Tempted to Touch
Playful teasing and familiar chaos beneath alien stars slowly begins to shift into something softer, charged with unspoken feelings and quiet longing as you coax The Doctor into a confession with an unscrupulous method.
Fluff, Slight Crack fic, Did I say fluff? because theres lots of it.
Word Count: 3.3k
The Doctor was handsy, far more handsy than the average human being you were led to believe. Sometimes you would chalk It up to him being from a completely different civilisation with completely different societal norms and values, but other times you felt as though it was something completely specific to him and only him.
You had noticed the way he’d hug someone out of pure glee or unadulterated excitement, or how he’d rest his hand absentmindedly on someone’s shoulder. Just another one of his peculiar quirks you assumed and you had grown to absolutely love those little quirks of his. The way he’d perk an eyebrow up whenever something had caught his attention, or the way he’d stick his tongue out while he tried to concentrate on a task he needed to complete. The way he’d run his hands through his already tousled hair and tug at his roots when his brain was moving far too quickly for him to follow. The way he’d pout when he was genuinely confused or disappointed, the way he could prattle on and on endlessly about something he wanted to explain to you. The Doctor was a man of a thousand words and yet still, when it came to you it was as if he struggled to find them. He knew over eight billion languages and he was completely unable to articulate the simplest things when they involved you.
It was almost funny, watching a being who could and had negotiated peace treaties between warring nations stumble over his words- and sometimes his feet- whenever you smiled at him for too long. His hands, though, never really seemed to have that problem. They had a tendency to speak for him when his mouth couldn’t. A tentative nudge to carefully guide you out of danger. Fingers curling around your wrist to keep you securely tethered to him while you ran and hid. A palm pressed to the small of your back whenever his hackles were up and he needed to usher you behind him or back into the TARDIS, you had a sneaking suspicion that those actions were simply to ground himself rather than to steer you.
Those suspicions only arose when it had stopped being indiscriminate, as at some point his hands began to linger longer on you than anyone else.
There were touches that should have been fleeting, that would now stretch into something more deliberate. His thumb tracing slow circles against the joints of your knuckles while he’d hold your hand, forgetting or rather neglecting to drop it after he had led you somewhere. The way he’d suddenly seek out your presence on the TARDIS and sit impossibly close to you, thigh to thigh as he explained what he had been up to for the last couple of hours. He never really seemed to be too aware of what he’d done in the moment, only realising after he had already done it and pulling away far too late, pulling away when you had grown accustomed to his touch and would begin to mourn its loss.
You wondered if he knew.
If he knew that every casual, passing touch thrusted your heart against your sternum, as if it was protesting not being cradled by his own hands. If he knew that your breath hitched, as if the universe itself had taken your breath away. That when he hugged you, properly hugged you, with his arms wrapped around you tightly and his hearts thumping against you, that your skin began to buzz and tingle after he had let go. That you were tempted to grab on to him and plant yourself into his very being, to be eternally woven into him, an unbreaking fibre of all-encompassing love.
Sometimes, if you were lucky, you would also catch him staring, his brown eyes soft and distant, as if he was seeing every possible version of you across time and space all at once. Whenever you met his gaze, he would give you a coy smile, small and almost ashamed to have been caught in the act. This was one of those moments, when you were fortunate enough to have caught him.
“Doctor?”
You called out into the silence, breaking the stillness of the night.
Eyes snapping back into focus, you grinned, fighting the urge to reach out to him. Fighting away your temptations. Feigning concern, you continued.
“Where have you gone this time Starboy? It’s a bit hard to keep up a conversation if only one of us is doing the talking, you know.”
He blinked, once- twice- like a man resurfacing from deep, deep water.
“Mm?”
The sound escaped him before he could procure an excuse; however, it was followed quickly by that familiar, cheeky grin. All charm and deflection.
“Sorry. Sorry. I was just-thinking. You know, about Barcelona. Suarez, Ronaldinho, Messi, that lot”
A complete lie, he always said that he was ‘thinking’ when what he had really meant was that he had been feeling too much.
