Fic: Seeking Primes - Part 4
Title: Seeking Primes [4/?]
Author: whosintheattic
Beta: dtstrainers - who really needs a lot of love for this one, she beta'd her buns off to make this suitable for reading.
OT3: Ten/Rose/Eleven
Words: 5,075
Rating: MA
Spoilers: Doomsday and Journey's End; best to avoid if you haven't seen everything up to The Eleventh Hour.
Author's Notes: For Ten and Rose, it takes place between The Satan Pit an Love and Monsters. or Eleven, it takes place during The Eleventh Hour.
Warnings: OT3, het, slash
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
When he opened his eyes, they were wet with unshed tears, “Oh Rose, I-” his mouth formed the beginnings of the word love, and she pressed her fingers to his lips. Sod the bloody timelines, he wanted to speak the words so badly, to finally say what he’d never gotten the chance to.
She wanted to hear it so badly it ached down to her marrow, but instead she said, “I know; but it’s not the time, is it?”
“No. No, I suppose it isn’t,” he clenched his jaw a moment and swallowed thickly before hugging her to himself.
That night, the three of them shared a bed again. Her Doctor to her right, the older Doctor to her left. The younger Time Lord was mouthing her neck and dragging his teeth across her clavicle as the older Doctor moved closer. Her warmth was a stark contrast against his cooler skin. She leaned in close and kissed his neck, her lips moving up the column until she reached his ear. She pulled it into her mouth and sucked, eliciting a small growl. She exhaled a shaking breath into his ear, and the growl swelled. “Rose,” he whispered, his voice faltering as her hand crept lower and lower down his torso, “Wait,” he gently covered her hand with his to halt her progress. She released his earlobe and pulled back to look at him.
“What’s the matter, Doctor?” she said softly.
“I just-can we-can I,” he paused, looking down at his hand over hers, struggling for several moments before continuing, “Watch you?” His eyes darted from her, to his younger self and back again, “First?” he added as an afterthought.
She drew her hand away from his stomach and instead cupped his cheek; he turned into the touch. There was something desperate and haunted in his eyes that made her bones ache, and she couldn’t resist the urge to kiss it away. She felt her Doctor take her nipple into his mouth, and whimpered at the feel of his deft tongue swirling over it as he cradled her breast in his hand.
The older Doctor sighed as Rose’s lips met his. She was so warm, and soft, and as her tongue skated across his bottom lip, suddenly he wasn’t so sure of his request. In the instant before the words left his mouth, he’d thought that seeing Rose and his younger self together would remind him of the man he was; what they’d had together before the Cybermen, Daleks, and Torchwood had bungled it. Until I’d bungled it, he thought bitterly, his anger directed at himself. It flared in his belly like fire, and he threaded his fingers through Rose’s hair and pulled her mouth more firmly to his, parting his lips and plunging his tongue into the wet curves of her mouth.
Aroused further by his sudden flare of passion, Rose pressed her body to him as he claimed her lips hungrily, his desperation only a few shades lighter than that of a drowning man clinging to a life preserver. His fervor put just enough fear in her to make the moment exhilarating. She moaned against his lips and felt a twinge low in her belly. Her hand skittered clumsily from his cheek and down his torso, raking her fingernails lightly over his flesh before slipping her hand beneath the cotton sheet and gripping his firm length.
The younger Doctor watched as Rose’s hand slipped beneath the sheet, and at the same time moved to mold himself to her back. He gripped her hip and pulled her toward him as he pressed his half-hard length against her bum. The feel of her soft skin rubbing against his bare flesh made his cock twitch. The heat pooled in his groin and he suddenly had a very urgent need to be inside of Rose. Now. He reached around and ruffled her curls with his fingertips, and she quickly opened for him. As he teased her folds, she raised one leg and draped it over his. He pressed his mouth to her neck, and she whimpered against the lips of the older Doctor.
