Fic: Re-reintegrated 1/1
Story: Re-reintegrated
Author: wmr
Rated: M for quite definitely Mature
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose, Jack
Summary: “Still think you can cope?” the Doctor asks, voice soft, his eyes dancing with unholy amusement.
Sequel to Reintegrated, which itself is a sequel to Disintegration. Demanded Requested on the request-a-continuation meme and on Teaspoon by far more people than I can mention. ;) Betaed by the lovely
dark_aegis and
un_sedentary, aided in the early stages by
aibhinn. Thank you all!
Re-reintegrated
Anticipation curls in the pit of his stomach as he slowly ends the kiss with Rose. Never, not in a million years, did he ever guess the Doctor’d say yes. Not a chance.
The possibility of a yes didn’t even enter his head when he issued the challenge. He was just flirting, chancing his arm, as he can’t resist doing in any situation, and even more so with the Doctor, though he’d got out of the habit, really, during those months after they found each other again and Rose wasn’t there. The Doctor was missing Rose too much. And, really, so was he.
Breathing’s definitely becoming a challenge as he meets the Doctor’s gaze and notices how the Time Lord’s looking at him. There’s still humour there, the same teasing that was there a couple of minutes ago. But it’s fading, being replaced by an intensity that he’s only ever seen when the Doctor looks at Rose.
And that’s something else. The Doctor and Rose have been a couple ever since Rose came back. About time, too, of course, and he’s very happy for them. But Rose’s question to the two of them just now, and the way she’s just kissed him, is suggesting that she’s not at all averse to the idea of extending that couple to become a trio. She’s certainly not as twenty-first century in her notions as he imagined.
The Doctor’s leaning in towards him now, tucking Rose’s head into his shoulder to keep her between them but out of the way. And, finally, their lips meet.
The coolness of the Doctor’s lips isn’t a surprise; he remembers that from their goodbye kiss before. Though this is nothing like that. Then, he was the instigator, and it was brief, far too brief for his liking, but then its sole purpose was to say goodbye. Well, that and to try to say what he couldn’t put into words, and what the dark, tortured Doctor he’d known then wouldn’t have let him put into words.
This, now, is different. This is...
The Doctor’s hand moves to the side of his face.
...burning, searing...
...like nothing he’s known before. How can something as simple as a kiss be so unlike anything he’s ever experienced?
...need, passion, longing, lust and something indefinable, unnameable...
Such powerful emotions filling his mind with a strength he’s never experienced before. One kiss with the Doctor can do this to him?
...not just your emotions... thought you were cleverer than that, Captain.
The laugh, even though he only hears it in his mind, is unmistakeable. So this is being mind-fucked.
Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet, my friend. This is just the start.
The Doctor pulls his hand away, and in the same moment he breaks the kiss, and he’s left stunned. Reeling.
“Still think you can cope?” the Doctor asks, voice soft, his eyes dancing with unholy amusement.
Damn right he can! “When have I ever backed down from a challenge?”
The Doctor just smiles, then in one bound stands up. “Not here. Come on, if you’re coming.” A hand’s extended to each of them.
They end up in the Doctor’s bedroom, a room he’s well aware the Time Lord spends little time in and he himself has been inside only once. Though, of course, the Doctor does use the room more these days, now that Rose is back; a grin curves over his mouth at that realisation.
Rose and the Doctor are whispering to each other but, as he raises a questioning eyebrow in their direction, they break apart and advance on him. “Nice T-shirt,” Rose comments with an impish grin, and she runs her fingertips down the front of the garment in question, then catches the hem. “Be nicer still if you weren’t wearing it.”
Over her head, he catches sight of the Doctor’s expression. The man’s wicked smile says that he’s enjoying this.
Okay. If they want a strip-tease, then that’s what they’ll get. He bends, steals a hard, fast kiss from Rose’s surprised lips, then in one smooth gesture pulls the T-shirt over his head and lets it fall to the floor. His jeans are next; he flicks open the button at his waist, slides the zip down and strips them off. Naked, he gives the two of them a challenging look. Their move.
“Nice,” Rose says again, coming to stand by his side and sliding her arm around his waist. “That kiss was nice too.” She turns to the Doctor. “You’re right. He’s good.”
