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milieva_ficsTitle: An Adventure in Self Discovery
Characters: Ten/Rose
Rating: Adult
Series: Absolution and Reconciliation
Summary The Doctor takes some time to explore his new body.
A/N: This story takes place shortly after my fic, Absolution, which means this is a human version of Ten, but not exactly Ten II, because of the switch, if that makes sense.
Also, I did post this under a lock earlier this month, waiting until I edited it and finished Absolution before sharing it. Even though I am sure it was obvious that the Doctor was going to move in with Rose.
It started with the catalogue.
He’d been over at Rose’s flat since they’d left the mansion. Outside of nearly all his possessions still residing in a different borough, he had practically moved in with her.
At least he had no plans of sleeping anywhere else anytime soon.
The plan for the day had been to watch some television and perhaps fix her toaster without setting the place on fire. He thought about working on his book, but hadn’t felt the urge just yet, and he didn’t feel like forcing it.
The plot would come in time.
The first thing he decided to do, however, was eat something.
Coming out of the kitchen with a small tub of yoghurt and a spoon, he was planning to settle in on the sofa for a bit when the post on the coffee table caught his eye.
Really, it wasn’t exactly the post itself, because he definitely didn’t care one bit about the bills.
It was the glossy cover of the clothing catalogue that drew him in.
Or rather it was the girl on the cover.
Slowly setting the yoghurt down on the table, he swept the bills aside and snatched up the catalogue. A gorgeous, busty brunette smiled up at him from the front of it. She looked at him as if she were terribly pleased to see him.
“Well hello,” he said to the girl on the catalogue, not entirely sure why he spoke to her, but he honestly didn’t care.
Something about her reeled him in.
His eyes skated over her soft voluptuous curves, estimating what he precise measurements would be.
Trembling hands and a watering mouth were not the strangest of reactions he found himself having to the image.
Another part of his anatomy was announcing itself quite loudly. If it had a voice, it would likely have been directing the actions that quickly followed. Even without words, it had a way of telling him exactly what he should do.
Yoghurt completely forgotten, he opened the inviting cover and peeked inside.
There was a time he would have simply been amused and found the poses and clothing mildly alluring but would have still retained a feeling of indifference. Time Lords weren’t aroused merely by sight. Emotional connection played a key role in the mating rituals of his people.
Unfortunately the human male was more easily excited.
The Doctor pressed his palm firmly against the front of his trousers to push the infernal thing back down where it belonged.
That didn’t help his problem.
If anything, the friction made it worse.
“That’s not good, “ he complained.
Deciding it might be best to put the magazine down, as his body apparently couldn’t tell the difference between attractive-female-in-the-room and attractive-female-on-the-page, he dropped it and picked his yoghurt back up before turning on the television.
Skipping through the channels he found himself unable to concentrate on anything. His thoughts kept going back to the catalogue.
“Damn,” he groused before licking his spoon and setting it and the empty tub back on the table.
Chewing on his lip, he considered the little paper booklet with mild contempt. It was calling to him with its glossy photos of curvy women, urging him to pick it back up and find out where things might lead.
It only took a few more minutes before he gave in to the desire.
Page after page, the women smiled up at him. Their gentle curves looked soft and pliable and oh so touchable.
After a short while he found himself caring less about the smiles and more about the slope of the breasts and backsides.
The heel of his hand dug into the crotch of his trousers, rubbing hard against the throbbing appendage, but it only made the aching worse.
Cursing loudly, he tossed the magazine aside again and sank back into the cushions, wondering what he was doing, but his hand hadn’t strayed far from the strain it had caused. His fingers continued to stroke the bulging fabric as he tried to shake the images of those breasts from his head.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he was startled to the point of near terror when Rose’s cat decided it was the perfect time to join him on the sofa.
The Doctor nearly leapt out of his skin when the feline purred loudly and rubbed up against him.
“Bingley,” he hissed. “Don’t do that.”
Of course the cat didn’t care one wit that he had unnerved him. He simply made himself comfortable against the side of the Doctor’s leg and shut his eyes, still purring all the while.
With a resigned sigh, the Doctor dropped his hand heavy down at his side.
Whatever he thought he might do to alleviate the tension mounting in his body, didn’t seem like a viable option with Rose’s pet cat so close to the parts that begged for his attention.