“Barcelona? The football club?”
You questioned, disguising your amusement. Before he lost concentration you both had been conversing about Barcelona, yes- but not Barcelona the football club. Barcelona the Spanish municipality.
“Starboy? the slightly offensive title?”
He echoes, mock-offended, placing a hand over his chest as though he had been gravely wounded.
“I’ll have you know that I am a Star-man, given the fact that I am technically older than the human drive to reach said stars, which was, in and of itself, a pretty ambitious feat for your people to have accomplished so early, you know. Reaching for the stars and actually getting there.” He paused, then added quickly, “I am not trying to create a diversion by the way. I wouldn’t do that.”
He finished lamely, gesturing vaguely upwards as if the stars themselves would crashing down to vouch for him. Tearing your scrutinising yet playful gaze away from him, you laughed softly, the sound carrying easily in the quiet field you were both laying in.
“You do realise that we were talking about going to Barcelona, right? Not watching them play on the telly” you pressed, your eyebrow quirking in a way that told him that you didn’t believe a single word of it.
He faltered- just for a fraction of a second, yet still long enough.
“Well- yes! Obviously,”
He said far too quickly, not helping his own case at all. You could even confidently say that The Doctor was incredibly flustered at having been caught in the act. Oh, the horror.
Shaking your head, you peeked at him from the corner of your eyes, he was looking away now it seemed, trying to focus elsewhere lest he lose control of his own eyes once more.
“Where do you go when you do that?”
You asked, completely aware of the fact that you were only asking for a verbal confirmation, for your own satisfaction. Without turning his head, he tore his gaze from the sky above and looked at you from the corners of his eyes.
“Do what?” he whispered, suddenly nervous about where this conversation might lead.
Turning to face him, you took a deep breath, steeling your voice as much as you could physically muster.
“When you stare at me. You don’t do it often but I’ve caught you in the act enough to become curious about it. Do Time Lords have x-ray vision too and you’re actually a bit of a perv?” you deadpanned, trying to sell your faux-seriousness as convincingly as possible.
The Doctor bristled. You could practically feel his blood run hot as his eyes widened and his brows shot up to his hairline, five hundred trillion tonnes of stress promptly piling onto his very being at the accusation.
“What? No- of course not- absolutely not! I would never do that. I’m not that sort of man, I mean I- no! definitely not! “
Cutting him off, you rolled over with a rather hearty laugh, clutching your stomach as you playfully swatted him on the shoulder.
“Relax! I was only having a laugh with you, spaceman.”
Your consolation was abruptly ended as your body surrendered to another bout of laughter. You could feel his accusatory gaze rake across you as it racked through your body, leaving you a heaving mess of howling and giggling. You really did enjoy taking the piss sometimes; his oh-so-expressive face made his reactions even funnier than anticipated almost every single time.
The Doctor slowly turned to face you, gears turning in his head as he formulated the greatest act of revenge.
“Oohhh, so you think it’s nice to poke fun at me, don’t you?”
He purred; his face concealed in the shadows of the night. Wiping a tear from your eye, you sniffed as you looked away.
“Oh, I certainly do, in fact, I think I quite enjoy it. It’s one of the greatest pleasures the universe could offer me.”
You beamed, still reeling in the aftermath of your teasing. Completely ignorant to the unadulterated act of terrorism that was about to befall your poor, unfortunate soul.
“Is it?”
Those two words were the last to leave his mouth before he leapt into action and planted himself on top of you. The Doctor swiftly began attacking your oh-so-sensitive sides- something he had learnt about after you had grown impossibly warm when he had grabbed you by the waist as you both slid down a waste chute on Curdron-3 -in a well-planned tickle attack. His nimble fingers adeptly shuffled, poked and prodded at the most vulnerable spots amongst your sides, while you wailed, shrieked and cried for mercy at this unprecedented act of great evil.
