Written for flyninthetardis for the dwsanta fic exchange on livejournal. The prompt terrified me because I've never written anything like this, but I'm glad on how it turned out.
Thanks to A Who Down In Whoville and Queen of the Castle for the beta! You guys rock!
The music pulsed in a steady, sultry undertone, winding its way through the masses and thrumming along with their heartbeats. The lights were low in shades of red, green, blue, and yellow, flashing to the beat on the stage with neon lighting up the bar. The tables were shrouded in darkness, bright enough to locate, but dark enough to ensure some form of privacy. The floor was black tile with twinkling silver sparkles, and currently covered with writhing bodies. There was a sweet scent in the air, heady and floral, that made his head feel funny and sent a tingle down his spine. Everything was black and silver, glimmering in the low light, and he suddenly felt very, very out of place.
How Rose had managed to persuade him was still something he couldn't understand. One moment he was under the console, trying to figure out why the flux inhibitor was coming loose, and the next she had sweet-talked him into shedding his suit jacket and tie and was shoving him out the door and through the entrance of a small, weathered building called The Dark Siren. She had paid for their entrance, and led him down the stairs into what was, effectively, a forty-third century club.
Rose herself was wearing a tiny slip of a skirt, a halter top that reminded him of Gallifrey's crimson fields, and heels that made her legs seem impossibly long. Her gold eye shadow accented the amber flecks in her eyes. Golden bracelets chimed merrily whenever she moved her left hand, and glitter had somehow made its way into her hair, which was curled. He had never seen her with so little clothing, and the effect was mesmerizing.
Really, moments like these were when he forgot why he kept holding back. Right now, it was all he could do to not shove her against the wall and snog the life out of her. Sometimes, the tension ran so thick between them that he marveled at how she couldn't feel it, and why she hadn't acted. He knew the cultural differences between them created a lot of the road blocks, but right now she was downright sexy and all his inhibitions would be blown out the window if she gave him even the slightest hint that she wanted him.
Not that he wanted her to. Well. He did, a bit. Ok, a lot. But he would never, ever, admit that this tiny human girl was his one weakness.
Rose did a slow turn, unconsciously showing off her curves as she did so. "This place is amazin'," she breathed. Then she grinned at him. "Let's go!"
Swallowing, he gestured vaguely at a table. "I'll just… find a place to sit. You go dance… or something."
Scrunching her nose and looking utterly adorable while she did so, Rose replied, "Aren't you goin' to join me?"
"Rose…"
"Oh, I know you dance. Remember, Captain envy?" She had wiggled into the space between his arm and his side, and smiled coquettishly. "Come on. It's not goin' to kill ya."
He tried to extricate himself from her grip, hoping she could tell he wasn't trying very hard. "Rose, we need to get a table. Otherwise, we'll never be able to find one later when we need a break."
She brightened a bit at that. "So you'll dance?"
"Table first," he said firmly. "Then we'll see."
He led her away from the doorway, searching for a vacant spot. He hoped that she wouldn't try to get him onto the dance floor; that would require close quarters, and if there was any doubt in her mind that he wanted her, their proximity would soon wipe away all evidence of it. Already he was trying to regulate his chemical makeup, but the intoxicating scents distracted him and the music drummed along with his heartsbeat. He halfway succeeded, and silently thanked Rose for picking out a club that was dark.
Stumbling upon a booth, he noted that the sitting area was actually set about two feet into the ground, and the roof was part of the balcony where the bar was housed. A thick black curtain with silver designs sewn into it was pulled to one side in case the occupants needed privacy, and the bench that sat behind the table was wide and fluffy and covered in a silvery fabric, able to easily house four people even if they spread out a bit. The Doctor frowned at it, but thumbed the small pad next to the entrance. It blinked green, and a display showed up, asking him how long he would like to rent it. After a swift glance at Rose- she was eyeing the dance floor with an alarming look in her eyes- he entered four hours and pulled her in with him. Muted lights turned on as soon as they entered, and the screen set in the table waited for them to order their preference of drinks.
"This is… cozy." Rose remarked, and then looked at the screen with interest. "What've they got, then?"
"Avoid the Hamatorish Tumbler," he said absently as he flopped down beside her. "It's only safe for aqueous life forms to ingest."
Blinking, Rose asked, "You mean flyin' fish?"
"Yup," he said, popping the 'p'. He inhaled deeply, and then frowned. "What in the world is that scent?" He didn't like how it seemed to be lowering his ability to concentrate. Pulling out the sonic screwdriver, he did a quick scan to analyze the elements in the air.
