AN: Such a big thank you to beta T'Kirr who really helped me with this.
In the late evening, as twilight settled into dusk and the lamps lit up the streets of Barcelona, Rose and the Doctor celebrated their last night in the city with a trip to the local market. Through smiles, banter, curious questions, and mini-lectures, they haphazardly planned out their final Spanish meal as enticing ingredients were added to the basket one by one.
Freshly baked bread, a house-made green olive tapenade, Manchego cheese, one huge tomato, several cured meats, and a handful of Marcona almonds all made the cut. Stocked with their food, they shifted the grocery bags to opposite sides so they could walk back to their little posada hand in hand.
They had walked these streets several times in their touring of the city, and their familiarity must have shown when a group of American tourists came up and asked them directions. Rose let the Doctor answer for them, giving detailed instructions to the visitors about the best route to their destination. She smiled contentedly to herself at the situation, that they had so easily fallen back into traveling; finding a home in not having one.
Finally back in the room, the indoor picnic was spread on the bed for lack of a proper table. They sampled different combinations, discussing the merits and shortcomings of each. Rose knew she was onto something with her tomato-rubbed bread smothered with tapenade when it became clear the Doctor had his designs on it.
She took a bite of her culinary handiwork before he could snatch it away.
"Mmm, I'm gonna miss this," she mumbled through a full mouth.
Not one to be denied, he plucked the remaining piece from her hand and ate it before she could protest.
"What?" he asked, matching her rudeness as he talked while he chewed. "Traveling or Barcelona in particular?"
"This food," she clarified, shoving him lightly for taking her food. "Didn't think we were giving up traveling."
His face grew a bit more serious as he loaded up another slice of bread with toppings.
"Not permanently," he agreed thoughtfully. "But the TARDIS will need monitoring if we have any hope of her maturing in our lifetime. We may not be able to go far."
The Doctor raised his eyes to gauge her reaction to this news as he busied himself with assembling food.
She gave him a small smile, hoping to convey her continued support of their goal. "S'alright. We'll just have to take some of this olive stuff with us, it's gorgeous."
He grinned happily and offered the piece he was working on to her instead of taking it himself. It was a sweet gesture that made her heart sing as much as his candid expression.
"We'll pick some up on the way out tomorrow," he promised.
They would have to. By the end of the evening, the tub of spread was gone, along with pretty much everything else save a few crusts of bread. The scraps cleared from the bed, Rose shook the coverlet vigorously to remove any crumbs before going about their nightly routine.
When she came out from the en suite dressed for bed in the usual oversized shirt and shorts, she found the Doctor reading by the light of one lamp above the bed. He had to make do without his brainy specs for now, but he looked just as clever focusing intently on the words of the pages within.
Rose crawled onto the mattress beside him, content to just watch him and wait rather than interrupting his reading. It was only a moment before he closed the book and deposited it on the nightstand so he could turn to her unimpeded.
It was obvious he felt more comfortable with her now, dressed only in thin cotton pyjama pants and lounging easily with his head propped up on his elbow to look down on her.
She smiled up at him serenely. "Traveling with you, can I just say..."
"I love it," he finished for her, running his hand tenderly through her blond hair fanning out on the pillow.
His hand in turn rose to twine in the hair falling against her neck. The absent motion turned into a deliberate caress, across her collarbone over her shoulder and down her arm.
"You're beautiful," he murmured adoringly.
She turned and hid her face in the pillow to spare him the ridiculous grin on her face.
"You can't do that," she admonished mildly.
He smirked, lifting her chin so he could see her. "Do what, compliment you?"
"Say ridiculously soppy things and look at me like that," she clarified.
"Why," he needled, brushing his nose against hers. "What will happen?"
The Doctor didn't give her the chance to answer before he captured her lips softly. The kiss started gentle and chaste but he deepened it slowly. Each tug and slide of lips and tongue and teeth was drawn out and unhurried. Every subtle stroke of his hands against her sides helped the anticipation build gradually.
Before Rose caught on he had rolled his body to cover hers. As more of his front fell into her, she couldn't fight the hitch in breath at feeling his arousal pressed against her hip. It never occurred to her this might just happen naturally, on a hotel bed in Barcelona with no outside forces or prompting. Now it was already well on its way.
As if sensing hesitation, the Doctor pulled away to look at her properly.
"Okay?" he managed through the haze of desire that threatened to overwhelm him.
It was equally frightening as it was exhilarating, losing control completely over to passion. If he had to fall, he was glad it was with her. The love they shared was solid and promising enough to quell the anxiety he felt at letting go.
Any lingering doubts were completely extinguished by Rose's brilliant, confident smile.
"Perfect," she sighed contentedly. "It's perfect."
With her acceptance, he leaned in to kiss her again. First on the lips, then down, trailing a hot path of teeth and tongue over her jaw, down her neck, and out toward her shoulder until the shirt got in the way. She laughed at his frustrated groan but leaned back and helpfully divested the offending garment.