There was a moment of bravery when he decided he’d give it a go anyway, but the zip had barely moved when he lost the nerve.
Doing it in front of the cat, just felt wrong somehow.
A thought he would have teased Rose about at another point in his life. He wondered if it wasn’t culture that ingrained that sense of modesty, but some other, more primal instinct.
Rather than dwell on that theory, he shook the cat off his lap and stood up.
He had two options: he could lock the cat in the bedroom, or he could lock himself in there. The latter seemed to be the better plan.
Glancing to Rose’s room and then back at the coffee table and the source of all his present woes, he decided he ought to take the catalogue with him, just in case.
Walking into Rose’s bedroom he firmly shut the door, making dead sure the damn cat stayed on the other side and wouldn’t appear on the mattress beside him at an inconvenient time. His second move was to remove the tie from around his neck and drop it casually on the ground.
It seemed silly to wear a tie while he did it.
He rolled up his sleeve--better to be safe than sorry—and took off his shoes.
For a brief moment, he debated on just stripping the whole kit off, but he decided that was a bad idea on a number of counts.
First: It would be easier to explain things if he still had some clothes on.
He could say he was just taking a nap, or something equally mundane. Not to mention, there would be no explaining away Rose finding him stark naked in her bed while she was away.
Second: He really wanted to be touched. The anticipation was killing him.
The zip echoed through the room like thunder. Part of him was terrified Rose would come home and find him; the other part hoped she would.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he slipped his trousers down off his hips, and let them drop unceremoniously to his ankles.
His new constant companion bobbed happily in greeting.
Every residual part of his Time Lord dignity was completely offended that such a little thing could have so much control over his will power. Life had been so much easier when he hadn’t constantly had sex on the brain.
With some trepidation, he grasped hold of the insolent appendage and gasped in surprise at the sudden rush of sensation.
He’d forgotten just how sensitive the damn thing was.
A few strokes up and down the length had his hips rocking to meet his hand. The feeling was amazing. The friction of his palm was just what he needed.
Why hadn’t Time Lords evolved to do this?
While one hand was cheerfully rubbing with vigor, the other had begun to wander beneath the fabric of his shirt, stroking and massaging the muscles of his abdomen.
With a heavy sigh, he let himself fall backward onto the mattress, his pelvis still eagerly pumping in a rhythm with his palm. His breathing picked up and his heart began to beat faster.
Rub. Stroke. Push. Pull.
Shutting his eyes he breathed in deeply, taking in the warm scents of the room, of the bed.
The duvet smelled of Rose’s perfume and of their previous night together. Lying in the middle of it he could almost see her face smiling down at him. The vision was so clear in his mind that for the briefest of moments it was her hands petting him.
“Rose,” he breathed.
Her name sent a lightning bolt of heated pleasure through his body. Her face, her hands, her breasts, every beautiful thing that was Rose Tyler replaced the nameless bodies that had started this adventure.
He’d rather think about her anyway.
Finding it difficult to catch his breath the Doctor rubbed even harder. Involuntarily his hips thrust toward his palm.
For the briefest of moments, what sentient part of his brain that was succeeding in functioning at a semi-conscious level wondered if Rose would ever be willing to do this sort of thing to him herself. She’d definitely been willing to touch him, but had never given it her full attention yet.
He moistened his lips in anticipation.
Stroke. Massage. Knead. Thrust.
There were definitely some things about being human he figured he’d be willing to live with.
This one might even be considered a perk.
His pulse thundered in his ears and heart felt like it might fly out of his chest.
Muscles he didn’t even realize he had tightened as a fresh wave of endorphins permeated his bloodstream, leaving him with a pleasant buzz.
Low throbbing pulses pushed through his lower extremities as he—to his sudden dismay—found his hand being saturated with a warm viscous fluid.
“Fuck,” he muttered, dropping the soiled hand onto his bared thigh.
He liked the feeling of that word on his lips. The hiss of the air between his lips and his teeth, the rush of air in his throat, and the stop in the soft pallet of his mouth, felt so nice he thought he’d say it again.
“Fuck.”
The louder he said it, the better it felt.
Sighing deeply, he sank deeper into the mattress, his hips still twitching and his heart still beating quickly.
