Fic: Sharing 1/1
Fic: Sharing
Author: WMR
wendymr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler
Rated: PG13 for implied... stuff ;)
Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly, or we'd have seen a lot more of this on our screens
Summary: Already her mind’s wandering to what they’re going to do; how they’re going to spend the night.
Author's note: Written as part of the Fear Her Missing Scene Fic Challenge, for
christn7, who asked me to and who deserves a bit of TLC. As ever, much love to
dark_aegis for BRing.
Sharing
“All right, so explain it to me again. Why can’t we go back to the TARDIS?”
“Well...” He’s rubbing the back of his neck and not exactly looking at her, and she knows he’s not been completely truthful. “We can’t. Well, strictly, I can’t. Nothing stopping you going back if you’d rather.”
Like hell she’s going anywhere without him. “But what’s this all about?”
Now he meets her gaze. “The Isolus. Because I got inside Chloe’s head, it knows me now. And it’s even more frightened than before, and that means it’s going to want to steal more and more people away to keep it company, and I can’t let it do that.”
“Okay, so how exactly you gonna stop it?”
He just smiles faintly and taps the side of his head.
“I get it, more mystical Time Lordy stuff? Not even gonna tell me what?”
He gives a faint shake of his head, then strides to the double bed and plonks himself down in the middle of it. She comes to sit beside him, and already her mind’s wandering to what they’re going to do; how they’re going to spend the night.
Won’t be the first time they’ve shared a room overnight, but on the other times he either went walkabout while she was asleep or spent the night awake, working on some problem or other. She suspects it’ll be like that again, so really there’s not even any point wondering, is there?
Though part of her’s wondering, too, if he’s thinking about doors and carpets and mortgages and sharing, and feeling trapped shut here in this room with her. Though the smile he gives her doesn’t suggest so.
“When I was inside Chloe’s mind, I forged a connection. It’ll hold over short distances, so as long as I stay in the house or outside on the street it’s fine. I can’t control the Isolus, but I can make it feel a bit less alone - ”
“An’ as long as it does that it’ll stop sucking people up?”
He gives her his I’m so clever grin. “Yup!”
Torn between laughing at his egotism and hugging him, she chooses the latter.
***
The house is silent; Chloe and Tricia are asleep. She would be, too, only it’s so long since she’s slept in an ordinary bed in an ordinary house, without the hum of the TARDIS surrounding her. It just feels weird.
The Doctor, exactly as she suspected, is busy. He settled into a corner, sitting against the wall with his eyes hooded, “thinking,” he told her. If she listens closely, she can hear his breathing, gentle and not quite even, which tells her that he’s still awake. It’s not quite as good as having the TARDIS in her ear, but it’s still nice.
“Rose?” Even though she knows he’s awake, the low murmur surprises her.
“Doctor?”
There’s a shuffling sound, and suddenly a weight lands on the bed next to her, and a sprawling limb almost thumps her on the nose. “Oi! Careful!” she mutters at him.
“Oh! Sorry.” The limb’s withdrawn. “Can’t sleep?”
“Nah.” She pulls a face, then realises he can’t see it. “Think I’m just too used to sleeping on the TARDIS. ‘S too quiet here.”
The bed shakes again and, as her eyes adjust to the darkness, she can see that he’s rolled over and is looking at her, his face inches from her own. “Quiet? Quiet? In London in this century? Rose, you humans have made noise pollution into an art form!”
“Wrong kind of noise.”
“Oh.” He’s silent for a few moments, still studying her. Although she’s used to finding him staring at her all the time, this feels a little unnerving. After all, it’s some time in the small hours of the morning and he’s lying on a bed next to her, with no more than six inches or so of space between them. “Not too late to go back to the TARDIS.”
“Nah.” She shakes her head a little. “Have to get dressed again if I want to do that.”
Her clothes are currently on the floor, jeans and denim jacket, with her bra rolled up inside, and she’s wearing her knickers and the flimsy pink camisole. Okay, she could get dressed in the dark, and it’s not like she’s really bothered by the thought that the Doctor might see her bare legs, or see more cleavage than she usually displays - he’s patched her up in the med-lab often enough - but still.
“Just have to try harder, then, won’t you?” He grins at her, and she sticks out her tongue at him.
“Oi!” he protests. “That’s not nice, Rose Tyler!” But, before she can say anything in her defence, he adds, “Do that again.”
