Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.
This Human Thing
She leads him up the stairs, her limp hand held tight in his. They pass closets and corridors, libraries and guestrooms until they reach what he thinks is her bedroom. Leaning against the door, she looks up at him.
"This is my room… You can see it if you'd like."
He nods his head slowly, swallowing loudly in the stillness of the hallway.
"You're being awfully quiet." Opening the door, she steps in and lets him pass before she shuts it with a click.
"I just don't want to mess this up, this one chance I have with you." His voice cracks, from fear, nervousness, sadness, or just from plain lack of use he doesn't know.
"Don't put that pressure on this, on us, on me. Besides, if we're gonna be honest, there's not much more messin' left to do at the moment." Her voice has taken on a brassy, bitter tone he's never heard from her. She's doesn't even notice until he leans away as if slapped, his downcast eyes tracing patterns in the carpet at their feet.
"Oh." He mutters softly. The word hangs in the air, pressing against their ears like ill-fitting earmuffs and leaks into their brains.
"No, no, no. I didn't mean it like that. Please don't think I'm not glad you're here. I didn't mean it," she repeats, more to herself than him. Her thumb wipes hesitant circles against the edge of his cheek before she covers the outermost side of his face with her soft, wonderful hand.
"Oh," he whispers again softly, leaning heavily into her touch. This is enough for him, for now, but she leans in close as her lips part. Hovering nearer still to his mouth, she presses a single, swift kiss against it.
His eyes drift closed. "Oh, oh, oh." His voice is much louder than before. Suddenly, his body is in a much closer state to hers than it's ever been before and his hands splay wide on the sides of her hips. Falling against him, she catapults him onto the bed where they tangle together quite seamlessly. Feet sliding out of trainers so wiggling toes can rub up and down her leg, he kisses her back with unpracticed pushes of his lips against hers and gentle swipes across every part of her he can reach.
She's sinking, but she's flying at the same time and her head is whirling. It's almost like being back in the TARDIS, in that one moment where he's about to throw the doors open and blind her with something brilliant. But, this time, he's what's brilliant. He's what's taking her breath away and it's different but still the same. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his shoulder through the fabric separating them.
He mutters, so low and melodic that she thinks he's singing even though she can't hear the words and soon she's humming along. His breathing slackens off, coming in steady and going out slow. When she looks up, he's asleep, mouth slightly open and hair dangling in his face. If she peers close enough, she can just make out a tiny sliver of the whites of his eyes. She settles in against him, and he pulls her so that she just sort of fits. Like they've been doing this for as long as either of them could remember.
She watches him sleep for awhile, while his face is clear and smooth and his eyes dance behind his closed eyelids.
She wonders if he's dreaming about her and the thought makes her heart flutter.
Maybe this human thing's not so bad after all.