As his brain decided it was going to function for more than mentally urging on his ministrations of his genitals, the Doctor was struck with two thoughts.
One: That was definitely better than he thought it would be.
Two: He wouldn’t mind doing it again.
A third thought about needing to clean himself up followed shortly after, but his body wasn’t willing to respond to it just yet. He was too busy enjoying the lingering tingle of his orgasm.
“Okay, maybe I can like it,” he admitted to the air, not sure if he would repeat that observation to Rose when she returned from work.
As if the mere thought of her name was a cue, the Doctor heard keys in the lock and the flat door open.
Flying upright, he did a quick perimeter check of the room, searching for something, anything to wipe himself off on. By some act of absolute luck, a t-shirt of his was still laying in a heap against the wall nearest his side of the bed.
His first attempt to grab it nearly ended in disaster. He’d forgotten his trousers round his ankles and attempted to take a very large step forward that ended in little horizontal motion.
The only movement in those first few seconds was him doing his best not to fall on his face.
“Doctor?” Rose called from the other room.
He heard her keys drop on the little entry table then her handbag after that.
Her next stop would be the coffee table for the post he’d brought up, then back to the bedroom where he was hastily trying to fasten his trousers and tuck in his shirt, neither of which was willing to cooperate.
The clicking of her footsteps stopped for a few moments before it approached the doorway.
When the knob turned, the Doctor froze like a rabbit caught in the headlamps.
He wanted so desperately to run, but there was nowhere to go.
He was trapped.
Standing barefoot in the middle of Rose’s floor with his shirttail caught in his zip, he knew there was no story for his appearance that Rose would believe outside of the truth. And the truth embarrassed him.
“Oh, there you are,” Rose said calmly as she walked in. “What have you—“
Her words cut off as she took in his disheveled state, and he watched in abject horror as she caught sight of the catalogue lying on the mattress.
“I…er…” he stammered, but the words of his multiple explanations failed him.
She knew exactly what he’d been up to. It was evident on her face. A hot flush crept into the Doctor’s cheeks as he realized he’d been caught.
Claiming he’d taken a nap, or any of the other excuses he’d thought up for this moment, wasn’t possible. There was no talking himself out of the corner he’d painted himself into.
Much to his surprise, Rose merely smirked at him and continued to walk toward her wardrobe.
“If you got anything on the duvet, you had better wash it,” she told him, pulling comfortable clothes out of her wardrobe.
“I didn’t,” he said, but still gave the white fabric a good look to be sure.
Snatching his soiled shirt off the bed, he motioned vaguely to the door, stumbling for words as he tried to relay that he was going to put it in the wash.
He glanced back at Rose as he walked out and toward the kitchen. She must have had an uneventful day at work because she wasn’t heading toward the shower as she unbuttoned her blouse.
Perhaps he lingered in the doorway a short moment longer than necessary to watch her slip the garment off her shoulders, but he made sure he was out of sight before she turned around.
The shirt went straight into the washing machine.
Shutting the little door, the Doctor decided it would be best if he forgot then days events all together. It would save him a great deal of embarrassment if he just pretended it never happened, so he washed his hands, put the kettle on, and set about making them some tea.
“Why are you being so weird?” Rose asked from the doorway.
She’d changed into a t-shirt and a pair of mottled green shorts. If he had had any plans to go out that night, it obviously wasn’t happening. Rose was staying in.
Instead of answering her question, because he didn’t know what to say, the Doctor glanced at the cupboards by the cooker and then down at the fridge, trying to remember what he had to work with to make them something to eat.
“Doctor,” she said, firmly with a tone of aggravation, but he could hear the hint of amusement. “Are you embarrassed that I caught you masturbating?”
Suddenly the contents of the refrigerator became the sole focus of his attention. They had three eggs, half a pint of milk, left over lasagna, and a basket of strawberries.
“Doctor,” Rose said again, this time with more force.
He wasn’t going to be able to dodge the questions. How unfortunate.
“You didn’t catch me,” he argued, pointlessly.
“Fine be technical if you want,” she conceded. “I came home while you were masturbating and you were trying to hide the evidence. Is that closer to the truth?”
He peered over the door of the fridge at her.
She grinned back at him, looking ridiculously smug with her I-can-read-you-like-a-book expression.
