Disclaimer: I do not own any aspects of Doctor Who, though it's probably best since I'm likely to bastardize the character for my own twisted needs. Heh.

A/N This is my first ever Doctor Who fanfiction, so I hope you enjoy!

Trigger warning for self injury.

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Chapter 1: Interrogation Foreplay

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River leans into the Doctor, a smile curling at her lips as she whispers, "I'd like to see you try." She presses herself against his body, hips aligning in the loveliest way as her body reacts to the familiarity of the position. She knows this is one his firsts; one of her lasts. He does not try to squirm out of her reach as she presses her lips against his, demanding only to trail off into sweetness. He gasps and she plunges her tongue in.

The Doctor reacts with as much enthusiasm as River. Definitely not his first. "Well, yeah, but what if I do?" he breathes out when the kiss ends, resting his head upon her forehead. They both pant in sync, for a moment, this moment, River Song and the Doctor, the Doctor and River Song, are traveling in the same direction.

She runs her finger along the length of his tweed coat, from down to up, to caress his bowtie. She smiles as he shudders and shivers under the light touches. Patting his thigh, circumventing where she know he wants attention, and she strokes, instead, at his fingers. She crosses her ankle around his, separating his legs and supporting his trembling weight. One knee at his groin and he groans into her mouth, sending arousal to the edges of her nerves. Not his first, but certainly one of his firsts.

The realization guides her forward, enticing her to help the inexperienced (this version of him was naive as well, adding another layer of eroticism) Doctor along. She kisses him again, tenderly, mouths locking, and she can feel him straining in his trousers. Her hands move of their own volition, returning to his jacket. Her fingers explore under the rough fabric, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves…

"River!" He gasps out, pulling away from her and their embrace. She feels cold as she searches his face for answers to his reaction. "I can't, I—" His admission cuts off. She notices the fear lighting up is eyes, the shivers replaced by nerves. The aching between her legs diminishes as she takes in the genuine panic splayed in his features.

She rests a hand on his clothed arm. "Sweetie?"

"It's…" As he struggles to find words—an excuse, River realizes—his mannerisms regress to the awkwardness of the earlier days of this incarnation. He shrugs whilst keeping both arms tucked safely inwards and hands slipped into trouser pockets. His countenance is that of a little boy shamed for nicking one too many sweets. "Ah." He runs a hand through his hair, before hastily returning his arm to his side. "It's nothing to do with you, I mean… You're great, it's just…"

River almost smirks at the blush staining his cheeks and the semi softened bulge still tenting at his trousers. She is aware just how much the Doctor wants this. But what is holding him back? She frowns. She gently traces the outline of his jacket sleeve; he flinches, and her eyes narrow. "What are you hiding?" It's more of a statement, rather than a question. She demands; she intends to wrench the answer from him.

His features harden as her hands linger at his arms, and when the Doctor speaks again the words are clipped. "Think nothing of it." He scoots out of her gaze, using the wall he had been pressed against minutes earlier as propulsion. His eyes are downcast, and his teeth threaten to bore a hole in his lip.

Concerns coils down her stomach. "What?" Her voice increases as she follows his exit out of their shared room. "What do you mean? Get back here!"