One Thousand Reasons
By Fluffy Nabs
Doctor Who – Tenth Doctor/Rose PWOP
Rating: M
The were back from New Earth and Rose was dozing on the couch in the console room. After setting them adrift in the Vortex, the Doctor gazed at her for a moment. The memory of her lips on his – even if they had been controlled by Cassandra's will – seared through him. He had to take a deep breath to calm himself.
He walked slowly to the couch, and sat on the edge next to her. She murmured sleepily, and opened her eyes briefly before closing them again and snuggling deeper into the couches' dilapidated upholstery.
He touched her face gently, imagining the festering boils and hideous deformities of the plague of illnesses marring her features. It could so easily have happened. He shuddered, and with an effort, put it out of his mind.
"Rose," he said softly.
"Mmm," she groaned. "Wha'iz'i'?"
He suppressed a laugh and her nearly incoherent query. "Rose, you need to sleep. You've had a long day."
She took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes. "I could just sleep here," she murmured."
"Come on," he chided gently. "To bed with you."
She pouted.
"All right," he said. "Just this once, because I'm feeling gallant. But don't expect me to make this a regular thing." And leaning forward, he scooped her into his arms, one arm behind her knees and the other supporting her shoulders, with her head resting on his shoulder. As he stood, she slipped an arm around his neck, and buried her face in his neck. The feel of her breath against his skin made every hair on his body stand up. He took her to her room, drawing in her clean, unique scent with every inhalation.
When he laid her upon her mattress, and began to straighten, he looked at her face and saw that she was looking at him. "Are you awake enough to undress?" he asked.
A slow, sex grin spread across her lips, and he suddenly realized the double entendre. "Er, I mean --" he fumbled. "That is to say, ah, get ready for bed. Not that I want to undress you. I mean, not that I don't want to undress you, I don't want you to think that. Oh! I – I -- That didn't come out right. Er --" he was blushing furiously.
She laughed, a rich sound deep in her throat, and he stopped babbling. "Doctor?"
"Yes, Rose?" His voice squeaked. Unbidden to his mind the sight of her face, flushed with desire, just after she'd kissed him, the pink blush reaching down that enticing V of flesh left bare by her shirt. He swallowed heavily.
"Hold still."
He froze, and she half-sat up in the bed. She reached her silky hands out and captured his face, before slowly bringing her lips to meet his. She kissed him, softly, sweetly, lingeringly. Fire spread from her lips and her hands into his body. The scent of her, the taste of her, the feel of her, they consumed him more completely than the fires of regeneration. When she pulled back, it was all he could do not to lean into her again.
He knew that just a few days ago, in his relative time line, he'd had a thousand and one Reasons Not to Kiss Rose. For some reason, he couldn't recall any of them; perhaps his regeneration had befuddled his mind. Perhaps it was just hormones. After a pause, he whispered, "What was that for?"
She smiled, and there was something predatory in it. "Just in case I'm ever possessed by another being and made to kiss you again, you now have a real kiss from me to compare it to."
"Oh?" His throat was so tight he could barely eke out the word.
"Nothing like the real thing, eh?"
He held his breath for a long moment, considering what to say, his eyes drawn to her lips, noticing the moisture there, and knowing that just a moment ago he'd been kissing her. "You know," he breathed, his eyelids heavy. "I think I might need a few more demonstrations. Just so that I have the full range of material for comparison."
She bit her lip, and grinned. "Oh, really?"
"Absolutely," he said, and settled himself carefully on the edge of her bed, bracing one arm on her other side as he leaned closer. "The sooner I'm able to tell if it's really you, or not, the sooner I can get you back."
"Mmm," she hummed, and he watched as she stuck her tongue out at the side of her mouth, just a tiny bit, and touched her teeth to it. "I think you're right."
"I'm always right," he told her seriously. "I'm the Doctor."
She laughed and lightly grasped the back of his neck. "You're so full of it," she said happily. She reclined, pulling gently, and he went willingly.