He knitted his eyebrows together and tried to glower at her, but Rose’s smile only broadened until she looked like she was about to burst with laughter.
She couldn’t help but giggle when she finally asked, “What happened to your ’It’s perfectly natural’ speech?”
“It was my first time, Rose,” the Doctor said finally, running his hand through his hair. “Does it have to be so important?”
“You’re the one who’s making it a big deal,” Rose countered. “I could care less if that’s what you get up to when you’re alone, but is that all you did today? Or did actually you go ‘round your place and pack more of your things, like you said you were going to do?”
“I didn’t go over there, but I did go downstairs for the post. I also did some of the wash.”
Telling her he did the washing always seemed to make her grin, more in amusement than anything else as he always complained about her washing her clothes at her mothers, but he liked that so simple a task would please her.
Her smile wasn’t directed on him long, for Rose pulled open a drawer and started to gather two sets of cutlery
“I brought Indian take-away,” she explained “I hope you don’t mind. I’ve had a bit of a craving. Been wanting it since I smelt Liz’s this afternoon,” Rose told him before she disappeared back into the lounge.
Shutting the fridge door and standing back up, the Doctor followed her toward the sofa.
She could care less, she’d said.
What was it he had told her, when they had discussed that sort of thing in the old days?
“It’s only as embarrassing as you make it, and there is really no point being mortified.”
It would be best to live by his own advice.
Rose was sitting with her feet up on the sofa cushions, leaving enough space for him to sit down beside her. She wasn’t acting any differently than she normally did, aside from the ornery smirk on her face.
“So, what are we going to watch,” he asked, going along with their new evening ritual.
“A new action show,” Rose told him, slipping her feet into his lap as she stretched out, take away container and fork in her hands. “Looks promising.”
He hummed in acknowledgement and opened the second container, propping his feet up on the coffee table.
She chewed thoughtfully for a moment before asking, “Did you enjoy it?”
Her eyes glittered in mirth when he looked at her in surprise. He thought they’d agreed to drop that topic.
The corner of his mouth turned up at the adoring smile on her face.
“Yes, I did.”
“Good. That’s what matters.” Rose told him, grinning with that tongue between her teeth and looking both endearing and oh so kissable.
Setting his food back down, the Doctor took the remote control out of Rose’s hand and set the satellite box to record her new show before placing the controller on the table beside the take-away.
Rose laughed at him when he took her container out of her hand and set it aside as well.
“You know I did want to eat that hot,” she told him, not really seeming to care.
“That’s what the microwave is for.”
He crossed the distance between them and cut off any witty retort she might have with a kiss that Rose ardently returned.
He’d wanted to do that all day, and now that he had her, he knew what he wanted to do with her.
Her new television programme could wait until tomorrow.
Characters: Ten/Rose
Rating: Adult
Series: Absolution and Reconciliation
Summary The Doctor takes some time to explore his new body.
A/N: This story takes place shortly after my fic, Absolution, which means this is a human version of Ten, but not exactly Ten II, because of the switch, if that makes sense.
Also, I did post this under a lock earlier this month, waiting until I edited it and finished Absolution before sharing it. Even though I am sure it was obvious that the Doctor was going to move in with Rose.
It started with the catalogue.
He’d been over at Rose’s flat since they’d left the mansion. Outside of nearly all his possessions still residing in a different borough, he had practically moved in with her.
At least he had no plans of sleeping anywhere else anytime soon.
The plan for the day had been to watch some television and perhaps fix her toaster without setting the place on fire. He thought about working on his book, but hadn’t felt the urge just yet, and he didn’t feel like forcing it.
The plot would come in time.
The first thing he decided to do, however, was eat something.
Coming out of the kitchen with a small tub of yoghurt and a spoon, he was planning to settle in on the sofa for a bit when the post on the coffee table caught his eye.
Really, it wasn’t exactly the post itself, because he definitely didn’t care one bit about the bills.
It was the glossy cover of the clothing catalogue that drew him in.
Or rather it was the girl on the cover.
Slowly setting the yoghurt down on the table, he swept the bills aside and snatched up the catalogue. A gorgeous, busty brunette smiled up at him from the front of it. She looked at him as if she were terribly pleased to see him.