“Do what?”
“Stick out your tongue.”
“What?” She rolls her eyes but, at his impatient look, obeys. His eyes narrow and he stares.
“What? Something wrong with my tongue?”
“Oh! No! It’s a lovely tongue. Lovely! Just as it should be - all human and pink and tongue-like.”
“Then what -?”
He gestures in a very Doctorish way with one hand, so she shuts it and sticks her tongue out again.
And she’s stunned rigid when he leans up on one elbow, stretches towards her, sticks out his own tongue and licks hers.
***
She can’t help herself. She yelps and jerks away.
“Doctor! Look, licking marmalade from your fingers is one thing, but this is ridiculous!”
“Oh.” He looks just like a chastened puppy. “Was that rude?”
Was it rude...? Is he just having her on, or does he really not have a clue?
“Well, let’s just say you better not try it with anyone you don’t know. Or, well, almost everyone you do know, either,” she adds quickly, having visions of her mum’s reaction if he were to do it to her.
“Almost?” Suddenly, he’s looking interested. “You telling me it’s okay to lick your tongue, Rose Tyler?”
“Of course it’s bloody well not!” she protests, but she’s feeling a flush creep across her face at the same time. It’s too dark for him to notice, right?
“Liar,” he taunts, and his grin’s stretching.
“See how you like it, Doctor!” she retorts without thinking, and leans towards him. Only problem is, he’s not sticking his tongue out, and so she has to mash her lips against his and work her tongue into his mouth to lick his...
...and halfway through she’s realising all the reasons why this is a really bad idea. Really, really bad idea.
His hands are at her waist through the thin duvet, and she’s sure he’s going to shove her away from him and jump off the bed as if she’s just burned him. But, instead, he sighs into her mouth and his lips part further, and his tongue strokes hers back.
Confused, she pulls back and stares at him.
His eyes are wide, but there’s an impish smile on his lips. “You call that a kiss, Rose Tyler? Thought you’d be better at it than that. I mean, all those boyfriends of yours - Mickey, Adam, and especially Captain Jack...”
The fact that she only ever kissed one of those three, unless she counts Jack’s farewell kiss, isn’t something she decides to take up with him right now. Because... she kissed him - well, sort of - and he’s not furious? Not going into lofty, distant Time Lord mode and telling her how wrong it is?
So she just can’t resist. “Maybe you’ll have to show me how to do it better.”
His smile is wicked. “Maybe I will.”
And he does know; oh, how he knows. Slow and tantalising kisses to begin with, gradually turning into intense, toe-curling kisses that make her want to rip his clothes off. But he controls the pace, his hands on her body preventing her from getting as close to him as she’d like to.
Then he draws back and studies her, before diving in again and stroking his tongue along her jaw. “Mmm.” He grins. “Interesting taste.”
“What do I taste like, then?” she can’t resist asking.
“Ooh, let me see...” He grins. “Carbon, fatty acids, salt, sweat, oils - d’you want the complete list? And all topped off with just a hint of cucumber melon.”
The soap in Tricia’s bathroom. Right.
And this oral fixation of his has just got really interesting. She holds back the devilish smile that wants to escape and asks, with just the right touch of innocence, “So, would I taste the same all over, then?”
“Ooh, probably,” he says, flopping back to lie on his back. She stifles a sigh of disappointment. And then he rolls over again, eyes wide and bright. “Though we should probably make sure, shouldn’t we? Just in the interests of knowledge, of course.”
“Of course.” She grins impishly, then throws back the duvet.
“Hmm.” He studies her, and she suspects that he does see a lot better in the dark than she does. “Where do you think’d be the best place to test?” One long finger draws a line from the hollow of her throat into the valley between her breasts. “Could taste you right... here.” His finger halts in the centre, and she feels a pang of disappointment that she’s lying on her back and so her breasts are sort of tilted to the side, not the centre.
“Or... here.” His other hand presses against her abdomen, and she stifles regret that it’s through her camisole and not under it.
But she’s got an answer to that. “What, through my clothes?”
He grins. “That’d probably be a bit difficult, I suppose.”
This is getting really interesting. And there’s a devil perched on her shoulder tempting her to suggest he tastes her somewhere she knows she’ll definitely taste different. But that feels like a step too far for now. Not that she doesn’t want it - no question, she bloody well does - but if she pushes it too far he’ll retreat. No doubt about that.
