Written for the Storm and Wolf ficathon over on Live Journal. My prompt was Prompt 13: Rassilon's Treatise of Talismans. As OV would have it - I'm a bad person... -grins wickedly- But I'm GOOD at it.
NOT a work safe, kid safe, or innocent mind safe chapter. PLEASE stop reading if you shouldn't be!
Rassilon's Treatise of Talismans
The Doctor leaned even closer, blue eyes hot and very dark and closely focused on her mouth. He had to kiss her, he absolutely had to do, it wasn't possible he was just going to tease her, not this time, he couldn't. Rose held her breath and waited.
Time seemed to run out on her and she squeaked in a gasp of air. The Doctor started away from her, looking like he'd done something absolutely terrible, which he hadn't, not yet. Damn. It. All.
Rose was afraid she was going to do something terrible if something didn't give and soon. She shoved Rassilon's Treatise of Talismans into the Doctor's lap, preparing to bolt to her feet and make a run for it. Several pages flipped over in her hasty gesture and the Doctor frowned down at the new picture, his eyes completely baffled.
Once again, curiosity got the better of her, and Rose couldn't resist. "This doesn't look any different from anything I found under someone's mattress. Well, it's more tasteful..." She shrugged, couldn't explain how what she was looking at was registering as something completely different from random pornography. "Was this what your people... um... preferred?"
"Time Lords aren't… like this," the Doctor explained vaguely, looking anywhere but right at Rose.
"Sorry, I'm not buying it," Rose said with a laugh. "I mean..." She gestured at the book lying in the Doctor's lap. The woman in the picture laid back across a table top, the man, who was wearing intricate, brightly colored robes that he'd shoved aside without bothering to undress, was between her thighs. As they watched, the woman opened her legs wider and the man stuffed his cock inside her hard, a fiercely possessive expression forming on his face.
Rose gestured slightly as she repressed a snicker. "Well?"
"This is a pillow book," the Doctor explained sheepishly. "It's idealized to appeal to largely celibate male intellectuals."
"You mean you wouldn't act like this stuff? You'd rather think than do?" She was, Rose realized, more than a little bit evil for not letting him off the hook, really. But then, he hadn't let her off the hook when he could have done, preferring to tease her about what the psychic book had made of her accidental daydreams. He could just be teased for preferring a slightly psychic book to a slightly – all right, extremely – horny human.
The Doctor cleared his throat and shook his head. "Well, we weren't likely to focus on the sex act itself. That's what the stories're about – the other stuff. Most telepathic species have some mental aspect to love-making. Mind, they don't have to use it, and some of the stories are about that, but…" His eyes dropped to the book again and he trailed off.
Rose grinned and let him sit there, zoned out and focused on the depicted sex scene, every heartbeat he was gone handing her ammunition. She noticed that the robes had turned crimson as he watched the picture, but mostly just counted until she was sure he'd been staring for a full minute. "But they like to?" she asked.
"What?" said the Doctor, looking up at her, thoroughly confused.
Rose giggled. "Step out for a minute there, Doctor?"
"No," he exclaimed, indignantly. "No, I was wonderin' how they managed ta shoot this one. Location's a bit... rude."
"Like if I'd had you on that table in Downing Street." Rose smirked and the Doctor's eyes widened, his ears going red at the tips. "I mean..."
Rose glanced down at the book and took it away from the Doctor. "I'm not a natural blonde," she observed.
"I know," said the Doctor.
"Imagination not so good?" she murmured. That was, after all, her lying sprawled on that table, now, being very thoroughly shagged - hard and fast - by him.
"Hum?" said the Doctor.
"This isn't my fantasy," she pointed out.
"I told you, the book's slightly psychic." The Doctor tilted his head and smiled at her, his expression wobbling between smug and embarrassed, both his ears and his cheeks tinged a charming pastel pink.
Maybe she should just… or how about… or maybe… Confusion owned her for a moment, and when it let her go, it left her with the memory that this was the most important person in her entire Universe. She couldn't just let impulse run this decision, no matter how it appealed.
