Rory was laying in bed not sleeping. He found it hard to sleep with the hum of the TARDIS all around him, and a millions thoughts and questions running through his head. He peered at Amy; her face was smooth and expressionless in sleep, surrounded by gently waves of ginger hair.
He sighed, there was something he had to know. He knew that he'd never stop thinking about it until he had some sort of answer. He tossed back his covers and padded out, barefoot and in his boxers, to find the Doctor, frowning a little in concentration as he read some alien language on a glowing screen. The Doctor's eyes flicked over to him, and he turned away form the screen, facing him.
"When," Rory stopped and phrased his question in his mind, "When you said 'she kissed you', what did you mean?"
"Exactly what I said: she kissed me. So I went and got you. End of story."
"No, I know that," Rory said, "but how?"
"With her mouth; sometimes, you humans…" the Doctor trailed off, shaking his head a little to himself.
"Of course," Rory said, exasperated, "but was it like…here," he positioned himself in front of the Doctor, "was it a quick, little peck, like," he demonstrated, pressing his lips to the Doctor's for a brief moment, just the smallest brushing of warm, dry lips against each other, before he pulled back. "or was it something more? Something like," he noted how the Doctor's eyes were locked on him, but he didn't think too much about it. He licked his lips unthinkingly as he hesitated. He knew, somewhere in the back of his head, he knew that he shouldn't kiss the Doctor, but he couldn't stop himself either. Their lips met and clung. He felt tweed beneath his tightly clenched fingers. For just a moment, he felt the Doctor's hands run caressingly up his sides, and they settled on his shoulders, soft for a second, then firmly pushing them apart.
Rory could feel his cry of protest catch in his throat. He sucked in a long breath before bringing his eyes up to meet the Doctor's. His eyes were not unkind, nor were they filled with lust; they were distant, almost as if he were thinking of something from long ago, something unimaginably long ago.
"Go back to bed," The Doctor ordered quietly, "go back to Amy." Rory stood unmoving, the words tumbling over him, falling, losing himself in the Doctor's gaze. The he nodded and turned to return to bed. He glanced back, just once, before he was completely out of eyesight. The Doctor was looking right back at him.