“So...” she says, giving him a challenging look, and then deliberately flicks at the hem of her camisole. His hand moves to it and slowly - and, she’s convinced, deliberately ticklishly - begins to push it up.
“Hey, wait just a second, Doctor,” she objects. “ ‘S really not fair, you know.”
“What isn’t?” That look of adorable confusion’s making her want to reach up and snog the living daylights out of him. But, if she plays her cards right, she might just end up getting a lot more than that.
“You.” She flicks at his shirt - at least he took his jacket off before sitting down earlier. “If you get to take my top off, then ‘s only fair if I get to take yours off.”
“What, you want to lick me too?” he enquires, both looking and sounding surprised.
She shrugs. “Never licked a Time Lord, have I? For all I know, you could taste of fish an’ ice-cream.”
He laughs, and in one efficient movement strips off his shirt and T-shirt. Then, before she can even blink, he’s tugged her camisole over her head.
Lips and tongue trail down her chest, detour over her breasts, cross her abdomen and then stop at the barrier of her knickers. And, as he glances up at her, silently asking permission to go further, the look in his eyes makes clear that, whether or not this really did begin as an experiment, it ceased to be one long ago.
Because she has to, she tugs at his arm and makes clear that she wants him back up next to her. As soon as he complies, she kisses him. He smiles against her mouth, kissing her back every bit as enthusiastically as a few minutes ago. His body pressing against hers is equally enthusiastic.
“We doin’ this, then?” she whispers to him as the kiss ends.
“S’pose we might as well.” He winks at her. “I mean, if you can’t sleep, and I don’t sleep, and we’re really sort of trapped in here until morning... got to do something to pass the time.”
She grins. “We could play I-Spy.”
“We could.” One hand slides inside her knickers. “Or we could play I-Feel.”
Sounds like an excellent idea, she muses as she imitates him and cops a feel of her own. And, half an hour or so later, as he finally declares himself completely familiar with the taste of Rose Tyler head to toe and gives her what she’s been aching for the whole time, she unilaterally declares herself the winner of their little I-Feel contest.
Not that he’s exactly lost, he informs her. They’re both winners. At any rate, they get to share the prize. Each other.
END
Author: WMR
wendymr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler
Rated: PG13 for implied... stuff ;)
Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly, or we'd have seen a lot more of this on our screens
Summary: Already her mind’s wandering to what they’re going to do; how they’re going to spend the night.
Author's note: Written as part of the Fear Her Missing Scene Fic Challenge, for
christn7, who asked me to and who deserves a bit of TLC. As ever, much love to
dark_aegis for BRing.
Sharing
“All right, so explain it to me again. Why can’t we go back to the TARDIS?”
“Well...” He’s rubbing the back of his neck and not exactly looking at her, and she knows he’s not been completely truthful. “We can’t. Well, strictly, I can’t. Nothing stopping you going back if you’d rather.”
Like hell she’s going anywhere without him. “But what’s this all about?”
Now he meets her gaze. “The Isolus. Because I got inside Chloe’s head, it knows me now. And it’s even more frightened than before, and that means it’s going to want to steal more and more people away to keep it company, and I can’t let it do that.”
“Okay, so how exactly you gonna stop it?”
He just smiles faintly and taps the side of his head.
“I get it, more mystical Time Lordy stuff? Not even gonna tell me what?”
He gives a faint shake of his head, then strides to the double bed and plonks himself down in the middle of it. She comes to sit beside him, and already her mind’s wandering to what they’re going to do; how they’re going to spend the night.
Won’t be the first time they’ve shared a room overnight, but on the other times he either went walkabout while she was asleep or spent the night awake, working on some problem or other. She suspects it’ll be like that again, so really there’s not even any point wondering, is there?
Though part of her’s wondering, too, if he’s thinking about doors and carpets and mortgages and sharing, and feeling trapped shut here in this room with her. Though the smile he gives her doesn’t suggest so.
“When I was inside Chloe’s mind, I forged a connection. It’ll hold over short distances, so as long as I stay in the house or outside on the street it’s fine. I can’t control the Isolus, but I can make it feel a bit less alone - ”
“An’ as long as it does that it’ll stop sucking people up?”
He gives her his I’m so clever grin. “Yup!”
Torn between laughing at his egotism and hugging him, she chooses the latter.
