A/N: Shout out to Bria for the beta!

Wishing on Stars: Part 2

It was a few days later that they found themselves in her dorm room, soft pink bed sheets, plush carpets, and numerous photos the backdrop to their fucking. She had him against the wall this time, her hands just beginning their trek down to the front of his trousers, palming his growing bulge through the denim. His hips rose to meet her hand, the groan slipping past his lips. She smiled and whispered filth in his ear, causing his hips to press harder against her palm. Then she was unzipping the fabric, parting it so that she could push it from his hips. His shirt buttons were still half undone due to her impatience, the tails hanging loose. His glasses were perched low on his nose, watching with rapt attention the progress of her hand as she divested him of his clothing. She, herself, was down to her bra and knickers and John longed to strip them off her body, to expose her to his gaze, but somewhere along the way, his hands had lost the ability to function correctly.

She eased the soft, cotton fabric of his pants over his straining erection next, careful not to touch him. He whined in the back of his throat, wanting her hands upon him, stroking him, caressing him. They hadn't explored each other much that other night, not as much as he'd dreamt about at least. He was still shaky on the rules, not wanting to push her too far if all she was really looking for was a quick shag to relieve the tension. No matter that he longed to explore her body for hours with lips, and teeth, and tongue.

His pants hit the floor, and he gingerly stepped out of them at her prompting. Then Rose began trailing her hand up his thigh, moving through the silky hair of his leg, scratching at the sensitive skin. His cock twitched and she grinned filthily before she quite suddenly, with no warning at all, dropped to her knees. Inanely the first thing he thought of was that he was very thankful for those nice, plush rugs of hers. After that all thought flew from his mind as her hands came up to brace against his legs and her mouth came in contact with the skin of his hipbone. She first licked at the taut skin, and then sucked it into her mouth. Hard. John's eyes drifted shut and his mouth parted in a breathless sound as he realized that this would most definitely darken into a purple bruise on his hip, evidence to what they are doing. That thought was enough to make him groan.

He felt her smile against his skin, giving the developing mark one last kiss before she was moving her mouth to where he needed it most. John trembled as he felt her breath play over his tip, warm and wet and tantalizing. She looked up at him, her eyes nearly black and then abruptly she took just the head of him into her mouth, lightly sucking on the sensitive skin. John couldn't help the way he cried out, the way his legs began quaking underneath her hands, even at this light stimulation.

"Rose, Rose," he panted, gently resting his hands on her head, lightly pushing her back. She looked up at him with a furrowed brow.

"What is it?"

"You don't- I didn't know this was a part of the deal," he finally settled on, his voice cracking only a little over the words.

At this her eyes softened and he felt her thumb brush tenderly over the inner skin of his thigh. "There aren't any rules. Not really. Besides I want to." She blushed. "I like it."

John's mouth went dry and he couldn't find words to answer her with.

Rose was looking at him with concern now. "Do you want me to?"

John sucked in a breath and then hesitantly, he nodded.

"Hmm," Rose said, her eyes falling back down to his cock. "Well, I don't think you'll regret it." Then her mouth was descending on him once again.

John's mind scattered at the sensation, his thoughts flying in every direction as she began bobbing up and down on him, taking him deeper and deeper until he was hitting the back of her throat on almost every pass. His hands twitched against his side, itching to get caught in the strands of her hair, to lightly direct her movements on him. Instead, he pressed them against the wall behind him to tamp down on the impulse.

Her mouth steadily got more insistent as she worked, sucking harder and harder until his vision began going black around the edges and his toes began curling.

"Rose...I-" It was the only warning he could give before he spilled into her mouth, his legs nearly giving out on him under the onslaught of his orgasm. Rose took it in stride, swallowing him down in one smooth motion before getting back to her feet in order to press her lips to his. He groaned as he tasted himself on her mouth, wrapping his arms tightly around her body so that they were completely pressed together, hip to hip and thigh to thigh.

It wasn't long after that before they were spread out across her bed, him driving into her as she groaned out long and low, Doctor, over and over again.

By the third time it was him buried between her thighs, one of her legs thrown over his shoulder and her hands clenched tight in his hair as a litany of curse words fell from her mouth.

By the eighth time they had fallen into a stride, their rhythm matching and bodies syncing up.

By the twelfth time they had pretty much established that they were really, really good at fucking one another.

By the fifteenth time John knew he was completely and utterly lost.

Getting "chips" together was their code word for sex over the next few months as they continued with their arrangement. She would shoot him a text asking him to meet her at their favorite chippy and more often than not (and most certainly against his better judgment) he would drop what he was doing and make the short walk to the chip place, the whole while telling himself to end this before it got more out of hand than it already was. But every time he came face to face with her again, every time she turned that smile on him, the infuriating one with her tongue caught between her teeth, he'd feel any resolve he had whipped up crumbling. She'd then proceed to tease him, just like that first night, right up until he couldn't take it anymore and they'd find themselves back in his dorm, or hers on occasion, flat on their backs and soaking in the afterglow. Then after a few brief moments she'd pick herself up, get dressed and leave him a little more hopelessly in love with her than before. That was the pattern: they'd eat, they'd fuck, they'd smile and when she left John would peel another plastic star off of his ceiling.