“You doubted my skills?” He cups her chin, turning her face up to him, and then claims her lips in a hard, demanding kiss, open-mouthed, taking advantage of her momentary surprise to explore her mouth and coax a response from her. Doesn’t take much coaxing.
It’s nothing like the kiss with the Doctor, but then nothing could be. Still, it’s a reminder, as if he needed it, that he’s always wanted Rose too, ever since that first moment when she landed in his arms after he saved her in the air-raid.
The dazed look in her eyes as he raises his head tells him it’s mutual. And when he catches sight of the Doctor watching them he almost forgets to breathe. He once thought no-one in the universe could do intense, penetrating stares as well as the Doctor’s previous regeneration. But the Doctor’s looking at the two of them now as if he wants to devour them.
Rose holds out her hand. The Doctor takes the three steps needed to join them.
“You two are kinda over-dressed,” he points out, running a finger along the inside of the Doctor’s collar. He gets a slightly crooked raise of an eyebrow in response and, thus encouraged, he grabs the ends of the Doctor’s tie and, slowly and with great enjoyment, removes it.
Everything happens quickly after that. The Doctor’s naked suddenly, and Rose’s final skimpy covering falls to the floor. And then the two of them are pushing him towards the large bed.
They’ve discussed something again. He’s out of the loop here, but that’s only making it all the more exciting. They know what’s happening next and he doesn’t.
He’s flat on his back and Rose - a very naked, luscious Rose - is kissing her way down his body, while the Doctor lies propped up on one elbow next to them, just watching.
Watching, while Rose brushes her breasts against his chest. Watching, while she finds his already-hard penis and teases it with her tongue before taking into her mouth. Watching as she slides back up his body and straddles him, bending down to kiss him again. And, too, watching as she lowers herself onto him, takes him inside her and rides him.
He’d love this anyway, with Rose - she’s doing things with her hips and her tongue that he knows are illegal in several galaxies - but with the Doctor watching it’s even more intense. That dark gaze rests on him, holds his own gaze, and sends shivers through him. There’s lust in the Doctor’s eyes, as well as the promise of much, much more to come.
More, as in what Rose described earlier; what she did with the earlier incarnation of the Doctor, and what this Doctor obviously does with her too judging by his reaction to her description. Oh, sure, he’s got something of an aversion to having his mind mucked about with, but this is different.
And... and he’s getting way too excited at the thought of it and he’s in danger of ignoring the gorgeous woman making love to him right now. Breaking eye contact with the Doctor, he grips Rose’s hips and flips them over, leaning over her as he takes over and makes love to her with long, slow, languid thrusts, alternating with quick bursts of frenetic movement. She’s whimpering within minutes. And he feels like whimpering as well.
“Oh, yes, sweetheart,” he coaxes, moving one hand to stroke her face. “That’s it. Come for me.”
She reaches up and kisses him, and in the same moment reaches out to the Doctor, gripping his hand. And then her body convulses.
A cool hand traces the line of his spine, and down over his butt, and suddenly he’s there too, crying out, spilling into Rose.
“Love you,” she murmurs as her breathing returns to normal, reaching up to press her lips to his cheek. And he remembers reading that in the letter she gave him just over a week ago, the one she’d written to him years earlier.
“Love you too, sweetheart.” He echoes what he said to her then.
A hand shoves at his hip. “Oi! Gonna keep me waiting all night?”
Rolling away from Rose, he quirks an eyebrow at the Doctor. “Decided you’re ready to join in now?”
“Oh, I’ve been joining in all along.” The Doctor grins. “Don’t underestimate the entertainment value of a bit of voyeurism.”
Like he needs to tell him that. “So, you promised me a new experience, didn’t you?”
A hand pushes against his shoulder. “Lie down.” The humour’s completely left the Doctor’s voice, and it’s dropped an octave. Brown eyes burn into his again.
Rose curls up by his side and slips her hand into his. He turns his head to drop a kiss on the top of her head. And then the Doctor’s demanding all his attention.
Colder-than-human hands stroke over his body, from chest to stomach to hips to thighs, and they’re followed by the Doctor’s tongue. “Love that oral fixation of yours,” he can’t resist pointing out.
Dark eyes meet his again suddenly. “No talking.”
