neverwouldiever | A rose is a rose is a rose...

[When the TARDIS materializes, it only takes about half a second for the Doctor to come out, which is very indicative of how he must have been running for the door, even though he tries to look very much as if he hasn't been, leaning against the door and trying to send her a composed and hopefully seductive smile.

It doesn't quite work, since he ends up just gaping at her.]

Those pictures were terrible. Lying liars. Who lie.

[With that bit of eloquence he made his way over to the bed, clearing his throat as he kept his eyes on her as if the rest of the world didn't exist.

At least he actually isn't covered in alien slime. As far as the engagement is concerned, he'll have to figure that out when he gets back. But that hardly matters now, as he props one knee on her bed and puts his hands down on either side of her head.]

Didn't do you justice at all.

[ her worries melt away the second she hears the familiar whirl of the TARDIS' engines, watching the blue box that's become her home away from home appear slowly in her room, the Doctor running out nearly out of breath but feigning nonchalance all the same. His reaction is what makes it all worth it, taking that risk of not putting her sweater back on, her gaze never leaving his as he makes his way over and above her, and she eases herself down off her elbows to lie flat on the bed beneath him. ]

Never going to trust a grainy mobile photo again? [ already half out of breath, Rose's pulse is thrumming loudly behind her ribs, wondering if he can hear it with his oversensitive hearing and his close proximity, and with some daring ( her bravado only slightly enhanced by the lingering alcohol in her blood ) she lifts her arms to sling loosely around his neck, the fingers of one hand threading through the back of his hair that she so fancies. ]

Meant what I said, y'know. I'm yours. [ it feels good to actually say it, the two of them always dancing around certain words but never expressing them, at least not verbally, and she watches him with dark, adoring eyes, swallowing hard. ]

[There's a lot that his senses take in that a human wouldn't notice. He smells the alcohol on her, but a look into her eyes assures him that she isn't truly intoxicated, nothing that means he should stop himself. Not that he's entirely sure if he could, because although he'd only meant to look into her eyes for a moment, he couldn't seem to tear his gaze away.

He nods to her words, although he doesn't say anything. There's a reason for him to dance around words, there are so many reason for him to not say certain things. It's there in his eyes, in just the fact that he is here. He hears her heart beat and it makes him smile, although there's something about him that stays very serious. He certainly shouldn't be this nervous, he's been around and it's not as if he hasn't known, hasn't been aware of what she felt for a while now. But acting on it?

Still something else altogether.

He lowers himself only slowly, until the fabric of his clothes brushes against her skin, until his lips can touch her jaw. The first kiss is almost nothing, barely there and quickly over. But then he catcher her lips and, well. That's a different beast altogether. That is more telling than all his words could be, burning in its urgency and deep enough to be a promise.]

[ the way he looks down at her would be enough to make her knees weak if she were standing, grateful she's lying safely on her back beneath him. The first touch of his mouth to her skin has her drawing in a slow, shuddering breath and there's little time to think, to consider how real this is before he's kissing her full on the mouth and she's lost.

They've kissed before— technically, and twice, but both instances are strange and hazy in her memories. Once he'd had a different face and the other, she hadn't been herself ( a credit, at least, to Cassandra's boldness ) but the wait has been completely worth it. One of her hands slides down to cup his jaw tenderly, almost reverent as she returns the kiss with equal passion and enthusiasm to spare. Rose knows she has to share him with the universe, with centuries of memories but if she can have just one small piece of him, one little space somewhere between those two hearts of his, it's really all she could ask or want for.

There's so much she wants to say but words almost feel as though they'd ruin the moment, so she murmurs his name against his mouth ( at least the only one she knows ) and hums in satisfaction, pressing herself up against him in a quiet gesture for more. ]

[The only name that matters these days, really, and hearing it whispered like that touches something inside him he's thought he might have lost along the way. It's enough to have him still, breathing against her lips and then finally he smiles. The Doctor's hand follows the curve of her waist, up from her hip and then he moves his hand just enough for the palm to brush against her breast, gentle and almost shy. He's not sure if he could be any good at going slow once he allows himself more and he doesn't want to rush any of this.]

Hey.

[He catches her eyes and licks his lips in a quick movement before he continues.]

Did you know that there's nowhere better to be in the universe than with you?

[ he might as well have said those three little words she so longs to hear; for the Doctor, it's about as close as Rose imagines she'll ever get, and she gazes back up into his face with a hazy, wanting expression, blinking slowly, her eyes dark and imploring.

She wants desperately to say it. Instead, she lifts a hand and drags her thumb across his bottom lip, his hand warm and welcome over the curve of her breast. Surely he can feel her rushing pulse there, to urge him on. ]

There's no where I'd rather be but with you. Always.

[His eyes fall close at her touch, the breath he lets out noticeably shaky. Sensitive. This body, definitely very sensitive. It doesn't surprise him, but he's never been made quite that aware of it.

The Doctor is smiling when he looks at her again, his hand travelling down from her breast, over her stomach and lower still. It's been a while and even if it hadn't been, he's not sure, he can't be sure, whether this isn't the wrong thing to do. However, right now he doesn't give a damn.]

So what is it you wanted?

Oh, you know. Just a chat over a cuppa. [ her face lights up into a smile, cheeks glowing with flush that has little to do with the aftereffects of a few pints, and a lot more to do with how knowing his hand glides down her bare skin. Rose shakes her head against the blanket of golden hair beneath her, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. It feels like a loaded question but it has the simplest of answers, in reality. ]

I have what I wanted right here, don't I? [ A rhetorical question, answered in part by lifting one of her legs high up around his waist, drawing him further into the circle of her thighs and certainly not meant as any gesture of innocence. She's pleased to see just how affected the Doctor is by all of this, still maintaining most of his usual composure, but she knows him well enough to see him fray at the edges, and she sudden realizes how much she wants to see that — to see him come apart just for her. ]

[It's the little things, really, like his eyes widening for just a moment and his lips pressed together as he shifts. His eyes are on hers as his hand finally settles between her legs, just gentle pressure for the moment, nothing more. There's the slightest quiver in the arm he uses to hold himself up and it's not lack of strength, it's not as if he's all that heavy or out of form.]

You're sure?

[ her palm lifts to sweep tenderly down the side of his face, holding his jaw in her hand as though he's something precious; and to Rose Tyler, there's nothing better in all the universe than the man right above her. She likes to think she's a bit more qualified to make judgment calls like that now as well, and she gives him a reassuring nod, unafraid. Wanting, more than anything. ]

Completely. [ She hopes any more of his lingering doubt is mollified by how sincerely she gazes up at him, and if he needs any more reassurance, she gives it when she leans up on one elbow to kiss him again, harder this time, insistent and passionate and open mouthed, heavy between them. ]

[That is without a doubt very convincing and if his enthusiasm in returning the kiss is anything to go by. There is also his hand between her legs, apparently not quite as clueless about what it was doing as one might assume.

At the moment he doesn't really think much further, kissing her, being close to her and touching her, knowing it was what both of them wanted... No need to analyze it beyond that. No need to plan ahead, either. He loves the moment.]

A rose is a rose is a rose...

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