“Well hello,” he said to the girl on the catalogue, not entirely sure why he spoke to her, but he honestly didn’t care.
Something about her reeled him in.
His eyes skated over her soft voluptuous curves, estimating what he precise measurements would be.
Trembling hands and a watering mouth were not the strangest of reactions he found himself having to the image.
Another part of his anatomy was announcing itself quite loudly. If it had a voice, it would likely have been directing the actions that quickly followed. Even without words, it had a way of telling him exactly what he should do.
Yoghurt completely forgotten, he opened the inviting cover and peeked inside.
There was a time he would have simply been amused and found the poses and clothing mildly alluring but would have still retained a feeling of indifference. Time Lords weren’t aroused merely by sight. Emotional connection played a key role in the mating rituals of his people.
Unfortunately the human male was more easily excited.
The Doctor pressed his palm firmly against the front of his trousers to push the infernal thing back down where it belonged.
That didn’t help his problem.
If anything, the friction made it worse.
“That’s not good, “ he complained.
Deciding it might be best to put the magazine down, as his body apparently couldn’t tell the difference between attractive-female-in-the-room and attractive-female-on-the-page, he dropped it and picked his yoghurt back up before turning on the television.
Skipping through the channels he found himself unable to concentrate on anything. His thoughts kept going back to the catalogue.
“Damn,” he groused before licking his spoon and setting it and the empty tub back on the table.
Chewing on his lip, he considered the little paper booklet with mild contempt. It was calling to him with its glossy photos of curvy women, urging him to pick it back up and find out where things might lead.
It only took a few more minutes before he gave in to the desire.
Page after page, the women smiled up at him. Their gentle curves looked soft and pliable and oh so touchable.
After a short while he found himself caring less about the smiles and more about the slope of the breasts and backsides.
The heel of his hand dug into the crotch of his trousers, rubbing hard against the throbbing appendage, but it only made the aching worse.
Cursing loudly, he tossed the magazine aside again and sank back into the cushions, wondering what he was doing, but his hand hadn’t strayed far from the strain it had caused. His fingers continued to stroke the bulging fabric as he tried to shake the images of those breasts from his head.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he was startled to the point of near terror when Rose’s cat decided it was the perfect time to join him on the sofa.
The Doctor nearly leapt out of his skin when the feline purred loudly and rubbed up against him.
“Bingley,” he hissed. “Don’t do that.”
Of course the cat didn’t care one wit that he had unnerved him. He simply made himself comfortable against the side of the Doctor’s leg and shut his eyes, still purring all the while.
With a resigned sigh, the Doctor dropped his hand heavy down at his side.
Whatever he thought he might do to alleviate the tension mounting in his body, didn’t seem like a viable option with Rose’s pet cat so close to the parts that begged for his attention.
There was a moment of bravery when he decided he’d give it a go anyway, but the zip had barely moved when he lost the nerve.
Doing it in front of the cat, just felt wrong somehow.
A thought he would have teased Rose about at another point in his life. He wondered if it wasn’t culture that ingrained that sense of modesty, but some other, more primal instinct.
Rather than dwell on that theory, he shook the cat off his lap and stood up.
He had two options: he could lock the cat in the bedroom, or he could lock himself in there. The latter seemed to be the better plan.
Glancing to Rose’s room and then back at the coffee table and the source of all his present woes, he decided he ought to take the catalogue with him, just in case.
Walking into Rose’s bedroom he firmly shut the door, making dead sure the damn cat stayed on the other side and wouldn’t appear on the mattress beside him at an inconvenient time. His second move was to remove the tie from around his neck and drop it casually on the ground.
It seemed silly to wear a tie while he did it.
He rolled up his sleeve--better to be safe than sorry—and took off his shoes.
For a brief moment, he debated on just stripping the whole kit off, but he decided that was a bad idea on a number of counts.
First: It would be easier to explain things if he still had some clothes on.
He could say he was just taking a nap, or something equally mundane. Not to mention, there would be no explaining away Rose finding him stark naked in her bed while she was away.
Second: He really wanted to be touched. The anticipation was killing him.
The zip echoed through the room like thunder. Part of him was terrified Rose would come home and find him; the other part hoped she would.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he slipped his trousers down off his hips, and let them drop unceremoniously to his ankles.
His new constant companion bobbed happily in greeting.