Desire curls in the pit of his stomach. It’s not often this Doctor gives an order, especially outside the heat of battle.
Lean, muscled flanks slide alongside his. The Doctor leans over him, one thigh between his, and that shock of untidy brown hair is inches away from his face. Then the world’s blocked out as the Doctor’s lips cover his again.
Just a kiss... until fingers touch his temples once more and his world explodes with light and colours and shapes and rippling emotions.
No words this time; just a myriad of sensation, feelings he gradually manages to separate into desire and need and humour and affection and impatience - and determination that he’s going to be impressed by what’s about to happen. Probably no question about that one, even if it will only boost the Doctor’s already oversized ego still further.
And then it’s impossible to separate what’s going on inside his head from what’s happening to his body. Fingers are touching, caressing, penetrating, even as tendrils of thoughts and feelings penetrate his brain. Either way, he’s breathless, twisting and jerking his body beneath his lover’s.
There’s encouragement suddenly - yes, that’s it - and he cries out as they’re fully joined, as the sensation of filling and being filled merge inside his mind. And more; within moments, it’s sensation overload and he’s crying out once more, jerking and thrusting as if he were indeed the one doing the penetrating, orgasm sweeping over him just as he knows it is the Doctor too, because he can feel it. See it. Experience it.
As the little death ebbs away, the colours in his mind turn to peaceful yellows and greens; after a moment, burnt orange takes over, brilliant suns shining down, warming him - warming them as they lie together on red grass.
Beautiful. Somehow, although he knows he didn’t say the word aloud, he also knows the Doctor’s heard him.
Yeah. The reply is also silent. My planet.
He fumbles with his free hand and finds the Doctor’s. There’s a lump in his throat now that he just can’t free. That the Doctor would show him this...
Overwhelming sorrow washes over him, and he tightens his grip on the Doctor’s hand. How can anyone get over this kind of loss? How can he ever adjust to being the only one?
“It gets better.” This time, the words are spoken, murmured in his ear.
In his head, the sorrow’s turning to apology. I left you behind. I had no choice, but I hurt you.
Reaching up, he presses against the Doctor’s lips with his own. Ancient history. He’s learned a thing or two about psychic methods in his time, after all. You had to do it.
The kiss ends, and the Doctor’s smiling. He detaches his hand from Jack’s, reaching over to press his fingers to Rose’s temple. “Did say this is a party for three.” He grins at her, and she grins back.
And Rose is there too, in his head and in the Doctor’s, and he learns that she had a pretty fair idea of what just happened. That there’s been some sharing, opening up, between the two of them before now. And that the two of them, and the people they meet on their travels and the adventures they have, are what keeps the Doctor going.
That, though he may never say it, he’s never lost the capacity to love. He loves so many people, so many friends he’s had over the centuries - including those with him now.
Love you, he thinks, and feels a responding wave of emotion from both the Doctor and Rose.
“So,” the Doctor continues, “now you’ve seen what we can do, think it’s about time you proved to us that you deserve your reputation, hmm, Captain?”
The touch on his temple’s removed, and from Rose’s - the loss is intense, but there’s promise in the Doctor’s gaze that this won’t be the last time.
So he grins, shuffles into a kneeling position and surveys the two of them. “Party of three, you said,” he points out. “Not much of a party when one guest’s just watching.”
“Promises, promises.” Lying there, hair spread out all over the pillow and her body simply inviting every kind of touch there is, she does that thing with her tongue that always made him want to kiss her senseless.
And so he does.
It’s a blur of hands and lips and tongues and bodies sliding and stroking, three of them together this time, discovering and sharing and knowing, until finally the three of them are intertwined, connected and as close as three people can be without being one body. Closer still then as lean fingers brush his temples again, and he knows from the tendrils stealing inside his mind that Rose is there too.
Peace and contentment, happiness and anticipation of the next day’s adventures flow through his head. There may be danger, near misses, death-defying escapades, but as long as they have each other and the entire universe at their disposal it’s all worth it. Besides, as the Doctor’s fond of saying, trouble’s just the bits in between.
A familiar, amused voice is speaking in his head, words he’s heard before but which take on new meaning now. Onward to yesterday and tomorrow and the end of the universe and everywhere in between.
“Together,” Rose murmurs sleepily.
