Heart-To-Heart (Doctor Who (2005) fanfiction)
Story Summary
The Doctor and Rose have a heart-to-heart following the events on Krop Tor.
1/1 chapters. For TenRose Month 2023; @tenrosemonth
Day 2/Prompt: Heart-To-Heart.
Rating: General
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Word Count: 2253
Chapter Content/Tags: First kiss; cuddling; sharing a bed.
Link (AO3), or read below!
Story
After Krop Tor, there was an unspoken consensus shared between Rose and the Doctor.
It started with that hug, really. The tight grips wrapped around each other; the way they beamed into each other’s necks; how he lifted her with all of his might and just seemed to refuse to let go. It was a quiet declaration that this trip had been terrifying for them both, and they were glad to get out of it together alive.
Once they bid their goodbyes to their brief friends, the pair gazed at each other for a moment, seemingly lost in each other’s eyes. It was a cheesy sentiment, yes, but they honestly were. Rose found herself tumbling through the chocolate irises that reminded her of the portal that Alice fell through in her own adventures, entranced by the flecks of cedar, syrup brown, caramel and tawny scattered throughout. Really, they looked like a supernova with the dim, moody lighting of the TARDIS’ console room. She felt her breath hitch as she watched his pupils dilate into twin black holes, greedy and all-encompassing.
He was caught up in his own hypnotism, staring deeply into the windows of her soul and just thanking every deity and god in the universe that had played a role in keeping Rose safe and with him; for preserving her in his life. If he had lost her, lost his Rose, he wouldn’t have survived. He drank in the remnants of Bad Wolf that tended to surface whenever the light just hit her eyes right. It highlighted and sparked the golden elements contained within those nebulas, haunting and stirring him greatly with distant memories of, “I bring life”. The possible timelines of today danced before him like taunting ghosts of the past, present and future; like the witches in Macbeth dangling false promises before him with vague words and imagery, manipulating him cleverly. He shuddered to think how differently things could have played out with just the minuscule differences.
“I… I think I’m gonna go to bed,” she eventually murmured. He sucked in a breath and managed to tear his focus away from her, fiddling with a few buttons and switches that didn’t need to be touched but acted as great props for a false console routine.
“Oh, I hope so, Rose Tyler,” he drawled with a smile. “That was a big day. Can’t have my best companion sleep-walking through our next journey, eh?” he teased. She grinned back at him, no teeth showing.
“Yeah — it has been,” she agreed, tilting her head and observing the Time Lord for just a moment, leaning against the railing that was wrapped in foam after one too many heads and elbows and shins got knocked on the pipes of metal during bumpy rides. “I’ll just be in my room,” she added, even though she didn’t need to. Where else would she be?
He didn’t reply, only nodding mutedly. With that, she started to turn and head for the hallway. However, she was stopped by a collection of words delivered in a rushed, almost panicked tone that she believed she would never hear in her lifetime.
“Would you like me to join you?”
It was mythic, almost. Rose even questioned if perhaps that rocket ship and blasting the demon away had been a bit too much on her mind, sending her into a state of hysteria and confusion.
“Rose?” His follow-up that just barely concealed the desperate plea of his voice, the need aching and overwhelming within him told her she wasn’t making things up. It was a real, sincere request.
She carefully swivelled back around and found the alien now facing her, still posted at the console. He was scratching the back of his neck and tugging at his earlobe, a bright pink flushed against his cheeks and brightening the thousands of freckles that were mostly invisible on his fair skin generally. He could hardly look at her, embarrassment and regret filling him head to toe like he was some lanky jug.
“Well?” he asked, the silence killing him. He couldn’t hide the neediness in his tone this time, and it exacerbated his mortification.
“I’d like that,” she answered softly, feeling like she was in a dream.
He froze, but a small grin came onto his lips.
“Brilliant. How about we… sort ourselves out, showers, jim-jams and all, and I’ll meet you in your room?” he suggested, trying his best to act suave and casual, dragging a single finger against a spot on the console to gather up imaginary dust and kicking the rubber toe of his battered Converse against the grating. She resisted smirking and giggling at his attempted persona, but reigned it all in. She didn’t want him to end up pouting and whining that she was making fun of him.
“Okay,” she whispered, fiddling with a loose thread dangling from the bottom of her jumper. “How does half an hour sound?” she proposed, wanting to make her enthusiasm for his idea clear as well.
He grinned at her, perking up a little bit more. “Molto bene.”
She grinned back at him. “I’ll see you then.”
The Doctor watched Rose depart from the console room into the halls and let his eyes fall shut, letting the air that he had stored inside of his lungs via respiratory bypass for the last four minutes of that conversation fall from his lips in nervous, quick pants.
Oh, Doctor. You’re in deep, he thought to himself.
—
Rose surprised herself with how quickly she got ready for bed that night, but it wasn’t really all that shocking. She speed-ran every aspect of her routine — scrubbing her face clean of make-up, having a thorough shower to rid herself of every drop of sweat and speck of dirt embedded in her pores and skin, lathered her skin in her favourite cherry blossom-scented lotion, brushed and flossed her teeth like she was an archaeologist on a dig site, towel-dried her hair into loose waves, and after a nerve-wracking, intense dilemma, settled on wearing a cute summer set of pyjamas that had stars printed all over them, layering a light sweatshirt on top.