She sighed, utterly defeated. "What do we do about this?" she asked. The usual, normal, them-like answer was "blame the book, laugh nervously about it, and pretend to forget we ever went this far." It hadn't ever gone this far, but every time their flirting went that step further, far enough to make one or the other of them just nervous enough, they did this. It was the alcohol, the situation, three a.m., the moons – all 35 of them. It was the air, or the water, or the way she did her hair. It was his new cologne, the red dress, the other person, the prison bars… The list and the excuses and the constraints were as endless as they were ridiculous, really.
"Dunno," the Doctor said, shrugging. "I mean, it's pretty obvious what I wanna do about it."
Rose risked a glance up at his face again, his enchanting blush and his star-struck smile. Her eyes trailed without her permission along his body and the Doctor seemed to be letting her look her fill. He undid the clasp of his belt slowly, never breaking eye-contact with her while he did. He let her see it quite clearly when he adjusted himself in his jeans, embarrassment no deterrent to the small sigh that sounded like relief when he found a more comfortable position for the rather eye-catching bulge straining against the denim.
Rose felt like the more comfortable position might be between her lips. She couldn't keep still, she wanted him so much and her clothes felt so wrong, and he would feel so right nailing her into this sofa. She almost didn't catch herself in time when she realized her hand had wandered up the front of her shirt.
Her whole face felt like it was burning. Her stomach felt like an entire migration of butterflies had taken a detour into it. Forcing herself to concentrate on something, anything, the stupid book took precedence again. "What… when the picture um… runs out? What does it do?"
"Starts again," the Doctor answered. He closed the book, tapped the cover in three separate places, then opened it again to the first scene he'd shown her, the one with the picnickers. The woman ran a hand up the man's chest. He sat and watched her while her fingers and then her lips touched him in several places. It wasn't until she kissed his lips that he acted, wasn't until she moved to help him out of his clothes that he helped her as well.
Frowning in concentration as some idea tried to prod at her – other than the idea of shoving the Doctor down like that and climbing on top of him – Rose turned the pages until she came to the next picture. This one was in some sort of lab or technical area. The woman approached the man, smiling and apparently teasing, her eyes dark and longing. Rose watched until the blonds became a blonde and a brunette, then turned the pages again.
An office or other work area showed this time. The woman just sort of tackled him and snogged the hell out of him. Flipping pages again showed a recognizable variant of a TARDIS console, though not anything like the Doctor's one. The woman moved like a predator in this one, stalking the unsuspecting Time Lord at work at the console and…
"Got it!" Rose yelped. The Doctor looked at her curiously, a hesitant grin teasing the corners of his lips just like she wanted to do with her tongue.
So she did. She leaned over, kissed his cheek gently, then let her tongue swipe the very corner of his mouth. She didn't go any farther though, just sat up and reached for the book.
"Wha?" said the Doctor as Rose closed the book and set it gently on the coffee table.
"You won't make a move on me?" Rose asked.
"Can't," the Doctor answered, and he sounded rather sad.
Rose grinned triumphantly and set the book on the coffee table. "Human women don't, normally, you know."
"Yeah," he agreed, utterly morose.
"I'm gonna though, if that's all right."
The Doctor smiled gently. "It'll change everything," he pointed out.
"Good thing, too," Rose said softly.
"Why's that?" the Doctor wondered, his voice even lower, his face somehow slightly closer.
"'Cuz it's hard wanting to shag the hell outta your best friend," Rose whispered across his lips.
"Not as hard as it's been for me," he breathed.
"You gotta point," Rose said and, before anyone could spit out any more obvious and daft puns, she kissed him hard on the mouth.
For just a second, it felt to Rose as if she was the only one involved in the kiss. Then, the Doctor's mouth moved and his lips parted. The kiss became fierce and aggressive and everything she had ever imagined it would be. "Oh god, want you," she groaned when they broke away. She got her hands tangled up in wool as she tried to wrestle his jumper off of him and he tried to pull her into his lap.
