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Lie still now
while I prepare for my future,
certain hard days ahead,
when I’ll need what I know so clearly this moment.
It was one of those days. Those when he felt terribly blessed while terribly sad. He couldn’t sleep.
In the beginning of their relationship, after the marriage, when everything was so fresh and bright, River was the only reason he would lay down and sleep properly. Not the quick naps he used to take before she was in his life and while she wasn‘t with him, but truly sleep until the morning (although mornings didn’t exist in the TARDIS). Eight hours of sleep… Can you imagine a Time Lord taking this much of sleep? Only River Song could handle it.
But now… Every moment beside her was a benediction and he couldn’t waste them with something as mundane as sleep. River wouldn’t be there forever. He didn’t want to think about it at that moment. It had something to do with death, and he hated endings. Especially if the conclusion wasn’t “and they lived happily forever and ever”. They wouldn’t.
At the same time, she deserved resting, after the day of adventures they had had. So he laid there, waiting, feeling the warmness of her body next to his.
“For how long?”, he wondered. “Not much”. And it was one of those days.
He reached for her cheek, fingers gentle against the soft skin. He wished he could memorize her, carve her in his brain so every time he closed his eyes, he would see her. Her honey-gold smooth skin. Her soft and amazing curls. Her kind eyes. Her bright smile. He could stare at her forever, and drown in her without fighting.
If he shut his eyes, her image was clear, but… Would it be forever? In a million years, if he could live this long, would he still remember her beauty? He wished that the answer were yes, of course, because he would love her until the end of times... Except even a Time Lord has limits: he wouldn’t remember all the details. One day, the mighty curve of her nose would be gone.
He had to do everything within his control to learn as much as possible of her, for as long as he could. Every single triviality, such as the feel of her lips against his lips, for one day when her lips would be far gone to be kissed.
But she was sleeping, so he kissed her temple instead, very gently, because he needed to memorize it too.
“Sweetie?” Her voice was sleepy and she sounded so cute that he couldn’t suppress a little smile. “Is everything okay?”
“Sure, honey. I couldn’t sleep.”
“So you had to wake me up?” Despite the accusation, she was smiling.
“Not my intention, sorry.” He laid close to her, aligning their faces.
“That’s fine, I suppose I had enough sleep.” Her fingertips traced the outline of his face. “What is the reason for those sad eyes?”
“I’m not sad.” He lied. “I’m happy. I’m lying in bed with my wife and I am happy. Everything is okay.” And to make a point, he caught the hand that wasn’t resting against his face and planted a kiss in the palm.
“I don’t believe in you.”
And then he kissed her because kissing is too a good way to hide your face; because he needed to memorize the taste of her lips and the feel of her tongue on his. Time. She tasted like time, like cinnamon, tea and a pinch of toothpaste.
His lips traveled to her neck, kissing and nipping. The Time Lords were masters in a number of arts; therefore he decided to use one of them this moment: the art of memory. He would memorize each inch of her skin, until he could feel it against his fingertips just by memory; he would be able to list all the chemicals that compose her skin, backwards and forwards; the sounds she made when she was pleasured, and the soft snore of when she was sleeping; and all the little things more that existed to be remembered.
The room, right in this moment, would stand as his idea of love. Every time he wanted to say something about love, or just felt a little bit comforted by the end of the day, from now on, he would think of that exact moment, with her smooth naked skin against his lips and her gentle fingers massaging his scalp.
His mouth kept going down until the beginning of her nightgown, tracing a trail of kisses across the top of her breasts, while one hand gently cupped one of them, massaging for a little while before making her sit to take out her nightgown, and them laying her down again, gaining access to her naked breasts. He kissed them too, flavoring the salty taste of her sweat, making her moan softly and her hands to travel down his back.
His hands, on the meanwhile, were already firm on her hips, pinning her to the bed, and then down to her thighs, gently caressing them. The warmness of her against this palms were like heaven. His fingers, carefully, traced the outline of her knickers. Her hips unconsciously lifted, pressing herself against him, seeking a touch that he was delaying to give to her. The Doctor grinned softly at her, hooking one finger in her underwear and putting it down.
Then, he lowered himself down between her legs, eyes full of promises. On her eyes, he could see it too: lust and promises. Although the whole sex situation, there was kindness on them. Love. They weren’t young anymore, trying to get rid of a scratch, trying to pass some time. Laid to their matrimonial bed, he was making love to her. He was trying to show all his devotion, to love her the way she deserved to be loved. Of course, he was desirous for her, who wouldn’t be?, but it was more than just this.
First, his mouth kissed the soft skin of her inner things, the tip of his tongue tracing a path to the place where she wanted him the most. She lifted her hips, trying to get him there. When he finally licked her sex, wet and trembling for him, was like something exploded inside his brain. Her taste on his tongue, rich and heavy, made his head spin.
He licked around her folds very carefully, attempting to remind her taste, to learn the chemical composition of her fluids. She shrived bellow him, moaning loudly, her hand picking his hair almost painfully. He shoved his tongue into her opening, stroking her throbbing walls.