Every residual part of his Time Lord dignity was completely offended that such a little thing could have so much control over his will power. Life had been so much easier when he hadn’t constantly had sex on the brain.
With some trepidation, he grasped hold of the insolent appendage and gasped in surprise at the sudden rush of sensation.
He’d forgotten just how sensitive the damn thing was.
A few strokes up and down the length had his hips rocking to meet his hand. The feeling was amazing. The friction of his palm was just what he needed.
Why hadn’t Time Lords evolved to do this?
While one hand was cheerfully rubbing with vigor, the other had begun to wander beneath the fabric of his shirt, stroking and massaging the muscles of his abdomen.
With a heavy sigh, he let himself fall backward onto the mattress, his pelvis still eagerly pumping in a rhythm with his palm. His breathing picked up and his heart began to beat faster.
Rub. Stroke. Push. Pull.
Shutting his eyes he breathed in deeply, taking in the warm scents of the room, of the bed.
The duvet smelled of Rose’s perfume and of their previous night together. Lying in the middle of it he could almost see her face smiling down at him. The vision was so clear in his mind that for the briefest of moments it was her hands petting him.
“Rose,” he breathed.
Her name sent a lightning bolt of heated pleasure through his body. Her face, her hands, her breasts, every beautiful thing that was Rose Tyler replaced the nameless bodies that had started this adventure.
He’d rather think about her anyway.
Finding it difficult to catch his breath the Doctor rubbed even harder. Involuntarily his hips thrust toward his palm.
For the briefest of moments, what sentient part of his brain that was succeeding in functioning at a semi-conscious level wondered if Rose would ever be willing to do this sort of thing to him herself. She’d definitely been willing to touch him, but had never given it her full attention yet.
He moistened his lips in anticipation.
Stroke. Massage. Knead. Thrust.
There were definitely some things about being human he figured he’d be willing to live with.
This one might even be considered a perk.
His pulse thundered in his ears and heart felt like it might fly out of his chest.
Muscles he didn’t even realize he had tightened as a fresh wave of endorphins permeated his bloodstream, leaving him with a pleasant buzz.
Low throbbing pulses pushed through his lower extremities as he—to his sudden dismay—found his hand being saturated with a warm viscous fluid.
“Fuck,” he muttered, dropping the soiled hand onto his bared thigh.
He liked the feeling of that word on his lips. The hiss of the air between his lips and his teeth, the rush of air in his throat, and the stop in the soft pallet of his mouth, felt so nice he thought he’d say it again.
“Fuck.”
The louder he said it, the better it felt.
Sighing deeply, he sank deeper into the mattress, his hips still twitching and his heart still beating quickly.
As his brain decided it was going to function for more than mentally urging on his ministrations of his genitals, the Doctor was struck with two thoughts.
One: That was definitely better than he thought it would be.
Two: He wouldn’t mind doing it again.
A third thought about needing to clean himself up followed shortly after, but his body wasn’t willing to respond to it just yet. He was too busy enjoying the lingering tingle of his orgasm.
“Okay, maybe I can like it,” he admitted to the air, not sure if he would repeat that observation to Rose when she returned from work.
As if the mere thought of her name was a cue, the Doctor heard keys in the lock and the flat door open.
Flying upright, he did a quick perimeter check of the room, searching for something, anything to wipe himself off on. By some act of absolute luck, a t-shirt of his was still laying in a heap against the wall nearest his side of the bed.
His first attempt to grab it nearly ended in disaster. He’d forgotten his trousers round his ankles and attempted to take a very large step forward that ended in little horizontal motion.
The only movement in those first few seconds was him doing his best not to fall on his face.
“Doctor?” Rose called from the other room.
He heard her keys drop on the little entry table then her handbag after that.
Her next stop would be the coffee table for the post he’d brought up, then back to the bedroom where he was hastily trying to fasten his trousers and tuck in his shirt, neither of which was willing to cooperate.
The clicking of her footsteps stopped for a few moments before it approached the doorway.
When the knob turned, the Doctor froze like a rabbit caught in the headlamps.
He wanted so desperately to run, but there was nowhere to go.
He was trapped.
Standing barefoot in the middle of Rose’s floor with his shirttail caught in his zip, he knew there was no story for his appearance that Rose would believe outside of the truth. And the truth embarrassed him.