“Together,” the two of them echo, wrapping her securely in their arms.
END
Author: wmr
Rated: M for quite definitely Mature
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose, Jack
Summary: “Still think you can cope?” the Doctor asks, voice soft, his eyes dancing with unholy amusement.
Sequel to Reintegrated, which itself is a sequel to Disintegration. Demanded Requested on the request-a-continuation meme and on Teaspoon by far more people than I can mention. ;) Betaed by the lovely
dark_aegis and
un_sedentary, aided in the early stages by
aibhinn. Thank you all!
Re-reintegrated
Anticipation curls in the pit of his stomach as he slowly ends the kiss with Rose. Never, not in a million years, did he ever guess the Doctor’d say yes. Not a chance.
The possibility of a yes didn’t even enter his head when he issued the challenge. He was just flirting, chancing his arm, as he can’t resist doing in any situation, and even more so with the Doctor, though he’d got out of the habit, really, during those months after they found each other again and Rose wasn’t there. The Doctor was missing Rose too much. And, really, so was he.
Breathing’s definitely becoming a challenge as he meets the Doctor’s gaze and notices how the Time Lord’s looking at him. There’s still humour there, the same teasing that was there a couple of minutes ago. But it’s fading, being replaced by an intensity that he’s only ever seen when the Doctor looks at Rose.
And that’s something else. The Doctor and Rose have been a couple ever since Rose came back. About time, too, of course, and he’s very happy for them. But Rose’s question to the two of them just now, and the way she’s just kissed him, is suggesting that she’s not at all averse to the idea of extending that couple to become a trio. She’s certainly not as twenty-first century in her notions as he imagined.
The Doctor’s leaning in towards him now, tucking Rose’s head into his shoulder to keep her between them but out of the way. And, finally, their lips meet.
The coolness of the Doctor’s lips isn’t a surprise; he remembers that from their goodbye kiss before. Though this is nothing like that. Then, he was the instigator, and it was brief, far too brief for his liking, but then its sole purpose was to say goodbye. Well, that and to try to say what he couldn’t put into words, and what the dark, tortured Doctor he’d known then wouldn’t have let him put into words.
This, now, is different. This is...
The Doctor’s hand moves to the side of his face.
...burning, searing...
...like nothing he’s known before. How can something as simple as a kiss be so unlike anything he’s ever experienced?
...need, passion, longing, lust and something indefinable, unnameable...
Such powerful emotions filling his mind with a strength he’s never experienced before. One kiss with the Doctor can do this to him?
...not just your emotions... thought you were cleverer than that, Captain.
The laugh, even though he only hears it in his mind, is unmistakeable. So this is being mind-fucked.
Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet, my friend. This is just the start.
The Doctor pulls his hand away, and in the same moment he breaks the kiss, and he’s left stunned. Reeling.
“Still think you can cope?” the Doctor asks, voice soft, his eyes dancing with unholy amusement.
Damn right he can! “When have I ever backed down from a challenge?”
The Doctor just smiles, then in one bound stands up. “Not here. Come on, if you’re coming.” A hand’s extended to each of them.
They end up in the Doctor’s bedroom, a room he’s well aware the Time Lord spends little time in and he himself has been inside only once. Though, of course, the Doctor does use the room more these days, now that Rose is back; a grin curves over his mouth at that realisation.
Rose and the Doctor are whispering to each other but, as he raises a questioning eyebrow in their direction, they break apart and advance on him. “Nice T-shirt,” Rose comments with an impish grin, and she runs her fingertips down the front of the garment in question, then catches the hem. “Be nicer still if you weren’t wearing it.”
Over her head, he catches sight of the Doctor’s expression. The man’s wicked smile says that he’s enjoying this.
Okay. If they want a strip-tease, then that’s what they’ll get. He bends, steals a hard, fast kiss from Rose’s surprised lips, then in one smooth gesture pulls the T-shirt over his head and lets it fall to the floor. His jeans are next; he flicks open the button at his waist, slides the zip down and strips them off. Naked, he gives the two of them a challenging look. Their move.
“Nice,” Rose says again, coming to stand by his side and sliding her arm around his waist. “That kiss was nice too.” She turns to the Doctor. “You’re right. He’s good.”
