easily again - but every day with John was breaking down those high walls within her, brick by emotional brick.
No, she’d not anticipated meeting someone like John in this grand plan of hers - someone who fulfilled more needs of hers that she even dared think of and someone who really loved her and saw her and appreciated her. Someone, who despite her own defenses, despite her own mental protests and insecurities, she loved as well.
Martha turned around to look at John, sitting on the bed, tying up the laces of his shoes. She watched his long fingers shaking as they worked the strings and she watched him try to cover up the fact that, for whatever reason, he’d been absolutely terrified to say those words to her. Perhaps he hadn’t even meant to say them, but he did, and despite that fear, he moved through it and spoke his truth.
Martha suddenly felt so small for letting fear conquer her, when he’d just conquered his own so beautifully before her eyes. He had given her so many gifts that night - he’d told her of a past that he’d not shared with anyone else and he shared his feelings for her without a safety net of knowing if she even felt the same way.
She began to slowly walk toward him, pushing her own fears down. She’d conquered aliens, she’d conquered the Master, so she could certainly conquer -
“I love you, John,” she blurted out, her tone not as romantic as she might have hoped, but she still heaved a sigh of relief that the words were finally out there.
John stopped what he was doing at looked up at her, his expression changing from surprise to joy. Martha closed the distance between them to stand before him and he reached out to pull her into his arms, laying his head against her chest.
“I’m so sorry I hesitated,” she added with a whisper, reaching up to stroke his hair. “I was...afraid.”
John laughed lightly, muffled by the fabric of her dress. “I know what you mean.”
“It’s just…no one…no one has ever - “ she paused, the weight of realization that John was the first man to ever declare himself in love with her suddenly hitting her.
“Well, they should have,” he said, shifting his head so that he could speak clearly, “Besides, it doesn’t matter, I do. Me, here, now, I love you. More than,” he paused, swallowing hard, and then added even more quietly, “I think I’ve ever felt for anyone, if I’m honest.”
“Not Fay?” Martha asked, surprised. “Or anyone else?”
“Fay is the closet thing to a committed adult relationship I ever had, yes, but even there,” he paused again, his tone starting to sound more sad again, “I think we were mostly only together for the baby. I think I loved her, but, I don’t know, it certainly wasn’t like this. With you, it’s different, deeper…more frightening.”
“Like staring off a cliff,” Martha whispered.
“Yes, like staring off a cliff, knowing you need to step forward into the unknown, that it’s the right thing to do, but you are still absolutely terrified.”
“But then you see there is someone next to you who is just as scared,” Martha offered.
“Yes, and you look over at them, you take their hand, give them your best smile, and the two of you jump.”
---
Martha and John walked up to the front door of her parents’ house, holding hands.
Before Martha knocked, she turned to John, biting her lip nervously, and said, “I should mention that my parents knew that doctor I’ve talked about as well. In fact, I warned Tish that you look a bit like him as she can be a bit…dramatic and I wanted your first meeting with her to be a bit more toned down.”
“Does everyone know this doctor of yours?” John asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. Martha noticed his body stiffened a bit as well, though his tone of voice seemed to not betray any tension.
“Not everyone, trust me. Mostly just Jack and my family.”
“Well then, I almost feel like I need to meet him myself at this point. At least to alleviate all the curiosity I’m suddenly feeling about this mysterious doctor.”
“I - “
John reached up with his free hand to caress Martha’s cheek. “I’m only kidding with you. Yes, I’m curious, I’d be lying if I said otherwise, but anyone who has brought you this much pain is probably not someone I need to meet. Even if I do resemble him somehow.”
“Okay,” she replied softly before turning to knock on her parents’ door.
Martha could hear the loud chattering beyond the door get louder as the two of them turned to face it, holding tightly onto each other’s hands.
Suddenly, the door swung open and Tish stood before them, positively wide-eyed. “Hello, wow, he does, I mean,” she stammered as she looked John up and down, obviously noting his physical similarities to the Doctor. Martha shot her a disapproving look. “I’m sorry, hello, I’m Tish,” she finished, thrusting a hand out toward John.
“Hello Tish,” John said shaking her hand with a smile, “A pleasure. I’m John.”
“Come in, come in! Don’t leave them at the door all night!” Martha could hear her mother call out from inside.