Rose couldn't resist the delightful friction of straddling the Doctor, rubbing herself rhythmically against him, heat already building to a fever pitch inside her. "Rose," he murmured. "Rose, I…" Whatever he said didn't translate, but Rose was reasonably certain she'd find the symbols that meant it in the book on the table.
"Doctor…" She'd once thought it would sound stupid calling a man 'Doctor' in bed, but they weren't in bed, it didn't look like they were going to get to bed, and she didn't know a name that suited him better after all, anyway. A fit of frustration made her jump up from his lap and start tugging at her own clothes. "I can't wait," she whimpered. "Need you, now!"
"Thought you'd never ask," he answered, standing quickly beside her. The jumper hit the floor. His boots got kicked off before Rose had managed to undo the tiny clasps of her bra, and her jeans were off just as the Doctor's hands dropped to the buttons of his. Rose, now comfortably naked, put her hands over his, but he didn't want to wait for her, just tugged open the fly and let the dark denim fall.
Rose stared at his cock, a hard outline tucked tight behind dark colored cotton. Her hand moved without her conscious permission, and she was rubbing at him through his pants before she quite knew what was going on.
The Doctor's hand covered hers, guiding her grip on him. His other hand reached for her, flickered over her dripping wet sex, one finger gliding unerringly to find her clit. Rose let her hand slip inside the Doctor's pants, felt him hardening just from her touch. She needed to see him, so used her free hand to shove his pants – the last thing barring their progress – out of her way.
The Doctor kicked their clothes roughly out of the way, but Rose could tell his entire attention was focused on her. His eyes were closed but fluttering, his lips were parted. She looked down the long, sinewy length of his body, delighting her eyes with the rangy beauty of him. He was as beautiful as his eyes, his smile, his voice. He was also every bit as impressive as he'd ever claimed to be. Rose smirked to herself. Possibly moreso.
Then, his ingenious fingers did something, found some pleasure center Rose hadn't even known she had, and she cried out for him, nearly driven to her knees under the rising tide of desire. She dragged ragged, reluctant breaths into her chest, the very air between them seeming to quiver with the fire burning inside her.
They moved in a rhythm like sex, mutual masturbation surprisingly easy to fall into after the way this particular adventure started. Rose tried to find embarrassment, modesty, even a little self-restraint, but there wasn't anything. She had her Doctor, the man she had loved and wanted for so long she almost believed it had always been like this. She was naked with him and before him, and it was completely natural.
The pressure between her thighs was building to explosive proportions. "No!" Rose exclaimed, and wriggled out of the Doctor's grip, gasping at the air, trying to calm herself a little. "Not yet," she pleaded, when he shot her a confused look. "Want you in me."
"Slower next time?" the Doctor offered, stilling his hips with effort and catching her hands.
Rose grinned, then nodded. "That'd be good," she said with a determined nod.
The Doctor lifted her, large hands securing the backs of her thighs like they'd been designed to hold her. His eyes were burning, and Rose just wanted him, please, now, inside her, please. She wasn't sure what of that she said aloud, but she knew very well some words escaped her while she clung to his shoulders and traced her tongue along his collarbone.
She could feel the broad tip of his cock at her wet little cunt, and she was aching, clenching, dripping for him. "Please," she murmured, and tried to move so she could lower herself onto him. She couldn't remember ever having wanted anyone anywhere near this much.
"Rose," he groaned, "what about...?"
"Oh fuck, just, now Doctor."
With a groan so deep it seemed to have been pulled up from the heart of the ship and channeled through him, the Doctor loosened his grip enough to lower Rose down onto him. It was pleasure so intense it was nearly painful, the feeling of him filling her up so fully, stretching her, touching her in places she'd never known she had. "God!" Rose yelped.
"You're so..." the Doctor murmured through tightly gritted teeth. He lifted her, then lowered her again, gasping for breath on each movement. "Beautiful."
