(no subject)
Weightless, Ten/Rose, Light Adult
Just a month before, they stood together below the yawning maw of a black hole, the loss of his ship a sharp tear in his chest, the comfort of her body pressed against it. 1080 words
There's a window on the fourteenth floor of this floating space resort. It runs the length of the long hall - floor to ceiling sightseeing for all the passengers who've bought a ticket to witness stars being born, to drift alongside glittering galaxies, to come face to face with the trail of a blazing comet. This is where he finds her late one night, cross-legged on the plush carpet, the fading supernova tinting her hair with firelight-red.
He'd battled with himself for nearly an hour before going to her room, and then, once he'd lost the battle in a particularly spectacular fashion, felt rather silly upon finding her not there at all.
They've been stuck here three weeks - his ship lost, and any possibility of its retrieval beyond his imagination. As the days wear on, he finds himself craving her company and her sunny energy more than ever. Wants the warm, reassuring pressure of her fingers and palm. Somehow feels as if he can breathe again every time her grin answers his. It's a weightless feeling, nothing like fear, and it bleeds away so much of his other heaviness.
He lowers himself down next to her and stretches out long legs, toes of his trainers nearly touching the glass in front of them. Neither of them speaks. But when the tilt of her head doesn't quite reach his shoulder, he scoots closer to close the distance.
The vast hall is dark except for the dim little buttons of safety lights that trace a path back to the lifts, and he can almost imagine it's just the two of them in the universe.
"'S a bit like déjà vu," she remarks after a silence spent gazing at the swirling light beyond the glass.
"Yes." Just a month before, they stood together below the yawning maw of a black hole, the loss of his ship a sharp tear in his chest, the comfort of her body pressed against it. He's not sure why it doesn't ache the same way this time.
"So, what now?" she asks quietly.
It's a question they've been avoiding. They're welcome to stay as long as they like after having saved everyone on this touring ship from certain death, but he's feeling it, too. It's time to move on.
He carefully shrugs the shoulder not occupied by her head. "Well, it's like you said. Find a planet, get a job..."
"You don't want that." Her tone is resigned, but with a smooth edge of kindness that makes him want to hold tight to something. He breathes.
"With you, I might." His hearts throb at the quiet admission. He's not sure what he expected, finally releasing this little thought into the open from where he's been turning it over and over in his mind, wearing it thin with worry and ache. For the world to end? The stars to go dim? Maybe. Maybe for her to blink out of existence, which she most certainly doesn't, feeling if anything more solid at his side.
"Yeah?" she asks. The moment seems too large for words, but if he nods, he might just dislodge her lovely head from his shoulder, and he's very busy realizing nothing else has ever fit there quite so well.
"Yeah," he whispers.
She does lift her head then, and pulls back to study his face. He can't read anything in hers.
After a long moment, she grins at him, rolls her eyes. "You're going to be a rubbish flatmate."
"Oi!" he protests. But it's hard to sound defensive with his hearts so warm in his chest and quite suddenly it's hard to think of anything at all, because she's kissing him.
It's warm and slow, but she's anything but hesitant, and when his hands rise to her waist, she sighs and her body seems to melt towards his. He's quite sure, suddenly, that the only reason he's kept his wits around her thus far is that they've never been quite this close. Now, though, that's her tongue in his mouth, and oh, her hands, and the taste of her, and she climbs into his lap and if he had to describe the way he's holding her he might be forced to admit that it falls into the clinging family.
He's always imagined it would be slow, and the mood here seems to demand it- the lazy swirl of light on their skin and the velvety darkness beyond the glass. He's always imagined they'd take their time for a change, that he'd press his lips to every inch of her skin. Kissing leads to more kissing, though, which turns to clumsy, hurried caresses and tugging at clothing, and he just can't do this slowly. She doesn't mind, by all accounts.
They fall into a frantic, tangled mess together, and he's very, very proud that he manages to retain enough brain function to lay his coat out under them. And then it's just the low hum of the ship's engines and muffled gasps and cries that sound far too loud in the quiet hall. He shatters around her and she comes under him with her head thrown back, the dying light of the supernova dancing across her bare skin.
She keeps her arms wrapped around him afterwards. It's somewhat of a relief, to be honest, as he's quite sure his bones have turned to jello. His hearts, on the other hand, seem to have turned to something else. He's not sure what, but it's warm and breathless and it makes his eyes sting.
"Doctor?"
He clears his throat. "Yes?"
"Do they have security cameras here?"
With some effort, he raises his head to look at her, beautifully tousled under him. A grin tugs at the corners of her mouth as realization floods his mind. "Oh, erm... probably?"
She giggles. "Oops."
"Indeed." Reluctantly, he rolls off of her, glancing around for what clothing they managed to remove. "And that particular activity is rather... frowned upon. Really quite a lot. At least in public places. I would have mentioned it, but... well, you distracted me with your..." he waves his hand at her, a wide gesture encompassing her state of undress and most certainly including her breasts. She laughs.
"Guess we might have to find ourselves somewhere else to stay."
"We very well might."
They finish dressing, sneaking silly, pleased smiles at each other as she hands him one of his trainers and he helps her into her hoodie.
"Run?" she asks when they're both presentable.
"Well, we don't have to..."
"...but it's more fun that way."