Tish stepped back, letting the two of them inside before pulling her sister into a hug. “He’s really cute,” she whispered in her ear before they pulled apart.
Francine and Clive walked over to them. Clive was smiling widely at them, but Francine had a tight smile on her face. Martha immediately knew that something was wrong. She guessed from not seeing her brother about that it most likely had to do with him.
Some things never change, she thought to herself with a groan.
Martha hugged her parents, greeting them, before turning to introduce them to John. She could see the recognition of the Doctor’s attributes flicker in their eyes as they looked at him when shaking his hand, but thankfully, unlike Tish, they chose to keep it to themselves.
After the introductions, Martha took a hold of John’s hand again, hoping to perhaps anchor him amidst the whirlwind of her family (between them and Jack, John would certainly need the patience of a saint, she thought). “Mum, what’s wrong?” she then asked, sensing her mother’s tension, despite her trying to hide it.
“Leo, of course,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Clive led Martha, John, and Tish over to the couch to sit down, sitting next to them on a chair. “My brother,” Martha had mouthed to John as they walked, just in case he needed a reminder of who Leo was.
“What’s Leo done now, Mum?” Martha asked, letting her mother pace around the room. Everyone knew not to try and get her to sit when she was in these moods, so no one questioned when she didn’t join them on the couch.
“Late, of course. Late, late, late, as always,” Francine groaned. “Your brother will probably be late to his own funeral.”
Martha looked over at John, tightening her grip on his hand after her mother had said the words “brother” and “funeral” so close to their conversation about his own brother. She was worried her mother had inadvertently triggered him again, but when she caught his eye, he mouthed, “I’m okay.”
“He’ll be here, mum, it’s all right,” Tish said. “I think they’re just waiting on the babysitter for Keisha is all.”
“Can I get you anything, John?” Francine said, trying to change the subject and apparently calm down. Martha was grateful.
“I’m just fine, ma’am, thank you,” he said sweetly.
“Well, if you need anything, be sure to tell us,” Francine said, her demeanor softening, “Martha, can I borrow your help in the kitchen for a moment?”
“Of course,” Martha replied, patting John’s hand before leaving him with her father and sister.
Once in the kitchen, Francine crossed her arms over her chest and gave her daughter a speculative look. “Tish was right, he does look like the Doctor,” she said quietly, so the others wouldn’t hear them.
“So, Tish told you.”
“It’s your sister,” Francine replied with an amused smirk, “She probably told us within five minutes of hearing it from you.”
“She told Dad too, then?”
“Yes.”
“Well, thanks for not making him too uncomfortable by pointing it out. Between Jack and Tish, I think he might be getting a complex,” Martha said.
“He’s met Jack?” Francine seemed quite surprised.
Martha tried to hide the smile curling on her lips as she thought about her recent night with Jack and John, knowing her mother was the last person that needed to know of her sexual escapades (even if things hadn’t got very far with Jack in the end). “Yes, the night I finished my exams. He joined us for a small party for me.”
“Ah yes, that’s the week he came for dinner while he was in town. He said he saw you, but didn’t mention John.”
“Well, I guess he was just being discreet then, Mum.” Martha almost had to laugh at her own words, as stringing “discreet” and Jack together in a statement seemed terribly incongruous.
“Have you spoken with the Doctor yet?”
Martha blinked at her mother in surprise. It was rare that she even mentioned the Doctor since the events on the Valiant, especially recently. “No,” Martha replied quietly.
“I think you should call him,” Francine said plainly, “Tell him that you’re a doctor now.”
Despite herself, Martha felt a bit of anger welling up within her. “Why should he care?” she said, her tone somewhat harsh.
Francine’s eyes widened, but she stood her ground. “I just think he should know.”
“Mum, I’m not ready.”
“Obviously you are ready enough to date a boy that looks like him, though.”
“It’s not like that,” Martha hissed. “It’s not about how much he looks like the Doctor. He is not him and I know that. He is so much better, Mum!”
Francine smirked again at her daughter. “I was just making sure,” she said, her tone now soft and somewhat playful, “I didn’t want you breaking some poor boy’s heart for the wrong reasons.”
Martha calmed down, seeing how her mother was just testing her. Everyone in her family was sensitive when it came to the Doctor, so it made perfect sense that her mother would have to get to the bottom of why she was dating his doppelganger.
