Yowzah Oneshot Collection (1)

133(M)

                    Conjugal Visit
             
                   *bendingwind*

“Oh, hell, wrong place, wrong time,” he babbles as he stumbles out of his TARDIS. She stares at him, mouth agape with shock, as he spins around and starts to disappear back into his blue box. “Sorry about that, I’ll just be going then!”

“Doctor!” she manages to get out. “What--stop, get back here!” He nearly manages to get away, but the TARDIS slows her doors and River just manages to grab him by the back of his jacket and yank him back into her cell at Stormcage. She sends a quiet thanks to the time machine.

“This is meant to be the Sky Gardens of Nebuchadnezzar, 3867, but it seems unusually dark and damp and also it is clearly your prison cell, which means I am in the wrong place,” he continues to gush as she spins him around to face her.

“The Sky Gardens froze over in 3864,” she points out, dryly, “I’m afraid they wouldn’t have been of much interest even if you had ended up in the right place and time.”

“Well, maybe I wanted to see them frozen!” he protests, as she winds her fingers through his bowtie and begins to loosen it.

“You hate cold weather,” she responds, as his bowtie falls to the floor.

“Only sometimes! I’m sure there would have been... something redeemingly interesting... River, what are you doing?” he demands, as her nimble fingers continue down his shirt, unfastening the buttons with ease.

“Undressing you,” she responds, all nonchalance and wicked, warm fingers as she tugs his shirt from his trousers. She trails her fingernails across his stomach and moves to unsnap his braces. “These are very inconvenient, perhaps you ought to try a belt,” she says, as she unsnaps the other side.

“I--I really should get going, things to do, people to--”

“I’m not sending you to freeze in the sky gardens without giving you a little warmth, first,” she interrupts, glancing up at him and licking her lips.

“Oh,” he says, and his blush deepens even more. She hooks her fingers neatly around the waist of his trousers and pulls him towards her bed. A gentle push to his shoulders sits him down, and she lowers herself to straddle his lap.

“Where are we, my love?” she asks, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss against his lips. He stares at her, endearingly (but not particularly attractively) cross-eyed, and she smiles and presses a second kiss against his nose. “Have you done Berlin, yet?”

“I just came from the planet with the bells,” he mumbles, his voice gone a little squeaky and hoarse.

“Good,” she says, sliding his jacket and shirt off his shoulders in a single, smooth motion. She presses a kiss against the dip between his neck and collarbone. He flails a little before settling his large hands on her hips, and she shimmies closer to him. “You know who I am, then,” she whispers into his neck, “Good.”

He’s still so young and still so easy to fluster, she finds as she guides his hands to the straps of her shirt. He pulls them down, eyes darting about as if he can’t quite decide where to look first, and she can’t quite fight back a giggle. His fingers trail up her sides and his hands come to cup her breasts, oh, just the way she likes. Heat pools in her belly and she sighs with pleasure. It’s been a bit longer than she likes to consider.

“We’ve done this before, then,” she breathes. He nods his assent, and she can almost see the awkward nervousness draining out of him.

This time, he is the one that leans forward to engage her in a kiss. More properly, she realizes as his tongue brushes against her lips and she opens her mouth to let him in, a snog.

“Mmmm, this is nice,” she mumbles, trailing fingernails down his chest to unsnap his trousers.

“Is it?” he asks, “Also, what are you...”

“I’m allowed my conjugal visits,” she whispers, and she bites down gently on his bottom lip with a chuckle.

“A--a what?! River, we’re in your cell, anyone might see--!”

“Let them,” she growls, leaning forward as she works his trousers and pants down just enough to slip a hand around his cock. He groans as she caresses the delicate skin there.

“River--” he gasps, “I’m supposed to be taking a friend to the sky gardens, what if he comes out to see where I’ve gone--”

“I’m sure he’ll sit just fine. And I already told you--it’s cold in the sky gardens.”

“Mmmph,” he manages to reply, as she releases his cock to tug his pants lower, and neatly slides her own trousers down to her thighs.

“You’re such hard work young,” she growls into his ear, before sliding him into her.

He--of all the ridiculous things--giggles.

“Someone is going to see us and there will be gossip and oh, it’s just like that Christmas song this is ridiculous really River--”

She thrusts against him, and he stops giggling.

“Baby, it’s cold outside,” she drawls with a wink, and they both giggle again. “It is--” she thrusts again, eliciting a gasp from him “--ridiculous, but--” another thrust, a quiet moan “--very, very nice--” this time, his eyelids flutter closed “--wouldn’t you say, my love?”

He doesn’t seem able to form a coherent reply as she rides him. Perhaps a guard walks by on his regular rotation, perhaps he doesn’t; they’re both too wound up in the motions of their bodies, skin against slick skin and fingers trailing across flesh to notice. River can feel the TARDIS behind her, humming her approval and circulating time so that the boy tagging along with the Doctor doesn’t come looking and interrupt them.

She can almost hear the smug whisper, I take him where he needs to go.

She closes her eyes when the bliss roles over her and doesn’t scream (he’s so, so young, and she’s almost afraid she’ll frighten him), and a moment later he bucks against her with a funny sort of whimper-moan. It’s very endearing, though not nearly as sexy as the things they will do together someday, and she rests her forehead against his.

“Was it as good for you as it was for me?” he gasps, in that throaty voice he uses when she’s utterly worn him out. She presses another kiss against his nose.

“It was very nice, sweetie. I’ll break you in yet.”

“What?!” he sputters, as she climbs delicately off of him.

“Now, didn’t you say you had a frozen sky garden to visit?”

“What--no, you can’t just imply that I’m bad at sex and send me off to freeze!” he protests, scrambling after her in an adorably ungainly manner.

“I can if I like,” she teases, poking her tongue out a little, “but I have to admit, the sky gardens are very cold. Would you rather stay here with me and practice a lot more?”

He growls and launches himself at her, and if it’s not altogether that sexy, well... he’ll get better.