"Indeed."
They do.
Just a month before, they stood together below the yawning maw of a black hole, the loss of his ship a sharp tear in his chest, the comfort of her body pressed against it. 1080 words
There's a window on the fourteenth floor of this floating space resort. It runs the length of the long hall - floor to ceiling sightseeing for all the passengers who've bought a ticket to witness stars being born, to drift alongside glittering galaxies, to come face to face with the trail of a blazing comet. This is where he finds her late one night, cross-legged on the plush carpet, the fading supernova tinting her hair with firelight-red.
He'd battled with himself for nearly an hour before going to her room, and then, once he'd lost the battle in a particularly spectacular fashion, felt rather silly upon finding her not there at all.
They've been stuck here three weeks - his ship lost, and any possibility of its retrieval beyond his imagination. As the days wear on, he finds himself craving her company and her sunny energy more than ever. Wants the warm, reassuring pressure of her fingers and palm. Somehow feels as if he can breathe again every time her grin answers his. It's a weightless feeling, nothing like fear, and it bleeds away so much of his other heaviness.
He lowers himself down next to her and stretches out long legs, toes of his trainers nearly touching the glass in front of them. Neither of them speaks. But when the tilt of her head doesn't quite reach his shoulder, he scoots closer to close the distance.
The vast hall is dark except for the dim little buttons of safety lights that trace a path back to the lifts, and he can almost imagine it's just the two of them in the universe.
"'S a bit like déjà vu," she remarks after a silence spent gazing at the swirling light beyond the glass.
"Yes." Just a month before, they stood together below the yawning maw of a black hole, the loss of his ship a sharp tear in his chest, the comfort of her body pressed against it. He's not sure why it doesn't ache the same way this time.
"So, what now?" she asks quietly.
It's a question they've been avoiding. They're welcome to stay as long as they like after having saved everyone on this touring ship from certain death, but he's feeling it, too. It's time to move on.
He carefully shrugs the shoulder not occupied by her head. "Well, it's like you said. Find a planet, get a job..."
"You don't want that." Her tone is resigned, but with a smooth edge of kindness that makes him want to hold tight to something. He breathes.
"With you, I might." His hearts throb at the quiet admission. He's not sure what he expected, finally releasing this little thought into the open from where he's been turning it over and over in his mind, wearing it thin with worry and ache. For the world to end? The stars to go dim? Maybe. Maybe for her to blink out of existence, which she most certainly doesn't, feeling if anything more solid at his side.
"Yeah?" she asks. The moment seems too large for words, but if he nods, he might just dislodge her lovely head from his shoulder, and he's very busy realizing nothing else has ever fit there quite so well.
"Yeah," he whispers.
She does lift her head then, and pulls back to study his face. He can't read anything in hers.
After a long moment, she grins at him, rolls her eyes. "You're going to be a rubbish flatmate."
"Oi!" he protests. But it's hard to sound defensive with his hearts so warm in his chest and quite suddenly it's hard to think of anything at all, because she's kissing him.
It's warm and slow, but she's anything but hesitant, and when his hands rise to her waist, she sighs and her body seems to melt towards his. He's quite sure, suddenly, that the only reason he's kept his wits around her thus far is that they've never been quite this close. Now, though, that's her tongue in his mouth, and oh, her hands, and the taste of her, and she climbs into his lap and if he had to describe the way he's holding her he might be forced to admit that it falls into the clinging family.
He's always imagined it would be slow, and the mood here seems to demand it- the lazy swirl of light on their skin and the velvety darkness beyond the glass. He's always imagined they'd take their time for a change, that he'd press his lips to every inch of her skin. Kissing leads to more kissing, though, which turns to clumsy, hurried caresses and tugging at clothing, and he just can't do this slowly. She doesn't mind, by all accounts.
They fall into a frantic, tangled mess together, and he's very, very proud that he manages to retain enough brain function to lay his coat out under them. And then it's just the low hum of the ship's engines and muffled gasps and cries that sound far too loud in the quiet hall. He shatters around her and she comes under him with her head thrown back, the dying light of the supernova dancing across her bare skin.
She keeps her arms wrapped around him afterwards. It's somewhat of a relief, to be honest, as he's quite sure his bones have turned to jello. His hearts, on the other hand, seem to have turned to something else. He's not sure what, but it's warm and breathless and it makes his eyes sting.
"Doctor?"
He clears his throat. "Yes?"
"Do they have security cameras here?"
With some effort, he raises his head to look at her, beautifully tousled under him. A grin tugs at the corners of her mouth as realization floods his mind. "Oh, erm... probably?"
She giggles. "Oops."
"Indeed." Reluctantly, he rolls off of her, glancing around for what clothing they managed to remove. "And that particular activity is rather... frowned upon. Really quite a lot. At least in public places. I would have mentioned it, but... well, you distracted me with your..." he waves his hand at her, a wide gesture encompassing her state of undress and most certainly including her breasts. She laughs.
"Guess we might have to find ourselves somewhere else to stay."
"We very well might."
They finish dressing, sneaking silly, pleased smiles at each other as she hands him one of his trainers and he helps her into her hoodie.
"Run?" she asks when they're both presentable.
"Well, we don't have to..."
"...but it's more fun that way."
"Indeed."
They do.