Rose perused the menu, asking something about some sort of whiskey. He gave a noncommittal grunt, putting on his specs to read the result, and ruffled his hair when nothing out of the ordinary turned out. Flicking to a different setting, his tongue went to the back of his teeth as he focused on the task at hand. Only after a few frustrating moments of not getting any unusual feedback did he sigh in annoyance, stuffing his sonic back in his pocket. He turned to Rose, asking her what she had selected, and saw her staring at him with a dazed expression. "Rose? You alright there?" he asked, slightly amused.
She blinked, and then shook herself out of her reverie. "Yeah. The drinks'll be here soon. I got you a Maldonan Firewhiskey."
"Sounds good." It was one of the weaker drinks that were offered, and with his current lack of control, the best choice beyond water. "Go dance. I'll stay here and wait for our drinks."
Rose nodded, but gave him a lingering look before she left. Something in her eyes caused him to suppress a shiver.
He spent the time awaiting their drinks and rescanning the room, trying to pinpoint the source of the intoxicating scent. Most of the readings confirmed it was a low-level aphrodisiac, used to lower the clubbers' inhibitions, but not enough to impair judgment, and certainly shouldn't be powerful enough to affect him. Just what it was seemed to be impossible to tell; it was a riot of all sorts of scents, and sorting them out would take too much time and effort. Sighing, he settled once more onto the bench, noting the array of pillows on either end. Whatever this place was, they certainly wanted their guests to be comfortable.
Flicking through the screen on the table, he was mildly surprised to see that he could select not only drinks, but light color schemes, personal music tracks, and food. At his prodding the lights changed from a dark blue to something that closely resembled candlelight, and music that was as close to his native songs as possible wafted through the speakers, neatly drowning out the thudding of the music outside the walls. He had a sudden vision of Rose beneath the Gallifreyan sky; she would have loved his home, and would have spent hours wandering through the silver forest, exclaiming over the creatures that inhabited it, racing after him through the crimson fields. And when the sun set, the silver trees would shine, setting her against a fiery, magnificent backdrop as she watched the stars come out, enchanted by the way they seemed so much closer than she was used to. He would spend hours teaching her the constellations, telling her legends of his home world, and with only the moon, stars, and trees as witness, he would show her exactly what she meant to him and how when a Time Lord said 'forever', it was for life and all eternity.
But that planet was gone now: it and all its majesty and wonder and history. He would have to be content with telling her stories, and visiting in his dreams. Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair once more, then stood to receive the drinks when a small chime issued throughout the room.
Only when he set the drinks on the table did it occur to him that he didn't know how to locate Rose. He knew she would be among the dancers on the floor, but that was as far as his knowledge extended. Drawing the curtain closed behind him as he left the booth, the Doctor turned towards the floor. Staring out at the mass of gyrating bodies on the dance floor, he wondered if it was even possible; the dim lighting already made it hard to see, and the aphrodisiac had worked its way into his system leaving him feeling a little light-headed. Ignoring any thoughts that said this would be a bad idea, he walked slowly to the edge of the dance floor, his eyes skimming over the crowd to see if he could catch a flash of blonde hair and Gallifrey-red cloth.
"Need a partner, sweetheart?" Someone purred in his ear, and startled, he looked down to see a voluptuous green-eyed woman with dark pink hair and some flowery design beside her right eye. Already she had started to curl around him, one hand resting on his chest, a leg working its way between both of his. A floral perfume hit his nostrils, and he recoiled from the sheer amount of the stuff she had used.
Extricating himself from her grip the best he could, he hastily stammered, "I, ah, came here with someone, actually. She's on the floor; I was just looking for her." Mentally he pleaded that Rose would show up soon; the woman's slightly silver skin identified her as an Ypsitan. The only known person to be more addicted to sex than them was Captain Jack Harkness.
He seemed to be her chosen target, however, for she continued to cling to his left arm. Several males were already shooting him jealous looks, and he wouldn't have minded in the slightest foisting her on them, even if the females had a habit of literally shagging lesser species to death. Too bad Jack still wasn't with them; the man would have been speechless at the privilege. And his inability to die would work wonders with the girl- he would hunt Jack down and stomach the uneasiness he felt around the ex-Time Agent if it meant getting rid of his current admirer.
