Rory knew Martha was beautiful. That was never a question. But seeing her exposed took his admiration for her to another level.
They examined each other's bodies intently like two students prepping for an anatomy practicum. Rory took note of every square inch of her. Every curve. Every mole.
He traced the lines of her body slowly, alternating between kisses and caresses. Every now and then he'd test the waters with his tongue. He had so many questions that demanded answers. How did she like to be touched? Where and for how long? What made her moan? What was she like when she reached her peak? He wanted to know everything about her.
Martha, in turn, had figured out that Rory was quite ticklish along his collar bone. He tried to stifle a laugh when her lips brush up against his clavicle. "Sorry."
Martha hovered over him. Her hair draped around her face like a dark veil. "You always say sorry at the worst times." She smiled.
"I don't know what to say then," Rory confessed as he ran his hands over her bare hips and up her back. "I sorta feel like I should be apologising for apologising."
Martha scoffed softly and kissed his nose. "You have a naked woman straddling your lap, surely you can think of something better to do than apologise for being ticklish.
"Naturally." His hands travelled up her sides towards her breasts, but he stopped short of touching them. "But I need to say something first."
Martha looked slightly disappointed at his hesitation to keep going, but to her credit, she listened calmly. "What is it?"
Rory sat up so that they were eye to eye. He placed his hands on her hips and held her close to him. "We both may love other people, but you're not some consolation prize to me," he informed her. "I'm serious about this, Martha. I'm serious about you. I could fall so hard for you, if you let me."
Martha cupped his face gently. "We said 'no pressure,'" she reminded him.
Rory realised that 'no pressure' had become their mantra. One that they never really needed to begin with. "There is no pressure," Rory insisted. "There's never been pressure. Being with you has always been easy. Loving you…is easy."
Martha stroked his cheek with her thumb. "Are you saying you love me?"
"I am." Rory exhaled and nodded confidently. He wrapped his arm around Martha's waist and changed their position so that he was on top of her. "Martha Jones, I am inexplicably in love with you."
Martha pulled his face closer to hers. "I love you too," she confessed before kissing his lips.
The kisses they shared had always been passionate, but this one was different. All the other times they had been holding back, or rather, they had been holding on. They held onto the past. Onto Amy and Martha's Doctor, but now they finally let go. Now, it was just the two of them.
"Do I have to get up?" Martha asked lazily from her spot in Rory's bed. Their bodies were still tangled and bare from a night of lovemaking.
Rory rolled over and kissed her shoulder. "You've been asking me that question for the last two months," he reminded her. "Every day since you first slept over. Do you even remember what your own flat looks like?"
"I keep falling asleep in your arms then I don't want to get up and go home in the morning."
"So don't," Rory insisted as his lips found their way to her neck.
"I have to go home. I work tonight and I don't have any clean clothes."
"I meant you should just move in here," Rory clarified.
Martha rolled onto her back and looked him in the eyes. "Seriously?"
"We've been together for four months if we count from Christmas," he pointed out. "We're always together anyway and everyone at the hospital knows. What's stopping us?"
"For starters? You have to meet my mum first."
"Is that all?" Rory smirked. "I'm great with mums!"
Martha scoffed softly. "You haven't met Francine Jones yet."
Martha stood next to Rory's sofa with a look of shock on her face. Her mother's actions had literally stunned her into silence.
"Honestly!" Francine shook her head at her daughter. "I can't believe you've kept this one hidden for so long." She and Rory sat close together on the sofa. "He's such a delight." She beamed.
Martha nodded unconsciously. "He's something alright."
Francine glanced at her watch. "It's just a shame that I have to go." She stood up. "But you have to bring Rory over for Sunday lunch," she told her daughter as she headed for the door. "Introduce him to Tish and Leo."
"And dad." Martha added.
"Yes, well." Francine rolled her eyes at the mention of Clive Jones. "I hope to see you again soon, Rory." She pulled him into a friendly hug.
"As do I, Mrs Jones."
"I told you, call me Francine."
Rory nodded. "Francine."
Francine leaned in close to Martha as she started out the door. "You picked a keeper this time," she told her seriously. "Don't cock it up."
Martha closed the door once her mother left and leaned against it. "I can't believe this."
"Yea," Rory nodded as he began to clean up the remnants left behind from tea. "Mums should never say the word 'cock.'" He cringed slightly as he deposited the dishes in the kitchen. "It just feels wrong."
"My mum loves you," Martha marvelled.
"I told you I was good with mums."
"Yea, but my mum loves you."
"Is that so hard to believe?" Rory asked as he walked over to her.
"She's hated every single bloke I've ever brought home at some point."
"All of them?"
"She slapped the Doctor. She liked Tom until he proposed without asking permission first and Mickey…" She exhaled. "He probably got the worst of it."
"But they're not around," Rory reminded her. "I think something can be said about maternal instinct." He wrapped his arms around her.
"If my mum loves you, maybe the universe is telling me something." Martha joked as she eased into his into his embrace.
"Or maybe the world is gonna end."
"Nah," Martha shook her head. "This isn't how the world ends."
"So are we really going to do this?" He asked anxiously.
Martha nodded. "Let's move in together."