Doctor ended up sticking. She'd cry it out when she came. She'd whisper it in his ear and against the skin of his neck. She'd pant it rhythmically as he pounded into her or in breathless whispers when they rocked together. He couldn't deny that he rather liked the nickname, this persona she'd created for him in the bedroom. For the most part it stroked his arousal and sent him into mind-blowing orgasms, the syllables curling around her tongue and tripping him into oblivion. However he couldn't help but wonder at times if she did it on purpose as some way to distance herself to the fact that she was sleeping with him. He'd give anything to at least once hear her cry out his real name as she came; to hear a breathless John on her lips.

He remembered the naivety he'd gone into their arrangement with, the way he'd thought he'd be able to handle being with her without actually being with her. The way he thought that satisfying one need would be enough to help him ignore the other; the need for her hand to hold.

And now he was in too deep, just like he'd feared would happen. He'd become addicted, captivated by her smiles and the sway of her hips and the way she felt moving on top of him, under him, around him.

He didn't know how long he'd be able to keep this up. How long he'd be able to bury the fact that he was quite distressingly in love with her. Clawing his way back out was no longer an option; there was nothing to do now, but to fall deeper and deeper and hope that there would still be pieces of himself to pick back up when he hit the bottom.

He lived in fear of the day she would no longer need him the way he was desperately coming to need her. It made his stomach turn just thinking about it, the way she could so easily send his world crashing down around him with no effort at all.

He didn't know how long he could keep this up and he especially didn't know how to stop.

"I think you're being a little dramatic."

"Donna."

"Well, I mean seriously. C'mon John. How many guys would kill to be in your position right now?"

John grumbled under his breath and took a rather aggressive bite out of his sandwich. Donna leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You're not being very helpful or sympathetic of my plight."

Donna snorted. "You're plight? Seriously? Oh yes, I feel so much sympathy for the fact that you're currently banging the woman you're in love with."

John's face went completely red. "Donna!"

"I call them as I see them."

John slumped in his chair starting to wonder if consulting her had been the best idea. As much as he loved Donna, she was a real kick to the ego at times and at the moment his ego was already feeling pretty lousy. At his defeated look, Donna's eyes softened.

"Look, you really want my advice? You've been in love with her since the day you met her. The whole world knows that at this point. It's all 'Rose is brilliant' this and 'Rose is perfect' that and let's hold hands and give each other random hugs and engage in ridiculous amounts of PDA together. I mean you practically worship the ground she walks on. We get it, John. Now why don't you stop being a big dumbo and just tell her that you're in love her."

"But that's...She doesn't want that, Donna. That's the point. She said this was better because it was...uncomplicated. She doesn't want to get hurt again. Remember what Jimmy did? He...he humiliated her. Do you remember how she was after that? She would barely say two words to me for...for weeks."

There was a moment of silence between them before Donna's face gained a thoughtful look, then suddenly she was leaning closer to him across the table. John instinctively copied her motion. "Do you know what you have to do then?" she asked.

"What's that?"

"You're going to have to prove to her that she can trust you. That you aren't going to hurt her like he did."

John looked skeptical. "Do you really think that will work? Maybe she...maybe she's just not interested in me in that way."

Donna rolled her eyes. "There's got to be something about your skinny arse she likes or else she wouldn't be shagging ya."

John groaned, his face falling in his hands. "Donna, can we leave my skinny arse out of this?"

"Do you want my help or not, spaceman?"

"I'm starting to wonder that myself."

Donna's eyebrows both hit her forehead at this and she stood up as if to leave. Panicking, John held out his hands and said, "Fine, you win! Yes, yes I want your help."

Donna made a big show about sitting back down, John rolling his eyes the whole time. Once she was seated she took in a breath. "Now listen. Rose cares about you. And I'd go so far as to say that it isn't in a completely platonic and friendly way. Not with how you two are. You're both just too oblivious to realize it. Oblivious idiots, the pair of you."

John sighed. "I don't know about that, Donna. It's all...none of this is how I imagined it." He looked down towards the table in front of him, tracing absent-minded patterns on the surface as thoughts tumbled around his head. Donna was wrong. She hadn't seen how it was between them. Not really, not this. She didn't understand that there was no way, based on the evidence, that Rose felt anything more for him than friendship.

When he finally met Donna's eyes again, her face had finally gained a look of sympathy. "This is really eating you up, isn't it?"

John didn't answer, but that in itself was answer enough.