The older Time Lord broke the kiss, and looked down as he drew the sheet off of them; he watched as the fingers of his younger self slipped between Rose’s folds and two of them found their way into her. The older Time Lord gently removed Rose’s hand from his length, and turned onto his side, propping his head on his hand as he watched his younger self’s movements with rapt attention.
“Doctor,” she sighed before giving a groan. The older Time Lord was being bombarded by memories; his head was swimming as he watched his younger self ease Rose onto her back. The younger Doctor’s lips caressed Rose’s naked flesh; he withdrew his fingers and began to cover her body with his own, nipping at her breasts, her stomach, and her hips, allowing his hair to tickle her flesh. The Doctor curled his arms under her thighs, embraced them as he pulled her sex closer to his eager mouth; he reached down once again with his fingers and spread her. “Mmmmm,” she hummed. It was somewhere between a growl and a moan of need and approval. He slowly lapped from the bottom of her entrance to the top of her clit, before reversing course and swirling around it. Rose arched her hips toward his lips and moaned.
He wrote his name in Gallifreyan script against her clit before plunging his tongue inside her. He twisted and curled it against her walls, wishing he could reach further. The taste and smell of her was nearly overwhelming, her need flooding his system. She was sighing and keening and groaning under his ministrations, and her body was screaming out to him with every chemical it had. He groaned against her soft flesh and then drew his tongue up and around her clit again.
As the Doctor flicked his tongue against her sensitive flesh, she sighed. He savored her, rolled his tongue inside and across her flesh until she thought she might break. At last, he returned his attentions once more on her clit, wrapping his lips around it, and sucking gently. “Unnnngh, Doctor!” she groaned, “Fffuck.” Her hands opened and closed ineffectually against the sheets several times before she reached down to plunge her fingers into his hair. She tugged at it, scratched gently at his scalp and rocked her hips against his mouth. He hummed his approval against her wet flesh, and the vibrations only encouraged her further.
The older Time Lord let his eyes fall closed as the memories poured in, and began to trace his fingers lazily along his length. The light sensation caused more moisture to collect at the tip, and he willed an abundance of it to well up and out of him. He gathered it into his palm and took himself more firmly in hand, stroking slowly at first; he opened his eyes to watch the roll of Rose’s hips, and he matched the motion. As she sped up, he followed, struggling to suppress a groan.
He found himself watching the lips of his younger self against Rose’s flesh, and wondered for a moment what they would feel like wrapped around his length. He felt a rush of pleasure flow through him in that moment; that dirty, guilty pleasure one gets when they know they’re breaking the rules…and if traveling through time to witness or facilitate sexual encounters with your past or future self and another individual was frowned upon by the Time Lord council, then actually engaging in those acts yourself with yourself was downright abhorrent. Still, the older Doctor flirted with the idea as he took in the sight before him, stroking himself.
Rose was humming and groaning with pleasure under her Doctor’s attentions, and at last she felt the tension break, and she came. The Doctor lapped at her, slowly soothing her taut muscles, delving his tongue into her once more, twice more to sample her flavor.
The sounds of Rose’s orgasm had made the older Time Lord feel bold; he sat up a bit, and he reached for his younger self, curling his hand around the back of his neck, slowly bringing their mouths together. He wanted to feel those lips against his own and taste Rose on them. After the initial kiss; soft and telling, with the barest hint of tongue, the older Doctor kissed at the other Doctor’s chin, allowing his lips to collect Rose’s moisture, his tongue to dart out and sample it from the flesh of his younger self. The combination was exquisite, and he couldn’t help but groan.
Rose watched the scene unfolding above her with rapt attention. Oh, she thought as she caught peeks and hints of the older Time Lord’s tongue darting out to taste the flesh of the younger-to taste her. She bit her lip to calm herself, and try to stifle the noise in her throat, but it stubbornly slid past her lips and into the air between them. Both men turned to her, and their faces broke into wide grins.
Rose looked utterly gobsmacked. A few kisses between the two of them had turned her brain to mush; her arousal was written all over her face, and the younger Time Lord couldn’t help but smile smugly, “She likes it,” he said, looking at his other self. He leaned in to cup the back of the older Doctor’s head and pull him in for a snog. He slid his tongue between his lips and tasted the mouth of the man he would someday become, and Rose whimpered.
