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amberfocus) wrote2010-02-25 01:56 pm
Birthday Fic: In. Out. (1/1)
Title: In. Out.
Author: ![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
amberfocus
Characters/Pairings: Ten2/Rose Tyler
Genre: Romance, Smut, Angst
Rating: Adult for graphic sex
Betas: amyo67, jeprdyfrndly
Summary: Their connection isn’t always as strong as she’d like it to be, and sometimes he hides the most painful of his feelings from her, even in this most intimate embrace.
A/N: Written for jessalrynn for her birthday. I set out to write no more than a simple PWP, but it kind of took on a life of it's own, switched Doctors on me halfway through, and ended up kind of melancholy at the end. Still, there's smut. *shrugs* Not a work or child friendly story.
In. Out.
She knows he’s there before he even says a word. Rose has come to recognize his presence even in perfect darkness. She hadn’t realized he’d left the bed, but sometimes he does that, goes out for a jog in the middle of the night because he can’t sleep, only to return hours later. The bed shifts beside her and she hears the heavy clunk of shoes falling to the floor. A soft rustle of fabric follows as items of clothing are shed one by one. Cold air hits her back as the covers are lifted and he slips in beside her. She turns into her husband’s body as he reaches for her, fits herself to his side as if she’s always belonged there, as if she always will. His lips find hers in the dark and the kiss is soft, tender.
He’s not needy tonight, not waking from his own brief rest in terror or horror or nightmare. If he had the kiss would be possessive and demanding. It’s not. He simply kisses her like he has all the time in the world. When the kiss breaks she asks anyway. She still needs that constant reassurance. “Are you all right?”
“I am,” the Doctor says quietly. She’s not sure if he really is. His fingers drift down her naked body, stroking softly over waist and hip, then back up to settle lightly on her breast, his thumb rubbing almost absently over her nipple for a long moment. He doesn’t ask if it’s okay. She granted her permission long ago and so he simply slips his knee between her thighs and brings his hand back down. He doesn’t stand on ceremony, his fingers reaching immediately to see if there’s the slightest bit of moisture. He finds her still a little wet from their earlier lovemaking, uses it to smooth his way across her clit, stroking her in tight little circles until she’s soaking his fingers. It doesn’t take long.
Rose falls onto her back and her legs open and he’s pushing the blankets away from her body. The cold air brings her nipples to hard, sudden peaks, and he crawls over her, settling between her thighs. His tongue replaces his finger on her clit. His finger works its way inside her body. He takes his time, savors her flavor, his tongue sometimes joining his finger inside her, sometimes working just above it or just below or taking the little nubbin into his mouth in long, slow sucks that leave her arching into him.
She’s close. The Doctor takes her there so quickly. He always has. A second finger joins the first and he curves them upward, searching for the tiny little spot inside that will be her downfall. The patient sucking and licking combine with his movements and she feels a flush racing over her skin, raising her body temperature like a sudden blast from a fiery furnace. She squirms trying to meet the moment of orgasm before it’s quite ready to find her.
He leaves her on the edge, withdraws his fingers and his tongue and pulls himself up to rest above her. He presses his shaft to her opening, finding it unerringly; no fumbling about. He pushes inside her quickly, filling her completely. It only takes a few quick thrusts to finish her tumble into temporary oblivion. It’s beautiful. It always is with him. She arches and clenches and comes, her body dancing beneath his, her mind filled with his emotions as well as her own.
The Doctor waits for her to finish before giving a few short, sharp, impatient thrusts that build into a steady, hard, pounding rhythm. It’s fast as it washes over him, his body letting loose his seed within her. Usually he takes so long he brings her to orgasm a second time before he finishes. She wonders again if he’s all right, truly all right. She holds him tightly, his body remaining on top of hers. She wishes she could see his face. He shows no sign of moving.
Rose strokes him gently, her hand playing with his hair, then trailing down his back and shoulder. She tickles across the side of his ribcage and back up again. She keeps it up, the gentle, soothing movement of her fingertips across his skin. Slowly he begins to harden again inside her and this time he takes his time, using the entire length of his shaft in every stroke. It lasts for a very long time, his earlier impatience long since vanished. It feels like he’s trying to lose himself inside her, or maybe that he’s already lost and just trying to find his way back. Their connection isn’t always as strong as she’d like it to be, and sometimes he hides the most painful of his feelings from her, even in this most intimate embrace.
Her mind focuses tightly as she feels herself rising back up. She comes again, harder than the first time, electric jolts shuddering through her entire body, tensing every muscle as she shakes beneath him. Still he drives on and on, a slow, steady motion. In. Out. In. Out.
She shifts her body, trying to find a more comfortable position, her thigh muscles starting to ache. She puts out a hand to still him, grasping his shoulder. “Let me turn over?” she says quietly, the interrogative lilt in her words making it a question.
He stops, pulls out, backs away from her. Rose flips over slowly, stifling a groan at the little spasm on her inner left thigh. She had thought he wasn’t needy tonight, but this is needy in a different way than he’s ever been needy before. She has no intention of stopping this now, ache or no ache. She arranges the pillows for proper support and drops down on her forearms, offering herself to him again. “Okay.”
His hands find her smooth buttocks in the dark, caressing them gently before moving up behind her and pushing himself back inside. She sighs at the pleasure that courses through her body as his balls bang into her clit. He holds her tightly by the hips and starts his rhythm again. In. Out. In. Out. The gentle coiling in her womb tells her that another orgasm is beginning to build within her. Tighter and tighter it winds, but it doesn’t let go. He seems to keep her teetering, varying his long, slow movements just enough to hold her in check.
“Doctor, please,” she says. He still says nothing, but his pace increases. His breath begins to come in shorter, rougher pants, and she can tell he is driving for his own orgasm now. The pressure rises within her and she fights to hold back. She wants to come with him, senses it is somehow very important right now. Harder and harder he pushes into her until he’s slamming into her with very little mercy, but she does not care. She hears the telltale whimper that means he’s about to come and she lets herself go, soaring on the moment as her body contracts around him and he orgasms inside her.
Her knees collapse, legs sliding backwards on the bed and he falls on top of her, his hands breaking his fall. He lets himself lay against her back, his penis still semi-hard inside her. She doesn’t try to dislodge him, takes his weight without complaint as he presses kisses to her shoulder and the back of her neck, his breath hot, yet still raising goose bumps on her skin. Slowly he comes out of her, even more slowly he moves away from her, but not before cold wet drops spatter across her back.
He falls heavily onto the bed and she turns onto her side, her hand reaching up to wipe the tears away. “What’s happened?” she asks. She knows something has and she knows to whom. It can be no other.
“He’s gone. He’s regenerated, Rose. I can’t feel him anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” she says. She kisses him softly and he yields to it, letting her in, letting her have control, letting her help him. When they pull away enough to breathe, he rests his forehead against hers.
“Maybe now I can find peace.” She doesn’t ask him which ‘I’ he is referring to. She knows he means both of them. And she hopes it’s true. She hopes the other Doctor does finally find peace. She cuddles close to her husband and sighs. She knows now that the link has been severed that the one in her arms finally has a chance.
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