“Oh, there you are,” Rose said calmly as she walked in. “What have you—“
Her words cut off as she took in his disheveled state, and he watched in abject horror as she caught sight of the catalogue lying on the mattress.
“I…er…” he stammered, but the words of his multiple explanations failed him.
She knew exactly what he’d been up to. It was evident on her face. A hot flush crept into the Doctor’s cheeks as he realized he’d been caught.
Claiming he’d taken a nap, or any of the other excuses he’d thought up for this moment, wasn’t possible. There was no talking himself out of the corner he’d painted himself into.
Much to his surprise, Rose merely smirked at him and continued to walk toward her wardrobe.
“If you got anything on the duvet, you had better wash it,” she told him, pulling comfortable clothes out of her wardrobe.
“I didn’t,” he said, but still gave the white fabric a good look to be sure.
Snatching his soiled shirt off the bed, he motioned vaguely to the door, stumbling for words as he tried to relay that he was going to put it in the wash.
He glanced back at Rose as he walked out and toward the kitchen. She must have had an uneventful day at work because she wasn’t heading toward the shower as she unbuttoned her blouse.
Perhaps he lingered in the doorway a short moment longer than necessary to watch her slip the garment off her shoulders, but he made sure he was out of sight before she turned around.
The shirt went straight into the washing machine.
Shutting the little door, the Doctor decided it would be best if he forgot then days events all together. It would save him a great deal of embarrassment if he just pretended it never happened, so he washed his hands, put the kettle on, and set about making them some tea.
“Why are you being so weird?” Rose asked from the doorway.
She’d changed into a t-shirt and a pair of mottled green shorts. If he had had any plans to go out that night, it obviously wasn’t happening. Rose was staying in.
Instead of answering her question, because he didn’t know what to say, the Doctor glanced at the cupboards by the cooker and then down at the fridge, trying to remember what he had to work with to make them something to eat.
“Doctor,” she said, firmly with a tone of aggravation, but he could hear the hint of amusement. “Are you embarrassed that I caught you masturbating?”
Suddenly the contents of the refrigerator became the sole focus of his attention. They had three eggs, half a pint of milk, left over lasagna, and a basket of strawberries.
“Doctor,” Rose said again, this time with more force.
He wasn’t going to be able to dodge the questions. How unfortunate.
“You didn’t catch me,” he argued, pointlessly.
“Fine be technical if you want,” she conceded. “I came home while you were masturbating and you were trying to hide the evidence. Is that closer to the truth?”
He peered over the door of the fridge at her.
She grinned back at him, looking ridiculously smug with her I-can-read-you-like-a-book expression.
He knitted his eyebrows together and tried to glower at her, but Rose’s smile only broadened until she looked like she was about to burst with laughter.
She couldn’t help but giggle when she finally asked, “What happened to your ’It’s perfectly natural’ speech?”
“It was my first time, Rose,” the Doctor said finally, running his hand through his hair. “Does it have to be so important?”
“You’re the one who’s making it a big deal,” Rose countered. “I could care less if that’s what you get up to when you’re alone, but is that all you did today? Or did actually you go ‘round your place and pack more of your things, like you said you were going to do?”
“I didn’t go over there, but I did go downstairs for the post. I also did some of the wash.”
Telling her he did the washing always seemed to make her grin, more in amusement than anything else as he always complained about her washing her clothes at her mothers, but he liked that so simple a task would please her.
Her smile wasn’t directed on him long, for Rose pulled open a drawer and started to gather two sets of cutlery
“I brought Indian take-away,” she explained “I hope you don’t mind. I’ve had a bit of a craving. Been wanting it since I smelt Liz’s this afternoon,” Rose told him before she disappeared back into the lounge.
Shutting the fridge door and standing back up, the Doctor followed her toward the sofa.
She could care less, she’d said.
What was it he had told her, when they had discussed that sort of thing in the old days?
“It’s only as embarrassing as you make it, and there is really no point being mortified.”
It would be best to live by his own advice.
Rose was sitting with her feet up on the sofa cushions, leaving enough space for him to sit down beside her. She wasn’t acting any differently than she normally did, aside from the ornery smirk on her face.
