Work Text:
They end up darting through the trees,
laughing, the Doctor
just ahead
of Rose,
pulling at her hand.
They’d been exploring in the village
when the rain started,
not a sprinkle
or a drizzle
but a downpour,
like standing in a waterfall.
Rose shrieks a laugh
and their hands reach out
as one,
finding each other
with ease.
(A thousand
thousand
years,
their hands
can find each other
anywhere.)
They run,
their steps
finding an easy rhythm,
arms pumping,
hearts beating
in time.
But when the Doctor
almost
has her fingers
on the door of the TARDIS
Rose pulls her back,
into her arms,
presses her back into the rough blue.
There’s a hum of approval
from the ship–
she always
has to have her say–
but they barely notice.
Fingers push dripping blonde hair
from eyes, other find
warm skin just above jeans
or hook through belt loops.
Closer,
tighter,
heartbeats
almost
indistinguishable.
Breath mingles,
smiling lips
press together,
fingers splay
on the small of a back.
A tongue teases,
kisses deepen,
heads spin.
Pulling apart to
breathe,
eyes meet,
foreheads press
together.
No words are needed.
Touch
is enough.