"Sweetheart?"
"Hm?" River was definitely half asleep still, but the Doctor had to ask anyway.
"Where does all the lingerie come from?"
"Sexy," River mumbled.
He smirked. "Well, yes, you are very sexy, and especially hard to resist when you're wearing little scraps of lace and see-through-"
"I meant Sexy keeps them in a closet for me. Thanks though."
His babbling ceased. "Oh. Well, you're welcome." He set about playing with the mountain of curls splayed across his bare chest. "She does know just how to make my blood run hot, doesn't she?" His nimble fingers had quickly made a neat little braid, and he started on another. "I love your hair. I'm so jealous of your hair."
"You've got quite the impressive pompadour yourself," she mumbled sleepily, tightening her clutching embrace around his naked body.
He laughed. "What, this floppy mess?" It's devil's work trying to keep it out of my face when I need to. And it tickles your forehead when we're... you know. I can tell."
"Most feared man in the universe and you can't say 'sex'. So childish."
"I don't think a child could've made you moan like you did last night," he whispered huskily.
Readjusting her head, she muttered, "There's my dirty-talking Doctor," into the hollow of his throat. He caressed her head and allowed himself to just sleep with his beautiful and obviously exhausted wife.