“You doubted my skills?” He cups her chin, turning her face up to him, and then claims her lips in a hard, demanding kiss, open-mouthed, taking advantage of her momentary surprise to explore her mouth and coax a response from her. Doesn’t take much coaxing.
It’s nothing like the kiss with the Doctor, but then nothing could be. Still, it’s a reminder, as if he needed it, that he’s always wanted Rose too, ever since that first moment when she landed in his arms after he saved her in the air-raid.
The dazed look in her eyes as he raises his head tells him it’s mutual. And when he catches sight of the Doctor watching them he almost forgets to breathe. He once thought no-one in the universe could do intense, penetrating stares as well as the Doctor’s previous regeneration. But the Doctor’s looking at the two of them now as if he wants to devour them.
Rose holds out her hand. The Doctor takes the three steps needed to join them.
“You two are kinda over-dressed,” he points out, running a finger along the inside of the Doctor’s collar. He gets a slightly crooked raise of an eyebrow in response and, thus encouraged, he grabs the ends of the Doctor’s tie and, slowly and with great enjoyment, removes it.
Everything happens quickly after that. The Doctor’s naked suddenly, and Rose’s final skimpy covering falls to the floor. And then the two of them are pushing him towards the large bed.
They’ve discussed something again. He’s out of the loop here, but that’s only making it all the more exciting. They know what’s happening next and he doesn’t.
He’s flat on his back and Rose - a very naked, luscious Rose - is kissing her way down his body, while the Doctor lies propped up on one elbow next to them, just watching.
Watching, while Rose brushes her breasts against his chest. Watching, while she finds his already-hard penis and teases it with her tongue before taking into her mouth. Watching as she slides back up his body and straddles him, bending down to kiss him again. And, too, watching as she lowers herself onto him, takes him inside her and rides him.
He’d love this anyway, with Rose - she’s doing things with her hips and her tongue that he knows are illegal in several galaxies - but with the Doctor watching it’s even more intense. That dark gaze rests on him, holds his own gaze, and sends shivers through him. There’s lust in the Doctor’s eyes, as well as the promise of much, much more to come.
More, as in what Rose described earlier; what she did with the earlier incarnation of the Doctor, and what this Doctor obviously does with her too judging by his reaction to her description. Oh, sure, he’s got something of an aversion to having his mind mucked about with, but this is different.
And... and he’s getting way too excited at the thought of it and he’s in danger of ignoring the gorgeous woman making love to him right now. Breaking eye contact with the Doctor, he grips Rose’s hips and flips them over, leaning over her as he takes over and makes love to her with long, slow, languid thrusts, alternating with quick bursts of frenetic movement. She’s whimpering within minutes. And he feels like whimpering as well.
“Oh, yes, sweetheart,” he coaxes, moving one hand to stroke her face. “That’s it. Come for me.”
She reaches up and kisses him, and in the same moment reaches out to the Doctor, gripping his hand. And then her body convulses.
A cool hand traces the line of his spine, and down over his butt, and suddenly he’s there too, crying out, spilling into Rose.
“Love you,” she murmurs as her breathing returns to normal, reaching up to press her lips to his cheek. And he remembers reading that in the letter she gave him just over a week ago, the one she’d written to him years earlier.
“Love you too, sweetheart.” He echoes what he said to her then.
A hand shoves at his hip. “Oi! Gonna keep me waiting all night?”
Rolling away from Rose, he quirks an eyebrow at the Doctor. “Decided you’re ready to join in now?”
“Oh, I’ve been joining in all along.” The Doctor grins. “Don’t underestimate the entertainment value of a bit of voyeurism.”
Like he needs to tell him that. “So, you promised me a new experience, didn’t you?”
A hand pushes against his shoulder. “Lie down.” The humour’s completely left the Doctor’s voice, and it’s dropped an octave. Brown eyes burn into his again.
Rose curls up by his side and slips her hand into his. He turns his head to drop a kiss on the top of her head. And then the Doctor’s demanding all his attention.
Colder-than-human hands stroke over his body, from chest to stomach to hips to thighs, and they’re followed by the Doctor’s tongue. “Love that oral fixation of yours,” he can’t resist pointing out.
Dark eyes meet his again suddenly. “No talking.”
Desire curls in the pit of his stomach. It’s not often this Doctor gives an order, especially outside the heat of battle.
