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applecameronExplicit sex, and I *do* mean explicit.
Title: Christening the Flat
Author: Apple Cameron, September 2003.
Fandom: Doctor Who, Eighth Doctor
Pairing: Eighth Doctor/Bernice Summerfield
Category: Missing scene for The Dying Days, by Lance Parkin.
Spoilers: The Dying Days, by Lance Parkin.
Rating: Adult only.
Christening the Flat, a Doctor Who (Eight/Bernice) hetfic by Apple Cameron.
Explicit sex, a little champagne, and not much else. Based on the penultimate chapter of The Dying Days, by Lance Parkin.
"I had better go", the Doctor said quietly, when he had finished his champagne.
Benny hesitated, looking into those deep blue eyes of his.
"Yes. Look, before you leave, there's one thing I have to do. I'd never forgive myself otherwise."
The Doctor looked puzzled "What would that -- "
She grabbed the lapels of his frock coat, kissed him square on the mouth, and pushed him down hard on to the bed.
Wolsey jumped out of the way.
-- The Dying Days, by Lance Parkin
They tumbled together, arms and legs and the bedclothes tangling almost immediately. The Doctor smiled against her mouth and she swiped at his front teeth with her tongue, tickling. He burst out laughing, rolling them so Benny lay on her back with his leg nestled firmly between hers. The Doctor propped himself on one arm, grinning like a madman, then laughed again, gently, one finger rubbing his upper lip.
Yes. This was what she wanted. This Doctor, laughing out loud, in her bed. The Doctor who laughs. It was almost too much to bear, after all the years with her Doctor, loving him in a way that simply had never had the slightest physical component. The grief hit her in the chest, suddenly, like a weight landing from above, and she sank inside beneath it.
The Doctor watched her closely, face solemn again. Bernice was unable to speak, tears welling up, but only overflowing a little. She put a palm to his cheek.
One of his long-fingered hands cradled her head, as he leaned on his elbow. The free one touched her lips with two fingers. "Thank you, Bernice. Thank you for everything. Thank you even for crying over my death."
It was hard to smile and cry at the same time. The smile won, wry, still sad, but a smile nonetheless. "Now I know you're not the same Doctor."
"Everything changes when your life changes, Bernice. Why they call it 'everything'." His fingers were so terribly gentle, tracing the contours of her face, taking up the salt off her cheeks, as light on her skin as the end of a cat's tail. "But you don't need me to tell you that."
Their lips touched again.
He began to take off her clothes, slowly, and she took off his until they were skin to skin and nothing else. They made love as if they had all the time in the world. Which was probably the case.
Their bodies fit together, resting comfortably. Benny's fingers stroked the Doctor's hair, his head against her chest. His curls were fine and soft under her hand.
"I admit that was not the good-bye I expected." The Doctor finally said, looking up at her. His eyes were sad. He moved up to be right against her face, lying on his side. "Much better than just a champagne toast." His lips brushed hers and withdrew.
The mercurial nature of this man -- Gallifreyan, the language police in the back of her head corrected automatically -- was amazing. He went from joy to grief and back again in seconds. She stroked his cheek with her thumb, up high, just under his eye, where the skin began to get very soft, and kissed him there, quite delicately.
"Visit me sometime." Bernice said. "Or, don't." Humans make that trip in seconds, too.
He kissed her, slowly and thoroughly. Intent. Long fingers moved up and down her ribs, playing them like he played the controls of his TARDIS. Then he rolled her slowly on top of him, and began to play her spine, eyes half-closed to concentrate. She felt him pulse under the brush of her body.
Bernice stayed silent until his fingers reached the base of her spine, then began massaging even lower. She arched back and he followed up, lips reaching for her left nipple. The air on her right breast made a surprising contrast.
"Doctor -- " Desire uncoiled throughout her body.
There was an answering hum, and the Doctor rolled them about again, then began kissing his way down her front. Lips, to neck, tracing her bone structure down between her breasts. First suckling one, then the other. Heat built slowly at her center.
His lips followed the trail down her ribs his fingers had taken earlier, then he nuzzled into her groin. Those fine hands parted her legs gently, and the Doctor settled himself between them, the soft curls of his hair brushing her skin as he turned to plant a kiss on the flesh of her inner thigh.
Benny arched up at the pleasure of it all. This Doctor. There. Yes.
This Doctor chirruped wickedly, "do you like the champagne?" He reached for one of their mugs and poured a tiny amount onto her belly, then more lower down. Then he began to clean the bubbly off her skin with his mouth, with almost ostentatious care.
It was maddening until he reached exactly where she wished he would, and then it was heavenly.
He teased her gently with his tongue, hands holding her hips down, taking his time until every nerve in her body was on fire. His tongue stiffened, stabbed inside her, soft and alive and "Oh!" So closesoclosesoclose. "Oh!" Pleasure was everywhere, she was made of it. "Doctor!" He pulled away and watched her writhe, one finger tracing designs around the spot where he'd kissed earlier.
