Paraselene
Written for the
dwliterotica January challenge, #21, XVIII The Moon. Rose/Tenth Doctor, very vague spoilers if you squint for S2 through The Satan Pit. Many thanks to my betas
larielromeniel and
the_sandwalker, who rightly prodded me into giving this some more life. R for a little smut, but nothing graphic.
A paraselene, or "moon dog," is a lovely ring around the moon that appears under certain atmospheric conditions. I saw my first one on my last birthday.
"There is something haunting in the light of the moon; it has all the dispassionateness of a disembodied soul, and something of its inconceivable mystery." - Joseph Conrad
Rose looked up into the clear night and felt the spinning of the world under her. The ghostly light of a band of stars (not the Milky Way, not here) traced a line through the blackness. A bright halo circled around the moon, almost too white and ethereal to be real. Around her, the grass in the field where they lay whispered softly in the wind. She felt the tracing of the light breeze on her face and pressed more firmly into the ground beneath her. She felt exposed, laid bare to the elements, a small speck of humanity on the face of a whirling globe in the emptiness of the stars. If she let go, she would fall, into the darkness, just as he had said he felt all that time ago.
She squeezed tighter onto the Doctor's hand in hers and he responded in kind by moving his thumb slightly, just enough to reassure her that he was there with her. This was what scared her: not the flights for her life, but the moments of insight into the life he led. When her adrenaline pumped and her mind whirled, she felt alive and vital. When they stood still, she saw, and she thought she might know why he lived such a manic life. If he stopped, he too would fall.
He had brought her here to see something heart-stoppingly lovely, with the usual lecture about the science behind the spectacle. She had listened absently as he spread out his coat on the grass for them. It was not until they were both on their backs looking into the night sky that Rose felt the sudden lurch of motion sickness and the sense that she could tumble down into the stars and the moon for eternity. Reflexively, her hand had jerked out for his, steadying and solid. Now, they breathed in the night together, staring into an ever-circling line of light around an unfamiliar moon.
She turned onto her side to face him, putting her head on his shoulder. He released her hand and slid an arm around her to draw her closer. The familiar wool of his suit jacket prickled against her cheek. She closed her eyes and let him ground her to the world.
Time passed.
With her eyes closed, with the Doctor's hand stroking her back, the cold light of the moon washed over her. They were explorers, the only two people in existence, alone yet together. When she opened her eyes and moved her mouth toward his, his timeless eyes bored back into hers, as deep and dark as the sky above them.
She pressed up onto one elbow, rolling a little away from him. He followed her with his eyes but, uncharacteristically, said nothing, just let a whisper of a smile cross his lips. Wind brushed softly across her back and through her hair. He reached up with one hand and drew a single finger across her cheek, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. His hand lingered, stroking her hair, pulling her back down again to him.
The kiss was gentle, reassuring, thorough. Rose again ended it, pulling away, but drew him to her as she moved onto her back. He shifted easily across her, pressing her into the grass and against his coat, the only thing preventing her from tumbling into the dark and the sky and the universe alone. Rose put her hands into his hair and down his back.
She opened her eyes as he kissed her and looked past his shoulder and into the unfathomable sky. There, the moon shone, the encircling light pushing back the darkness.
The Doctor trailed kisses along her jaw and to her ear. His soft tongue traced the curve of her earlobe. She pulled his shirt untucked and he arched his back to allow her access the buttons along the front. As he shrugged his shirt off, she pulled hers over her head. The rest of their clothing was discarded as easily and bare skin glowed softly in the cool moonlight.
For a moment, she felt shy, until the Doctor murmured something low and urgent against her cheek. The kiss this time was not gentle. His hands flowed over her body, against her breasts and belly and between her legs. She kissed him back with all her might. He pulled away and searched her eyes with his. Again, she felt the rolling disorientation, as if she had been submerged into water and struggled to find the surface. This time the depth of the darkness was not the sky, but his eyes, wild and familiar and filled with what she wanted to call love, or passion. He would not say, and she would not ask.