Bestowed with a new canvas of bare skin, the Doctor wasted no time using his lips and hands to map out the uncharted territory of Rose's chest, her stomach, her arms and shoulders, everywhere but the neglected anatomy of her breasts. She tolerated his aimless exploration for a while but eventually took control with an impatient huff, threading her fingers deep into his hair - great hair, she corrected inwardly - and tugging his head where she wanted his mouth the most. His consequent groan and thrust against her hips told her he enjoyed it more than he might readily admit.
His mouth finally found a perfect pink nipple with her sharp guidance, licking the peak taut before applying the gentle suction of his lips. Rose arched her back in a profound curve, encouraging him to continue this exquisite torture. She felt the proud smile flourish against her skin. He released her nipple with one last taste and readily gave her other breast the same treatment, more than happy to oblige her nonverbal cues.
The slow burn of pleasure was amazing but not nearly enough. Rose had waited so long for this moment and the urge rose up to take him now. Hands still fisted deliciously in his locks, she pulled him up into a sloppy kiss and rutted her hips against his in provocation.
"Now," she ordered thickly. "Please."
"Oh, yes," he growled his agreement.
Neither seemed to care if their scramble to fully undress resembled two teenagers eager to feel skin for the first time. There was only love and desire and the urgency to become one in the very next moment.
Rose felt her chest tighten at the reality of seeing him like this. With all boundaries and clothes removed, she felt naked in more ways than one. The urgency was still there, in their rapid heartbeats and panted breaths, but time seemed to crawl as she drank him in.
The Doctor didn't bother to hide his appreciation as he raked his eyes over her form. As though purposefully trying to quell any insecurity Rose may have felt, he gazed surely into her eyes and smiled brilliantly.
"Still beautiful," he assured her. "Even more beautiful," he amended, gently brushing a lock of hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. "Come here."
He reached for her and pulled her atop himself, allowing her to straddle him. Rose planting her hands firmly on his slim shoulders for balance. He smoothed his palms up the inside of her legs, observing his two fingers curl to tease the slick flesh of her center. Her keening moan and slippery inner thighs told him she was more than ready.
"This way?" she asked breathlessly.
Hazy brown eyes shot up to her face and he nodded, the slight frown indicating he had somehow managed to activate the logical side of his brain despite the overwhelming feelings assaulting his senses. "It's better for -"
Before he could finish, she jumped in, smacking him playfully on the shoulder. "Stop it."
She could picture him now, calculating the angles and velocity of sex with complicated equations in his head. Not in her bed.
Clearly pouting, the Doctor rubbed his abused skin sulkily.
"Miraculously, I spontaneously generated from just a hand. It would be a shame to lose my entire arm because you keep insisting on hitting me," he quipped drolly.
In retrospect, bringing up the metacrisis in bed was probably not the smartest move, but luckily enough for him Rose seemed unfazed.
Her expression softened with a crooked smile. "Don't overthink this. Just feel."
"I want to please you," he protested earnestly.
"I've wanted you for at least five years," Rose admitted bravely. "Just knowing you want me, too... I'm pleased. Promise."
His eyes widened. "Five - ?"
She silenced him with a kiss before he could do the math and feed his considerable ego further. One luxurious kiss melted into another until conversation was forgotten completely. They communicated instead with the wet slide of lips and tongue and the questing touch of hands.
Despite her earlier rebuke, she didn't shift their position. Instead, she leveraged his distraction to reach down between them and position him at her entrance. At the first wet slide of his length against her folds, he tore his lips from hers and gasped her name into the heated air between them.
Encouraged, Rose sank down on him agonizingly slowly, drawing out this coveted union immortalized in dreams. The feeling of him finally inside her, filling and stretching her, was a comfort to be savored. She leaned her forehead against his and basked in it.
For the Doctor, the burning, fluid pressure of her surrounding him was almost too much. His human body elevated the tactile sensations above all else, demanding forward momentum. With no exertion, he found he was already panting with the effort of holding still and allowing her this moment.
Without warning, she flexed her internal muscles, gripping him purposefully without moving her hips. When he groaned and looked up at her, she flashed a cheeky smirk.
"Rose," he grunted roughly. "Now that's not fair."
She rewarded him with a messy, languid kiss and a roll of her hips. "I'm waiting, Doctor," she breathed against his lips. "Show me your moves."
The spark of challenge danced in his eyes as he complied, drawing out of her lazily only to slam home rapidly. Her eyes slid shut and she threw her head back with an answering moan, golden hair spilling back over her shoulders. Desperate to hear that beautiful sound again, he repeated the action, again and again until the rhythm began to spiral toward fast and careless.
Rose lost herself in the frenzied pace, grinding her hips and seeking more, always more, friction and sensation and heat. Catching on, he slid a hand between them to where they were joined. His thumb toyed with her oversensitized bundle of nerves, deftly timing each circling touch with the thrust of his hips. It was perfect - no, it was too soon - no, not soon enough. She held back, trying to draw out the searing tension of riding the edge for a little longer.
