fifty times matt kissed karen or maybe its the other way 'round (pt 2)
a/n: i wrote this in a day. lol. also: Matt was seen in Rio with Florence Welsh and some other peeps. So, I included her in the story...and then I put Karen in Rio too 'cause WHY NOT! it's my RPF.
part one
none of this happened, to my knowledge, but god it'd be great if it did. ENJOY ;D
~twenty-six:
There's sand in between her toes, the shade of the umbrella covering most of her pale skin, and she watches with adoration as Matt kicks around a football with some of their other mates.
“What's it like?” Florence asks, calmly, a hint of a smile on her lips.
“What?” Karen is clueless to what she's saying.
“That feeling.” Florence gestures to the middle of her chest, “It's amazing, isn't it? Like holding your breath under water...seeing how long you'll last...and for the slightest of moments, you feel like you can breathe down there. But you don't. And you resurface and reality comes crashing back.”
Karen thinks she's alluding to love but, the football comes crashing over to their cozy spot and spills her drink. “Oi!”
Matt makes it up to her by sneaking a kiss under the shade of the umbrella and the cover of their friends surrounding them. The paparazzi don't have a clue.
~twenty-seven:
Rio looks even more beautiful at night. He pulls her into the ocean with him and they let the waves crash around them. As the tide threatens to pull her in and Matt keeps a firm grip around her waist, his mouth moving - their banter going back and forth - easy as breathing.
Karen gets the idea of what Florence was talking about.
“Karen.” He whispers, “I love you.”
“You.” Karen pulls his face to hers and plants a firm kiss on his lips. “You too.” She breathes, “I love...”
He gets the message.
~twenty-eight:
They find an outdoor club because its just too warm to be cooped up inside anywhere. Karen shimmers in her dress and Matt can't keep his eyes off her. They dance with each other. Then break apart. They dance with their friends, step on toes, and make damn right fools out of themselves.
Matt twirls her, watching her red hair capture the lights as it fans out around her face. He pulls her back into his chest and they show off with their knowledge of “the Drunk Giraffe.”
It's just not a party without that dance.
~twenty-nine:
They make a fort out of the hotel bedsheets and sleep underneath it.
He doesn't want this vacation to end.
~thirty:
Back home, work keeps them apart.
But, like the dance in Rio, they shuffle their way back to each other and she just fits perfectly in his arms.
~thirty-one:
“You're drunk.” Karen points out, pinching his flushed cheeks.
“S'fh...shut up.” He rests his head on her stomach, “I miss...I...you. I missed you.”
“So, you left the pub...to come home early...to tell me that? A phone call would have sufficed, yeah?” Karen can't help but tangling her fingers in his hair, his hands resting near her ribs, a gentle - innocent touch - that just means so much more.
“M'm-m friends don't care. They called the cab.”
She quirks an eyebrow even though he can't see it. “It's your birthday!” And she would have been at the pub with him if she didn't have work in...oh...three hours.
“I missed you.” She knows that he doesn't mean he missed her tonight. He means he's been missing her at work. In the TARDIS.
“God, Matt. You are so clingy!” She teases and then regrets it. Because his hands jump and he's tickling her ribs mercilessly, kissing along her collarbone and neck.
~thirty-two:
She stops by the BBC and leaves a note in his trailer. It's an address.
He calls her up after wards, “When?” He asks.
“Right now.”
“Give me twenty minutes.”
~thirty-three:
Karen's parents knew Matt already. He was her best friend before anything else. He fits in so perfectly that it's almost scary. Karen sets her cup down to stop the obvious shaking of her hands.
“So, will we be expecting any happy news?” Her mum asks with a wink when Matt leaves.
Karen blushes as bright as her hair, “It's not like that!”
Had she entertained the idea of spending the rest of her life with him? God yes.
Was she ready for that? God no.
~thirty-four:
Karen tries her best to get along with the new companion to the Doctor. She's nice and talented, but she's no Amy Pond.
Karen learns to love her character over time.
And in a few months, she even invites the actress who is now filling her shoes, out for drinks.
~thirty-five:
“She's lovely, yes.” Matt agrees, his nose buried in her hair, “But - there's nobody else I'd travel with other than Amy Pond.”
“Fanboy.” But his words ease that strange worry in her chest.
~thirty-six:
“You always said you'd like to try it.” She says, leaning her hip against the counter. Their agents called them, almost simultaneously, telling them about a theater-filmed performance of Macbeth.
“Do you think the public just wants us working together again?” He asks with a smirk.
She tosses her head back and laughs. 'Stupid face' he thinks, fondly.