She looped one leg around him and tilted her hips against his, inviting. He released her from his gaze and bent his head to kiss her neck and jaw. Then he shifted and was against her, inside her, and she drew up her knees and moved against him. His face was buried in her neck, soft words rolling out incomprehensibly. The stars and the moon with its huge surrounding circle loomed over them and Rose pressed herself back into the ground, up against the Doctor, again, again, again.
When she came, she squeezed her eyes closed and dug her fingers into his back. He abruptly lifted his head and kissed her frantically, burying any sounds he might have made, or words he might have said, in his own climax.
Afterward, his body weighed her down. She sighed and nuzzled his neck. He was cool to the touch, even with the faint sheen of perspiration on his skin. When he lifted away from her, her skin prickled immediately into countless goose bumps and she protested. He smiled beneficently and drew the coat over her. She burrowed down into its warmth and watched him as he sat up and drew his knees to his chest, staring up at the stars.
“It’s beautiful,” she said. The exhilarating disorientation had ebbed and she felt, once again, a person on the ground, small under the sky, but pulled down, not falling out into the darkness.
The Doctor lifted his hand and traced a circle in the air, pointing to the moon and its bright ring. “It’s perfect,” he said. When he turned and met her eyes, he repeated the words. “It’s perfect.”
The words came up in her throat, the words she should not, must not, say to him. She was sure he knew already, how could he not? And she knew how he felt about her. This was the strange dance they did, soul mates and companions and lovers, but never spoken of. She had said “forever,” and saw him disbelieve her. If she told him how she felt, she would see the same disbelief and distance in those eyes and it would break her.
Instead she told him in countless ways with her movements, her actions, her eyes, and listened with her whole self for the responses he gave in the same way. It was enough.
She sat up as well and scooted over to him, resting her head on his shoulder. His bare arm came around her, again with his hand tracing gently on her back, and she felt contentment wash over her in a wave.
Above them, the moon and its ring shone in the sky, brighter than the millions of stars around it, brilliant in its icy shine, but still transient in its beauty.
dwliterotica January challenge, #21, XVIII The Moon. Rose/Tenth Doctor, very vague spoilers if you squint for S2 through The Satan Pit. Many thanks to my betas
larielromeniel and
the_sandwalker, who rightly prodded me into giving this some more life. R for a little smut, but nothing graphic.
A paraselene, or "moon dog," is a lovely ring around the moon that appears under certain atmospheric conditions. I saw my first one on my last birthday.
"There is something haunting in the light of the moon; it has all the dispassionateness of a disembodied soul, and something of its inconceivable mystery." - Joseph Conrad
Rose looked up into the clear night and felt the spinning of the world under her. The ghostly light of a band of stars (not the Milky Way, not here) traced a line through the blackness. A bright halo circled around the moon, almost too white and ethereal to be real. Around her, the grass in the field where they lay whispered softly in the wind. She felt the tracing of the light breeze on her face and pressed more firmly into the ground beneath her. She felt exposed, laid bare to the elements, a small speck of humanity on the face of a whirling globe in the emptiness of the stars. If she let go, she would fall, into the darkness, just as he had said he felt all that time ago.
She squeezed tighter onto the Doctor's hand in hers and he responded in kind by moving his thumb slightly, just enough to reassure her that he was there with her. This was what scared her: not the flights for her life, but the moments of insight into the life he led. When her adrenaline pumped and her mind whirled, she felt alive and vital. When they stood still, she saw, and she thought she might know why he lived such a manic life. If he stopped, he too would fall.
He had brought her here to see something heart-stoppingly lovely, with the usual lecture about the science behind the spectacle. She had listened absently as he spread out his coat on the grass for them. It was not until they were both on their backs looking into the night sky that Rose felt the sudden lurch of motion sickness and the sense that she could tumble down into the stars and the moon for eternity. Reflexively, her hand had jerked out for his, steadying and solid. Now, they breathed in the night together, staring into an ever-circling line of light around an unfamiliar moon.