Rose had her head bent back, her spine arched, trying to feel everything all at once. She could feel his cock stretching her, feel every single inch of him, every slide and quiver and twitch of him. Her taut nipples jutted a pebbled invitation for his mouth, his teeth, his tongue. Her clit was pulsing as their movements dragged it against his cock, her internal muscles were grasping, and the very deepest part of her, where he touched her in such a new and strange way, was tingling and sparking and almost but not quite hurting. Every single movement felt better than the last, but this way, just wrapped around him while he stood here in the middle of the room, it just wasn't enough anymore. She needed friction, leverage, something.
The Doctor seemed to catch on to that thought, because his hands readjusted, one reaching to support her weight entirely on its own - she tightened her legs around him to make that easier - one spreading out to sweep the clutter of papers from his desktop. Rose hoped there was nothing important on it, and then he was lowering her onto the desk - carefully, so that he didn't have to withdraw from her body. "Nothin' important," the Doctor muttered, and then his lips came down and closed on the begging peak of one of her nipples.
Rose's back arched as he nipped at her tender skin, and she cried out his name when he soothed the small hurt with a slow brush of a cool tongue. When he tilted his head to the other nipple, she squirmed hard because, while what he was doing felt amazing, he'd stopped moving to pay attention to her breasts.
"You're..." She broke off with a gasp as he withdrew and then thrust into her again, free to move now that the desk supported her. He rocked slowly, rhythmically, and Rose got the idea he was trying to prolong this indefinitely. "Fucking huge," she groaned as a tilt of her pelvis seemed to allow even more of him inside her. "God, so fucking good." This wasn't what she meant to say, but she kept getting distracted. It had been too damn long for her, and she had no idea how she was going to last even long enough to finish a coherent sentence.
"So close," the Doctor murmured, hands on her hips, pulling her to the very edge of the desk. His face was buried in her shoulder now, and Rose could feel him nip at her with his teeth every three or four times he plunged into her.
That was the question. "Are you reading my mind?"
"Want to," the Doctor answered shortly. "Not doing it now." He groaned and let go of her, shoving her down onto her back again, lifting her bum off the desk with one hand.
Rose mumbled a rather delirious series of curses that made the Doctor chuckle lightly. The sensation and strange movement made her groan and tighten her muscles on him deliberately. He groaned and swore in response to that, which made her chuckle at him this time. He shot her a stern, wicked, beautiful look and thrust hard into her, until she cried out. Then, he slowed his movements to a languorous rocking, her hips and his pelvis angled just right to burn her clit with his shaft with every movement.
"Why?" she asked, though she couldn't remember what she thought she wanted to know.
"Didn't say I could," he reminded her.
Oh, right. "Please," she whispered, not just for that but for everything.
"Next time," he answered, and moved hard, punctuating each thrust with a low, visceral cry. "Can't wait."
Good point, Rose thought. She was burning, warm and deep and building, and his motion was getting erratic and unsteady. "Coming, Doctor?" she murmured, smiling wickedly at the thought of holding that over his head.
"You first," he groaned. He lifted one of her legs onto his shoulder, the other hand falling down to torment her throbbing, quivering little clit. Rose jerked, tried to get away from him. He moved like fate inside her, hard and fast and unstoppable. It was too much, way too much, she couldn't, not like... god... this... "Doctor!!"
The orgasm didn't so much wash as tidal wave over her, and then it swamped her in blinding white light and sensation that was blazing and breathless, that didn't leave, that raced up and down her nerves, that owned her. She quivered in pleasure, gasped and shuddered and cried, and it just went on and on.
Him, always. Her Doctor. Forever.
"Rose, Rose, Rose..." His teeth clenched around the words, like he was trying to hold them back, as much as the rest of him. Rose came back to herself in time to watch him break, his control gone, his voice rising to an incoherent shout as he threw his head back. Rose had never seen him more beautiful, frozen in this moment, an expression of perfect ecstasy glorious on his face as he came hard inside her. The tableau held just like that for a second, and then he collapsed, shaking and muttering, dropping to his knees before her.
She was still spread before him when he looked up into her face, his eyes shining. Not breaking her gaze, he placed a gentle kiss on her opening and one on her clit that caused her hips to buck. He flashed her a lazy, sated grin before he reached for her. Rose was still shaking from the force of their joining when he cupped her hips in gentle hands, pulling her boneless form into his embrace. Blue eyes dancing, the Doctor relaxed and toppled over, Rose landing on top of him, where they sprawled, entangled on the thick rug.