You squirmed beneath him as you tried your best to seek some way out of his evil grip, praying to the stars that he would relent as you screamed out your surrender. Stopping for a moment, The Doctor peered down at you, hands falling to his sides.
“Are you going to stop teasing me?”
He asked, eyes widening at the end of his sentence while he looked down at you over his nose, almost as if he dared you to say no. You had to have known that with the position you were in you really had no choice other than to agree with him. Unfortunately for you, your defiant spirit insisted on doing otherwise.
“Never!”
You bellowed in resistance, shaking your head as tears streamed down your cheeks. The Doctor merely nodded his head in mock understanding as he slowly -menacingly- raised his hands, gearing up for another attack. No sooner had you puffed your cheeks full of air than he began yet another relentless assault: up and down your sides, over your stomach, beneath your armpits, across the sides of your neck. He was ruthless in his strategies, pulling more and more screams from the very bottom of your stomach.
“You will!”
“I won’t!”
“You shall!”
“I shan’t!”
“You must!”
“I will never!” you retorted.
You both carried on back and forth, neither calling it quits. However, you were so busy with being stuck in an ongoing cycle of torment that you barely noticed how his grin had widened into an earnest smile, forcing the crow’s-feet that lay hidden in his skin to surface at the corners of those brown eyes you oh so adored, gleaming at you in the moonlight, completely enthralled by your beauty and joy. How his fingers would linger on your skin for a fraction of a second longer than necessary as he made his rounds.
“I’ll nev- er stop teasing you for as long as I live! I’d sooner die than stop! You are my doctor and you are mine to tease for- for as long as iiiiii wish! Never!! You can tickle me until I diiiie but I will tease you even after I’ve slipped off somewhere into nothingness!!”
You howled, shaking your head and kicking your feet beneath him, thrashing about until you finally managed to grab onto his tie, distracting him for long enough to finally wrestle him off of you and over onto his back. He would never admit that he had simply allowed it.
Sitting on top, your hair was now a disorganised mess, a complete juxtaposition to what it had resembled mere minutes earlier. Planting your feet at his sides, you grabbed his offending hands with each of yours and bound them together above his head with the tie you had ripped loose from his neck during your momentary scuffle. Reaching up to try and tame your stray hairs with the palms of your hands, your bosom heaved as you finally managed to suck in a few steady breaths, nerves still tingling in the aftermath of his onslaught.
“You wicked man! I’ll have you know that I almost soiled myself!”
Pouting, the doctor rolled his eyes, fully knowing he would have been able to force an agreement of sorts out of you before your bladder had lost its fight with your will.
Playfully baring your teeth at him, you reached down to tug at his freckled cheeks, you’d sit there and trace your fingers across every single one if he’d let you, you thought.
Finally, you were the one who had all the power and The Doctor had no choice but to accept the punishment you were about to dish out.
“What shall I do with you, you wretched creature?”
You mused, thoroughly enjoying both the contact and the view.
“You could…let me go?” he tried. “We’re great friends, aren’t we? I think we are. So surely, as my friend, you must be privy to second chances? You could forget my transgressions and I could forgive your relentless teasing? Isn’t that a human saying? Forgive and forget? I’m pretty sure it is!”
He prattled on, far more aware of how precarious the new position was- not that he minded, of course.
Tilting your head, you lifted a hand to brush a few stray hairs out of his face. You were becoming braver by the second, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
“You’re rambling, Doctor.” You breathed, your eyes darting down to meet his own.
“Sorry.”
He whispered bashfully.
The light of the new moon finally peeking through the clouds, illuminating his face clearly enough for you to finally notice the red hue dusting his cheeks and ears.
“I do have one or two legitimate questions for you though, and unfortunately for you I’m not getting off of you until I’m satisfied with all of your answers.”
“Can’t you untie me first?” He whined, shuffling around underneath you as he did.
“Well, I won’t- and you aren’t really in any position to make demands right now” you consoled, patting him on the cheek as you did.
