Ten/Rose AU
Word Count: 605
A/N: Umm, I found this in my fic folder labelled as "tipsy new year dw." I don't really remember writing it, but I was apparently feeling creative around one in the morning on New Year's. So I thought I'd share the results of that (despite the fact that it's now the end of February). Hope you enjoy! Also, I'm horrible at knowing what to rate things and this is a very mild T. I just like to stay on the safe side.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Doctor Who. I am just playing with the characters because they play with my emotions.
It was by complete accident that they met; his friend's New Year's party and her having the wrong flat number. Despite being at the wrong party, she'd introduced herself around, making friends easily. She spotted him in a corner, trying his hardest not to make eye contact with anyone so he wouldn't have to talk, and immediately made it her mission to see that he enjoyed the party.
Surprisingly, she found herself drawn in by his bizarre conversation topics. She'd known when she walked over that he was good looking, all that wild hair that was begging for hands to mess it up. Add to that freckles and those big brown eyes and it was just an irresistible combination. But she hadn't expected to get drawn into a conversation about aliens and literature and actually fascinating things. They talked in the corner until 11:30 when she finally dragged him out onto the dance floor.
It took him a moment to find the rhythm, but after observing her hips for a moment, he joined in, hands gripping those same hips as they moved in sync. As minutes passed and one song faded into another, they moved closer and closer until a slip of paper could not be fit between them. Matching pairs of darkened brown eyes met as the countdown to the new year began.
Ten. He ground his hips against hers, unashamedly enjoying the friction against his hardened length. Nine. She tightened he arms around his neck. Eight. Fingers dug tighter into her hips, eliminating any molecules of air that might have remained between their bodies. Seven. She threw her head back as she ground her hips against his in retaliation. Six. His hands slid from her hips around to her arse, squeezing the soft flesh that was hidden beneath tight fabric. Five. One of her hands found its way into his hair, the destination it had been approaching all night. Four. With one last squeeze to her bum, his hands drifted upwards, one landing in her hair, one on the small of her back. Three. She tilted her face up, inviting him to make the next move when the clock struck midnight. Two. He dipped his head down, letting their breaths mingle as their lips hovered a centimeter apart. One. Eyes slipped closed as they closed the distance between their lips.
As people shouted Happy New Year, their mouths met, teasing and demanding. Lips and tongues tussled for dominance as London celebrated the beginning of a new year. Rose and the man who called himself the Doctor didn't notice the celebrations though. The sound of fireworks and the cheers of the people surrounding them on the dance floor did not burst their bubble of passion. In the middle of the dance floor, they were still wrapped up in each other, enthralled with the instant connection they'd found despite it being three minutes past midnight now. When they broke apart, they became aware of the cheers and jeers being directed at them.
The Doctor slipped his hand into hers and squeezed it reassuringly. His lips brushed against her earlobe as he whispered "Run." And run they did. Out into the cold and towards his flat where they spent the night talking and snogging until the sun came up.
When the next year rolled around, it found them curled up in bed, sated and relaxed as they leisurely kissed the new year hello. Their new rings glistened on their left hands, a promise to spend every year together, enjoying it every bit as much as they had when they met on the eve of this one.