He was lying half on top of her, his left hip nudging her left hip, his torso slanted across hers. She buried a hand in his hair and was running her fingers through it again and again. He half-closed his eyes in bliss and sighed at the feeling. "That's wonderful," he groaned.
She didn't stop. With her other hand, she reached down and interlocked her fingers with his. "Doctor," she whispered.
"Yes, Rose?"
"Kiss me."
So he did.
He'd been traveling with her for quite a long time, more than a year by her reckoning. They'd hugged, and held hands, and exchanged smoldering looks and verbal innuendo. And sometimes, when she was dreaming, he joined her and there was nothing they didn't do together.
But those were dreams, and as fantastic as they were, they were nothing as compared to this.
Her right hand remained on his scalp and neck and face, while her left lightly stroked his right hand. He was hard – this body's first erection. It felt rather large, which pleased him for Rose's sake, and the tension curling in his belly was nearly overwhelming. They kissed and kissed and kissed. She tasted like toothpaste and mint-y dental floss and behind that like leftover Christmas dinner and tea. Deeper than all of those, was the flavor of her. He could taste her emotions, so many chemical reactions embedded in the soft flesh of her tongue and inner cheeks. Overriding everything was the heavy, sweet taste of lust.
He wondered if she tasted this good at that warm, wet spot between her thighs, and it was that thought that undid him. He gasped into her mouth and his body tensed and his sex swelled and spilled into his boxers and trousers. Over and over he convulsed with pleasure, groaning her name again and again.
After a minute, he recovered enough to open his eyes and look at her. She was gaping at him, her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide. She was bright pink from ears to breast, and he could feel the heat of her through all of their clothes.
"Sorry," he managed. "Bit excited, there. Haven't done this sort of thing for a while, you know. And, um, never in this body, of course." He grinned, embarrassed. "You just… you're so beautiful. You tasted so good." The Doctor swallowed, looking at her lips, her glistening tongue. "You're amazing. Sorry."
She bit her lip. She was breathing quite heavily.
"Sorry," he said again. "I've made a mess."
She shook her head. "That – I don't --" she stopped, swallowed, and tried again. "That was so hot."
He blinked. "What? Really?"
Rose nodded.
A smug grin stole over his face. "Rose Tyler, if you think that was hot, just you wait 'til you see my moves." He sprang from the bed, and he put out a hand to quickly forestall the disappointment on her face. "I'll be right back," he said, gesturing to the front of his pants where a wetness seeped through. "I'll just tidy this up. Don't move! Just – just stay right there." He bounced on the balls of his feet and then ran for the door. "I'll be right back!"
He was only gone for six minutes. It took him 46 seconds to run to his bedroom, 37 seconds to shed his clothes, 133 seconds to wipe himself clean, 25 seconds to locate and apply a cologne he thought she'd like, 73 seconds to find and don a simple robe (Howard's robe, actually) and slippers, and another 46 seconds to run back to her bedroom. He dashed through her door, catching himself on the frame, stopping short at the sight of her.
She was wearing a little nightie. It was made from soft, opaque pink cotton, and was little more than a glorified T-shirt. It said, "Princess" across the front in golden glittery appliqué. She'd brushed her hair into a glossy sheen and was standing – rather nervously – next to her bed.
"Hello," he said, rather breathlessly, due to his dashing about.
"Hello," she said back, also rather breathlessly. He wondered what she'd been doing while he'd been changing.
He walked fully into the room, his eyes on her. "You're so beautiful," he said.
She ducked her head, but glanced up at him through her eyelashes, a move she knew full well was devastatingly sexy. "You are, too."
"I'm beautiful? What happened to 'sort of brown?'" He was standing just before her, now, as close as he could be without actually touching her.
She grinned. "Brown is sexy."
"Like my suit?"
"Oh, yeah. Good choice, that suit."
"I knew it!" He crowed. "Gone are the days when you, Rose Tyler, can tease me about my fashion sense.
