The Problem of Dozing
Title: The Problem of Dozing
Author: Sasusc
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: 10th Doctor, Rose Tyler
Words: 1784
Summary: Sequel to The Problem with Daydreams, but not a necessary read to understand this story, where the Doctor gets himself into a hot mess.
“Rose,” the Doctor said as he grinned over his cup of hot cocoa. It left a chocolate mustache, which he slowly licked away savoring the flavor. He carefully placed his mug down behind him.
“Doctor!” she said in frustration.
He glanced around the kitchen, looking at the mess he had made in his search for hot cocoa. The carton of milk was still laying about with some of it having spilled across the countertop in his haste to heat up the milk. Cocoa powder and sugar littered the counters and floor…which he had no explanation for why the mess was so widespread. He bit his lip trying to come up with a suitable reason; and when he couldn’t come up with one, he simply offered her his cup. “Want some?”
She giggled, taking the mug from him. She took a slip before licking her lips.
He reached out, wiping the last drop of chocolate from the corner of her mouth. Her mouth opened slightly pulling his digit into her mouth. She bit down gently to keep it in her mouth to lick the rest of the chocolate off.
He couldn’t do anything but stare at her lips. His body involuntary moved closer to her. He could smell her better over the scent of chocolate in this new position.
“Rose,” he finally said as he pulled his finger away. He tried to infuse her name with disapproval but he wasn’t sure if it had come out as he had planned.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “You started it.”
“Did not!” he quickly denied.
“Did too,” she said, nodding her head. She took a step forward, stepping into his personal space. He could only grin manically down at her--a perfect complement to the mischievous look that sparkled in her eyes. “You have the most desirable, yummy mouth.”
The Doctor’s jaw slackened in surprise. “Wha?”
“Do you have any idea what runs through my head every time I see your tongue? You’re forever using it in one way or another.” She reached up and stroked her thumb across his bottom lip. “Licking things, sticking out of your mouth as you work, or running across your teeth as you smile...”
The Doctor swallowed. “Yes, well… That’s the nature of tongues--for talking and tasting, for discovering the components of an unknown substance…” He trailed off as Rose moved. She stood on her tippy toes and ran her tongue across his lips. “What are you doing?”
“You’re a tease,” she whispered against his cheek. “I walked in here, and do you know what the first thing you did?”
“What?”
She leaned back so that he could have a perfect view of her face. She demonstrated, as slowly as he had, how he had licked his lips. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped from his mouth as her tongue wetted her lips.
She smirked up at him. “You’re a tease,” she iterated.
He physically shook himself to keep himself from falling under her charms. “I didn’t do that that slow.” He couldn’t have, he mentally told himself. It was too bloody slow…and sexy. A person couldn’t do that without having sex on their mind…and his mind hadn’t been thinking anything near to sex when he licked his cocoa mustache off.
He quickly rewound his thoughts. Yummy, hot, and delicious drink in his hands…and then one Rose Tyler walked into the kitchen wearing her pajamas, which had only consisted of way too short shorts--exposing her long and wonderful legs--and a tiny, pink tank top--showcasing her fantastic chest to which he only had to lean forward slightly to peer down at if he was so inclined to behave as a horny old man and to which he had resisted the urge since he knew she would step closer and gave him a similar view with no effort on his part--and she had that sexy bed hair thing going on that had him itching to ran his fingers through…
“Oh,” he accidentally voiced aloud. He stared down at her with a deer caught in the headlight look plastered across his face. He had been thinking about sex when he licked his lips.
Her hand slid from his neck and burned a hot trail to the middle of his chest. That satisfied look spreading across her face told him that she could feel both of his hearts beating faster. He knew from the start--from the first time he had seen her interacting with other men--that she was Trouble, capital T. And when she aimed that look--that look she was giving him now full of female satisfaction and lust and something wonderful like bananas--it was all he could do to keep his hands fisted at his sides.
“Oh yeah,” she said softly.
“What are you doing?” he finally choked out.
Rose only smirked as she tugged on the front of his pants. Buttons and zippers came undone as if by magic under her skillful hands. He hadn’t realized she was doing it until she took her fingers off of his zipper and wrapped them around the waistband of his pants.