Lean, muscled flanks slide alongside his. The Doctor leans over him, one thigh between his, and that shock of untidy brown hair is inches away from his face. Then the world’s blocked out as the Doctor’s lips cover his again.
Just a kiss... until fingers touch his temples once more and his world explodes with light and colours and shapes and rippling emotions.
No words this time; just a myriad of sensation, feelings he gradually manages to separate into desire and need and humour and affection and impatience - and determination that he’s going to be impressed by what’s about to happen. Probably no question about that one, even if it will only boost the Doctor’s already oversized ego still further.
And then it’s impossible to separate what’s going on inside his head from what’s happening to his body. Fingers are touching, caressing, penetrating, even as tendrils of thoughts and feelings penetrate his brain. Either way, he’s breathless, twisting and jerking his body beneath his lover’s.
There’s encouragement suddenly - yes, that’s it - and he cries out as they’re fully joined, as the sensation of filling and being filled merge inside his mind. And more; within moments, it’s sensation overload and he’s crying out once more, jerking and thrusting as if he were indeed the one doing the penetrating, orgasm sweeping over him just as he knows it is the Doctor too, because he can feel it. See it. Experience it.
As the little death ebbs away, the colours in his mind turn to peaceful yellows and greens; after a moment, burnt orange takes over, brilliant suns shining down, warming him - warming them as they lie together on red grass.
Beautiful. Somehow, although he knows he didn’t say the word aloud, he also knows the Doctor’s heard him.
Yeah. The reply is also silent. My planet.
He fumbles with his free hand and finds the Doctor’s. There’s a lump in his throat now that he just can’t free. That the Doctor would show him this...
Overwhelming sorrow washes over him, and he tightens his grip on the Doctor’s hand. How can anyone get over this kind of loss? How can he ever adjust to being the only one?
“It gets better.” This time, the words are spoken, murmured in his ear.
In his head, the sorrow’s turning to apology. I left you behind. I had no choice, but I hurt you.
Reaching up, he presses against the Doctor’s lips with his own. Ancient history. He’s learned a thing or two about psychic methods in his time, after all. You had to do it.
The kiss ends, and the Doctor’s smiling. He detaches his hand from Jack’s, reaching over to press his fingers to Rose’s temple. “Did say this is a party for three.” He grins at her, and she grins back.
And Rose is there too, in his head and in the Doctor’s, and he learns that she had a pretty fair idea of what just happened. That there’s been some sharing, opening up, between the two of them before now. And that the two of them, and the people they meet on their travels and the adventures they have, are what keeps the Doctor going.
That, though he may never say it, he’s never lost the capacity to love. He loves so many people, so many friends he’s had over the centuries - including those with him now.
Love you, he thinks, and feels a responding wave of emotion from both the Doctor and Rose.
“So,” the Doctor continues, “now you’ve seen what we can do, think it’s about time you proved to us that you deserve your reputation, hmm, Captain?”
The touch on his temple’s removed, and from Rose’s - the loss is intense, but there’s promise in the Doctor’s gaze that this won’t be the last time.
So he grins, shuffles into a kneeling position and surveys the two of them. “Party of three, you said,” he points out. “Not much of a party when one guest’s just watching.”
“Promises, promises.” Lying there, hair spread out all over the pillow and her body simply inviting every kind of touch there is, she does that thing with her tongue that always made him want to kiss her senseless.
And so he does.
It’s a blur of hands and lips and tongues and bodies sliding and stroking, three of them together this time, discovering and sharing and knowing, until finally the three of them are intertwined, connected and as close as three people can be without being one body. Closer still then as lean fingers brush his temples again, and he knows from the tendrils stealing inside his mind that Rose is there too.
Peace and contentment, happiness and anticipation of the next day’s adventures flow through his head. There may be danger, near misses, death-defying escapades, but as long as they have each other and the entire universe at their disposal it’s all worth it. Besides, as the Doctor’s fond of saying, trouble’s just the bits in between.
A familiar, amused voice is speaking in his head, words he’s heard before but which take on new meaning now. Onward to yesterday and tomorrow and the end of the universe and everywhere in between.
“Together,” Rose murmurs sleepily.
“Together,” the two of them echo, wrapping her securely in their arms.
END