"Cultural differences," the Doctor explained into Rose's sweat-damp but drying hair.
"Hum?" she murmured, distant and dazed.
"Just, you know, this," he said. His hand brushed over her skin as he gestured, nearly as Rose could tell with him curled up behind her, at the whole room.
"Yeah, I can tell," Rose said. "Human men tend to lose consciousness. You would talk instead."
"That ok?" the Doctor wondered. He sounded to Rose's long trained ears like he was genuinely worried and didn't want her to know.
"Course, it's fine," she said softly. "Better than. I wanna know everything about this and about us, and if you wanna talk about it right now, I'm just glad." She paused thoughtfully, then turned over to look him in the eye. "Is it always gonna be like this?"
The Doctor's eyes were over-bright again and laughing at the same time. "I'm just glad ta hear you're interested in trying it again."
Rose curled her leg up over his hip and wriggled closer, just to make sure she made her point. "I hope you are, too," she invited with a coy little smile. Her brow furrowed of its own accord when it suddenly occurred to her. "Do I haveta start things all the time?"
The Doctor's free hand cupped her shoulder while he propped himself up to look at her with the other. His eyes went distant and thoughtful. "I'd been wonderin' for months, you know. I sorta thought you might want me, but you never said."
"You never said neither," Rose pointed out. She looked across the room toward the book, then back up at the Doctor, smiling. "I'm glad I found that thing. I was starting to tell myself you were asexual or something."
The Doctor lowered his hand from her shoulder to her hip, tugging her lightly closer to him. She could clearly feel that he was already halfway hard again between them. "Not asexual, love," he said, his voice like dark chocolate sin.
Rose grinned as wickedly as she could manage. Judging by the Doctor's shiver, she did a decent job. "But why didn't you say?" she wondered, letting her fingers meander over the smooth planes of his spare, muscular chest. She could feel the doubled beat of his hearts and couldn't resist leaning forward to trail kisses between them. "This was never your first time, there's no way, you're too damn good."
The Doctor shook his head. "S'been a while, though." He tilted her chin up and kissed her again, more sweetly this time, tongue sweeping out to tease her lips. "I had to apply my rules to you. At first, it was just to keep you at arms length, remind myself I couldn't have you, because you wouldn't understand."
Rose waved a frustrated hand, then rested it on his sternum. "You have me," she said, firmly. "At the moment, it's on this floor and naked, but you have me all the time, however I need to be for you… for us."
The Doctor closed his eyes, an expression of fierce joy beginning to stir his eyes and his slowly building grin. When he looked at her again, his irises were indigo and his gaze was so intense that Rose felt like she was falling into it. "Us," he said, as if it was a truly beautiful word. "Rose."
"Stay with me?"
"Of course," she said, puzzled.
His brow crinkled in frustration. "No, I mean…"
Rose put a hand up over his lips. "Of course," she repeated, intent to make him hear her this time. "Of course you, of course me, of course us, and staying, and here and together." She peered deep and intent into his eyes. "OK?"
The Doctor's beaming face could have served as a star. "Of course," he agreed.
Rose let her fingers wander over his skin, smiling to herself, lost in thought. Forever with this man might not really be long enough, but it was going to have to be tried. He wasn't perfect by anyone's definition, but oh, the Doctor was perfect for Rose Tyler. She smiled and wriggled her hips, trying to get closer, enjoying the little sound that escaped him.
All at once, she was flat on her back, the Doctor above her. "Rose," he said. "We're together now?"
"And you'll stay with me, right?"
She nodded and he nodded back, something fun and filthy building up behind his eyes.
"Then, if I'm yours and you're mine…" He smirked knowingly when she gasped and writhed in response to his shifting hips. "Then, I can initiate things."
The Doctor pushed slowly inside her. Rose, happier than she ever thought she would be, opened up for him, for them. Together, as they should be, they moved.