She had five minutes to spare, and after a brief panic, decided to wait in bed with the door open. With a quiet murmur, the TARDIS dimmed the lights in Rose’s room as her passenger bundled herself beneath the sheets, sighing softly as the toasty warmth of her sheets encased her whole. The Doctor had been right — today was long and exhausting, and as she let her eyelids droop a little, she found herself drawing closer to the edge of sleep, teetering on the edge as she fought to stay awake.
The arrival of the Time Lord was the cure to her dangerous dance with the sandman, the sight of his silhouette appearing in the doorway bringing her right back to full consciousness. He was dressed down in a pair of striped pyjama trousers and one of his henleys, buttons undone to tease her with the barest glimpse of the smattering of chest hair that adorned his skin.
“Rose? You asleep?” he quietly called out, resting against the doorway and pocketing his hands.
“Just about,” she replied with a grin. He chuckled, padding into her room. Gathering all of his confidence, he made a beeline for the unvacated side of the bed and lifted the sheets up, joining his human beneath them. This wasn’t the first time they’d shared a bed together — of course it wasn’t. This lifestyle called for desperate measures at times — but this was the first time he asked her if they could without needing to. It was pure, uncontained want, and it terrified him to regeneration to be upfront about it; to be vulnerable with her.
She turned on her side to face him, smiling at the vision of him in the shadowy darkness of her room. The TARDIS lowered the lights further and cast them into space, in a way. The contrast of shades against his sharp and defined face was a gorgeous sight to her, and she craved the skill to commit to paper, or at least have a photographic memory.
He lifted up one arm in invitation, and she didn’t hesitate to shuffle right up against him, eagerly burrowing into his embrace as he wrapped his limb around her waist and draw her close against his chest. She planted one cheek against his chest and him on top of her head as their legs tangled, and she threaded one arm around his torso to complete their unification.
“Alright, after everything that happened today?” he asked softly in the still darkness, squeezing her as a sign of comfort. She sighed, her warm breath passing through the fabric of his shirt and hitting his chest, sending a shiver down his spine.
“No — not really,” she confessed. He frowned and tightened his grip. “I… I was really scared, honestly. I thought we were stuck for good, and then I thought we were gonna die…” she croaked a little, tears built up in her eyes. He shushed her softly, stroking her back soothingly.
“It’s alright,” he cooed, trying to ease the tremors running through her. “You’re safe. We survived and that thing is long gone now.”
“But… the prophecy,” she reminded him, and he slightly hated her for it. He felt his jaw clench and body tense all over at the thought of that stupidannouncement, the way this threat was forced upon her and was tormenting her already. Rose shouldn’t have to fear something so cruel and malicious.
“It lied, Rose,” he assured her, rubbing his thumb in a simple up-and-down motion against her back in a soothing motion, trying to lull her back to drowsiness. Also, he just wanted to touch her like that and seized the opportunity. She resisted trembling at his intimate caress. “You aren’t going to die in battle, and I’ll make sure of it,” he promised, planting a soft kiss to her temple.
“But… we can’t be certain,” she argued, tracing some shapes of her own. “Anything can happen, Doctor, including things that aren’t within your control.” He sucked in a breath, pulling back a little to gaze at his friend. She matched it, somehow holding a powerful stare within the murkiness of the dark.
“Rose, I will do anything to keep you safe, and that’s something I intend to uphold,” he declared, his eyes wide with emotion and emphasis. “You are the most important thing to me in my life — more than the TARDIS; Gallifrey; my people. You are all that matters, understand?” he professed, tone firm with certainty and full of… awe, and admiration. She wet her lips quickly, a bit anxious at this sudden expression of need and importance after all this time. After so much vagueness and dancing around; concealment of truth and feelings.
“Yeah?” she mumbled, unable to say anything else.
“Yes,” he assured her, his eyes flickering to her mouth briefly.
He wanted to. Always had. But there were far too many reasons why not to.
She caught the distracted gaze, savouring the pure look of need in his eyes.
He returned his focus to her, and of course she’d seen it. The way her curious eyes peered up at him with pure pride and certainty told him that he hadn’t been as subtle as he hoped to be.
“Rose—” he began, but she interrupted him sharply and without mercy.
“Doctor, if you’re not going to give me what I want, give us both what we want, then you can leave,” she whispered. It was a bold response, a risky one, but she knew she was holding all the cards right now. They held their gaze, an unofficial contest of wits and prowess.
Slowly, and carefully, he brought one of his hands up and cupped her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her cheek bone and the apple of her cheek. Her skin was warm beneath his touch, and he didn’t need superior vision to know she was blushing. He didn’t need sharpened hearing to know her heart was racing either, feeling the pulse coursing through the thousands of veins etched throughout her muscle and skin.
He wanted to ask her if she was sure, to make her understand what she was getting herself into, but he already knew the answer, and he knew that she knew exactly what she was doing. Memories of Sarah Jane and bitter admissions floated to the surface of his mind, the way he almost told her indirectly that he loved her and was afraid to lose her because of it.
He dropped his head lower and closer to her face, and she curled one hand around his wrist. He waited to see if she was stopping him, and she wasn’t, so he continued onwards. His breath fanned her face in his own nervous stream of puffs, swallowing a lump in his throat and making his Adam’s apple bob. Her eyelids fluttered shut and so did his as he went in for the kill, finally sealing his lips against hers after what felt like eons of restraint and pining.
A soft whimper bubbled from the back of her throat, which in turn inspired a low groan from his vocal cords. They pulled at each other, desperate to get closer as fingers entwined in hair and legs looped around a waist, three hearts pounding together in tandem.
Sod it, they decided. What life is worth living if one isn’t living?