It was as he was craning his head trying to avoid a kiss that he saw her. She was near the edges to his right, about three or four bodies in, swinging her hips to the beat, her eyes closed in what he could easily imagine as ecstasy. What was more, in the state he was currently in, his mind viewed himself as being the one to elicit such reactions in her. He could feel his hands gliding over her exposed skin, trailing down her neck, sliding home between her thighs…
With a violent jerk, he wrenched free of the Ypsitan's grasp and kept her at arm's length. "I appreciate the attention, of course I do," he said, quickly, searching for an available partner. "And I'm certain any man- or even some of the women- would absolutely adore having that attention on them." Seeing one unsuspecting male hovering on the edge of the dance floor, he grabbed the Ypsitan's upper arm and pulled her along with him. "And though I don't mind a good flirt now and again, you are not the woman I intend to dance with tonight."
Reaching the male, he gently, but firmly, pushed the silver female to him. "Here's a more willing dance partner. Have fun, don't do anything stupid, and please don't cause any chaos until after I've left." Not even bothering to see if the couple were interested in one another or not, he stalked across the floor to Rose, who seemed to sense him coming before he'd taken three steps.
Her eyes were dark, the aphrodisiac already pumping through her body, lowering her restraints and bringing forth all the desire she held for him. Swaying her hips seductively, she locked eyes with him, her hands slowly trailing down her body, curving around her breasts, letting him watch as she mapped out her curves for him. His hearts thudded against his chest, his pupils dilated, and heat coursed through him; before he knew it he was in front of her and pulling her roughly against him, his hands on her hips. Rose gasped, feeling the evidence of his desire, and her arms wound their way around his neck, one hand tangling itself in his hair. She moved against him, and he rocked against her, and they were soon lost in the pounding rhythm of the music.
Though he and Rose were always within touching distance never before had they been this close, this passionate. Hands roamed freely, their bodies slid sensuously against the other, and never once did their eyes leave one another. One song turned into two, two into five; and then, suddenly, he knew.
It was time.
His head dropped to her neck, and he placed one long, lingering kiss on her pulse point. Her whimper was nearly lost to the sound of the music, and if he hadn't been so close he would have missed it. Heat coursed through him once more, and he whispered, roughly, in her ear, "Let's go back to the booth."
"Yes," she gasped. "God, yes." She turned her head, meeting his lips with hers, and she clung to him like her life depended on it as their lips parted and his tongue stroked against hers, rhythmically. She was shaking when he finally pulled back, eyes dark with desire. Wordlessly, his hands travelled up her sides and down her arms to land in her hands, and he tugged her off the dance floor. She willingly followed, breathing heavily, eyes hooded.
He thumbed the panel, and swiftly drew the curtain aside. Letting Rose go ahead of him, he turned to jerk it completely closed, shutting off all outside view and sending the outside music to a muted thud. The music he had selected earlier had ended, but the lights were still flickering like candles, casting shadows over the girl partly sprawled over the bench and staring at him. For a long moment, they regarded each other. When he finally spoke, his voice was husky. "If we do this, there's no going back."
"Don't care," she replied, her tone matching his. "I've wanted this for a long time, Doctor. And I know you have, too."
She was right; even in his previous body he had wanted her, only now it was more focused, harder to ignore and more demanding. And as he looked at her, he realized that it was more than just want and desire. It was something deeper; something titanic and indescribable that stole away his breath and propelled him towards her. She welcomed him with open arms.
He gently moved her to the center of the bench, and reached up to grab a pillow to place under her head. She wriggled, finding a position that was comfortable, and he easily fit in the space between her thighs. She tangled her legs with his and then tugged him down to meet her for a kiss. He complied, lips sliding open instantly, and as their kiss intensified so did their touches. She tugged at his vest, pulling it out of his trousers, and he shivered slightly as he felt her hands gliding up his stomach to his chest, around his ribcage to his back. He plucked at the string behind her neck and felt it come apart in his fingers, and they broke the kiss long enough to shed their respective shirts before resuming it once more. Her strapless bra was soon thrown across the room, and she sighed as a hand found her breasts, rocking upwards into him. He bit back a moan, the sudden desire to remove all remaining clothing at the forefront of his mind.
Rose seemed to have the same idea, her hands pushing at his trousers. He propped himself up on one elbow and helped her out of the skirt, both coming to an impasse when they refused to lose contact with the other. Finally, swearing softly, he wriggled free and viciously tugged his trousers off, removing his socks and shoes in the process. Rose had sat up to remove her heels, but as she reached for her knickers, he grabbed her hand. "Don't," he said, intently, and she shivered at the look in his eyes. Nodding, she moved her hands away, and he gently laid her back onto the bench.
