He winds his fingers through your hair slowly, and it seems like it's going to be a loving gesture until he yanks your head back softly, tilting your chin up. He litters kisses along the pale, slightly sweaty skin of your neck. You're in your apartment, on your bed, the bedroom door standing kicked open haphazardly. He's still got his pants on, unfortunately, but he managed to discard his shoes at the door, and his shirt just moments ago. You bring your hands up to his shoulders, partly as a reaction to his lips on your neck and partly because you need to in order to stay steady on the bed.

"Matt…" You try to make it come out silky, confident. Instead it sounds weak and hoarse. He hums against your neck and nudges your jaw with his nose, his eyes closed and his muscles tense around you. Your left hand slides up and into the hair at the base of his neck and you massage there, tug gently at it, and he grunts, pulling away from you and starting to help you shed your sweater. Next thing you know, you're at the head of the bed wearing only your undergarments, watching as he shucks his jeans and boxers impatiently.

Before.

It's an exceptionally cold day, and you stuff your mittens in your pockets to button up your coat. You pull your hat down around your hair again and put your mittens back on, trying in vain to escape the chilly wind that's currently biting at your face and neck. Your laptop bag, hanging from your shoulder, smacks against your thigh as you walk. You come up on your apartment building and almost sigh in happiness.

You push open the door and look down at your feet as you fumble in your back pocket for your keys. By the time you get to them you're halfway across the lobby. Suddenly another pair of feet join yours and you yelp as you lightly run into them, uttering a "Sorry," and jerking your head up, connecting it with their chin with a sick crack.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry," you say, looking at the poor man, and…

He looks right back at you, a small smile on his face. "Matt," you say quietly.

He rubs his chin. "It's me," he says, wiggling his fingers on his free hand.

"Um, I'm sorry…" He nods and you try to contain a giggling. "So why… why are you here?"

"Oh, uh… well, I honestly wasn't really busy this week and I hadn't seen you in forever… I hope you don't mind."

You shake your head. "No, no of course I don't."

His grin returns full on and he leans forward, places a gentle hand on your waist to pull you nearer. His kiss is soft and happy and you smile into it. "Come on, you can go drop your bags upstairs."

After he puts his bags in your room, you ask him if he's hungry. It's about four thirty, so it's not too early for dinner. He tells you he'll pay and after some playful banter, the two of you agree to head to the little diner that he took you on your first date to. You'd never been when he took you the first time, and honestly you were pretty unimpressed- at the time, you'd had no idea who he was, his profession, nothing. He frequently tells you that that was the reason he was drawn to you in the first place: you weren't reluctantly agreeing to a date with Matt Smith, the Eleventh Doctor, you were agreeing to Matt Smith, some guy with an annoying accent who accidentally got in the same taxi as you. He tells that story all the time, and it's almost always accompanied by a tomato red blush when he remembers how embarrassed he was. Recently you've taken to kissing his nose when he gets like this, and that almost assuredly rids his cheeks of their red hue.

By the time you get to the diner, he's got his arm slung lazily around your waist, and yours is gripping him tightly, trying to steal some of his warmth. You go inside, sit down, and he grasps your hands in his to warm them when he sees how red your fingers are. You sit and wait for your food, putting your feet on the seat across from you next to him. The two of you giggle when Superfreak comes on the radio behind the bar.

"She's alright… she's alright… that girl's alright with me…" Matt sings along, a mischievous grin on his face. His eyes are dark, and you force out a breathless giggle as you feel his hand on the inside of your knee, creeping upward.

The waitress comes then, sits your food down in front of you and asks if there's anything else she can get you. She's looking pointedly at Matt when she says this, her ponytail swinging onto her shoulder when she turns to offer him a slinky smile.

"No, that'll be all, I think. Thank you."

Her smile falters only a miniscule bit. "Anytime," she says, and flounces off, obviously putting an extra sway in her hips.

You don't realize you're glaring at her until Matt nudges your hand and asks you what's wrong.

"Oh," you say, snapping back to the present. "You didn't just see that?"

"See what?" He tilts his head like a confused puppy.

You narrow your eyes. "She was totally flirting with you."

"What? No she wasn't."

"Yeah, she was-"

"Darling, I can always tell when someone's flirting with me. After years of never getting a date, I learned to pick up on it whenever possible."

"Then you must have lost your touch, because that was flirting."

"Maybe you're just jealous."

Your eyes widen. "Pfh! Of her? Did you see the sway? She did the hip thing! Of course she wants you!" You're whispering heatedly now.

Matt only laughs. "Or maybe I only have eyes for you."

Your cleverly thought out retort dies on your lips. You look down. "Uh… yeah, maybe there's that…"

You finish your meals and leave the diner quickly and with little more conversation. You're pleasantly surprised when Matt still pulls you close on the way home, when he doesn't let go of you in the lobby, or all the way up the stairs. But you're even more surprised when he practically slams the front door closed, pressing you against it and urgently capturing your lips with his.

Now.

He settles between your legs and you feel a sense of wholeness, like the two of you are puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly. He leans down and gently brushes his lips across your forehead. His hair has grown back and regained its longish, wispy quality in the front, and it tickles at your face as he moves down to suck and nip at your neck. Your hands find purchase on his back, just under his shoulderblades, and he moves to nuzzle his nose into your collarbone.

"Missed you," he says.

You hum quietly. "I missed you too. A lot, actually. How long did you say you have?"

"A week. Can you get vacation time at work?" His tongue lunges into the dip at your collarbone and you gasp, your fingers digging into the skin of his back.

"I actually have two weeks of vacation that- ah!" he bites down on your collarbone, then soothes the spot with a lick and a kiss. "... Of vacation that I have to use, or it'll get taken away," you finish, a bit breathless.

"Use it," he says simply. You nod, your eyes falling closed as he works his way down your body. He reaches behind you and unclasps your bra, pulls it away and lets it fall to the floor with a flourish. You giggle and relish in the grin he gives you as he continues his exploration of every bit that he's missed while he's been gone.

Later, after a brief episode with your legs thrown over his shoulders and your hands down in his hair, he looks directly into your eyes as he positions himself between your legs. You reach up to rub your thumb across his cheekbone and he closes his eyes as he pushes into you. You gasp and feel him kiss your neck softly, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your hips. Slowly, you kiss his forehead and tighten around him to let him know you're okay. He groans softly, gripping you tighter as he slides out.

He screams your name as he comes. You cling to him as you come back down from the high of your orgasm, and he breathes into your neck, whispering to you that he loves you and he missed you so much. You fall asleep tangled and sweaty and content.

"Hey. Hey… wake up."

Your face is buried in Matt's bare chest and he's playing with your hair and cooing in your ear. You grunt, trying to get yourself awake. Reality, for once, is better than dreams. You sit up and smile at Matt's face, pale and sleepy looking in the morning light. He kisses your forehead and starts to roll out of bed, but you clutch at his arm. He softly shakes you off, saying, "Darling, I've got to go make breakfast… do you want me to carry you?