Chapter Text
The Doctor is shrugging his shirt back on, his chest still heaving as he reaches for the buttons as River watches him, still half naked on the bed. She spreads her legs a bit and her hand trails slowly between her thighs.
“Doctor, that was…” She whispers, as her fingers glide along her flesh, but she doesn’t finish her sentence. Lets her hand speak for itself.
The Doctor fumbles with his buttons, his hands shaking a bit and he lets the fabric go, adjusting it as it billows out around him; he poises his fingers to try the buttons again. The low light of the TARDIS bedroom does him no favours, not that he’s particularly coordinated in this body in the first place.
River narrows her eyes, removing her hand from between her legs and sitting up on the bed. She moves to the end and peers at him, “Hang on,” She leans forward over the edge of the bed, “Is that a tattoo?”
Her eyes are fixed on his ribs and the Doctor blushes, reaching up to fiddle with his bowtie before he realizes it’s on a lampshade on the other side of the room. He gathers the material of his shirt around himself and hastily attempts to button his shirt again.
River slides off the edge of the bed and makes her way over to him, grasping his hands in hers before he can dodge out of her way. She pries his hands apart and away, and he’d quite forgotten how strong she actually is. She spreads his shirt open and he makes one final attempt to thwart her, trying to pull the material back but she grips it in her hands and yanks.
The rip of the fabric is loud in the bedroom, but the Doctor just rolls his eyes, “You didn’t have to ruin it, River,” He pouts, “That was my third favorite shirt.”
River rolls her eyes, “Just be glad I don’t do to your shirts what I do to your ridiculous hats, sweetie.”
The Doctor stares at her, his mouth hanging open, “What’s wrong with my shirts?”
She doesn’t answer, simply lets his shirt flutter to the floor as she stares at the writing on his ribs. “It is,” She breathes out, lowering herself down a bit to stare at it, “It’s a tattoo,” She looks up at him from her position, her look a mixture of bemusement and disbelief, “Is it real?”
The Doctor scoffs, his face the picture of indignation, “Is it real? No, I put fake tattoos on, River.”
River keeps her position, arching her brow at him, a small smile playing on her lips as she stares at him.
He huffs, “That was one time, and you know it was for a…” He shakes his head, trailing off in frustration, his cheeks suffusing with color in a mixture of embarrassment and irritation.
River simply shrugs, and then brings her index finger to her tongue; she reaches out and runs her wet finger firmly over the ink on his ribs – when it doesn’t smudge, the Doctor looks at her smugly and she rolls her eyes, “This body got a tattoo?” Her tone conveys her disbelief.
The Doctor grumbles a bit, wishing he could tug his shirt up over his chest, but it’s tattered and on the floor now and not at all for the fun reasons it usually is, though at least it’s still at the hands of River.
“I lost a bet,” He mumbles, hoping it’ll be the end of it, knowing that it won’t be.
“What?” River asks, straightening and coolly meeting his gaze.
The Doctor sighs, “I said I lost a bet.”
She doesn’t act surprised, and the Doctor wonders if he should be vaguely offended by that, “What is it?” She leans closer to the tattoo again, turning her head a bit to the side, the dim lights making it hard to see, “Looks like coordinates,” She observes, her breath hot and warm against his skin, “And a bit of – is that Gallifreyan?” River asks, clearly amused as she stands back up and looks at him.
The Doctor sighs, “Yes,” He speaks through clenched teeth – it’s not enough that he lost the bet to River in the first place, now he has to explain it to her before she even knows what’s happened.
“Who’d you lose the bet to, then?” River asks, leaning back on the bed and searching for her vest. Finding it, she pulls it over her head and smooths it over her abdomen, pulling her curls out and fluffing them a bit as she looks at him, curiosity written all over her face.
The Doctor grins at her, making his way to his closet and pulling out a fresh shirt – his fifth favorite – and slipping his arms through it, “Spoilers,” He smiles at her, and she rolls her eyes.
“I like that word so much better when you don’t use it to hide from me,” River says, leaning down and picking up her skirt. She steps into it and grabs her belt, buckling it over the waistband of the skirt, “Someone fabulous, I assume? Always right?”
River grins at him like she knows, and he gapes at her for a minute before his fingers begin work on his buttons – when he’s at the top one, he shakes his head, “I suppose – some days, anyway.”
She reaches into the bedside dresser and grabs her blaster, placing it in her holster as she turns to look at him, “Oh, come on, sweetie,” River says, plucking his bowtie from the lampshade. She makes her way over to him, that predatory smile he loves so much spreading across her face; she loops his bowtie around his neck and begins to tie it, her fingers deftly making the knot, “Only someone completely fabulous could get you to tattoo ‘I was wrong’ on your body.”
The Doctor splutters and she pats the knot of his bowtie, “River,” He grits the word out, though he doesn’t really have anything to come after it – it seems she always leaves him speechless.
River leans up and presses a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, “What are the coordinates, though?”
The Doctor sighs, shrugging his braces up over his shoulders and smoothing his hair back from his face, “The coordinates are… are where I was wrong,” He narrows his eyes at her, watching her face carefully.
River nods, her eyes wide and innocent, “Oh,” Her eyes wide and too innocent as far as the Doctor is concerned, “Best to bet only once then, sweetie,” She nods, reaching behind him and into the closet for her jacket. The Doctor takes it from her and helps her into it – she turns around and smiles sweetly at him, “I imagine your body would be covered if you had to get a tattoo every time you’re wrong at my hands.”