"Please." She was helpless, twitching, hands clutching at the sheets. "Please."
The beautiful man between her thighs looked up and beamed. "Certainly, Bernice."
The Doctor crawled up Benny's body, nudging her legs wider apart until she drew them up. Then he captured her eyes with his. The very tip of his hardness touched her, and almost nothing else.
He waited. So close and yet so far. Benny squirmed, but he tilted his hips away. "Please -- "
That did it. He slid inside in one smooth movement. Her body lifted, hands gripping his buttocks, and she pulled him as deep as she possibly could. The agony/ecstasy as they moved together was immeasurable.
Every stroke hit something buried deep inside her and the heat of a building climax welled until Benny thought she'd scream, then the Doctor's pace slowed and the heat grew even further.
She couldn't hold this much pleasure inside one body. The Doctor tossed back his head, eyes shut. He thrust deep, once, twice, a sudden fast rhythm and she felt him pulse inside her but he didn't stop. Then everything was gone in a flood of release, except the impact of that lovely smile, that lovely voice crying out her name, and her own crying out for him.
Bernice dozed, draped over the Doctor's lean chest, listening to his hearts beat. At some point, she slipped into true sleep.
When she woke, it was with the half-dream memory of a man in a velvet coat kissing her cheek, then her forehead. It was good-bye he had whispered, wasn't it? Was it?
Benny opened her eyes completely. She was alone in the bed, aside from Wolsey, who had claimed a pillow. One eye slitted open to consider her, then closed. Aside from her feline companion, there was the silence in the little flat of no-one-else-home. Not the Doctor in the kitchenette fetching tea and toast, or rummaging through one of her boxes on the floor of the study, or even washing up. Not there at all.
She turned and scritched the cat's ears, then looked about the room, worrying at her feelings like a tongue at a loose tooth.
Heart hurt? Only a little. She picked up her mug. The champagne was flat, now, but it still tasted good.
THE END
The next item in The Birthday Project (not counting any other pure-sex-fics that might present themselves to be tossed off) is EITHER going to be:
1. DW 8/Hornblower (series) xover
2. DW 8/5 slash, possibly set in a different universe, but I shan't say which.
3. DW 8/? hetfic, hopefully more from his POV than hers, which may not be possible. Although. Wait. A tried-and-true idea may just have occurred to me. Hm. Hm some more.
Anyway. I'm aiming for #2, hence all the Five episode-watching, but we'll see what happens.
Title: Christening the Flat
Author: Apple Cameron, September 2003.
Fandom: Doctor Who, Eighth Doctor
Pairing: Eighth Doctor/Bernice Summerfield
Category: Missing scene for The Dying Days, by Lance Parkin.
Spoilers: The Dying Days, by Lance Parkin.
Rating: Adult only.
Christening the Flat, a Doctor Who (Eight/Bernice) hetfic by Apple Cameron.
Explicit sex, a little champagne, and not much else. Based on the penultimate chapter of The Dying Days, by Lance Parkin.
"I had better go", the Doctor said quietly, when he had finished his champagne.
Benny hesitated, looking into those deep blue eyes of his.
"Yes. Look, before you leave, there's one thing I have to do. I'd never forgive myself otherwise."
The Doctor looked puzzled "What would that -- "
She grabbed the lapels of his frock coat, kissed him square on the mouth, and pushed him down hard on to the bed.
Wolsey jumped out of the way.
-- The Dying Days, by Lance Parkin
They tumbled together, arms and legs and the bedclothes tangling almost immediately. The Doctor smiled against her mouth and she swiped at his front teeth with her tongue, tickling. He burst out laughing, rolling them so Benny lay on her back with his leg nestled firmly between hers. The Doctor propped himself on one arm, grinning like a madman, then laughed again, gently, one finger rubbing his upper lip.
Yes. This was what she wanted. This Doctor, laughing out loud, in her bed. The Doctor who laughs. It was almost too much to bear, after all the years with her Doctor, loving him in a way that simply had never had the slightest physical component. The grief hit her in the chest, suddenly, like a weight landing from above, and she sank inside beneath it.
The Doctor watched her closely, face solemn again. Bernice was unable to speak, tears welling up, but only overflowing a little. She put a palm to his cheek.
One of his long-fingered hands cradled her head, as he leaned on his elbow. The free one touched her lips with two fingers. "Thank you, Bernice. Thank you for everything. Thank you even for crying over my death."
It was hard to smile and cry at the same time. The smile won, wry, still sad, but a smile nonetheless. "Now I know you're not the same Doctor."
"Everything changes when your life changes, Bernice. Why they call it 'everything'." His fingers were so terribly gentle, tracing the contours of her face, taking up the salt off her cheeks, as light on her skin as the end of a cat's tail. "But you don't need me to tell you that."
Their lips touched again.
He began to take off her clothes, slowly, and she took off his until they were skin to skin and nothing else. They made love as if they had all the time in the world. Which was probably the case.