~thirty-seven:
“Think of something terrible.” Matt says, cupping her face in her hands, “Terrible. Awful. Something you never want to happen.” He's coaxing the right type of crying-madness that Lady Macbeth turns into near the end of the play. Her hysteria before she kills herself.
“C'mon, Kazza, dig it up.” His thumbs brush along her cheekbones.
Karen lets out a slow breath, the script in her hand shaking, and then she thinks about saying goodbye. That's always sad. She thinks really, really hard about saying goodbye to Matt. For real. A genuine 'this is over' or 'your best friend is dead' kind of goodbye.
And a broken sob escapes her lips.
“Perfect.” He bumps his nose with hers and she finds herself laughing through the tears.
~thirty-eight:
Arthur kicks her foot under the table. “Everyone's gonna be there. Alex, Steven, Mark - the whole lot.”
She chews on her sandwich and thinks about all her friends and co-workers. Half the theater is just going to be filled with them. It warms her heart a little bit to think how close-knit they've all become. “You should have auditioned! It'd be great, the three of us working together.”
“Why? So I could be the guy who dies at the beginning?” His expression is pure apathy.
Karen can't breath she's laughing so much.
~thirty-nine:
Matt's kissing and Matt's acting are pretty much the same. He's completely invested. Every touch, every mannerism, every word, every gasp - he's attentive and gentle. Karen swallows because she doubts she'll ever get used to this. He looks at her like she's the only person on the whole stage. He touches her like she's going to slip through his fingers.
They've kissed thousands of times, she thinks, but it's still weird kissing with the knowledge that there is going to be a crowd a few feet away.
“Focus on me.” He mutters, “Kaz, it's just me and you.”
Plays are different from television. There's no crowd in television until after everything's filmed. There is only the cozy set and the actors and the men behind the cameras.
She hits his shoulder anyways. “Shuttup. This isn't my first rodeo!”
He snorts, “What?”
~forty:
Arthur gets a chance to play around on the piano at the after party. The music reminds her of home, of boisterous nights out going to Arthur's gigs with Matt - the music reminds her of the first time he kissed her. A sloppy, quick kiss that almost missed her mouth.
“You were brilliant.” Alex says, hugging her, and Karen smiles brightly. It's like a Pond family reunion.
She feels an arm wrap around her waist, it feels snug, tight, and she doesn't have to turn her head to know who it is.
~forty-one:
Matt kisses down her stomach and Karen arches her back, fingers twining in his floppy, damp hair. He rests his chin above her bellybutton and looks up at her. Karen groans in frustration, “Matt, Matthew - you better have a good reason to have stopped.” Her voice is thick. The Scottish accent more pronounced than ever.
She glances down at him, meeting his questioning green eyes and he says nothing, kissing his way back down and making her forget the rest of the world.
~forty-two:
She plants a feather-light kiss on his forehead before tip-toeing out of the house.
Karen knows that at her interview this morning, they're going to ask about Matt - about their chemistry - about the play - and it's been almost three years since they started whatever this was.
It was time to go public.
~forty-three:
“We're like...the British Brad and Angelina.” Matt says, holding up a tabloid reading; “Time Lord has hots for ex-companion.” - and then showing her another, “Macbeth stars turn up the heat off-stage.” and then (Karen's favorite) - “Matt Smith and Karen Gillan - WHO would have guessed?”
“It'll calm down.”
“We were totally covert though, like super spies.”
She laughs and pulls his collar towards her. Who would have thought happiness was going to taste like Haribo Sweets?
~forty-four:
Matt worries his lower lip in between his teeth.
I'd like to be a companion forever
I'd like to be a companion forever
Karen rolls her hips, ginger hair cascading down around her face and brushing against his chest and the words grow faint inside his head.
~forty-five:
Her copy of 'Alice in Wonderland' is well-read, the pages worn, the binding almost falling off - but she refuses to part with it. She's had it forever. It's her favorite.
Still, when Matt surprises her with her original copy, just rebound and the cover page fixed - Karen can't help the stupid smile that appears on her face.
Karen knows it's the original because page 34 has a tea stain on it. Page 102 has the corner torn off. And the book looks almost strange, because the pages are old but the cover is new. But it's a good kind of strange - and she reads it every night with Matt's arm draped over her stomach.
~forty-six:
They've been lovers countless times. She knows his body, she knows him - it's terrifying and wonderful all at once. He, in turn, knows her.
So he knows - when she flops down on the couch with her face buried inside the pillow, that this isn't something talking can fix. Matt makes tea the way she likes it, sets in on the coffee table, and sits in the chair facing her until she lifts her head and gives him a weak smile.