***
The house is silent; Chloe and Tricia are asleep. She would be, too, only it’s so long since she’s slept in an ordinary bed in an ordinary house, without the hum of the TARDIS surrounding her. It just feels weird.
The Doctor, exactly as she suspected, is busy. He settled into a corner, sitting against the wall with his eyes hooded, “thinking,” he told her. If she listens closely, she can hear his breathing, gentle and not quite even, which tells her that he’s still awake. It’s not quite as good as having the TARDIS in her ear, but it’s still nice.
“Rose?” Even though she knows he’s awake, the low murmur surprises her.
“Doctor?”
There’s a shuffling sound, and suddenly a weight lands on the bed next to her, and a sprawling limb almost thumps her on the nose. “Oi! Careful!” she mutters at him.
“Oh! Sorry.” The limb’s withdrawn. “Can’t sleep?”
“Nah.” She pulls a face, then realises he can’t see it. “Think I’m just too used to sleeping on the TARDIS. ‘S too quiet here.”
The bed shakes again and, as her eyes adjust to the darkness, she can see that he’s rolled over and is looking at her, his face inches from her own. “Quiet? Quiet? In London in this century? Rose, you humans have made noise pollution into an art form!”
“Wrong kind of noise.”
“Oh.” He’s silent for a few moments, still studying her. Although she’s used to finding him staring at her all the time, this feels a little unnerving. After all, it’s some time in the small hours of the morning and he’s lying on a bed next to her, with no more than six inches or so of space between them. “Not too late to go back to the TARDIS.”
“Nah.” She shakes her head a little. “Have to get dressed again if I want to do that.”
Her clothes are currently on the floor, jeans and denim jacket, with her bra rolled up inside, and she’s wearing her knickers and the flimsy pink camisole. Okay, she could get dressed in the dark, and it’s not like she’s really bothered by the thought that the Doctor might see her bare legs, or see more cleavage than she usually displays - he’s patched her up in the med-lab often enough - but still.
“Just have to try harder, then, won’t you?” He grins at her, and she sticks out her tongue at him.
“Oi!” he protests. “That’s not nice, Rose Tyler!” But, before she can say anything in her defence, he adds, “Do that again.”
“Do what?”
“Stick out your tongue.”
“What?” She rolls her eyes but, at his impatient look, obeys. His eyes narrow and he stares.
“What? Something wrong with my tongue?”
“Oh! No! It’s a lovely tongue. Lovely! Just as it should be - all human and pink and tongue-like.”
“Then what -?”
He gestures in a very Doctorish way with one hand, so she shuts it and sticks her tongue out again.
And she’s stunned rigid when he leans up on one elbow, stretches towards her, sticks out his own tongue and licks hers.
***
She can’t help herself. She yelps and jerks away.
“Doctor! Look, licking marmalade from your fingers is one thing, but this is ridiculous!”
“Oh.” He looks just like a chastened puppy. “Was that rude?”
Was it rude...? Is he just having her on, or does he really not have a clue?
“Well, let’s just say you better not try it with anyone you don’t know. Or, well, almost everyone you do know, either,” she adds quickly, having visions of her mum’s reaction if he were to do it to her.
“Almost?” Suddenly, he’s looking interested. “You telling me it’s okay to lick your tongue, Rose Tyler?”
“Of course it’s bloody well not!” she protests, but she’s feeling a flush creep across her face at the same time. It’s too dark for him to notice, right?
“Liar,” he taunts, and his grin’s stretching.
“See how you like it, Doctor!” she retorts without thinking, and leans towards him. Only problem is, he’s not sticking his tongue out, and so she has to mash her lips against his and work her tongue into his mouth to lick his...
...and halfway through she’s realising all the reasons why this is a really bad idea. Really, really bad idea.
His hands are at her waist through the thin duvet, and she’s sure he’s going to shove her away from him and jump off the bed as if she’s just burned him. But, instead, he sighs into her mouth and his lips part further, and his tongue strokes hers back.
Confused, she pulls back and stares at him.
His eyes are wide, but there’s an impish smile on his lips. “You call that a kiss, Rose Tyler? Thought you’d be better at it than that. I mean, all those boyfriends of yours - Mickey, Adam, and especially Captain Jack...”
The fact that she only ever kissed one of those three, unless she counts Jack’s farewell kiss, isn’t something she decides to take up with him right now. Because... she kissed him - well, sort of - and he’s not furious? Not going into lofty, distant Time Lord mode and telling her how wrong it is?
