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5 Clichés That Didn't Work, and 1 That Did
Title: 5 Clichés That Didn't Work, and 1 That Did (3/6)Author: sinecure
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: Adult. Humor, romance
Summary: Rose and the Doctor trample through the clichés.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. (insert witty reason, here)
Author's Notes: Thanks to momdaegmorgan, my partner in crime and fellow smut-writer, no matter how much she doth protest.
****
Too Close For Comfort
Rose looked back over her shoulder, seeing the swaying beam of light headed her way and gripped the edge of the pipe with both hands. She didn't want to go in there. Tight spaces weren't on her list of favorite places to be. She wasn't claustrophobic per se; she just wasn't overly fond of being in confined spaces.
Add the Doctor into that mix, and it was, quite possibly, a nightmare in the making. Or a fantasy.
"Rose!" That was the Doctor, hissing at her to hurry up.
She took a deep breath and crouched down, crawling into the drainage pipe.
Naturally, not only was there not enough room to stand or sit, but they were forced to lie down. The Doctor was already inside, on his stomach. When she shimmied over him, she accidentally elbowed his back and dug a hand into his thigh. He remained still while she crawled up the length of him.
She could hardly breathe. There wasn't enough room for them to lie side by side, unless she wanted to plaster herself against the side of the pipe, and even then she'd only end up rolling over on top of him.
If she wanted to do anything but crouch uncomfortably, she'd have to lie on top of him.
The dogs--or what passed for dogs on Jupor--bayed and howled, kicking up a fuss hundreds of yards away while the men holding them yelled and called to one another, their torches splitting the hazy night air.
"Nothing like a good ole fashioned lynching," Rose grumbled. She shifted a little, but felt no more comfortable for it.
The Doctor, watching the men patrolling the fields for them, glanced at her over his shoulder before resting his chin on his hands and looking forward once more. "Lie down. You keep moving around they're going to hear you."
She shook her head. "I'm fine. Don't wanna crush you."
He scoffed loudly and caught her eye. "How weak do you think I am?"
"How heavy do you think I'm not?" she retorted.
"Please. You're light as a feather. I'm a lot stronger than I look. Time Lords--"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She was not in the mood for another of his Time-Lords-are-superior-because speeches. Her bum was cold; the cement pipe wasn't exactly insulated, and it was chilly outside.
The Doctor sighed and rolled over, scooting about to get more comfortable. Taking up the whole bloody pipe too. His eyes were on her, and she could just make out a frown in the hazy yellow light of the moon.
"What?" Maybe if she slid to the right and turned toward the-- nope. Her neck was beginning to hurt from crouching so low.
"We hold hands all the time," the Doctor stated. When she only looked over at him in confusion, he continued. "Any excuse for a hug. Survived death? Hug! Saved a life? Hug! Ate a banana? Hug!"
Rose's face was crinkled in bemusement. Yes, they hugged a lot. She'd never deny it, but was now really the time to discuss it? When her arse was freezing, her fingernails scraped and broken from the cement walls, and her neck fighting the urge to just break because it might be more comfy? "And?"
"You're afraid to touch me."
Okay, he had her there. Could he really blame her though? After what they'd been through the past few weeks? "Am not," she answered.
"Are too," he tossed back, sounding just as childish as she did.
Okay, now was apparently the time to talk about things, just not why they were so demonstrative in their affections. Nope, he'd moved on to why she wasn't anymore. "Well," she began, leaning down to look out the pipe entrance. No one was nearby, but she kept her gaze trained that way anyway. "What do you expect? Just a week ago I was... I mean, we-- there was that..." She slumped back against the pipe wall and looked down at her hands. "I dry-humped you!"
She was positive she didn't imagine the snort of laughter coming from the Doctor. However, the sudden sounds of footsteps above the pipe and movement in the surrounding long grass made him snap his mouth shut and grab her, dragging her over his body in order to clamp a hand over her mouth.
She was completely on top of him now; exactly where she didn't want to be because it was exactly where she wanted to be. She wriggled a little to the right, trying to scoot off of him, but he wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her in place.
"Hold still," he whispered into her ear, making her shudder at the feel of his warm breath tickling the hairs at her temple.
Footsteps crunched through the dead pieces of grass littering the ditch they were situated in. A dog began baying and another joined in, barking like mad.
All Rose could see were the Doctor's eyes shining in the moonlight, watching her, warning her against movement.
It was hard not to move when his hand was wrapped tightly around her, and had slipped under her short t-shirt. Goosebumps spread on her skin as his fingers moved ever so softly against her side.
She shivered at the sensation.
A heavy weight settled into her stomach, and her knees went a little weak. Good thing she was lying down already, that could've been embarrassing. One of her legs dropped to the side, and the other rested between his. She swallowed hard, keeping her eyes on the opening of the pipe. Torchlight pierced the night in shimmering beams of blue, heading away from their position.
Thank god. She'd be able to move soon.
She tried to lick her lips, but the Doctor's hand was still on her mouth. His whole body shuddered lightly when her tongue touched him and she jerked her eyes back to his face.