She almost timidly reached out a finger to brush his knuckles. Their fingers met and slid against each other. The soft, gliding friction of her skin brushing the back of his hand, his palm, and the very sensitive skin between his fingers was all it took to make his sex hard again. Rose, eyes drifted closed, was swaying slightly, focused on the sensation of touching him for the pure pleasure of it.
The Doctor reached up his free hand and ran it through her hair, glorying in the lustrous strands. She'd recently had it dyed and styled, cut slightly shorter than usual. He liked it. He closed the few inches between them and buries his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of chemicals and shampoo and Rose.
His body was pressed against hers, and she had stilled. He could feel her breasts brushing against his chest with every breath she took. She was breathing deeply and just a bit rapidly. He tilted her head back. "You smell so good."
She smiled. "You do, too. S'that cologne?"
He kissed her temple and hummed an assent. "Glad you like it." He mentally resolved to wear it every day. He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and then, finally, her lips.
Her free hand came to rest at his waist, the other still sensuously toying with his fingers. She kissed him back with a fervor that pleased him. When he touched his tongue to her lips, she parted them. He began slowly thrusting his tongue in and out of her mouth, sliding along her tongue lightly, sparking pleasure. Rose groaned and rocked against him.
His erection brushed against her stomach, and he wished fervently that there were no clothes between them. He broke the kiss, panting, eyes heavy-lidded, needing to touch her. The Doctor gently seized her shoulders and backed her to the bed. He pinned her there with his gaze, and then slowly pushed her back until she was lying prone. Her hair spilled around her head like golden strands of fine silk. His eyes strayed down, to where her breasts heaved as she drew breath. He could see them pulsating with the force of her heartbeat beneath her ribcage.
Rose tilted her head back, offering an excellent view of the smooth column of her neck, which he promptly swooped down to kiss. She gasped softly. "That's perfect. Oh! That feels… so… good…"
The Doctor kissed her in the same spot again, and then moved to a particularly sensitive area, just where her neck and shoulder met, to kiss and nibble there, loving the soft, mewling sounds she made. Through their clothes he ground his cock against her thigh.
She reached down between them, using both hands to undo his belt, and then she slid her hands over his waist, pushing his boxers and trousers down to his knees. The feel of her touching his bare skin was superbly sensual. Her hands roamed upwards, tracing the dips and ridges of his spare muscles. They slipped around this his back, and explored until they found his mole. She smiled up at him. "There it is! The famous mole." She licked her lips. "I love it."
"Me, too," he said. Emboldened by her action, lifted her shirt. She was wearing matching pink panties, the briefest of bikini bottoms. He could see the texture of her pubic hair beneath the thin, soft fabric. He paused to caress her through the barrier. She threw back her head and lifted her hips at his touch.
The Doctor lifted her shirt higher, exposing her breasts. Once it was gathered under her arms, she sat up and took it the rest of the way off. Once it was over her head, she looked down at him, and saw him for the first time.
She froze. He froze. For a long time they just looked at each other.
He, for one, was amazed at her beauty. Dumbfounded, even. At a loss for words. Speechless. She sat there in the soft light of the room, wearing nothing but a tiny pair of panties, and she smelled of lust and radiated heat. She was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. But her expression was inscrutable as she gazed down at him, at the one part of his body that was obviously inhuman.
He was beginning to think it must have been Mickey who put him into Howard's pajamas, after all.
He cleared his throat as quietly as he could. "Is something… wrong?"
She lifter her eyes to see his face, and saw the trepidation there. Instantly she smiled to dispel his fear, and shook her head. "Nothing's wrong, no! I just --" She stopped and let out a tremulous breath. "This is so new to me. You are. And… and that." She nodded toward his sex. "I've never… made love… with an alien, before."
His expression was one of tenderness. He moved to sit next to her on the bed. "Rose, you don't have to be afraid. It's still me."
"I know."
He reached out and touched her cheek. "We'll go as slowly as you want, and stop whenever you want. We won't do anything that you aren't prepared for, I promise."
She leaned into his caress. "I'm not afraid," she said. He believed her – there was no fear in her scent. Just a lot of lust, actually. "I don't want to do something wrong or rude or – or, I don't know, taboo." She let her breath out in a huff.
