The Doctor was nervous.
They'd tumbled into the hotel room during some ungodly hour of the morning, having just been forcibly expelled from the TARDIS. The Doctor's pockets had, for once, failed them, having been depressingly bereft of money. Fitz hadn't been exactly well-off either, forcing Trix to pay for them. The Doctor wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know where her sudden wealth had come from. At any rate, they'd only been able to snag a one-bed room. Trix had claimed the couch immediately, unwilling to share a bed with someone. Fitz, too tired to argue, had just shrugged and stripped off his shirt before crawling under the covers.
The Doctor had decided that tonight would be one of the rare nights he slept, but that idea had been quickly dispatched. About midway through the night, Fitz had stolen all the blankets and, when the Doctor had tried to retrieve one, given him a kick that almost sent him crashing to the floor.
So now the Doctor was just lying there, wide-awake and feeling uncharacteristically off. The lack of blankets bothered him, but not because he was cold. It was the principle of the thing, he decided. One just needed to be under a cover when in bed. He cast his gaze about the room, musing on the shadows. It was about four or five in the morning, the Doctor guessed. The sun hadn't risen yet and the room was suffused with a fuzzy gray light. He looked at the black shape that was, presumably, Trix curled up on the couch, then stared at the ceiling, attempting to count the cracks. The poor lighting made it a bit too much for even his eyes to handle and he gave up before turning onto his side and starting. He hadn't realized Fitz was so close.
His companion had rolled into his side of the bed, taking the stolen blankets with. He was sound asleep and snoring softly. With the dim light muting his sharp features, Fitz looked rather peaceful. The Doctor stared at him, transfixed, before realizing his hearts were beating just a tad too quickly for his liking. He shifted slightly, trying to edge away, uncomfortably aware of the edge of the mattress against the curve of his spine. Fitz, as if sensing his discomfort, moved closer, turning in towards the Doctor so they were almost touching. His bed-mussed hair had fallen over his eyes and his lips were parted slightly. The Doctor couldn't help but notice how soft they looked.
The Doctor groaned inwardly and shut his eyes. What was wrong with him? He should be worrying about how to fix the TARDIS, not lying here thinking about how pretty his companion was. The Doctor frowned. Had he really just thought that? Pretty? He didn't usually dwell on people's looks, he knew that. So why…?
The Doctor opened one eye, chancing a look. Had he really not noticed this before? No, this had to be a result of the events on Espero. Right. That was it. There were still some left-over human bits in him, messing about with his emotions. That explained…whatever it was he was feeling. The Doctor closed his eye and ran a mental checklist: increased hearts-rate, flushed skin, shallower-than-normal breathing, all brought about by increased proximity to another being. Surely some sort of human emotion fit those symptoms…
No, wait. A crush? The Doctor opened his eyes, alarmed. That was impossible. Although he wasn't incredibly romantic, he'd been in relationships before, but he'd never experienced something as juvenile as a crush.
Beside him, Fitz made a sleepy noise that the Doctor found incredibly endearing, moving closer still and sending his pulse sky-rocketing. This wasn't fair; he wasn't human, he shouldn't have to suffer like this.
Fitz was close enough for him to kiss, if he wanted to. But no, that wasn't something you did to sleeping people. The Doctor was well aware that he had a habit of kissing people - he'd kissed Fitz before, in fact - but they tending to be spur-of-the-moment things, a way to express his excitement and happiness. It had been a while since he'd actually thought about kissing someone, deliberately.
But Fitz was asleep and that wasn't going to happen. The Doctor settled for brushing his companion's hair out of his face instead, fingers trembling slightly. Fitz had long eyelashes, he noticed, dark against his pale skin. The Doctor was struck by the sudden realization that, really, Fitz had nice eyes. Wide and gray and full of a charming vulnerability.