The younger Doctor nipped at the lower lip of the other Doctor, tongue sliding into his mouth to explore the curves, rolling against his tongue. The older Time Lord took the initiative then, and chased the younger man’s tongue into his own mouth, growling low in his throat.
Rose squeezed her thighs together and sighed as both of the Doctors’ breathing grew uneven, and when they broke apart, the older Time Lord reached to stroke her sex. He looked at his younger self and smirked, each giving the other a small nod. The older Doctor shifted closer and curled his lips around her clit.
The younger Doctor watched Rose as she watched his older self lavish her sex. He bit his lip in consideration, before pressing his lips into the creamy skin of her thigh. He brought her leg over his shoulder, making more room for himself as he too began to lap at her slick and delicate flesh.
Rose made a sound approximating, “Guh,” and the older Doctor mirrored the younger, placing Rose’s leg over his shoulder. He and his counterpart worked in tandem to please their pink and yellow human, not bashful when their own lips and tongues met, or when their cheeks brushed together. The older Doctor quite liked the feel of the other Time Lord’s sideburn as it brushed his cheek; he sighed at the sensation.
Rose looked down at the sight before her; she could barely focus the way her thoughts were racing and her brain was swimming. What the two Doctors were doing to her was incredible, but the things they were doing to each other reduced her to a mewling puddle of flesh. One Doctor would massage circles into her clit, and the other would plunge into her entrance, their faces pressed cheek to cheek, and then they would trade positions, or share her clit. Watching their tongues move together against her and each other made her undeniably wet, and they both knew it. The older Time Lord broke away to kiss the neck of his younger self, who hummed against Rose’s flesh. He worked his way up to his ear, and tipping his head toward Rose, he whispered, “Make love to her,” before slowly extricating himself. The younger man nodded and turned toward Rose, crawling up her body, allowing his smooth, cool skin to move against hers as he settled himself between her legs.
Rose bit her lip as her Doctor ran his tongue up the center of the valley between her breasts in a wet line, stopping when he reached her collar bone to give it a nip. He sucked at her thin excited flesh until she whimpered, and then laved the angry red mark in swirling patterns with his tongue. She couldn’t take his teasing, and sunk her fingers into his hair and pulled his lips to hers. With the movement, she felt the tip of his erection brush against her folds, and she shifted, rolled her hips against him, eager to feel his tender flesh against hers.
The Doctor moaned into her mouth at the feel of her heat against him. It was overwhelming, and he needed more; more heat, more wet, more Rose. He ran his fingertips along the outer swell of her breast, across her ribs, and finally between them, where he took himself in hand and guided himself to her entrance. He pushed his hips forward and sank into her. He paused for a moment, feeling her hips push against his, encouraging him further, but still he waited. He moved his mouth to her neck; lips and teeth and tongue against her pulse point before capturing the lobe of her ear. “Doctor,” Rose whimpered, “I need you. I need you now.” He grinned against her flesh, and withdrew; it took all of his will power not to just push forward. He repeated his shallow thrusts several times, until Rose uttered in a half-growl, half-cry, “Please Doctor, just fuck me. Fuck me now.”
The sound of that particular expletive made his control unravel, and he surged forward, a hiss of pleasure in Rose’s ear as he sank fully into her. The Doctor beside them sighed, and as she turned her head to look at him, her Doctor began to lavish her neck with kisses. He thrust slowly and firmly into her, and she rolled her hips in time to his rhythm. She bit her lip as she watched the older Time Lord; he was on his back, propped up on a pillow, head turned and green eyes peering at them, stroking himself firmly. The sight of him-lean and smooth, milky-white skin pulled taut over his muscles, his lush, dark-brown hair hanging partially in his face, the ripple of his bicep and forearm as he pumped his erection-made her muscles clench . Her eyes returned to his face, savoring the square of his jaw and the fullness of his lips; their eyes met.