“Okay?”
“They said I was too...sexy...for the role.” Karen manages a laugh and Matt just rolls his eyes.
“Kaz, you're absolutely atrocious. Those idiots must be blind not to be able to see that you're like a three out of ten.” There's a smirk tugging at his lips as he tries to keep his face straight and she feels better already.
~forty-seven:
“I do want you to regenerate. You're my Doctor.” Karen still whispers even though they're in the safety of their own flat.
“Every story has to end, otherwise nothing would ever get started.”
She nudges him with her elbow, “Stop stealing Steven's lines!”
“Make me.”
She shoves a jammy dodger into his mouth and the rest of the morning is a food fight.
~forty-eight:
Matt kicks at a stone while walking with Arthur. “So, when?”
“I don't know.” Matt scratches his cheek. “God, we've been together for what - three and a half years? Almost four!”
“And you've been friends for loner than that, mate.”
“True.”
“She loves you - you love her - am I missing some type of weird Smith Logic here?”
Matt puffs out a sigh, the wind tousling his hair, “What if she says no?”
“What if she says yes?” Arthur shrugs and Matt thinks that Karen saying yes is even scarier than her saying no. But, then he sees her, laying next to him in their dark blue sheets and he knows deep in his gut that he wants that to be what he wakes up to every single morning for the rest of his life.
~forty-nine:
His eyes are wide, vulnerable, and his knees are starting to hurt. Karen licks her lips, the heat of Rio sticking to her skin, she should have known something was up when he took her here again. She watches his adam's apple bob as he swallows. Oh, god, how long have they just been standing here?
She grabs the box in his hand, shoves it into her pocket and tackles him into the sand. “Yes, yes, yes yes, god yes,” Karen's voice jumps with excitement, breaks, and then raises again - like the water crashing yards away from the pair. “Yes - yes - yes - yes. Absolutely. You moron, you weren't expecting any other answer, were you?” Karen kisses him and their teeth clash together.
~fifty:
It's a new crowd watching them now. A more intimate crowd, all their friends and family and distant relatives and Karen swore to herself she wasn't going to be emotional.
His hands keep fidgeting all throughout the ceremony. She can't help but giggling from time to time. But, when she giggles - he giggles - and they say their vows through their nervous laughter. It's not just nerves though, it is pure bliss, pure excitement.
Their lips meet somewhere in the middle and it's hard to say who kissed who first.
But, really, who's keeping track of that sort of stuff anyways?
Fin.
part one
none of this happened, to my knowledge, but god it'd be great if it did. ENJOY ;D
~twenty-six:
There's sand in between her toes, the shade of the umbrella covering most of her pale skin, and she watches with adoration as Matt kicks around a football with some of their other mates.
“What's it like?” Florence asks, calmly, a hint of a smile on her lips.
“What?” Karen is clueless to what she's saying.
“That feeling.” Florence gestures to the middle of her chest, “It's amazing, isn't it? Like holding your breath under water...seeing how long you'll last...and for the slightest of moments, you feel like you can breathe down there. But you don't. And you resurface and reality comes crashing back.”
Karen thinks she's alluding to love but, the football comes crashing over to their cozy spot and spills her drink. “Oi!”
Matt makes it up to her by sneaking a kiss under the shade of the umbrella and the cover of their friends surrounding them. The paparazzi don't have a clue.
~twenty-seven:
Rio looks even more beautiful at night. He pulls her into the ocean with him and they let the waves crash around them. As the tide threatens to pull her in and Matt keeps a firm grip around her waist, his mouth moving - their banter going back and forth - easy as breathing.
Karen gets the idea of what Florence was talking about.
“Karen.” He whispers, “I love you.”
“You.” Karen pulls his face to hers and plants a firm kiss on his lips. “You too.” She breathes, “I love...”
He gets the message.
~twenty-eight:
They find an outdoor club because its just too warm to be cooped up inside anywhere. Karen shimmers in her dress and Matt can't keep his eyes off her. They dance with each other. Then break apart. They dance with their friends, step on toes, and make damn right fools out of themselves.
Matt twirls her, watching her red hair capture the lights as it fans out around her face. He pulls her back into his chest and they show off with their knowledge of “the Drunk Giraffe.”
It's just not a party without that dance.
~twenty-nine:
They make a fort out of the hotel bedsheets and sleep underneath it.
He doesn't want this vacation to end.
~thirty:
Back home, work keeps them apart.
But, like the dance in Rio, they shuffle their way back to each other and she just fits perfectly in his arms.
~thirty-one:
“You're drunk.” Karen points out, pinching his flushed cheeks.