The Doctor groaned her name again, just as the wave crested, and she opened her eyes to see his dark, fathomless gaze begging her to give in. She crashed. The raw scream that tore from her throat when her orgasm hit was probably too loud, but the dreamy smile it drew from him was worth everything.
As she came down she realized he had slowed, drawing every twinge and aftershock out to its fullest reach. She raised a hand to gently cup his cheek and he brought his up to cover it, pressing a tender kiss into her palm.
Instinct took over from there, driving him recklessly on to the end. Rose was there with him, murmuring encouragements and endearments against his lips even as his mouth went slack. She indulged in watching him fall apart, the sharp bite of his fingernails gripping her hips steady as he bucked up into her faster, harder, deeper.
With a hoarse cry, he let go. Never before had the Doctor felt such chaos, this mind-numbing ecstasy of human release. He was gone from himself, shattered and spread across the universe in the blaze of a comet's trail, burning and falling. Then, just as suddenly, he was back. He was heavy and weightless, sated and broken, with only Rose to pull him back together.
She did, with soft kisses and tender caresses as they both caught their breath and strived to slow two racing heartbeats, a matched set. Rose seemed loathe to move, nuzzling her face into his neck in the afterglow and letting him stay inside her just a little bit longer.
Eventually, her tired muscles gave in and she rolled off him. She collapsed heavily onto the mattress only to quickly snuggle into his side. As though bringing the whole act full circle, the Doctor gently fingered the ends of her hair, now slightly damp from lying against her sweat-slicked skin.
"You okay?" she ventured hoarsely into the silence. He gave her an almost insulted questioning look and she clarified. "You're being quiet."
He grinned wickedly. "Would you rather I talked?"
"You usually do," she quipped with a scoff.
"If I talk I can't listen," the Doctor resolved plainly, fitting his chin atop her head. "And you, Rose Tyler, make the most beautiful sounds in the midst of pleasure."
She blushed and hid her pleased smile against his side. It was almost too wonderful to believe they could have this now. This effortless intimacy on top of the friendship that meant everything to her. In this moment she was happy. Rose wouldn't be surprised if she was glowing as brightly as her TARDIS key.
Lazily the Doctor continued to play his fingers through her hair. Rose caressed the bare skin of his chest, a privilege she'd neglected in their frantic rush to disrobe.
"I should've thought about protection," Rose realized belatedly. She was so swept up in the excitement of finally joining with him it hadn't even crossed her mind.
"You're not -" he stopped, thinking better of using the technical term. "The timing's not right for that."
She scrutinized him warily. "You can tell that, too? From licking me?"
"Well," he averted his eyes almost sheepishly. "So it would seem, yes. I don't have as much control anymore. Some biochemical markers stand out more than others. Seems to be a toss-up whether they come through."
"Would you know? If I was..." she trailed off, swirling her fingers absently above his navel.
The Doctor shivered almost imperceptibly at the touch and nodded.
"Yes," he answered honestly. "Long before a little white stick."
It felt weird to be having this conversation as pillow talk, although Rose supposed it actually made a lot of sense.
"I don't want that," she began, then quickly added, "Not yet, I mean. Not right now. I think we have a lot to do first."
He beamed a twinkling grin just for her. "You and I, Rose Tyler, have a whole lot to do together."
"But that's okay, right?" she asked, a little shyly, because of all the things in the universe, she never expected to discuss the possibility of starting a family with him. "If it's, you know, maybe someday. But not right now?"
The Doctor gently took her hand and placed a kiss to her knuckles, a sweet gesture reminiscent of their first real night together in this world.
"That's more than okay."
In all honesty, the fact she would even consider bearing his child in the future was more than he ever could have hoped for. But for now, he agreed wholeheartedly. Their immediate plans were not conducive to bringing a baby into the world.
Rose nodded intently. "Good," she decided.
Then, she felt the need to make sure he understood something. Propping up on her elbows, she regarded him at eye level, a mock serious expression fading into a graceful smile.
"I love you," she whispered smoothly.
"Rose," he murmured, awed as always by her sincerity. "I love you."
She smiled wider and planted a chaste peck on his unguarded lips.
"Good," she repeated resolutely. "Just making sure you knew."
Satisfied in all ways, she settled back down beside him. He was silent for a while, though she swore she could hear him thinking. In the peace of his arms, she was just starting to drift off when he finally spoke.
"We'll be back in London tomorrow," he murmured distantly, watching his thumb rub circles on the back of her hand. "And we'll have to make a deal with Pete to get what we need to grow the new TARDIS."
"Torchwood really is different now," she assured him. "It's better."
He raised her chin to see her face and met her heavy-lidded eyes openly. "I trust you."
Hearing those words from him was almost better than the sum of all their previous activities that night.
Almost.