taleya | Doctor Who Fic - An Extremely Bad Idea

To paraphrase a certain someone: it's porn night!

Title: An extremely bad idea
Author:

taleya
Rating: NC-17. I suppose.
Pairing: Fifth/Turlough/Fifth/Turlough/Fifth...LOOK WILL YOU TWO STOP ROLLING AROUND?
Summary: Eh, call it PWP. :P An idea in my head that made me laugh, and had to be done.
Warnings: None. Unless you're concerned about the sanctity of the TARDIS console.

"This is a terrible idea you know," the Doctor shrugged out of his coat and tossed it carelessly on the console floor behind him.

"Yes." Turlough's hands were loosening his tie, quicksilver movements of slender fingers below blue eyes that never left his face.

"It can never work," his jumper followed his coat, the motion awkward, a little hurried with need.

"Oh, I know." A shrug of the shoulders, black jacket following the motion to whisper to the ground.

"We shouldn't be doing this at all."

"No."

And then his arms were full of a warm body, willing, rising up to catch it, to hold it, hands sliding around that blue shirt and tightening around the narrow form even as his lips sought and found their target. Hands rose up to plunge through his hair, nails scraping slightly against the skin of his scalp as a black-clad groin ground against his own for a heated instant, making his knees tremble and plimsolled feet skid a little against the smooth white floor. His hands slid lower, clenching the other man's backside almost brutally as he pulled them closer together, almost into one being, random neurons sparking and firing wildly in his brain as they tottered backwards, the feel of the console edging against his spine.

The Doctor pulled reluctantly away from the kiss, hands busy tugging at the redhead's waistband, pulling his shirt free at the waist. The hands in his hair tightened, pulling his head back as a warm mouth latched onto the side of his throat and his eyes rolled back with an involuntary moan at the feeling. "You'd never know whether we were coming or going, and I'd always get you into terrible danger," he gasped.

"mrf." Turlough agreed around a mouthful of ear.

"And I won't be able to promise you safety," The Doctor's hands scrabbled at the buttons of the younger man's shirt, fingers fumbling over, then tearing the buttons from their threads as he pulled at the thin material, an odd pinging noise as one bounced off the recall indicator.

"You never have," the words slid into a gasp as his mouth nipped and suckled at the pale flesh revealed, hands spasming and fluttering, clawing huge fistfuls of his shirt from his back.

"And...and..." The Doctor grabbed the younger man around the waist and with a grunt of effort heaved him up onto a less-cluttered section of the console. "We'd never have a settled home of our own, nowhere to rest our feet, flapping through the cosmos of space and time - " he struggled with his braces for a moment before ripping them off and tossing them over his shoulder, hands clawing at the crotch of his striped trousers as eager fingers dove to help. "- nothing but the TARDIS and our wits..."

He shoved his pants to the floor and the hands fisted in his hair again, pulling him closer, dragging him down. "Fine by me."

"And there's....good lord...quite a few cultures where our relationship..." - a squeak - "...would be more than frowned upon - " That sinful mouth nipped and suckled at his collarbone, hands pawing at his sides, wandering, exploring, stroking his stomach, his hips, stroking boldly against his crotch with an assurance that was driving him mad.

"Always getting into trouble." Turlough laughed, the sound breathless and light as the Doctor grasped his wrists in firm hands, pressing them back, over his head, either side of the time rotor. He arched up, eyes fluttering and colour rising high in his cheeks as lips worked their way down his throat, across his chest, his belly, hands scrabbling and clutching at the smooth glass-like exterior of the rotor for purchase.

"We'd have to be very discreet - mind the helmic regulators." The Doctor shifted them to the side a bit, away from delicate circuitry and then bit savagely at the button of Turlough's trousers, spitting the small plastic circle to one side as he scrabbled at the material, pulling the black trousers away and hurling them to land somewhere near the exterior doors.

"soul...of discretion..." Turlough's voice sounded thick, choked, a high pitched keening noise building in the back of his throat as the Doctor pressed down on top of him, against him, all smooth skin and nimble fingers, fine blonde hair and moist lips, heat against his crotch, grinding, pushing. He gripped the time rotor with his palms, then wrenched himself up, head falling back and gasping as the Doctor nipped at the side of his throat, pushing against the Time Lord, nails raking at his shoulders and sending them both to the floor. Lips against his, sucking the air from his lungs, soft body cushioning his fall.

"So you see..." the Doctor gasped, thrusting upwards, nails digging into the Trion's buttocks, pulling, grinding. "This is a very bad idea..."

"yes," Turlough's knees were bruising against the hard white floor, his hips, his back as they rolled across it and he didn't care, hands clenching hard enough to leave marks as he clutched at the other man's shoulders, lips swollen and stomach tightening as they rocked harder, faster. "A very...very...bad..."

"- idea!"

And for quite a while afterwards, they were content to sprawl on the floor.

Current Mood: amused
Current Location: Pigpen