“S'fh...shut up.” He rests his head on her stomach, “I miss...I...you. I missed you.”
“So, you left the pub...to come home early...to tell me that? A phone call would have sufficed, yeah?” Karen can't help but tangling her fingers in his hair, his hands resting near her ribs, a gentle - innocent touch - that just means so much more.
“M'm-m friends don't care. They called the cab.”
She quirks an eyebrow even though he can't see it. “It's your birthday!” And she would have been at the pub with him if she didn't have work in...oh...three hours.
“I missed you.” She knows that he doesn't mean he missed her tonight. He means he's been missing her at work. In the TARDIS.
“God, Matt. You are so clingy!” She teases and then regrets it. Because his hands jump and he's tickling her ribs mercilessly, kissing along her collarbone and neck.
~thirty-two:
She stops by the BBC and leaves a note in his trailer. It's an address.
He calls her up after wards, “When?” He asks.
“Right now.”
“Give me twenty minutes.”
~thirty-three:
Karen's parents knew Matt already. He was her best friend before anything else. He fits in so perfectly that it's almost scary. Karen sets her cup down to stop the obvious shaking of her hands.
“So, will we be expecting any happy news?” Her mum asks with a wink when Matt leaves.
Karen blushes as bright as her hair, “It's not like that!”
Had she entertained the idea of spending the rest of her life with him? God yes.
Was she ready for that? God no.
~thirty-four:
Karen tries her best to get along with the new companion to the Doctor. She's nice and talented, but she's no Amy Pond.
Karen learns to love her character over time.
And in a few months, she even invites the actress who is now filling her shoes, out for drinks.
~thirty-five:
“She's lovely, yes.” Matt agrees, his nose buried in her hair, “But - there's nobody else I'd travel with other than Amy Pond.”
“Fanboy.” But his words ease that strange worry in her chest.
~thirty-six:
“You always said you'd like to try it.” She says, leaning her hip against the counter. Their agents called them, almost simultaneously, telling them about a theater-filmed performance of Macbeth.
“Do you think the public just wants us working together again?” He asks with a smirk.
She tosses her head back and laughs. 'Stupid face' he thinks, fondly.
~thirty-seven:
“Think of something terrible.” Matt says, cupping her face in her hands, “Terrible. Awful. Something you never want to happen.” He's coaxing the right type of crying-madness that Lady Macbeth turns into near the end of the play. Her hysteria before she kills herself.
“C'mon, Kazza, dig it up.” His thumbs brush along her cheekbones.
Karen lets out a slow breath, the script in her hand shaking, and then she thinks about saying goodbye. That's always sad. She thinks really, really hard about saying goodbye to Matt. For real. A genuine 'this is over' or 'your best friend is dead' kind of goodbye.
And a broken sob escapes her lips.
“Perfect.” He bumps his nose with hers and she finds herself laughing through the tears.
~thirty-eight:
Arthur kicks her foot under the table. “Everyone's gonna be there. Alex, Steven, Mark - the whole lot.”
She chews on her sandwich and thinks about all her friends and co-workers. Half the theater is just going to be filled with them. It warms her heart a little bit to think how close-knit they've all become. “You should have auditioned! It'd be great, the three of us working together.”
“Why? So I could be the guy who dies at the beginning?” His expression is pure apathy.
Karen can't breath she's laughing so much.
~thirty-nine:
Matt's kissing and Matt's acting are pretty much the same. He's completely invested. Every touch, every mannerism, every word, every gasp - he's attentive and gentle. Karen swallows because she doubts she'll ever get used to this. He looks at her like she's the only person on the whole stage. He touches her like she's going to slip through his fingers.
They've kissed thousands of times, she thinks, but it's still weird kissing with the knowledge that there is going to be a crowd a few feet away.
“Focus on me.” He mutters, “Kaz, it's just me and you.”
Plays are different from television. There's no crowd in television until after everything's filmed. There is only the cozy set and the actors and the men behind the cameras.
She hits his shoulder anyways. “Shuttup. This isn't my first rodeo!”
He snorts, “What?”
~forty:
Arthur gets a chance to play around on the piano at the after party. The music reminds her of home, of boisterous nights out going to Arthur's gigs with Matt - the music reminds her of the first time he kissed her. A sloppy, quick kiss that almost missed her mouth.
“You were brilliant.” Alex says, hugging her, and Karen smiles brightly. It's like a Pond family reunion.
She feels an arm wrap around her waist, it feels snug, tight, and she doesn't have to turn her head to know who it is.