The two of them embraced. “I’m just looking out for you,” Francine whispered. “I just want you to be happy.”
Tish walking into the kitchen, her face bright with a wide smile, interrupted their embrace. Martha turned to look at her. “Where can I get one of them?” Tish whispered mischievously, pointing at the wall in the direction of John.
“Oh Tish, I hope you haven’t scared him off,” Martha said with a playful tease.
“Of course not, I’ve been good.”
“Good as in flirting,” Francine corrected.
“Mum!” Tish exclaimed.
“So, how is he doing out there?” Martha asked. “Is he alright with Dad?”
“Dad’s giving him the whole bad-cop treatment right now. He might as well have a spotlight on him,” Tish replied with a laugh, but when Martha looked worried, she added, “No, no. John seems to be doing well. I can tell Dad likes him.”
Just then, Francine’s mobile rang, so she walked out of the kitchen to answer it.
“He really does look like the Doctor,” Tish commented once their mother was out of the room.
“Trust me, I know.”
“I don’t blame you though. Good looks, great accent, I am positively envious!”
“Yeah,” Martha said, her tone suddenly a bit down.
“What’s wrong?”
“Mum wants me to call the Doctor. Tell him I passed my exams,” she replied with a frown.
“You don’t want to, though, do you?”
“Is it that obvious?” Martha asked and then the two of them shared a small laugh. “Really, though, I’m just so happy right now, Tish. I’m worried if I call him, it will only bring up a bunch of bad stuff and honestly, I just don’t want to deal with that right now.”
“Martha, you need to do what makes you happy and if that means not calling the Doctor, so be it. Honestly,” Tish put her hands on Martha’s arms, “I don’t remember the last time I saw you this happy. You are positively glowing! I’d hate to see that go away as well.”
“Thank you,” Martha smiled at her sister. “John is a really good man.”
“And great in bed, I’d wager as well,” Tish teased with a wink.
Martha swatted her.
“What?” Tish said in response, “I know what other things that sort of glow means!”
The two of them giggled as Martha blushed.
“That was your brother,” Francine said, interrupting them as she walked back into the kitchen. “The babysitter cancelled at the last minute, so Shonara is going to stay home with Keisha. Leo should be here within 15 minutes. I just hope they hold our reservation.”
---
As they approached Market Tavern for dinner, Martha began to feel a bit uncomfortable. She hadn’t been there since the Doctor had picked her up just outside on that fateful day she went to the Moon for the first time. She never told any of her family the exact details of how he’d been there that night, how he’d been leaning against the wall as they fought about Annalise, how she’d followed him down the alleyway, and how he’d showed her his magical time-traveling box and swept her away to that fantastic and dangerous life he leads.
Her family had been coming to the tavern for years, marking so many family events within those walls, now completely unaware of the new feelings the place brought up for Martha. She stayed quiet though, listening to her sister prattle on to John as they walked behind the rest of her family to go inside, and she wondered when she’d ever be able to discuss her own triggers with John. She spared a small glance at the corner, her heart catching for a moment as she remembered the Doctor standing there, and then made her way inside.
Things were definitely happier with this visit to the tavern. Despite Tish wanting to ride with her and John (as they followed their parents and Leo in Francine’s car) to try and escape what would mostly likely be a ride filled with Francine being a bit upset with Leo for being late, things had calmed down once they got there. Martha watched as her parents cuddled a bit in the corner of the booth, their eyes flickering with renewed love. She watched Tish and Leo play-fighting in the other corner as they laughed and drank and celebrated this new stage in her life. It made her feel so lucky to have them. For all their faults and loud, brash behavior, she was so happy to have them in her life again after the year that never was.
Martha then turned to look at John, who was smiling at her sweetly, and holding her hand. He was a man just as lost in the world as the Doctor in some ways, yet so vibrant and full of life despite his tragedies, and she knew as he looked into her eyes with an affectionate gaze she’d never seen from anyone else, how lucky she was to have him too.
---
“I hope Tish didn’t frighten you too much,” Martha said as they walked inside John’s flat.
They had been at the tavern for a few hours and were now starting to both feel pretty tired. Martha herself was a bit tipsy as well, having so many people buying her congratulatory drinks for the evening (John, her family, the bartender who knew her family, and so on), so John suggested they go home to relax.
“Of course not,” John replied, taking her coat from her and hanging it on the coat rack. “Why would she do that?”