Raising a hand to your chin, your thumb pressed thoughtfully against it as you began to organise your questions.
“Firstly, why do you stare at me like that? Like, actually. I am curious to hear your reasoning. It doesn’t weird me out or anything like that, I just want to know” you inquired.
Breaking eye contact, The Doctor tore his gaze away from your face and looked to the stars. Exhaling slowly through his nostrils, he answered,
“I can’t help it.”
You narrowed your eyes at him as you settled yourself more securely on top of him. He’d need to be far more precise if he wanted you off him anytime soon, although you secretly preferred if he kept giving you what you claimed were ‘unsatisfactory’ answers. Unbeknownst to you, he felt the same.
“Not good enough.”
You asserted.
“But that’s all I’ve got!” he moaned pitifully.
“Still not good enough. I know you’ve got more in that massive brain of yours! You’re able to talk yourself out of conflicts literally all the time- so try and talk yourself into freedom”
You insisted. He was going to pour his heart out to you tonight whether he liked it or not. You were going to settle on the former however, as you knew of the raw strength this man possessed, and the fact that he even allowed you to remain atop him was a good indication that he hadn’t minded at all. That he was allowing himself to be held ‘captive’ and ‘interrogated’. Huffing, he finally looked back at you as he continued.
“That’s the thing though, I quite literally cannot help it. It’s as if my body and mind work against my own will once you’ve settled in my sights, if that makes any sense at all. I don’t know!”
You remained silent, urging him to carry on with a subtle, coercive tilt of your head.
“I just- I like looking, I enjoy it. I like looking at you because it’s a lot easier to give into that temptation without any of the guilt or shame of the other thing. Shit”
Narrowing your eyes, you planted both of your hands at the sides of his face as you lowered yourself down.
“What temptations, Doctor? What other thing?” you pressed.
His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed deeply, eyes squeezing shut tightly, he finally blurted out what you’d been wanting to hear.
“Sometimes I feel tempted to touch you, I don’t know! I thought I was being obvious! It’s not the easiest thing to hide given that when my skin touches your skin there’s this whole thing that happens when the mechanoreceptors in your skin turns the pressure from mine into nerve signals sent to your somatosensory cortex and- “
You cut him off by pressing your lips to his.
It wasn’t hot or needy, and it wasn’t really meant to shut him up. You just wanted to tell him that you understood in the only way that truly felt right. Words would have never been able to sufficiently convey your feelings. With your free hand, you deftly untied the secure knot you had made, freeing his hands.
Almost immediately, The Doctor grabbed you by the hips and rolled you over, planting himself on top of you instead.
Oh- how the tables turn.
By the time the pair of you had finally parted for air, you were both a dishevelled mess. His hair askew, more so than usual, face reddened and his palms sweaty, tie lost somewhere amongst you both. Your hair lay strewn about in every which way, skin buzzing with excitement, shirt completely uprooted from the tussling about.
Reaching up to tug his collar back into place, you slowly trailed your hand to his face, cupping his cheek as you gave him a tender look. His larger hand enveloped yours as he traced a circle into the space between your thumb and index finger, leaning into your palm. You could feel him trembling slightly, was he always this nervous or was it only when it came to you?
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” you admitted, a slight airiness to your tone.
The Doctor looked at you with the reverence of a man before his god then lowered himself until his forehead met yours, nudging your nose softly with his own.
“As have I”
He confessed, rolling over to lay beside you while keeping your hand locked within his own.
You sat in silence for a few minutes, absorbing everything that had happened in the moment’s past. Tearing your gaze away from the stars, you turned your head to look at him, only to catch him already staring at you once again. Breaking into a grin, you tugged your hands upwards, giving him a tender kiss on his knuckles.
“Well, now you can give into temptation all you want, I surely don’t mind” you encouraged quietly, giving your consent.
Grinning even wider than he had been before, he tugged you over, enveloping you in a hug. This planet had long nights and you two would have so much much much more to discuss.