He continued his ministration until she was just a hot mess bellow him, quivering and moaning his name. For the grand finale, his tongue gently nudged her pulsating clit, lavishing it, while he inserted two long fingers on her opening, curving them to brush against her g point.
It was enough. She blacked-out, screaming something he couldn’t understand. The sight of her almost made him come on his pants and almost made his hearts stop. He laid his head on her belly, breathing the scent of her skin, to wait until she was recovered. There, he felt like he belonged. He kissed her belly button and traced with his tongue the few freckles he could find on her honeyed skin.
“God” She sighed when she had enough breath for.
“Not God. The Doctor.” He smiled, lying beside her. “You should know, after all these years of marriage.”
Instead of answering his playful appointment, she just stared him, drowning herself in his eyes. He did the same, making mental notes about the exact color of her iris and the size of her eyelashes.
Every detail of her was a star in his personal universe, and everything together was the most beautiful constellation he has ever seen (and trust him, he had seen a lot of them).
“Sweetie, you’re still fully dressed.” She said softly, tracing the buttons of his pajamas, her leg intertwined with his and her head on his shoulder.
“Well, I had priorities in the moment.” He grinned while she already was unbuttoning and pushing his shirt. Her lips pressed on his and when their tongues met, he knew she could taste herself on it. Against his chest, her hands were warm and traveling south, tracing the line of his trousers. She nipped at his jaw and one hand cupped him down there, making him squirm.
She worked on putting his trousers and underwear down, freeing his erection. His hands were wandering all over her body, unable to concentrate on just one point. His brain was also a mess, too overcome with her beauty and talented fingers to think straight. She was gently caressing his shaft, massaging the tip with the palm of her hand to go down until the root all of sudden and then back to the tip.
But he was too aroused to last for long, so quickly he stopped her, taking her wrist with trembling fingers. “River… Please…” She just smiled, putting a leg on each side of his body, sitting on his lap far too close to his cock. She lowered her body to kiss him while lifting her hips up to position herself over him. He unconsciously closed his eyes, waiting for the moment.
With her tongue inside his mouth and his cock slowly being engulfed by her heat, he truly thought he would die in this moment, trapped between the mattress and her arms. He couldn’t die happier.
Soon she started moving on his lap, crushing her hips with him. He forced himself to open his eyes and was gifted with her sight. The soft light behind her made her curls shine as if they have their own light. Her eyes were close in pleasure, and her bottom lip was trapped by her teeth while she tried to retain a moan. Her hands were against his chest, balancing herself, and her breasts looked like the most delicious thing in the entire existence. He couldn’t refrain the necessity of grabbing them, of feeling their heaviness in his hands.
The feel of her around his cock was almost too much to handle. She felt silky and wet, with just the right amount of tightness. Suddenly, he urged to turn them around and pound into her like there was no tomorrow. And so he did.
Because he loved her and wanted to show it to her. Because he needed control to concentrate and memorize the electricity of their skins together; to take mental notes on every soft sound that she made and every rough one as well. So he put his arms around her and rotated them, pressing her body against the mattress, earning a yelp of surprise from her.
She was almost there, he could feel. His fingers searched for her clit, pressing it gently, while the other hand was in her hair and his mouth, on her neck, biting at her skin to then lavish the place with his hot tongue.
“Come for me, honey.” He whispered in her ear, his voice low and deep. “Please, I want to feel you. I need to, River. Come for me. The feel of you around me is almost too much, honey. You’re perfect. I love you. Please, please… Come for me.” He was close too, but he wanted to last until she got her satisfaction.
And then she came with a scream, the sound muffled by the Doctor’s mouth on hers. He followed right after her, and everything went blank and soundless around him. For seconds or hours, he couldn’t tell exactly, everything was resumed to her. Her taste, her scent, her love-cries. His eyes were blind to anything else than her shape, her eyes, her lips. He was sure he was drowning because his chest fell weirdly empty and strangely full of something else.
The universe evaporated from existence, and River became the entire universe. He vanished too, engulfed by her greatness.
And suddenly, he was back in existence, and everything else was there too. River was gently petting his hair, laid by his side. “Yowza” was the only thing we could say.
“Yowza indeed.” She giggled, nuzzling her face on his neck, and he embraced her. Soon, she was peacefully sleeping again, with a little smile of satisfaction on her beautiful face.
Finally, he let himself be lulled to sleep by her breath on her neck and her hearts beating against his own. “She is alive.” He repeated to himself. Alive, alive and alive. Hot and alive on his bed, and he must treasure it for as long as he had it.
But he was sure that, if someday he needed to rethink about love, it would be about this night, this room and this woman. River was his synonym for love and, he was now sure of it, he could never, ever, forget what love for him was.
And one day, when I need
to tell myself something intelligent
about love,
I’ll close my eyes
and recall this room and everything in it:
My body is estrangement.
This desire, perfection.
Your closed eyes my extinction.