The older Doctor was aware of Rose’s eyes on him; her gaze sent a hot wave of pleasure across his flesh and made his hearts beat just a bit faster. His eyes were fixed on the places where her skin came into contact with the other Doctor’s, his ears trained on the wet sounds he heard between them. His eyes wandered up until they found Rose’s, and he couldn’t help but look at her with wonder; amazed that he had found her, amazed that she had stayed with him-loved him-despite the walls he’d built around himself, despite his madness. It was only a second, and then the younger Doctor reclaimed her lips again as he increased his pace.
The Doctor felt the silky skin of Rose’s inner thighs as her legs squeezed his hips; her hands slipped from his hair, and trailed feather-lightly down his back to grip his bum. She squeezed him hard and pulled him to her as she rocked her hips into him. He propped himself up on his hands so he could take in the sight of her breasts, and watch her writhe beneath him. He used this new leverage to grind his pelvic bone against her clit and he rotated his hips.
Rose whimpered and keened beneath him, and he groaned as he watched her tongue peek from between her lips. His hips surged forward and Rose let out a cry of pleasure and reflexively brought her arms to grip his shoulders; her nails digging into his flesh. The Doctor hissed with pain, and thrust harder into her, causing her to dig her nails in again. He set up a rhythm he knew Rose enjoyed, fast and firm and savored the feel of her body around him, his skin pressing to hers.
The older Doctor groaned and gripped himself tighter, working his shaft to match the movements of his younger self, allowing himself to sink into the memories; the fingers of his free hand gripped ineffectually at the sheets for a moment before he felt Rose’s soft fingertips over his knuckles. She slipped her fingers between his and gripped his hand, pulling it toward her face. She pressed her warm lips into his palm before slipping his hand along her cheek and placing his fingertips at her temples. She pressed her hand to the back of his for a moment to encourage him. Once she was sure he wouldn’t pull away, she released her hold.
His fingertips nearly trembled at Rose’s temple; it has been so long since he’d been in her mind and he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to rein in his emotions once he did. He steeled himself and carefully reached out to her mentally. She gasped with the sensation before giving a small groan of pleasure, and as their minds became entwined, the Doctor could feel her love and lust crackling all around him. He moved his mind against hers, fiddled with a few chemical receptors and… “OH FUCK!” Rose cried out bucking hard against his younger self, curling one hand around the back of his neck, her fingers slipping into the hair at his nape; her other hand covered the hand of the older Time Lord and clutched at him, pressing his palm into her face. “More….” she breathed; it was a plea and a question, and he moved closer to the couple before shifting the chemicals around her brain again.
To her own ears, the sounds that escaped from Rose’s throat sounded more like an animal than a person. The feel of the Doctor in her mind was intimate and powerful; his presence, comforting. The motions he made against the edges of her mind, and the way his consciousness slid into hers…it was erotic and exquisite. She reached for him, curling her fingers around his as he gripped himself, and as she started to work his own hand up and down his length, he felt his control slipping away. She slipped her fingers between his to savor the feel of his length; he pushed into her mind again, and she fell apart beneath his younger self. The older Time Lord gasped as Rose’s waves of pleasure rippled and shuddered across their connection; suddenly, he felt her orgasm as if it was his own, felt the weight of his younger self on top of him, what his own hand felt like for her, pressed to her cheek, his fingertips twitching at her temples. He could even feel the way his hard length felt in her hand. Oh that’s brilliant, he thought, just before his conscious mind frayed and he stumbled into his own orgasm, spilling over Rose’s hand and onto his own stomach. “Rose,” he whimpered. She relinquished her hold on him, and dropped her hand to the sheet between them, and the older Doctor’s hand fell away from her temple.