His dark eyes were watching her. Their gazes held for a few seconds before he licked own lips and leaned up and whispered once more, "Didn't exactly see me beating you off with a stick."
"Well, no," she agreed, "but it's not like you had a lot of choice."
He raised an eyebrow further into the shadowed expanse of his forehead as if to say, well there ya go. "Neither did you."
She opened her mouth to tell him that she'd never had a choice when it came to him. That she'd always wanted him. Big ears and manic grin or sideburns and manic grin. It didn't matter to her; she wanted him.
But she couldn't say all that, so instead she nodded and remained silent.
There were a couple of nearby shouts, and the Doctor tightened his grip on her waist, shifting lightly beneath her. She was half on him now, her left leg still between his. When he shifted, she grabbed handfuls of his coat, holding on.
He let go of her mouth completely, but held a finger to his lips.
The men with the dogs--the hunting party, sent to track down her and the Doctor--moved off to the treed in area. Distant shouts and barks broke through the occasional silences left in their wake. Torchlight weaved in and out of the trees, broken beams splitting the night.
Rose shivered again as silence fell, but the Doctor remained where he was.
She released his coat and pressed her palms to either side of his head to push herself up, but froze when his arm tightened on her waist again.
"What--" she began, not sure what she'd been about to ask. What are you doing? What took you so long to touch me like this? What time is it?
Didn't matter, because the arm that wasn't around her waist settled on her upper back and drew her down on top of him again. "You didn't see me stopping you," he whispered against her lips, so close that his warm breath mingled with hers, "because I didn't want to."
So close to his lips, so close to the taste that she wanted to sample again, Rose was reduced to saying, "Oh." But then the fog cleared for a second and she blinked at him. A smile threatened to curve up her lips. "So you enjoyed the dry-humping?"
He chuckled and threaded his hands through her hair. "Mmm." His mouth pressed lightly against hers. "I don't think I've ever been dry-humped better."
She laughed and settled her forehead against his. "I've been told I have skills."
His breath and lips ghosted over her skin, making her shiver. "Care to exhibit these skills?" The corner of his mouth curved upward, his eyes dancing at her in the dim moonlight. "For demonstration purposes only, of course."
"Of course," she agreed in mock seriousness. Her eyes dropped to his lips, wanting to touch, to taste, to feel them against her own. Lowering her head, she settled her mouth over his, feeling him sigh into her parted lips. She traced his bottom lip with her tongue and felt his tongue against her own. He took control of the kiss almost immediately, pressing between her lips and stroking the roof of her mouth.
His hand cradled the back of her head, holding her still as his tongue continued to move desperately against hers, his mouth closing on hers again and again. Heat swept through her, turning her blood to molasses and making her heart flutter against her chest. The fingers of her right hand fisted in his coat while her left hand moved to his head, threading through his hair.
A sigh escaped her as her fingers ran through the strands. She loved his hair. Loved the way he--
Suddenly, the Doctor pulled away, gasping for air. "Did you feel the earth move?"
Rose blinked at him. Already? she thought. Well, maybe sex for Time Lords was different. Maybe things moved a lot quicker for them. But, looking at him, she decided that wasn't the case; he still looked aroused and heated, not like a man who'd just been satisfied by an earth-shattering orgasm. She shook her head and opened her mouth to reply when she felt something. "I'm getting wet."
"Oh?" the Doctor muttered in surprise. "Already?" He grinned and rolled them over until he was on top. "And straight into the dirty talk."
Rose looked at him for a second without a clue as to what he was talking about, and then it hit her. She couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped. "No," she giggled, "I meant I was really getting wet." When he simply raised his eyebrows at her for clarification, she snickered and dropped her head back. "My leg is wet. Water's coming in from somewhere."
His eyes opened wide in understanding and then went even wider. "Oh." He scrambled off of her as best he could in the confined space. "Time to go!"
She sat up, bracing herself with her hands behind her, trying not to demand that he climb right back on top of her again. Trying not to miss the feel of him wrapped around and over her. "What? Why?"
The Doctor didn't get a chance to answer. The pipe shook and vibrated enough to knock bits of dried grass and tiny pebbles around. The dirt beneath her hands was moving side to side. Her eyes widened and she scrambled to her knees.
"Quickly," the Doctor urged, pressing his hand against her bum.
She'd just stuck her hand outside in the grass and mud when a mighty roar sounded throughout the pipe and a rush of water swept around them. Mud and dirt and dead plants and other debris swirled under and over them, the inches of water growing to a foot before they'd both gotten free. Rose scrambled back on her hands and knees and stared at the place they'd just been in. The pipe was nearly engulfed in water and it was pouring out the opening toward them.
She stood slowly, scraping her hands against her sodden jeans, trying to free her fingers of the mud and bits of gunk that stuck to her like glue. A breeze brushed against her, raising goose bumps on her bare skin. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the Doctor who was in worse shape than she was. His hair was dripping, the water droplets sliding down his face, onto his soaked clothes.
But it was the smell that was the worst. Holding the back of her hand against her mouth and nose, she moved back from the drainage pipe, coughing.
The Doctor grabbed her hand, looking decidedly put out, and marched her in the direction of the TARDIS.
8-21-08