"Taboo?" He lifted his eyebrows. "Such as?"
"I don't know," she said. "Alien culture, alien taboos. You tell me."
He traced her jaw from ear to chin, and then touched the corner of her mouth with his thumb. "I think that as long as we're both enjoying ourselves, there's nothing taboo about what we do together."
She grinned, her tongue stuck in her teeth. Quickly, before it disappeared, he swooped down and kissed it. She responded instantly, pressing herself to him. And then she grabbed his hand, and placed it against her breast. The feel of her nipple hardening in his palm was exquisite. He broke from her mouth and kissed his way toward her breasts, was momentarily torn between the two, and decided on the right, since he was already holding the left. She lay back down, and he followed her, kneeling next to her.
While his right hand stroked her breast, fondled and pinched and rolled her nipple, and his mouth mirrored those actions, he put his left hand to good use and slid it slowly down her body until he was touching her through her panties.
Rose moaned and lifted her hips from the bed in a slow, rocking rhythm. She grabbed him by the ears and hauled him up her body. Her lips sought his once more, and he obliged happily, kissing her. While she wanted it deep and rough, he teased her, kissing her lightly, pulling back when she tried to demand more. When, finally, she accepted, he dragged his lips back and forth over hers until she was moaning, and then pressed more firmly against her. His tongue darted out and demanded entrance, and she let him in. The softly pebbled texture of her tongue sliding against his own was almost more than he could stand. He couldn't stop himself from kissing her more and more deeply. They were both gasping for air, trying to breath through their noses, finding it not enough.
He broke free, rested his forehead against hers. They panted frantically
"Can I touch you?" she whispered.
"Oh, please, yes!" The Doctor moved his hand back and forth over her panties, feeling the heat and the dampness through the thin fabric. He pressed his finger into the slit and moved in slowly up and down, pressing into the bud of nerves at its apex.
Rose raised her head and looked down at him, where he was pressed against her thigh. She reached out her hand and touched him, so lightly and delicately. He felt instantly on fire. Of its own volition his cock jumped, and she giggled a bit.
"Mind of its own," he said.
"Really?" She looked up at him, half-expecting him to confirm that a brain resided in his member.
"Er… no." He smiled. "Not really. Just an expression."
"Ah." She touched him again, and he struggled to hold still. When she wrapped her hand around it and started to stroke him up and down, he groaned. "That would give a whole new meaning to the phrase, 'thinking with your other head.'"
He laughed and kissed her again. She shifted her hip under his hand, and he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be touching her. He resumed his motion; his fingers stroking her clit mirrored the movement of her hand on his cock. While his hand was busy, he worked his way down from her lips to her breast, and took a nipple into her mouth. She was writhing slowly, and making soft, gasping noises. Her hand on his sex, stroking, touching, was powerfully sweet. At that moment she could have asked him for anything and he would have done it.
"I want to feel you," he breathed, and looked up at her.
Her deep brown eyes met his, and the look of lust on her face made his testicals lift and tighten in anticipation of release. "Yeah," she whispered.
She helped him pull her panties down and off, and he looked down at her mound. Soft ringlets of dark brown hair, the same color as her eyebrows, hid a tiny pink treasure of nerves, and a slick tightness that nearly every cell in his body was screaming at him to enter.
The Doctor swallowed heavily. He could smell her arousal, the scent dominated the room. Slowly, he slipped a long finger into her body. She hissed in pleasure, and when he used his thumb to describe a short back-and-forth movement across her clit, she lifted her hips off the bed and groaned out loud. "Doctor!" she cried.
"Beautiful Rose," he murmured, and kissed her nearest nipple. He licked it, reveling in the taste. "So desirable."
"I want to feel you in me."
He pressed the finger that was inside of her up, trying to find the fabled G-spot. He didn't think he did find it, but she moaned all the same. "I am in you, Rose."