“So, what are we going to watch,” he asked, going along with their new evening ritual.
“A new action show,” Rose told him, slipping her feet into his lap as she stretched out, take away container and fork in her hands. “Looks promising.”
He hummed in acknowledgement and opened the second container, propping his feet up on the coffee table.
She chewed thoughtfully for a moment before asking, “Did you enjoy it?”
Her eyes glittered in mirth when he looked at her in surprise. He thought they’d agreed to drop that topic.
The corner of his mouth turned up at the adoring smile on her face.
“Yes, I did.”
“Good. That’s what matters.” Rose told him, grinning with that tongue between her teeth and looking both endearing and oh so kissable.
Setting his food back down, the Doctor took the remote control out of Rose’s hand and set the satellite box to record her new show before placing the controller on the table beside the take-away.
Rose laughed at him when he took her container out of her hand and set it aside as well.
“You know I did want to eat that hot,” she told him, not really seeming to care.
“That’s what the microwave is for.”
He crossed the distance between them and cut off any witty retort she might have with a kiss that Rose ardently returned.
He’d wanted to do that all day, and now that he had her, he knew what he wanted to do with her.
Her new television programme could wait until tomorrow.
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Date: 2010-06-21 04:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-25 02:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-22 01:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-25 02:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-01 11:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-03 09:32 pm (UTC)Thank you. That means this fic has done exactly what it was intended to do. Crack smut is always fun. Mind you there is more humour like this to come in this verse.
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Date: 2010-07-03 05:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-03 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-03 07:29 pm (UTC)::snicker:: The Doctor flailing to put himself together, tripping over his own trousers was even funnier.
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Date: 2010-07-03 09:30 pm (UTC)And that cat has spawned some amusing fic. It is a silly thing.
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Date: 2010-07-03 10:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-03 10:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-03 11:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-04 05:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-05 01:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-07 05:18 pm (UTC)"When the knob turned, the Doctor froze like a rabbit caught in the headlamps."
I cracked up laughing at that line...I see every detail of that.
LOVED IT! Keep it up!
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Date: 2010-07-10 03:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-19 08:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-19 01:53 pm (UTC)But I am so glad you enjoyed it. I had fun writing it. At least I did after I realized it could be more fun if I had it be my human!Ten from Absolution, rather than my version of TenII as it was originally started (that would have made it rather pathetic, actually)
Absolution made you cry? I suppose that means I did my angst well. It will still be a little while until I get the sequel in full swing. I am currently working on a few little projects for the ficathon I am hosting at
You are welcome to friend me. And also join my writing community (i.e. fic journal). I post random crap under a lock from time to time for those who join it to watch it. This fic being one of them. It was posted in its unedited glory, as were bits of the chapters of Absolution as I was working on them.
I should be getting back to the sequel in another month. I nearly have the first part finished. I also have plans to work on a little story from TenII's POV about the switch that took place at the beginning of Absolution.
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Date: 2010-08-19 05:22 pm (UTC)Yes, but it is hard to know exactly what to call him, isn't it? Although technically the first fic in the series that I read was "An adventure in self discovery," so I didn't know about the whole switch until I started the series. That was a shocker, but a very unique twist!
I realized it could be more fun if I had it be my human!Ten from Absolution, rather than my version of TenII as it was originally started (that would have made it rather pathetic, actually)
I agree, I wouldn't want to follow around your original version of TenII, he certainly did sound like a prat.
And my TenII fics that I am planning to write for this series, are not going to be very happy.
I had a feeling it was not going to be a "happily ever after" ending. But there is something inherent in their relationship that makes this not a choice. I LOVE angst and tragedy--bring it on!
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Date: 2010-08-19 06:18 pm (UTC)Well, that depends. You say you love angst and tragedy. Let's just say that TenII's life in Pete's world was no holiday. He was miserable nearly from day one. No, scratch that. He lost hope after he messed up his calculations and it would take two decades before his TARDIS was mature. The stories Rose relates in Absolution are the more lighthearted ones.
He was constantly depressed, had a drinking problem, and was constantly making very poor life choices. That and he just hated living a domestic life. I plan to explore his side of the switch soon. But something to better explain what I mean about him would be a little thing I wrote about him, Easier at Night.
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Date: 2010-09-05 11:00 pm (UTC)