Work Text:
“Rory, Rory, Rory” the Doctor murmured softly knees sinking down into the mattress, head bending in to the human’s and his hand coming to rest against the small of Rory’s back. The base of the human’s spine was burning hot, scorching into his palm like a stigmata, the muted vibration of all the nerves spinning out and signalling from beneath Rory’s skin giving him a brief and headily addictive rush.
He controlled the flow of air past his voicebox tightly as he spoke, drawing and humming out the vowels of the human’s name, rolling them through his mouth. Their names, so short, so alien, were like butter in his mouth, melting and coating his tongue with unfamiliarity. It was like a flavour quickly fading away, so that he sought to prolong the presence of this name in his mouth, enjoying the way it sounded out, the way that the walls of his ship became hushed as if to listen. He let the muted vibration of his words come more and more softly, a mantra and a prayer spilling from his lips, until that they were the sparest caress against Rory’s ear. The sudden thrumming tension in the human’s muscles when his lips brushed at the shell of his ear pleased him immensely, signals racing from muscle to muscle, nerve to nerve.
By now he had Rory face down, body pressed into rumpled sheets with the bed a blank expanse beneath him supporting his slight frame. The long pale lines of his legs and arms spread were spread wide, his backside tilted, canted at an angle by the pillows the Doctor had tenderly slid underneath his pelvis. In this position his spine was sinuous, stretched out cat-like by the position he was anchored into, feline on a white cotton canvas.
It had all been leading them both into this moment; this clean bed, the humming walls that held them, the air here and now filled with their shared breathing - an air which was now growing warm and close, heavy with the scent of fear and of lust.