She turned onto her side to face him, putting her head on his shoulder. He released her hand and slid an arm around her to draw her closer. The familiar wool of his suit jacket prickled against her cheek. She closed her eyes and let him ground her to the world.
Time passed.
With her eyes closed, with the Doctor's hand stroking her back, the cold light of the moon washed over her. They were explorers, the only two people in existence, alone yet together. When she opened her eyes and moved her mouth toward his, his timeless eyes bored back into hers, as deep and dark as the sky above them.
She pressed up onto one elbow, rolling a little away from him. He followed her with his eyes but, uncharacteristically, said nothing, just let a whisper of a smile cross his lips. Wind brushed softly across her back and through her hair. He reached up with one hand and drew a single finger across her cheek, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. His hand lingered, stroking her hair, pulling her back down again to him.
The kiss was gentle, reassuring, thorough. Rose again ended it, pulling away, but drew him to her as she moved onto her back. He shifted easily across her, pressing her into the grass and against his coat, the only thing preventing her from tumbling into the dark and the sky and the universe alone. Rose put her hands into his hair and down his back.
She opened her eyes as he kissed her and looked past his shoulder and into the unfathomable sky. There, the moon shone, the encircling light pushing back the darkness.
The Doctor trailed kisses along her jaw and to her ear. His soft tongue traced the curve of her earlobe. She pulled his shirt untucked and he arched his back to allow her access the buttons along the front. As he shrugged his shirt off, she pulled hers over her head. The rest of their clothing was discarded as easily and bare skin glowed softly in the cool moonlight.
For a moment, she felt shy, until the Doctor murmured something low and urgent against her cheek. The kiss this time was not gentle. His hands flowed over her body, against her breasts and belly and between her legs. She kissed him back with all her might. He pulled away and searched her eyes with his. Again, she felt the rolling disorientation, as if she had been submerged into water and struggled to find the surface. This time the depth of the darkness was not the sky, but his eyes, wild and familiar and filled with what she wanted to call love, or passion. He would not say, and she would not ask.
She looped one leg around him and tilted her hips against his, inviting. He released her from his gaze and bent his head to kiss her neck and jaw. Then he shifted and was against her, inside her, and she drew up her knees and moved against him. His face was buried in her neck, soft words rolling out incomprehensibly. The stars and the moon with its huge surrounding circle loomed over them and Rose pressed herself back into the ground, up against the Doctor, again, again, again.
When she came, she squeezed her eyes closed and dug her fingers into his back. He abruptly lifted his head and kissed her frantically, burying any sounds he might have made, or words he might have said, in his own climax.
Afterward, his body weighed her down. She sighed and nuzzled his neck. He was cool to the touch, even with the faint sheen of perspiration on his skin. When he lifted away from her, her skin prickled immediately into countless goose bumps and she protested. He smiled beneficently and drew the coat over her. She burrowed down into its warmth and watched him as he sat up and drew his knees to his chest, staring up at the stars.
“It’s beautiful,” she said. The exhilarating disorientation had ebbed and she felt, once again, a person on the ground, small under the sky, but pulled down, not falling out into the darkness.
The Doctor lifted his hand and traced a circle in the air, pointing to the moon and its bright ring. “It’s perfect,” he said. When he turned and met her eyes, he repeated the words. “It’s perfect.”
The words came up in her throat, the words she should not, must not, say to him. She was sure he knew already, how could he not? And she knew how he felt about her. This was the strange dance they did, soul mates and companions and lovers, but never spoken of. She had said “forever,” and saw him disbelieve her. If she told him how she felt, she would see the same disbelief and distance in those eyes and it would break her.
Instead she told him in countless ways with her movements, her actions, her eyes, and listened with her whole self for the responses he gave in the same way. It was enough.
She sat up as well and scooted over to him, resting her head on his shoulder. His bare arm came around her, again with his hand tracing gently on her back, and she felt contentment wash over her in a wave.
Above them, the moon and its ring shone in the sky, brighter than the millions of stars around it, brilliant in its icy shine, but still transient in its beauty.