Their bodies fit together, resting comfortably. Benny's fingers stroked the Doctor's hair, his head against her chest. His curls were fine and soft under her hand.
"I admit that was not the good-bye I expected." The Doctor finally said, looking up at her. His eyes were sad. He moved up to be right against her face, lying on his side. "Much better than just a champagne toast." His lips brushed hers and withdrew.
The mercurial nature of this man -- Gallifreyan, the language police in the back of her head corrected automatically -- was amazing. He went from joy to grief and back again in seconds. She stroked his cheek with her thumb, up high, just under his eye, where the skin began to get very soft, and kissed him there, quite delicately.
"Visit me sometime." Bernice said. "Or, don't." Humans make that trip in seconds, too.
He kissed her, slowly and thoroughly. Intent. Long fingers moved up and down her ribs, playing them like he played the controls of his TARDIS. Then he rolled her slowly on top of him, and began to play her spine, eyes half-closed to concentrate. She felt him pulse under the brush of her body.
Bernice stayed silent until his fingers reached the base of her spine, then began massaging even lower. She arched back and he followed up, lips reaching for her left nipple. The air on her right breast made a surprising contrast.
"Doctor -- " Desire uncoiled throughout her body.
There was an answering hum, and the Doctor rolled them about again, then began kissing his way down her front. Lips, to neck, tracing her bone structure down between her breasts. First suckling one, then the other. Heat built slowly at her center.
His lips followed the trail down her ribs his fingers had taken earlier, then he nuzzled into her groin. Those fine hands parted her legs gently, and the Doctor settled himself between them, the soft curls of his hair brushing her skin as he turned to plant a kiss on the flesh of her inner thigh.
Benny arched up at the pleasure of it all. This Doctor. There. Yes.
This Doctor chirruped wickedly, "do you like the champagne?" He reached for one of their mugs and poured a tiny amount onto her belly, then more lower down. Then he began to clean the bubbly off her skin with his mouth, with almost ostentatious care.
It was maddening until he reached exactly where she wished he would, and then it was heavenly.
He teased her gently with his tongue, hands holding her hips down, taking his time until every nerve in her body was on fire. His tongue stiffened, stabbed inside her, soft and alive and "Oh!" So closesoclosesoclose. "Oh!" Pleasure was everywhere, she was made of it. "Doctor!" He pulled away and watched her writhe, one finger tracing designs around the spot where he'd kissed earlier.
"Please." She was helpless, twitching, hands clutching at the sheets. "Please."
The beautiful man between her thighs looked up and beamed. "Certainly, Bernice."
The Doctor crawled up Benny's body, nudging her legs wider apart until she drew them up. Then he captured her eyes with his. The very tip of his hardness touched her, and almost nothing else.
He waited. So close and yet so far. Benny squirmed, but he tilted his hips away. "Please -- "
That did it. He slid inside in one smooth movement. Her body lifted, hands gripping his buttocks, and she pulled him as deep as she possibly could. The agony/ecstasy as they moved together was immeasurable.
Every stroke hit something buried deep inside her and the heat of a building climax welled until Benny thought she'd scream, then the Doctor's pace slowed and the heat grew even further.
She couldn't hold this much pleasure inside one body. The Doctor tossed back his head, eyes shut. He thrust deep, once, twice, a sudden fast rhythm and she felt him pulse inside her but he didn't stop. Then everything was gone in a flood of release, except the impact of that lovely smile, that lovely voice crying out her name, and her own crying out for him.
Bernice dozed, draped over the Doctor's lean chest, listening to his hearts beat. At some point, she slipped into true sleep.
When she woke, it was with the half-dream memory of a man in a velvet coat kissing her cheek, then her forehead. It was good-bye he had whispered, wasn't it? Was it?
Benny opened her eyes completely. She was alone in the bed, aside from Wolsey, who had claimed a pillow. One eye slitted open to consider her, then closed. Aside from her feline companion, there was the silence in the little flat of no-one-else-home. Not the Doctor in the kitchenette fetching tea and toast, or rummaging through one of her boxes on the floor of the study, or even washing up. Not there at all.
She turned and scritched the cat's ears, then looked about the room, worrying at her feelings like a tongue at a loose tooth.
Heart hurt? Only a little. She picked up her mug. The champagne was flat, now, but it still tasted good.
THE END
The next item in The Birthday Project (not counting any other pure-sex-fics that might present themselves to be tossed off) is EITHER going to be:
1. DW 8/Hornblower (series) xover
2. DW 8/5 slash, possibly set in a different universe, but I shan't say which.
3. DW 8/? hetfic, hopefully more from his POV than hers, which may not be possible. Although. Wait. A tried-and-true idea may just have occurred to me. Hm. Hm some more.
Anyway. I'm aiming for #2, hence all the Five episode-watching, but we'll see what happens.
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no subject
on 2003-09-06 09:03 pm (UTC)Oooo, and I like the looks of that list.