Donna took his hand from across the table, squeezing it. He squeezed back gratefully. "John, everything's going to work out alright. I know it doesn't seem like it will, but don't give up hope."

John felt the ghost of a smile cross his lips, even as his eyes watered. Just a little. In a manly kind of way. "Never," he said. "I quite like hope after all."

Donna squeezed his hand once more before letting go. "Good, now after you pay for this," she gestured between their lunches, "we are going to go hit a pub and get drunk off our arses to celebrate the fact that you are actually getting some."

"Donna."

She smiled and gave him a playful shove.

Rose licked her lips above him, her smile turning wicked as her fingers caressed across his bare shoulder, moving down his arm until she reached his hand. She loosely linked their fingers together, her palm over the back of his, and then wrapped their conjoined hands around his exposed cock. She moved their hands down on his erection in one hard, smooth motion before pulling her own hand away and drinking in the sight with hungry eyes.

"I want to watch you," she said.

John felt himself swallow, one hand still tight on his cock, and a blush beginning to make it's way down his face to his chest. Her eyes followed the reddening of his skin. "You want me to get myself off?"

Rose nodded eagerly from her perch on his thighs.

Discomfort knotted inside John's chest. They had admittedly had a substantial amount of sex over the past few months, but something felt especially vulnerable about exposing himself to her in this way. To get lost in his own pleasure while she watched him.

She sensed his hesitation. "If it'd make you feel uncomfortable you don't have to. It was just an idea."

John sucked in a breath, debating. It wasn't that the thought was particularly abhorrent. On the contrary, excitement was already beginning to pool in his stomach as he imagined it. This was all about trust after all. Trust between partners. And that was ultimately what he had been wanting over the past few weeks, wasn't it? To build up her trust in him. And what better way to build up that trust than to show that he trusted her. It was a two-way street after all, even if he felt he had so much more to lose.

Still, he had to try.

John closed his eyes and completed the stroke she'd started with him. He heard Rose's breath hitch, felt her shifting on him, rubbing minutely against his leg and this encouraged him on. It made his grip tighten, made his hand speed up as he began the familiar rhythm.

Rose wasn't silent, not with the way she liked to tease him. Dirty words fell from her lips, encouragement and profanity. Then, "What do you like to think about, Doctor? When you do this by yourself? What do you think about?"

His pace stuttered, just the slightest bit at her question and John felt the air leave his lungs as the 'you' that was trying to work its way past his lips threatened to escape. John covered the sound with a whimper.

Rose's nails dragged against his thigh and she leaned down to get a little closer, her breath playing over him. "Tell me. What do you think about?"

He was trembling lightly, his hand moving faster and his eyes struggling to open so he could read the expression on her face. "I," he tried, "I think about..." His jaw locked up as his thumb brushed the sensitive head. A shuddery moan ended his sentence.

"Doctor," she said, and it sounded like a warning. John felt another groan building up. "Tell me."

Trust, John thought, just as he blurted out, "You. I think about you."

There was silence, and John felt his hand begin to slow as panic worked its way into his system.

"Don't," Rose said and John's heart ceased beating. "Don't stop."

His heart took off again at a galloping pace, blood pumping loudly in his veins and obediently John resumed his movements, building up his rhythm again in no time.

"So you've thought about me. What about before this all started? Then too?" There was heat burning in her gaze and it felt like it was burning him too. John steeled his nerves.

"Yes, yes. I...yes, then too."

Rose smiled and John felt like he could breathe again. "I may have had a few fantasies about you as well over the past few years," she said in a low voice. John's cock throbbed in his hand and he groaned, feeling himself getting closer to his release.

"S-show me," he stuttered out, his eyes dropping to the apex of her thighs.

Hesitation played across her features, much like it must have played across his earlier. He watched the emotions flicker in her eyes, almost too swift for him to catch. John wasn't even breathing. Then her hand began inching down her stomach, her eyes looking at him through thick, black lashes. She began fast, with slick circles on her clit, working herself faster until she was matching his pace.

He wasn't surprised when he got there first, his head flinging sideways on his pillow, breaking the eye contact as a long moan was pulled from his lips, his eyes squeezing shut and his body tensing with release. The pleasure weaved down his spine in dizzying patterns and when his eyes had finally regained vision, he looked up to catch a glance at the remaining stars that adorned his ceiling. John smiled, fancying that maybe for the moment they were shining just a bit brighter.

Rose was getting closer. John could tell by the way her face was scrunching up adorably and her mouth was hung open, her chest heaving. Beautiful.

"Come, Rose," he said softly.

When she did, she shined brighter than any star.

Rose was gone from his dorm room not ten minutes later. Dressed and put back together, her eyes unreadable and the glow on her skin eclipsed by the mask she had put back in place. Both of them back to their separate worlds.

John's hope burned out like a star going supernova: hot and bright and then...nothing.