Fic: 4 Times Clara Kissed the Doctor and One Time He Kissed Her Instead
Title: 4Times Clara Kissed the Doctor and One Time He Kissed Her Instead
Fandom: Doctor Who
Author: spaciireth
Words: 854
Rating: T
Genre: Fluff/Romance/Angst
Characters/Pairing: 11/Clara
Summary: What it says on the tin
Prompt: 100_women 036: "Kiss" Also, 11/Clara, "First kiss".
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: None of it is mine.
Notes: Apparently, I ship this. I wasn't sure if I did, and then I saw the first kiss prompt and it all came to me at once, and so apparently I do. Also, apparently I can never write Doctor/Companion without it turning bittersweet at the end. I think I caught all the instances of this, but I apologise if there are any moments where I slip into present tense.
I.
The first time happened almost accidentally. They’d managed to knock out the team of aliens that had been surrounding them using the primitive stun guns the Doctor had rigged up for the two of them, and they’d turned to face each other, both still buzzing on adrenaline. Their faces turned out to be closer than either of them had realised, and Clara flashed him that trademark grin before closing the gap between them. It only lasted a second but the Doctor could feel a grin creep across his own face when she pulled away again. The sound of foot-falls could be heard around the corner; no doubt more soldiers come to see what happened to their comrades. Clara took the Doctor’s hand in her own. Now was time for more running. If they got out of this alive, maybe there’d be time for other things later.
II.
It was raining in London, but Clara was dragging the Doctor out of the TARDIS, insisting that this is what you do when it’s raining. They were somewhere on the banks of the Thames when she stopped and pulled his face down to hers. There was rain in his hair and his ear and his bowtie was soggy and dropping but his hands were on Clara’s waist and hers were around his neck and he found he could ignore everything else.
III.
“Oh, come on, let’s indulge them a bit.”
“What? No! I’m not even human, so I couldn’t demonstrate human mating rituals even if I wanted to.”
“Right, because it’s so much different for Time Lords?” Clara’s trying not to giggle at him, but he’s just adorable when he’s uncomfortable and it’s difficult to keep a straight face. “Anyway, surely a bit of kissing would do. Make something up to tell them. Say that something is transferred through the oral passages and that’s how it happens… or something.”
The Doctor was still uncomfortable about the whole thing when they were led to a glass viewing room later on. Clara kept her eyes fixed on his as she took his hand and began tracing small circles on his palm with her thumb. He watched her curiously; she’d never done this before. She moved from his palm to his wrist, and then to his forearm and then a particularly sensitive spot on his throat, which sent a shiver all the way down his spine. By the time she stood on tip-toes and pressed her lips to his, he’d quite forgotten that they had an audience. He pulled her closer to him and lost himself in the taste of her.
When they finally broke apart, they could hear murmurs ripple through the crowd of spectators. An alien who appeared to be in charge started asking the Doctor questions and Clara did her best not to smirk while he invented a biology lesson for them. He was all flustered and gangly again, and she had to resist the urge to kiss him again then and there.
IV.
The TARDIS was floating somewhere in time and space, but Clara and the Doctor were simply reclining in the sort-of-living-room that the TARDIS had given them. The Doctor’s arm lay across the top of the sofa and Clara’s head was resting on his shoulder. They’d just gotten back after almost-dying again were both simply glad to be alive. All of a sudden, Clara felt an immense feeling of gratitude for everything just wash over and she sat up. The Doctor looked at her quizzically and she didn’t know how to express what she was feeling in words, so she leaned forward and kissed him, hoping that would convey everything she wanted it to. When she looked into his eyes afterwards, he seemed to understand and she went back to leaning on him without another word.
V.
They were standing outside the TARDIS, Clara with a bag over her shoulder and the Doctor with his hands in his pockets. They each kept looking at the other uncertainly, in between bouts of being unable to make eye contact.
“So this is it?” Clara finally asked.
“S’pose so,” the Doctor replied, “for the best.” Neither was sure whether he was trying to convince her or himself.
“I’ll miss it,” she said, giving the TARDIS one final once-over, and then looking at the Doctor again. “All of it.”
He smiled sadly at her and brushed strand of hair out of her eyes, then letting his hand linger on her cheek. “I’ll miss you, too.” And then he bent down to bid her one last farewell, a kiss that lasted not much longer than their first, the only difference being this one was tinged with sadness instead of excitement. Clara tried to hold onto it a bit longer, but the Doctor straightened up and gave her that sad smile again. She took a deep breath, adjusted the strap of her bag and nodded.
“Goodbye, old man,” she said, punching him lightly on the arm.
“Goodbye, Clara Oswald.”
And then she was gone, and he was turning and walking back into the TARDIS, hearts heavy, alone once again.