An intense, protective urge welled up inside him, pressing against his hearts. The Doctor wanted to hold his companion, keep him safe, even though the hotel room was one of the least dangerous things he'd seen. Surely that would be all right? The Doctor made to move his arm and Fitz, seemingly aware of his attention, muttered something quietly and rolled away. The Doctor let his arm fall back down, feeling bitterly disappointed.
A sudden rustling caught his attention and he half-turned, propping his elbows against the bed. "Trix?"
He heard her curse. "Doctor! You scared me. I thought you were asleep."
"I wasn't. Where are you going?"
"Out for a jog. I want to see the sunrise."
"Ah. What time is it?"
"Bit past six."
"Mmm. Stay safe."
"I'll try my best," she said dryly. "Be back in a couple hours."
"All right. Goodbye."
"See ya." He watched her cross over to the door and open it gently, gave a half-hearted wave as she slipped through. The latch clicked and he fell back on the bed, glancing over at Fitz. His companion had rolled back over, so that they were in roughly the same positions as before. He'd tossed off the blankets, exposing his upper torso. The Doctor swallowed, gaze firmly locked on Fitz's collarbone. His hand crept across the bed, almost of its own accord, until it was resting against Fitz's chest. His skin was hot, so different than his own. The Doctor's hands were permanently frozen, he knew; humans often complained of it when he touched them. He closed his eyes again, enjoying the warmth, the heartbeat beneath his palm. He'd hated the feeling of a single heartbeat when it'd been his own he'd felt, but from humans, it was comforting. Especially from this human in particular.
The Doctor opened his eyes in time to see the first rays of the sun creep into the room through the chink in the curtains, bathing everything in a rosy light. A sunbeam fell across Fitz, making him appear to glow.
Beautiful.
The Doctor wasn't sure if he was talking about the sunrise or his companion. He looked down at his hand, still pressed against Fitz, reluctant to move it. He probably ought to; Fitz wasn't likely to wake up anytime soon but it still felt like he was taking advantage of him.
"Doctor, what are you doing?" Fitz's voice was sleepy, not quite comprehending. The Doctor jerked his hand away as if he'd been stung, sheepishly raising his gaze to meet the gorgeous gray one that was staring at him quizzically.
"Nothing!" His voice was too high pitched and his cheeks to red for the lie to even be half-way convincing. Fitz, luckily, still seemed to be too asleep to process it.
"Mmm. What time is it?" His companion groaned.
"Bit after six," The Doctor repeated Trix's words. "Are you getting up?"
"Hell no." Fitz buried his face in the pillow, voice muffled. "I'm not moving unless a horde of aliens comes tramping by. And even then it's toss-up."
The Doctor smiled at him affectionately. "I see. I think I'll get up, just in case I need to ready myself for said alien horde." He made to get off the bed, but Fitz grabbed his hand.
"You could stay for a bit." His voice was still muffled. "I don't think aliens invade on Sundays."
The Doctor settled back down, trying to control his racing hearts. Fitz's hand was warm against his, calloused and inviting. "It's Monday, Fitz."
"Stuff it. Are you still leaving?"
"No. I think I'll stay."
"Good." Fitz raised his head, hair sticking up every-which-way, his cheeks slightly pink. He shuffled over to make room for the Doctor, then curled up against him once he'd lain down. The Doctor blinked in surprise, hand hovering over Fitz's back. "You know I'm probably not going to remember this when I wake up again, right?"
"Yes, I do." The Doctor's mouth twitched as he thought about other cases of Fitz's early-morning amnesia.
"Just so you know. You can put your hand down now, if you want."
The Doctor gently rested his hand on his companion's head, running his fingers through his hair. Fitz made a sleepy sound of contentment and leaned further against him, nodding off. The Doctor chuckled to himself when he heard the snoring resume. This was nice. It felt warm and good and safe, all of the feelings he'd since come to associate with Fitz. They had a couple hours until Trix came back, so he'd might as well enjoy it while it lasted.
Maybe having a crush wasn't so bad after all.