Clinging On For Life (Matt Smith)

I'm Coming Home

"There we are." Matt said, painting a blue strip across the top of the wall. I watched his t-shirt ride up, displaying muscles that lay beneath.

"I think you missed a spot." I said, angling for another glance.

"Where?" He said, leaning back a little to compare the entire wall.

"Just..." I began, pointing to a high up spot.

"Here?" Matt said, dolloping a giant splodge of blue on my cheek. I froze and stood there, looking at him with disappointment as he laughed.

"I think I've changed my mind." I said, as he painted a few more strokes still laughing.

"How so?" He sounded disinterested.

"I don't want to live with you after all." I said, picking up and taking a swig of my tea that was lying on the floor and chewing on my 4th brioche of the morning.

"In your current condition, I don't think you have much of a choice?" He said, turning and beaming at me.

"Condition?" I said. I knew exactly what he was talking about, he had spoken of very little else.

"Well, you've obviously gone insane with suppressed desire." Matt said, wrapping his arms around me. His chest was hard, yet comforting against me.

"Suppressed? It's hardly been suppressed has it?" I said, feeling my cheeks flush slightly. I brought my lips closer and closer to his as we spoke, and he traced his fingertips along my arms and across the bottom of my stomach, making me shiver.

"Charlie Howards, what am I going to do with you?" He whispered tenderly the second before our lips finally met. I breathed him in, the scent of his cologne and his shampoo, the slight sweat that was glistening on the back of his neck from the painting work and hot room, his gasps as we broke apart before going in once again.

"Well," I said as we finished. "What are you going to do with me?"

"I guess I could marry you?" He said, cheekily.

"Okay then." I said. He was beaming from ear to ear and a giggled excitedly. I realised what we had just agreed. White dresses, flowers, music, press. It all seemed so overwhelming. "We keep it small and quiet though."

"Of course." He said.

"And no overly romantic clichés. Okay?" I said, pointing a warning finger at his nose as he rubbed my stomach.

"What so no Valentine's Day wedding with seventy pastries dressed bridesmaids and someone bursting in last minute to say you can't marry me because you're already married? That kind of thing?"

"Exactly that kind of thing. Apart from the last one."

"Why? Is that likely to happen?" Matt said, looking almost worried. I laughed.

"No, it just sounds exciting."

"I'm guessing it can't be anytime soon, what with..." He motioned to my torso. I put my palm where he was motioning.

"Filming. Series Nine with Capaldi. That's going to delay it as well. So next year then?"

"Summer. In the summer." Matt said, going back to his painting.

"With a theme." I said, letting ideas wash over me.

"I thought you said quiet and nothing cliché?" Matt said, painting more the pale blue onto the walls.

"Fine, no theme. But also no shoes?" I said, sitting down on the old sofa in the middle of the room.

"Yes! No shoes!" Matt said.