Her hands were running frantically through his hair again and again, straying as far down as she could over his neck and shoulders and back. "Not your finger," she managed to gasp out. "Your… thing."
He grinned. "Which thing would that be?" He couldn't resist teasing her.
"Your cock!" She was staring at him now, the lust joined by something fierce and demanding. "Fuck me, Doctor!"
Hearing the word trip out of her mouth was the most erotic sound he could think of. Without another word, he withdrew his finger and rolled on top of her. She reached between them and grabbed his sex in her hand, and guided it to the appropriate place while she lifted her hips.
He pushed in, and Time stopped. All that existed in the Universe was Rose beneath him and the sensation of her body enveloping his. She started moving her hips while her hands glided over his skin, touching his face, his chest, his arms, his stomach, brushing his pubic hair. He pulled out a bit, and pushed into her again, hard enough to make her body move and her breasts bounce. It was so sexy he did it again, and again, and again.
The Doctor couldn't tear his eyes off of Rose beneath him, flushed and sweaty and bouncing and writhing. With every thrust she was making these little, high-pitched sounds that he could feel in his loins. He knew he couldn't last much longer. "Touch yourself," he managed to gasp.
Her hand flew down to where they joined, and he watched while she stimulated her clit. The sight was so unbelievably erotic. When she stopped making noises he began driving into her faster and harder. He was close but he wanted to watch her finish. Suddenly she drew in a deep breath and held it and her body arched upwards. Her hips began bucking frantically, her legs shuddering. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream while her eyes squeezed shut.
The Doctor, seeing her orgasm so beautifully, couldn't hold it back any longer. Three more thrusts, and he spilled his seed into her. He wouldn't let his eyes close, because he didn't want to stop looking at her. The pleasure welled through him and overtook him, and he was vaguely aware that he was moaning her name again and again with each pulse of his orgasm.
When the last wave passed over him, and he found that he still existed, after all, the Doctor looked up at Rose. The look on her face was indescribably, utterly adoring.
"You're beautiful," he told her, and disengaged, then shifted his body so that he was laying only half on top of her.
"Doctor, I --" suddenly she stopped and averted her gaze. After a moment she looked at him again. "I need to know. Was this… a one-time thing?"
He gaped. "One-time thing?" His mind raced through all the possible reasons she could be asking. "I…" he stopped, swallowed. "Do you want it to be a one-time thing?" If she said yes, he would simply die, he knew it. A small part of him wondered if she was aware of the absolute power she held over him.
"No!" She shook her head, and he allowed himself to breath again. "Doctor, all this time we've been traveling together, and you never, ever gave an indication that we could be intimate like this." She shrugged and bit her lip for a second. "We flirted, but whenever I tried to get close, you -- you put this wall up. I thought maybe you didn't want me."
"Oh, Rose, no," he said softly. "I didn't accept your… your invitation because I was trying to protect you."
"From what?" she wondered.
"Well, from me, actually."
The look of shocked surprise that came upon her face was almost comical. She tugged his head down, and stroked his hair. "Sometimes you can be so thick."
"Never could hide the truth from you, Rose."
She huffed, and he let his eyes drift close in pleasure as she ran her fingers through his hair and over his scalp. "I'm not goin' anywhere, Doctor. I don't know what else I can do to convince you of that. I though about getting' it tattooed on my shoulder, but I don't like needles."
He squeezed her a bit, his affection overwhelming him for a moment. "Can you forgive me for being so stupid and stubborn?"
"Yeah." She planted a kiss in his hair. Then she yawned.
He looked up. "Are you tired?"
"Jus' a bit."
"How much is a bit, exactly?"
"Ish," she elaborated, and yawned again, and they grinned at one another.
"Do you want me to leave?"
Rose shook her head. "I want you to stay."
He adjusted his position so that he was laying on his side looking at her. "I'll stay as long as you want," he said softly.
Her eyes met his, and she smiled tenderly. "Good night," she said.
"Good night, Rose." He watched her close her eyes, and he began to count the Reasons to Make Love to Rose. By morning, he had well over a thousand.
End