With her clean hand, Rose reached up to cup her Doctor’s cheek. “Touch me, Doctor,” she sighed. He marveled at the love in her eyes, and slowly brought his fingers to her temple. When the connection was made, she sent him a thought,
Rose cried out at the sensation of her Doctor within her and all around her. When he entered her mind like this, it was like waking up under a nice warm duvet after a good lie-in. When he lowered himself against her to press his lips to hers, the feel of the freckled skin of his chest against her breasts was electric; she felt warmth radiating outward from her nipples and rippling across her whole body. She writhed beneath him and gripped at his waist. She could feel in his mind and his body that he was nearly ready; the Doctor brought himself to the very edge of pleasure and waited there before reaching out a mental hand to pluck at her pleasure centers. As they tumbled together over the precipice, they called out to each other in their minds.
Her Doctor’s weight was comforting against her body. He leaned close to tickle her face with his fringe, and he whispered into her mind,
she replied. This exchange is one they’d shared many times, and the look in his eyes, the way his mind shivered and hummed against hers at her response, she knew how he really felt. Rose always wanted to say so much more, but the only time she could bring those three words out was in the throes of passion…she often wondered if he knew how sincere she was in those moments. The Doctor slowly withdrew from her mind and body, kissing her again, nibbling at her lower lip one more time.
“You two,” the older Time Lord spoke a bit breathlessly, “are brilliant.” He watched his younger self roll to the opposite side of Rose. Now that the ardor among them had settled, the elder Time Lord felt a bit awkward and more than a bit sticky. “I think I’ll have a shower,” he said after a moment, getting to his feet and turning quickly toward the adjoining en suite.
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
Rose was asleep to the Doctor’s right, and his older self was to his left, turned toward him, propping himself on his elbow. The bed sheet was draped across the three of them, though Rose was monopolizing most of it. The younger Time Lord was lying on his back, one hand tucked under his head, while the other hand gesticulated in front of him as he described a distant memory to his older self. Again, they spoke in Gallifreyan, and the Doctor’s hearts warmed every time his older self responded. Conversing with his other self gave him the illusion of a shared culture and history, even though that place in his mind that was once burgeoning with the presence of his people stood dark and empty in his consciousness.
Each “Oh yes, and do you remember when…” uttered by his older self only served to warm his heart and set him at ease. The camaraderie turned into something else; something tender. The younger Time Lord cupped the cheek of the other, leaned in-slowly, in case he wanted to pull away-and kissed him on the mouth. The older Doctor wriggled awkwardly at first; free arm flitting about and unsure of whether it wanted to push his younger self away, or pull him closer. After a moment, he decided to do neither; he splayed his hand across the ribs of the younger man and shifted toward him as he deepened the kiss.
The older Doctor parted his lips and sought entrance into the mouth of his younger self as he felt the Time Lord’s hand slip from his cheek to clutch at the hair at the back of his head. The older man was pressed against him, the sheet still bunched between them; it did little to disguise the heat of the partial erection pressing into the hip of the younger Doctor.
It was long-past memories of this moment; recalling the other man’s confusion and desire as his own that spurred him on. The older Time Lord caressed the chest of his younger self, ghosting a fingertip across his nipple before traversing the round of his shoulder and squeezing his bicep. He at last drew him closer, pressing his hips slightly against his younger self.
The younger Doctor moaned softly into his mouth and turned into his embrace. He gasped as the sheet slipped aside and the heat of their groins connected and amplified. He pulled the other Time Lord to himself and tried to lose himself in the feel of their lengths pressing and moving together; the younger Doctor could feel himself getting hard against the curves and planes of his older self, and the sensation caused him to flush, the pink coloration starting in his freckled cheeks and blossoming down his neck and across his chest.
The older Time Lord could hear the thoughts of his counterpart echoing to him in the form of memory, Yes. More. So wrong. So brilliant. I can’t. I want. Oh. Lips. Yes. So warm. The older Doctor reached between them and encircled the length of his younger self, using the moisture they’d created to comfortably stroke him.
