for fandom_muses: It's Beginning To Get To Me
It's not there now
Ineloquence and anger
Are all we have
He’s different now. Well, somewhat different. New hair and eyes and He’s a bit more filled out. Stronger and taller and not quite as lanky. Not quite as bouncy. Not nearly as manic.
He’s the Doctor. He’s just no longer his Doctor.
This new Doctor has more contempt for him than even his old Doctor. He hates him for walking around like a ghost of a former self. He usually doesn’t hide this very well.
They keep their distance mostly. They keep their distance and walk around like almost strangers. The Doctor is the Doctor. The other man is just a man who looks like someone the Doctor used to know. There is a companion of course, there are always companions.
Except she is gone now. It’s raining and she’s gone and both of them don’t know what to do without her there to fill the awkwardness that exists between them.
The other man leaves the Doctor out in the rain. He doesn’t know how to talk to Him, so he’s wandering the TARDIS, still wet from the rain. Still trying to find ways to get lost until a new girl comes onboard.
He’s found himself in a room that could only be called odds and ends. Things that have no place to go. Spare mattress here. A kayak there. Handcuffs on a shelf. An old transistor radio on top of a table. A book that had been missing from the library for years.
He picks up the book, taking a seat on the mattress, leafing through it. He isn’t sure how it ended up here in the first place.
Footsteps startle him and he looks up. New footsteps. Well not so new, but they still sound new to him. They’re heavier than they used to be. He is still waiting to wake up one day and find he hears his own footsteps echoing again. He knows he won’t.
He puts the book aside and stands up so that he’s facing the Doctor. The floor is littered with drops of water, neither of them bothering to dry the rain before they came inside.
Neither of them say a word for a moment, both circling the other. Eyes on each other. Accusations left unsaid. Emotions somehow buried. Both of them loathing the other. Both of them blaming the other for them now being stuck with each other and no one else.
He can’t stand this little dance anymore and he opens his mouth to say something. He wants to say something cutting and cruel and that he knows he will regret.
Before he can the Doctor has stopped him. Pushing him up against the wall, tripping on the mattress lying on the floor. His legs tangle and the Doctor falls down with him. He finds himself pushed against the wall, the Doctor's body pressed against him. He wants to say something, but his mouth suddenly can’t talk, it’s occupied. Lips and tongues and it’s anything but romantic. Harsh and rough and biting and so angry.
The Doctor finally pulls away,
“I always hated that.”
“What?”
“The way you pout. You look like a child.”
He wants to reply but the Doctor has hands in his hair, still pushing, still angry, His breath so close he thinks he might have shuddered.
“Your hair was never right either. You were always so vain. Who cares about being ginger?”
He can feel his chest rising, his body burns with it. He hates Him. This is the only thing he knows. He hates the Doctor.
“Shut up.”
He hates that he can’t think of anything better to say.
His head bangs against the wall again. The sound of his head connecting with a bit of piping echoing through the room.
“Your ears are all off, too. I hate those ears.”
His nostrils are flaring. He can feel it. He can feel the way it’s getting harder to breath. He can feel a mouth on his again, and a hand still tangled in his hair pushing his head back up against the wall.
“I hate the way your face twists like that, too.”
He pushes the Doctor harshly, and throws a punch to His face. The Doctor’s lip cracks, and he smiles.
“I said to stop talking.”
The smile disappears as he feels himself pushed back against the wall. Hard. Too hard. It hurts. His body aches with the impact.
“That stupid grin. It’s the worst part.”
His back hurts and there are lips on his now. He almost wants to spit Him out, but he doesn’t. His own mouth betraying him. Pushing and pulling and looking for something. Something to remind him that they are still almost the same.
His eyes move around him, suddenly catching sight of the handcuffs on the shelf. He pushes his free hand out, grabbing them. With his other hand he grabs the Doctor and tries to flip them around. The Doctor must not have been expecting this, and quicker than he thought he could move, he has the handcuffs looped through the piping and both of the Doctor’s hands are now secured.
The Doctor pulls on the handcuff, His eyes burning. The other man kneels at the foot of the bed, smiling at the Doctor.
“You shouldn’t have blue eyes.”
The Doctor struggles again, shaking the piping a little. The other man moves closer, pushing the Doctor backwards. Smiling.
“I hate your eyes.”
The Doctor pushes Himself forward again. Their foreheads are almost pushed together.
“Let me out of these things!”
The human Doctor laughs.
“Your voice too, it’s awful. Annoying and grating and I can’t stand the sound of it.”
He can feel the Doctor’s breath against his skin. Unlike his own breath, the Doctor’s is oddly cool, despite the way His mouth twitches.
“That twitching. What’s wrong with you?”
“You’re obnoxious when you’re smug.”
“You’re miserable.”
He feels the Doctor’s mouth on his again. It’s still so angry. There’s something else there, too. Like He’s looking for something He lost. Nostalgia, maybe? He’s not sure, but it’s the opposite of what he’s looking for in this situation. The Doctor is looking for something He was, this other man is looking for a way to play catch up.
A foot tangles near his calves, sending him crashing down on top of the Doctor.
He looks at Him. Looks at where they are. Looks at the handcuffs digging into His skin. Looks at the desperation and anger and loneliness in the Doctor’s eyes. The other man stops for a moment and tries to look at the scene from outside them.
He laughs at how ridiculous this all is. He laughs because the Doctor is the one tied up, and he’s the one with all the control.
He laughs and he pushes himself away. He looks on the shelf, finding the key. The Doctor looks at him, a look he can’t really identify. It’s too hard knowing with Him walking around in this new body.
“Well, you’re not a complete idiot,” the Doctor sneers struggling with the handcuffs again. “You’ve got some sense in that thick skull of yours. Now get me out of these things.”
The human Doctor only smiles, placing the key gingerly at the foot of the bed, and walking towards the door.
“What, where are you going?”
He opens the door, staring down at the Doctor.
“You never know when to stop talking. I suppose some things never change.”
The Doctor shakes the pipes again. After a minute He stops, looking at His former almost self with a blank stare. Finally His feet get to work, trying to drag the key back up to where His hands were.
The human Doctor watches Him for a minute, before exiting the room and walking down the hall. Not caring about what happens when the Doctor gets free. It was worth it, for a few minutes of control.
ooc: ways to fail at a kink meme: write something with no sex....but anyway, this was a response to a kink meme requesting Human!Doctor/Doctor action and handcuffs.