Hooking his fingers beneath the scrap of lace, he let out a ragged breath as she was finally revealed to him. Pausing, he let his eyes linger where they would, drinking in the perfect vision before him. The candlelight played upon her skin, chasing shadows around the dips and curves of her body. Seeing her looking at him, so full of trust and desire and love, he could hardly believe his luck. The universe had never been this kind before; how did he know this wasn't a dream, that he would wake up and find that this entire experience had been the result of his neurons randomly firing and triggering various thoughts and memories as he slept, and he would wake up alone and frustrated? Swallowing heavily, he lifted one hand, shakily brushing a stray lock of hair off her face. "You're…"His voice sounded hoarse, and he swallowed again before trying once more. "You're perfect, Rose. So, so perfect…"
A blush stained her cheeks, and she reached up to cup his face. "You're more so," she whispered, honestly, and he felt himself break even as his soul knitted itself back together. He kissed her once more, desperately, wanting to believe more than anything that this was real.
Rose's hands slid up and down his back, and he nipped at her jaw before placing several open-mouthed kisses along her throat. She whimpered as he left a mark where her shoulder met her neck, and gasped when he moved to her breast. She bit out his name as he rolled the nipple between his teeth, and when he pressed his hips against hers to relieve some of the pressure she choked back a sob. "Please," she managed, hands going to push at his pants. "Now, Doctor. Don't wanna wait."
Panic swept through him, and without meaning to, he pulled back. "Wait," he gasped. "I… Rose, I just… um… I'm not…"
"Not what?" She demanded. Then her eyes widened. "Wait. We are… you know… compatible, right?"
He swallowed, but nodded. "Yeah. We are."
She relaxed. "Then what's the fuss?"
Hesitating, hands fluttering uncertainly along the waistband of his pants, he said, "I'm a bit different… structurally… from a human male. There's a bit of… rearrangement, I suppose."
Rose studied him for a moment. He looked back, anxious, wishing more than anything to know what she was thinking. For an instant he was seized with the desire to reach into her mind; but not yet. They were still too new, still trying to figure out what this meant and where to go.
"Doctor," she finally said, smiling slightly, "So long as everything works, what's there to be nervous about? I know you're an alien, and different biology is a part of that. I'll still love you anyway, yeah?"
All the air whooshed out of him, not only at her casual admittance, but also because he knew she meant it. It was there, in her gaze, in how she supported him, made her way back to him, protected him. And that made him love her even more.
He couldn't say it, not yet, maybe not ever. She seemed to know that, know that if he finally admitted how much he needed her, the universe would be likely to take her away before they could count to three. And so, when she pulled him down for a kiss, he let her remove the last barrier between them.
They let the kiss end naturally, and he rested his forehead against hers for a moment before slowly pulling back, vulnerability in his eyes. Her eyes trailed down his body hungrily, mapping the angles and planes of his chest, caressing his firm stomach before drifting lower. He held his breath, watched as she realized that, though his penis was just like any other male's, if slightly larger, there were no other parts. Confusion flitted across her face.
"My sperm are produced differently," he explained. "My people… I'm not sterile, not quite, but I don't produce as much as a human. I don't have a need to. Natural conception was near impossible without help, and as a result the bonded partners never consummated until the height of the fertility cycle to have a better chance of reproduction. We eventually evolved to accommodate the smaller amount of sperm used, and the result is as you see it."
"Will I…?"
His left heart skipped a bit, and he tried to hide his regret. "We aren't… we aren't compatible in that way. Humans are the most genetically open species I've ever met, but even they can't procreate with Gallifreyans. It's impossible."
She must have sensed his feelings, anyway, for she pulled him in to a tight hug. "It's alright, Doctor. I'm still here. I'll always be here."
His hug was equally desperate and fierce. "I'm never letting you go."
Turning her head, she met his mouth in a searing kiss, once more reigniting the postponed passion between them. Her hands slid down his back, gripping his bum, and he gasped before claiming her lips once more.
There was no gentleness this time. The last of his hesitance had been scattered to the winds, and the kiss was deep, possessive, and hungry. She matched his desire, squeezing her hands and rubbing wantonly against him and causing him to let out a deep growl before he moved down her neck, sucking at her skin and feeling a dark pride running through him as he marked her as his. Hearing the pleased noises she was making, he moved lower, nipping at her skin before soothing it with his tongue, peppering her skin with tiny red marks that declared, in no uncertain terms, that she belonged to him. Rose encouraged him with tiny little mewling noises and gasps, then a whimper when he closed his mouth over her breast. He freed one hand and massaged the other, causing her to squirm under him delightfully. Every reaction was catalogued, every sound memorized, and even if he never got another chance to do this again, this memory would be with him for the rest of his lives. Her hands raked across his back, through his hair, marking him just as he was marking her.