“Rose!”
She shoved his pants and underwear down to his ankles. He was standing in front of her with his pants around his feet and only his light blue t-shirt on. No socks or shoes, he thought briefly as he wiggled his toes. Rose was barefooted as well, and he noticed she must have gotten bored as she had painted each toenail a different color. And he couldn’t decide if the second color on her left foot was coral or peach pink…and wondered if they had any peaches on board…and…and…
It was hard to think when his entire focus was centered on the pads of her fingers underneath his t-shirt. Goosebumps followed the trail of her fingertips up the length of his chest. He gasped and shuddered as she paused over his sensitive nipples. Before he had the good sense to stop her, she raked her nails back down his chest. She dropped down on her knees, her hands gripping his hips to steady her descent.
“Rose,” he rasped. It was very, very obvious where this was going. “Don’t…”
Don’t do it. Don’t stop.
He could feel her breath on his thighs.
“Doctor,” she whispered--no pleaded.
That one word--those two little syllables that made up his name--rocked him to his core. He reached for her…to push her away for both of their sakes, to keep her rooted right there in front of him. His hands landed on her head, and instinct had him curling his fingers into her blond hair. And when one of her hands--the one on his left hip, her right hand--slid across his skin to hold him, her fingers tenderly wrapping themselves around the base of his cock, he tugged her closer until he could feel the wetness of her breath hot against the tip.
He stops thinking about what parts he needs to fix the TARDIS and where they should go next. He stops thinking about where he left that book he started reading back in his fifth regeneration that he never finished. He stops thinking about the darkness he feels creeping up on them and the oncoming storm that will probably, most likely, be unleash when that darkness overtakes them. There’s no big, bad wolf scattering pieces of herself through time and space trying to get back to him and leaving traces behind for him to find much later after it’s all over. There’s no time--no forwards or backwards. It’s only the two of them and the TARDIS, and all he can see, feel, taste is Rose Tyler. It’s all he’s ever needed or wanted: just him and Rose Tyler in the TARDIS.
And then, she closes that short--oh, so short!--distance between her mouth and his head and sucks him between her lips. Her tongue swirls around it a few times before taking him deeper. Her hand squeezes him gently, and so his fingers mimics hers and pulls at the blond strands beneath them.
“Rose,” he tries to say but it comes out as a half moan, half groan and he’s just staring down at her, watching her take more and more of him inside her mouth. He makes another noise as her hand at the base of his cock twist up and back down. Her mouth reverses, dragging her lips back up and stops briefly at the tip. And she repeats herself. Up and down, twist and pull--and his body can’t help but respond to her wetness and heat and the delicious friction she’s creating with her mouth and hand.
The Doctor could feel the shifting of time around him as his orgasm was fast approaching. A few more strokes and he would come…except, the warmth and wetness was gone. And his eyes that he hadn’t realized he had shut opened. He jerked again as the TARDIS rocked in the time vortex. He frowned as he glanced around. He was in the kitchen with his cocoa mess all around him and a slightly warm cup of cocoa in front of him at the small table.
“Impossible,” he muttered. He rubbed at the slight crease on his cheek where it had rested against the fabric of his suit jacket on top of the wooden table. “Impossible,” he repeated. Falling asleep at a table was something the Doctor did not do.
“Doctor?”
He nearly fell out of his chair as he turned to see his companion standing in the doorway. She was smirking against the frame.
“What have you done?” she asked. “It looks like a bomb went off in here.”
“Rose…” She quirked an eyebrow as he lost his words. That small twist jumpstarted his mind and body, and he was out of the chair and speaking once again. “Rose. Sorry about the mess…I had trouble locating the necessary ingredients. It’s been some time since I cooked anything in this kitchen. Ah! I remember now! Sixth library, sofa by the corner window. Could you clean this up? I have a book to finish.”
Rose made a choked noise at his departure, but he refused to stop his mad rush from the room. The book could have waited, but he couldn’t risk staying in that room another moment with her. His thoughts had been too dangerous and his body had been rebelling against his careful control around the blond human. He needed a distraction. A nice little mostly-safe adventure would be the perfect solution to his traitorous mind. He’ll plot their next destination as soon as he retrieved his forgotten book.