The feel of the man’s hand on his cock caused him to break the kiss with a gasp. His older self gently nudged and nuzzled at his jaw, urging him to turn his head; now there were lips on his neck and his thoughts were racing. He carefully rolled them over, so that the older Doctor was on his back, his hand still working against his length. The younger Doctor leaned in to nip at the Time Lord’s shoulder as the man continued to mouth his neck. He sighed and pressed his hips forward against his other self. The Doctor felt the fingers of his older self slide gently along his skin, tracing circles into the flesh that covered his ribs. His arms wobbled a bit as the pleasure spreading through him threatened to sap his strength; he kissed along the shoulder of his older self, detouring a moment to nip at his collarbone.
The older Time Lord bit back a groan, and shifted his grip. He now held himself and the younger Doctor in his hand; it was a precarious grasp with his hand so full, but he was able to press them together, and stroke them as one. The man above him suddenly bucked his hips, the friction created in his hand and against his length caused the older Doctor to whimper. He ran the fingers of his free hand up the flank of his younger self; the two men pulled back to look at each other before the younger Time Lord claimed his lips again. His breath was shaky, and his mind was racing through its litany: This is wrong. His hand! What am I doing? Oh yes. I should stop. We shouldn’t. I want this. I want this I want this I want this…
The older Doctor caressed the flesh of the man above him, across his flank, up his chest, along his clavicle, up the column of his neck, and along his jaw. He sighed as his fingers met the temple of his younger self, and began to ease into his mind.
The younger Doctor grabbed his hand and pulled it away, both of them hissing in pain as the beginning threads of their connection snapped. He pulled back, and the other whimpered at the loss of his body against his. “Why did you do that?” he said in a low voice, minding Rose’s sleeping form beside them. He extricated himself from the sheets and the bed.
“I thought we were…you know,” he seemed thoroughly embarrassed, sitting up in the bed, gathering the sheets in his lap to cover his erection. “I thought you wanted-”
“I can’t. With Rose, for Rose, it’s one thing,” he says, struggling to step into his trousers, too frantic to search out his pants among the detritus, “but, but, you’re…me!” he hissed, negotiating his erection into the fabric and working the zip and button.
“You’re the one who kissed me,” the older Doctor says, raking a hand through his hair.
“I know,” the other said, stooping to grab his shirt, “I just, I can’t, I need, I-” he struggled, straightening his shirtsleeves.
“I understand,” the older Time Lord said, “I’m you, remember?” he smiled mirthlessly.
“Exactly! You’re me. We can’t…there are laws.”
“There were laws,” he elder Doctor corrected.
“There are laws against this, or-at the very least-societal norms, and-”
“What society?” the older Doctor asked. “Who do we have to answer to? Who are we going to tell?” he kept his voice low as he continued, “You can’t hide behind the societal norms of our dead race when it suits you. If the Time Lords were still around, they’d regenerate you for carrying on with Rose like you-we-do, and you know it.”
The younger Doctor purses his lips; his nostrils flare, but he doesn’t acknowledge the questions of the other man. He stares at him with all the intensity of the Oncoming Storm. “I’m going to the control room. You stay with Rose. She likes waking up next to…” he waves his hand in annoyance of the semantics and hurries out of the room.
The older Time Lord sits there and waits for the memories to finish crystallizing in his mind, and he understands perfectly. The reasons of his younger self have less to do with the rules of dusty old Senators, and more to do with himself. His younger self’s self-loathing was still winning out over his loneliness; he resented the older Time Lord for standing before him as physical evidence that Rose’s forever could never be their forever. The older Time Lord suddenly remembered just how deluded he’d allowed himself to become in the face of his attachment to Rose, how he’d begun to let himself believe that this thing between them would never end. He looked down at his fading erection and felt ashamed for reasons he didn’t understand. He sighed and willed his hormone-levels back to normal, relaxing his…anatomy…before curling himself into Rose’s back. He’d always been self-loathing, and figured that if either of them would be the one to spurn the advances of the other, it would be him, rejecting his younger self; on the grounds that he was a tosser and had been careless at Canary Wharf. Or that he was a fucking prat for not saying goodbye that last time. He tucked an arm around Rose and held her as tight as he dared without waking her, and let her level breathing soothe him.
| Part 5 |