"Doctor…" Rose finally bit out, hissing as he nipped at a sensitive spot. "I need…"
He hummed against her skin, ninety-eight point four five six percent of his focus on the patch of skin in front of him. He licked slowly, and she shuddered, before finally crying out, "Inside! Now!"
The absolute desire and desperation in her voice caused him to smile, and he crawled back up her body, a hairsbreadth away from entering her. "You certain, Rose?" he asked, voice low, and she shivered.
In way of reply, her legs wrapped themselves tightly around his hips. Needing no other encouragement, he thrust into her quickly, powerfully, only to freeze as pure, unadulterated bliss swept over him.
They let out matching moans. He was trembling, hardly able to believe that they were actually here, had taken this step, had stopped dancing around each other and their feelings. The emotion in her eyes caused his hearts to skip a beat, and he was surprised to find that he was crying. She gently wiped the tears away, whispering softly, "I'm here. I'm always here. Never doubt that, my Doctor."
My Doctor. "Yours," he whispered, awed.
Suddenly, all aggression vanished. He wanted to savor this, to burn the vision of her beneath him into his mind, to memorize the look on her face as he drove her to completion. Outside their booth, the music had slowed to a more sensual pace. He moved to the beat, slowly but powerfully, trying to show in his expression and actions the words he could never admit to himself or her. She matched him, her hips rising and falling under him, and he was mesmerized by the sight of her moving beneath him. Her hands drifted around and down, resting lightly on his back, and she shifted, allowing him to penetrate deeper. Mouth dry, he bent down to kiss her, the action slow and languorous, matching the pace he had set as he entered and left her. Slowly, their fires built, magma turning into a wildfire, and as he came he whispered into her ear, speaking in his native language, the lilting words tumbling out and striking something deep within her. Although it wasn't translated, she instinctively knew what he was saying; knowing that he was saying what he would never dare to say otherwise. She followed after, quietly repeating the words as best she could, hoping that he understood that what she felt couldn't be described by any language in all of time and space.
Hours or minutes later, when the sensations had finished sweeping through them and he slid out from her body, she was curled into his side, legs tangled, one of his arms wrapped around her waist and the other buried in her hair. Her head rested on his shoulder, and she idly connected the freckles on his chest. His eyes were closed, a soft smile on his face, and she found herself asking, "What'd I do to deserve you?"
Blinking his eyes open, he looked down at her. "What do you mean?"
She shifted slightly so she could look at him easier. "I mean, I used to be nobody. A shop girl with no A-levels and a boyfriend who took me for granted. And now… now I get to go anywhere, see things that I never even dared to dream about, and have given my heart to an alien who made it all possible. Why me? What've I done to deserve this?"
"Oh, Rose," he murmured, smiling tenderly. "What haven't you done? You saved me from myself, showed a broken man how to live again, how to laugh and view the world through innocent eyes. You've done everything, Rose. If anyone should be counting their blessings, it's me. Nine hundred years of running and fighting against the universe, and suddenly, you're there. You're the only thing that has made my life worth living. The real question is why I deserve you."
Tears pricked at her eyes, and she kissed him, her heart so full of love she thought it would burst. He easily pulled her atop him, wrapping his arms around her, feeling his body stir once more.
Eventually, reality intruded into their private world. Their time ran out, and as they slowly dressed one another, exchanging happy kisses and teasing brushes of hands, he allowed himself a glimpse of their timeline, bound tightly together and shining a brilliant gold; the overwhelming potential stunned him, and he let futures upon futures of joy and happiness and forever rocket through him. The sheer wonder, joy, and love it evoked caused him to stagger, and Rose let out a slight giggle as she steadied him. "Having trouble walkin'?" she teased. "I promise I'll go easy on you next time, old man."
Affronted, he stared down at her. "I'm not that old! I have centuries left in me yet!"
She waved a hand dismissively. "Evidence points to the contrary. It's ok to admit inadequacies sometimes, Doctor. I won't think any less of you for it."
"Evidence, eh? How about we conduct further experiments on the TARDIS to form a correct conclusion?" His smile dripped pure sin.
The look on her face promised that she would revel in it. "We may have to conduct said experiment in several different locations to ensure we don't get false readings."
"Rose Tyler, I love the way you think."
And they continued onwards to their shining future, laughing, loving, living; together.