Fic: Five Times The Doctor Found Himself A Bit Tied Up
Title: Five Times The Doctor Found Himself A Bit Tied Up
Pairing(s): Two/Jamie, Four/Sarah Jane, Five/Turlough, Nine/Jack, Ten/Tardis
Rating: 15 / PG-13 (for smuttage, actual and implied)
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 500
Notes: Spring is in the air, I'm stuck in an airport lounge in North Carolina, and the Doctor is in handcuffs! Happy International Month of Bondage to one and all.
• Part v was written for the doctorwho100 challenge (Claim: Ten/Tardis; Prompt #58: Hold; prompts are here).
X-posted to dw_slash
***
Allright. I can wait. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?
Anticipation.
The Doctor tugged experimentally at the straps on his wrists. Tight. Of course - that’s the point.
I can wait. I’m a Time Lord, I have time, he told himself, eying the discarded kilt on the floor nearby. I can wait until Jamie returns.
He tried to ignore the persistent ache in his cock.
I can wait until then.
He tried to think about geometry.
I can wait.
He tried.
I can.
He gave up.
He slipped out of the straps and stalked off in search of Jamie.
***
“Let me try that on.”
“It looks rather nice on you.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“Might look even better without the jumper underneath … Oh, yes, now that’s lovely.”
“Bit long, no?”
“You’re not wearing it right … how’s that?”
“Is that really how it’s worn - without a skirt?”
“Traditionally. You don’t see me wearing a skirt with it, do you?”
“Hmm. No, I think it looks better on you. Come here.”
“Bit tight - ”
“No, that’s how it’s supposed to be worn. Hold still.”
“It really is a bit tight, Sarah Jane … Sarah Jane? Where are you going? Come back here!
… Sarah Jane?”
***
One minute they’d been snogging happily, pausing only to discard the occasional superfluous item of clothing.
Jacket, sweater, trousers (two pairs). Another jacket. Shirt, shirt, pants.
It hadn’t occurred to the Doctor that Turlough was still wearing a tie; by that point he had been focusing almost exclusively on just how much of Turlough’s ass he could hold in two cupped hands.
One minute, a double-handful of the redhead’s lovely bottom; the next, and he’d been rather expertly bound at the wrists with Turlough’s striped necktie. The Doctor blinked in surprise.
Turlough grinned.
The next minute was quite nice indeed.
***
Once the threat of imminent death had passed, they turned to the next problem.
“What do you mean, ‘no keys’?”
“They’re antiques. Collector’s items,” Jack explained.
“And why,” the Doctor enquired, “do you carry around two pair of antique handcuffs?” Jack blinked innocently. “I see.”
“Use the sonic screwdriver - “
“You mean the sonic screwdriver across the room from the console that we’re handcuffed to?”
“Ah … when do you think Rose’ll wake up?”
“Dunno. Guess we’ll have to wait.” He looked at Jack. “What?”
“Just wondering,” Jack said, blinking innocently again, “what you think we might do in the meantime?”
***
The incessant bleeping was becoming annoying.
The Doctor stalked into the control room. “Right, you. Let’s stop the noise so certain Time Lords can have a kip, yes?” He removed a panel from beneath the console and peered into the tangle of wires behind. “Not half warm,” he muttered, shucking his jacket and wriggling inside.
He prodded about experimentally. “Doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, so why -"
The bleeping stopped.
“That’s better.” He tried to wriggle out again and found a rather thick wire wrapped about his legs.
“Oh, I see,” he purred. “... Somebody just wanted a little attention.”
Pairing(s): Two/Jamie, Four/Sarah Jane, Five/Turlough, Nine/Jack, Ten/Tardis
Rating: 15 / PG-13 (for smuttage, actual and implied)
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 500
Notes: Spring is in the air, I'm stuck in an airport lounge in North Carolina, and the Doctor is in handcuffs! Happy International Month of Bondage to one and all.
• Part v was written for the doctorwho100 challenge (Claim: Ten/Tardis; Prompt #58: Hold; prompts are here).
X-posted to dw_slash
***
Allright. I can wait. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?
Anticipation.
The Doctor tugged experimentally at the straps on his wrists. Tight. Of course - that’s the point.
I can wait. I’m a Time Lord, I have time, he told himself, eying the discarded kilt on the floor nearby. I can wait until Jamie returns.
He tried to ignore the persistent ache in his cock.
I can wait until then.
He tried to think about geometry.
I can wait.
He tried.
I can.
He gave up.
He slipped out of the straps and stalked off in search of Jamie.
***
“Let me try that on.”
“It looks rather nice on you.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“Might look even better without the jumper underneath … Oh, yes, now that’s lovely.”
“Bit long, no?”
“You’re not wearing it right … how’s that?”
“Is that really how it’s worn - without a skirt?”
“Traditionally. You don’t see me wearing a skirt with it, do you?”
“Hmm. No, I think it looks better on you. Come here.”
“Bit tight - ”
“No, that’s how it’s supposed to be worn. Hold still.”
“It really is a bit tight, Sarah Jane … Sarah Jane? Where are you going? Come back here!
… Sarah Jane?”
***
One minute they’d been snogging happily, pausing only to discard the occasional superfluous item of clothing.
Jacket, sweater, trousers (two pairs). Another jacket. Shirt, shirt, pants.
It hadn’t occurred to the Doctor that Turlough was still wearing a tie; by that point he had been focusing almost exclusively on just how much of Turlough’s ass he could hold in two cupped hands.
One minute, a double-handful of the redhead’s lovely bottom; the next, and he’d been rather expertly bound at the wrists with Turlough’s striped necktie. The Doctor blinked in surprise.
Turlough grinned.
The next minute was quite nice indeed.
***
Once the threat of imminent death had passed, they turned to the next problem.
“What do you mean, ‘no keys’?”
“They’re antiques. Collector’s items,” Jack explained.
“And why,” the Doctor enquired, “do you carry around two pair of antique handcuffs?” Jack blinked innocently. “I see.”
“Use the sonic screwdriver - “
“You mean the sonic screwdriver across the room from the console that we’re handcuffed to?”
“Ah … when do you think Rose’ll wake up?”
“Dunno. Guess we’ll have to wait.” He looked at Jack. “What?”
“Just wondering,” Jack said, blinking innocently again, “what you think we might do in the meantime?”
***
The incessant bleeping was becoming annoying.
The Doctor stalked into the control room. “Right, you. Let’s stop the noise so certain Time Lords can have a kip, yes?” He removed a panel from beneath the console and peered into the tangle of wires behind. “Not half warm,” he muttered, shucking his jacket and wriggling inside.
He prodded about experimentally. “Doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, so why -"
The bleeping stopped.
“That’s better.” He tried to wriggle out again and found a rather thick wire wrapped about his legs.
“Oh, I see,” he purred. “... Somebody just wanted a little attention.”