~forty-one:
Matt kisses down her stomach and Karen arches her back, fingers twining in his floppy, damp hair. He rests his chin above her bellybutton and looks up at her. Karen groans in frustration, “Matt, Matthew - you better have a good reason to have stopped.” Her voice is thick. The Scottish accent more pronounced than ever.
She glances down at him, meeting his questioning green eyes and he says nothing, kissing his way back down and making her forget the rest of the world.
~forty-two:
She plants a feather-light kiss on his forehead before tip-toeing out of the house.
Karen knows that at her interview this morning, they're going to ask about Matt - about their chemistry - about the play - and it's been almost three years since they started whatever this was.
It was time to go public.
~forty-three:
“We're like...the British Brad and Angelina.” Matt says, holding up a tabloid reading; “Time Lord has hots for ex-companion.” - and then showing her another, “Macbeth stars turn up the heat off-stage.” and then (Karen's favorite) - “Matt Smith and Karen Gillan - WHO would have guessed?”
“It'll calm down.”
“We were totally covert though, like super spies.”
She laughs and pulls his collar towards her. Who would have thought happiness was going to taste like Haribo Sweets?
~forty-four:
Matt worries his lower lip in between his teeth.
I'd like to be a companion forever
I'd like to be a companion forever
Karen rolls her hips, ginger hair cascading down around her face and brushing against his chest and the words grow faint inside his head.
~forty-five:
Her copy of 'Alice in Wonderland' is well-read, the pages worn, the binding almost falling off - but she refuses to part with it. She's had it forever. It's her favorite.
Still, when Matt surprises her with her original copy, just rebound and the cover page fixed - Karen can't help the stupid smile that appears on her face.
Karen knows it's the original because page 34 has a tea stain on it. Page 102 has the corner torn off. And the book looks almost strange, because the pages are old but the cover is new. But it's a good kind of strange - and she reads it every night with Matt's arm draped over her stomach.
~forty-six:
They've been lovers countless times. She knows his body, she knows him - it's terrifying and wonderful all at once. He, in turn, knows her.
So he knows - when she flops down on the couch with her face buried inside the pillow, that this isn't something talking can fix. Matt makes tea the way she likes it, sets in on the coffee table, and sits in the chair facing her until she lifts her head and gives him a weak smile.
“Okay?”
“They said I was too...sexy...for the role.” Karen manages a laugh and Matt just rolls his eyes.
“Kaz, you're absolutely atrocious. Those idiots must be blind not to be able to see that you're like a three out of ten.” There's a smirk tugging at his lips as he tries to keep his face straight and she feels better already.
~forty-seven:
“I do want you to regenerate. You're my Doctor.” Karen still whispers even though they're in the safety of their own flat.
“Every story has to end, otherwise nothing would ever get started.”
She nudges him with her elbow, “Stop stealing Steven's lines!”
“Make me.”
She shoves a jammy dodger into his mouth and the rest of the morning is a food fight.
~forty-eight:
Matt kicks at a stone while walking with Arthur. “So, when?”
“I don't know.” Matt scratches his cheek. “God, we've been together for what - three and a half years? Almost four!”
“And you've been friends for loner than that, mate.”
“True.”
“She loves you - you love her - am I missing some type of weird Smith Logic here?”
Matt puffs out a sigh, the wind tousling his hair, “What if she says no?”
“What if she says yes?” Arthur shrugs and Matt thinks that Karen saying yes is even scarier than her saying no. But, then he sees her, laying next to him in their dark blue sheets and he knows deep in his gut that he wants that to be what he wakes up to every single morning for the rest of his life.
~forty-nine:
His eyes are wide, vulnerable, and his knees are starting to hurt. Karen licks her lips, the heat of Rio sticking to her skin, she should have known something was up when he took her here again. She watches his adam's apple bob as he swallows. Oh, god, how long have they just been standing here?
She grabs the box in his hand, shoves it into her pocket and tackles him into the sand. “Yes, yes, yes yes, god yes,” Karen's voice jumps with excitement, breaks, and then raises again - like the water crashing yards away from the pair. “Yes - yes - yes - yes. Absolutely. You moron, you weren't expecting any other answer, were you?” Karen kisses him and their teeth clash together.
~fifty:
It's a new crowd watching them now. A more intimate crowd, all their friends and family and distant relatives and Karen swore to herself she wasn't going to be emotional.
His hands keep fidgeting all throughout the ceremony. She can't help but giggling from time to time. But, when she giggles - he giggles - and they say their vows through their nervous laughter. It's not just nerves though, it is pure bliss, pure excitement.
Their lips meet somewhere in the middle and it's hard to say who kissed who first.
But, really, who's keeping track of that sort of stuff anyways?
Fin.