So she just can’t resist. “Maybe you’ll have to show me how to do it better.”
His smile is wicked. “Maybe I will.”
And he does know; oh, how he knows. Slow and tantalising kisses to begin with, gradually turning into intense, toe-curling kisses that make her want to rip his clothes off. But he controls the pace, his hands on her body preventing her from getting as close to him as she’d like to.
Then he draws back and studies her, before diving in again and stroking his tongue along her jaw. “Mmm.” He grins. “Interesting taste.”
“What do I taste like, then?” she can’t resist asking.
“Ooh, let me see...” He grins. “Carbon, fatty acids, salt, sweat, oils - d’you want the complete list? And all topped off with just a hint of cucumber melon.”
The soap in Tricia’s bathroom. Right.
And this oral fixation of his has just got really interesting. She holds back the devilish smile that wants to escape and asks, with just the right touch of innocence, “So, would I taste the same all over, then?”
“Ooh, probably,” he says, flopping back to lie on his back. She stifles a sigh of disappointment. And then he rolls over again, eyes wide and bright. “Though we should probably make sure, shouldn’t we? Just in the interests of knowledge, of course.”
“Of course.” She grins impishly, then throws back the duvet.
“Hmm.” He studies her, and she suspects that he does see a lot better in the dark than she does. “Where do you think’d be the best place to test?” One long finger draws a line from the hollow of her throat into the valley between her breasts. “Could taste you right... here.” His finger halts in the centre, and she feels a pang of disappointment that she’s lying on her back and so her breasts are sort of tilted to the side, not the centre.
“Or... here.” His other hand presses against her abdomen, and she stifles regret that it’s through her camisole and not under it.
But she’s got an answer to that. “What, through my clothes?”
He grins. “That’d probably be a bit difficult, I suppose.”
This is getting really interesting. And there’s a devil perched on her shoulder tempting her to suggest he tastes her somewhere she knows she’ll definitely taste different. But that feels like a step too far for now. Not that she doesn’t want it - no question, she bloody well does - but if she pushes it too far he’ll retreat. No doubt about that.
“So...” she says, giving him a challenging look, and then deliberately flicks at the hem of her camisole. His hand moves to it and slowly - and, she’s convinced, deliberately ticklishly - begins to push it up.
“Hey, wait just a second, Doctor,” she objects. “ ‘S really not fair, you know.”
“What isn’t?” That look of adorable confusion’s making her want to reach up and snog the living daylights out of him. But, if she plays her cards right, she might just end up getting a lot more than that.
“You.” She flicks at his shirt - at least he took his jacket off before sitting down earlier. “If you get to take my top off, then ‘s only fair if I get to take yours off.”
“What, you want to lick me too?” he enquires, both looking and sounding surprised.
She shrugs. “Never licked a Time Lord, have I? For all I know, you could taste of fish an’ ice-cream.”
He laughs, and in one efficient movement strips off his shirt and T-shirt. Then, before she can even blink, he’s tugged her camisole over her head.
Lips and tongue trail down her chest, detour over her breasts, cross her abdomen and then stop at the barrier of her knickers. And, as he glances up at her, silently asking permission to go further, the look in his eyes makes clear that, whether or not this really did begin as an experiment, it ceased to be one long ago.
Because she has to, she tugs at his arm and makes clear that she wants him back up next to her. As soon as he complies, she kisses him. He smiles against her mouth, kissing her back every bit as enthusiastically as a few minutes ago. His body pressing against hers is equally enthusiastic.
“We doin’ this, then?” she whispers to him as the kiss ends.
“S’pose we might as well.” He winks at her. “I mean, if you can’t sleep, and I don’t sleep, and we’re really sort of trapped in here until morning... got to do something to pass the time.”
She grins. “We could play I-Spy.”
“We could.” One hand slides inside her knickers. “Or we could play I-Feel.”
Sounds like an excellent idea, she muses as she imitates him and cops a feel of her own. And, half an hour or so later, as he finally declares himself completely familiar with the taste of Rose Tyler head to toe and gives her what she’s been aching for the whole time, she unilaterally declares herself the winner of their little I-Feel contest.
Not that he’s exactly lost, he informs her. They’re both winners. At any rate, they get to share the prize. Each other.
END