“She’s just,” Martha pointed at him, her finger a bit unsteady, and her voice somewhat slurred, “a bit flirty.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he replied with a wink, taking his own coat off.
“I hate when she does that,” she said with a pout.
“Why?”
“She’s the pretty one and I just…with you…I guess it makes me a bit nervous, if I’m honest,” Martha replied, her insecurities getting the better of her with the alcohol sloshing in her brain.
“The pretty one, eh?” John asked, backing Martha against the wall in the hall. “I don’t know. I mean, she is nice-looking, but you, Doctor Martha Jones, are simply the most beautiful and sexy girl I’ve ever known.”
Martha had to stifle a laugh at how he kept calling her by the title of ‘Doctor’ since she’d passed her exams. He had just been so proud of her - congratulating her so many times and constantly telling her how brilliant she was - and it just made her feel absolutely elated.
John began to kiss her neck and she could soon feel his arousal pressing against her belly. She let out a moan in response. “Right, you’re just saying that to be nice,” she said. It was mostly a tease, but still tinged a bit with truth.
“Not at all,” he replied in between kisses along the column of her neck, “when I first saw you in the canteen, I thought, ‘Wow, I really need to meet her, she is absolutely stunning.’ Of course then you did me a favor and fainted, so I guess I got lucky.”
“Yeah, that was embarrassing,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Real sexy there.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” he countered, running his hands down her sides. “But then, I think you are just sexy all the time.”
“Even now, when I am tipsy?”
“In that dress, giving me naughty glimpses all night of your cleavage, showing me your beautiful legs. Yes, I would definitely say that right now you are very sexy,” he replied, nipping at her earlobe.
“Oh, John,” Martha drew out in a long breath, “make love to me.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied, stepping back and picking her up in his arms to walk her down the hall to the bedroom. It wasn’t something he did all the time, saving it mostly for when she was very tired or had been drinking, but there was something Martha always found it so romantic about when he’d carry her to the room.
Once in the bedroom, John carefully laid Martha down on the bed and then crawled over her, looking down at her from above. “It’s too bad you don’t have any ties,” Martha observed with a giggle.
“Sorry?” he said, confused, until their earlier conversation dawned on him. “Oh, you want to tie me up, do you? Or,” he rubbed his hardness between her legs, “do you want to be tied up yourself?”
Martha groaned, her body growing achingly aroused. “Both sound good,” she panted. “I’ve not done either,” she added, with a hint of a blush and an embarrassed squint.
“Really?” he asked mischievously, leaning to whisper in her ear, knowing when he did so it would send the most delicious shivers through her, “Well, it’s the evening of your celebration. If you had the choice tonight, which would you do?”
“But,” she countered, stopping to moan as he moved himself against her again, “you don’t have any ties.”
“No, I don’t have a tie,” he whispered, “But what I do have, Doctor Martha Jones, is an idea.”
“Okay Doctor John MacLachlan, what do you propose?”
“I propose, going over to my wardrobe,” he rubbed against her, “getting out my robe,” he then rubbed against her again, “and pulling off the belt from it to use. What do you think of that plan?”
Martha was starting to feel almost breathless with desire, but nodded her head quickly, whispering. “Yes, Doctor MacLachlan, I think that’s a good idea.”
John shifted off her and got up from the bed. Martha watched him as he crossed the room. She couldn’t help but stare at the evident arousal in his trousers and how his clothes hugged his body. They had been together several times now, but she still found herself so drawn to him, the excitement from the newness of sex with him not fading, but becoming even more enticing.
He picked up his robe from a shelf in the wardrobe and pulled off its belt. He then turned to her, holding it up between his fingers, “So, have we decided who gets tied up tonight, Doctor Jones?”
He began sauntering toward her, a sexy grin on his face. As she had said, Martha had never been tied up before and, while John was one of the few people she would trust with such a task, she’d barely been able to get the image out of her head of him tied up since he’d mentioned it off-handedly earlier.
“You. I want to tie you up.”
John raised an eyebrow in surprise and then sat down on the bed next to her. “As you wish,” he said. “Would you like to help undress me as you did such a lovely job dressing me earlier? I’d suggest at least taking this off now,” he pointed to his jumper and shirt, “getting them off once I’m tied up is pretty damned impossible. Trust me.”
Martha sat up next to him and pulled off his jumper. She then slowly began to unbutton his shirt, taking the same care as she had earlier. Once she slid it over his shoulders and pulled off his vest, she looked up at him somewhat shyly. “I don’t really know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to even properly tie you up.”
John lifted a hand to caress her cheek. “This is just really light bondage play. It’s very simple, I’ll even walk you through it. We can stop at any time.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll tell you to stop if we need. We can use what they call safe-words later if you need, but for now, this isn’t going to be so hardcore. Besides, I like the idea of you tying me up,” he said with a naughty wink.
“You just like corrupting me,” Martha corrected.
“Yeah,” he said with a puckish grin, “that too.”
“How should I start?”
John lay back on the bed, crossing his arms over his head between the bars of the headboard. “See the bars, just tie me to them.”
Martha sat beside him. “Any particular way?”
“Anyway you wish, for now. I’ll tell you if it’s too uncomfortable.”
Martha tied the belt around his wrists, securing him a simple knot. Once they deemed it was just right for what they needed, she began to take advantage of the supine man beside her. She began with teasing him with light touches all over his chest and arms, supplemented with soft kisses.
“One day we’ll have to try this with you blindfolded,” Martha whispered at one point and John moaned in response saying, “That’s the spirit.”
Martha eventually removed his trousers and underwear, taking her time to enjoy every inch of skin as it became exposed to her. So many times that they had been together had either been too quick for her to really explore him or had been focused more on him pleasuring her. She was excited now that she could finally give him the same pleasure, kissing his skin all over, delighting in the soft smattering of freckles over his body, until she finally took his cock into her mouth for the first time.
John groaned, his hips bucking up as she moved her mouth on him. She could feel him rattling the headboard, pulling against his bonds and panicked for a moment, before assuring herself that he would tell her to stop if he needed her to.
She enjoyed the feel of his silky skin as she moved her mouth along his shaft, flicking her tongue against him, and tasting his arousal. She was almost just as inexperienced at fellatio as she was with bondage, but John’s moans and whimpers showed he was enjoying what she was doing nonetheless.
“Oh yes, Martha, your mouth feels so good, so very good,” he whispered now and again, his hips lightly bucking against her mouth when she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock.
“St-top,” he finally stammered and Martha quickly stopped, worried she might have gone too far. She looked at him and he had a wide gratified smile on his face, easing her. “That was wonderful - really, really wonderful - but I want to be inside you and if you keep doing that - “
Martha smiled up at him, crawling over him to kiss him. He kissed her passionately and, while it felt strange to not have his hands in her hair as he so often did when they kissed, it still felt amazing.
After pulling from the kiss, Martha leaned over and pulled a condom from the bedside locker. She slowly put it on him, knowing he loved it when she slowly rolled it down his length. John closed his eyes from the pleasure, but quickly opened them as he felt her straddling him and slipping his cock inside her.
The two of them both groaned as he penetrated her to the hilt and John whispered, “I love you.”
Martha leaned down and kissed him, causing him to groan as she shifted on him, “And I love you.”
With that Martha started moving on top of him, watching his face contort in pleasure and him pull against his bonds as he bucked up against her. “You’re moving your arms a lot, are you trying to get free?” she asked, trying to sound more sexy than worried.
“I just,” he panted, “your breasts. I just want to touch your breasts.”
“My breasts?” Martha asked seductively, realizing he was all right, but feeling somewhat mischievous herself. She leaned forward, her breasts so close to his face, but just slightly out of reach of his mouth, “Why would you want to do that?”
She enjoyed watching him try to move his neck and strain against his bonds to kiss and lick her breasts and even moved a nipple into his mouth for a brief moment before pulling it away. They moved faster against each other, Martha still teasing him with her breasts, until she finally relented and let him suck and bite and lick one of her nipples until a shuddering climax hit her.
She called out his name again and again, seeming to trigger his own orgasm as he bucked wildly beneath her. He groaned and loudly called out her name, still licking her nipple between pants as his orgasm subsided.
Martha leaned back, trying to catch her own breath as she sat astride John. “Doctor Jones, you play dirty. I like that,” he said, breathlessly.
“Do you now?” she asked, moving her hips a bit to cause a tremor of pleasure to surge through him.
“Yes, and now I can’t wait to tie you up myself. I think I might need to enact some revenge.”