Show/Ship- Doctor Who. Ten/Rose.
Genre- Fluff / mini smuttish
Prompt- #16 Shave
Disclaimer- No harm has come to D.I. Carlisle. He's happy. really.
Summary- The Doctor has a little problem with his new face. Rose thinks she can lend a hand. Pity it's brandishinga razor.
A/N- Happy!Who fic. I'm blaming everyone else but me for this one. I was going to do fluffy and it came out a little less sweet and a little more heated than i planned (and longer). Not.my.fault.
It was the loud noise that drew her to the strange door in the first place, but it was the cursing that made her stay.
It wasn’t Earth swearing but it was familiar.
Not familiar as in TARDIS translated, but familiar as in “I’ve heard that coming from under the TARDIS console when he’s accidentally re-routed the temporal shifter to the shower.”
Rose grinned to herself at the memory of wet, naked, soapy Time Lord materialising all over the ship.
But the smile soon faded.
No cheeky grin and satellite ears with self-conscious red tips as he attempted to cover himself with a small flannel which really wasn’t up to the job.
No daft grin and embarrassed flush as he told her not to look for the soap.
A rather large, long, anatomically impossible curse prompted Rose to move to the door, the recollection of the Doctor telling her exactly what he’d just said coming back to the fore.
She’d have to remind him that even with nine limbs, that one was hard.
It was actually quite comforting to realise that the Doctor still swore with the same phrases, even if they were in Gallifreyan.
Damn it! It had been over a week. You’d have thought that she’d be able to say his name without stumbling over it
There was silence and she tried again.
“Doctor, are you all right?”
She frowned over the almost sheepish tones of the dismembered voice. “No, it’s the Avon Lady.” Who else would it be?
“Ah. Tell her we don’t want any.”
Rose leaned her ear to the door. “Seriously, you okay in there?”
“Yep. Yes. Fine. Extra fine. Fantastic even.”
She rolled her eyes. “So the swearing was what? Gallifreyan morning ritual? Wake up, have coffee, insult twelve species before breakfast?”
Before he could answer, something clicked in Rose’s head.
Insult twelve species.
She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle the grin that tried to edge its way out. “Doctor, did you cut yourself shaving again?”
There was a long pause of pained silence and the door swung open to reveal a petulant Doctor, a razor in one hand and several pieces of tissue stuck to his face.
“It’s not my fault!” he whined. “New face, new lines, new designer stubble. It gets tougher with each regeneration you know. I’m terrified one day I’ll wake up like the Pennimetk’s who tie their children to their facial hair.”
“No children,” Rose giggled. “Just tissue.”
He pouted, eyes gleaming with mirth.
It wasn’t the lost puppy-dog eyes, or the bashful grin, the tousled hair (although that did help) or the half-unbuttoned shirt that made her cave.
It was the tiny embarrassed flush on his cheeks. A flush that was sweet, familiar and whispered over her heart.
“Come here,” she said with a sigh and took the razor off him. Pushing him back into the bathroom and ignoring the startled expression on his face, she perched herself on the table top next to the sink and pulled him in between her knees.
Taking a towel, she gently wiped his face clear of bits of tissue and dried blood and then reached for the shaving cream.
After slathering it between her hands she started to smooth it over his jaw line and down his neck, her fingers dancing over the warm flesh, ensuring that she got it on evenly.
So intent was she on her work that she was surprised when she looked up to see the intense look on the Doctor’s face.
It was a look that she was familiar with, having seen it before on the other Doctor’s face many times.
It was the look he’d given her before telling her that he was so glad he’d met her.
It was the look he’d given her right before announcing to her mother that he could save the world but lose her.
It was the look he gave her whenever emotions ran high, and even in another’s body it made her breath catch and her heart pound in her throat.
But it was another body.
A new body. And she just wasn’t ready to deal with it.
She looked away quickly. “So you were saying you’ve had, what, 900 years and eight regenerations?”
“Ten,” he corrected, allowing her the distance. “This’ll be my tenth.”
“Ten new faces and still can’t get the hang of shaving!” She grinned at him. “But, on the plus side, at least you’re not ginger!”
“Oi!” he protested. “I’ve always wanted to be ginger. 900 years, brown gets a bit boring. Of course blond was fun. ”
“I know!” Rose waggled her eyebrows at him and sat back to survey her handiwork. The bottom of his face was covered in a thin layer of shaving cream making him look like a mixture of Doctor and cream cake. His Adam’s apple enticing her to lean down and lick it.
Rose put that image out of her head straight away.
She picked up the razor and he leaned in closer, tilting his head back.
Rose paused and he gave her a look. “What?”
“You trust me to do this? Put a razor blade near your throat?”
“Of course!” He gave her a broad grin. “If you slash my throat my next regeneration could be ginger.”
Rose’s stomach felt hollow “That’s not funny.”
“Right. Imagine not.”
She nodded, accepting his unspoken apology and brandished the razor, tilting his head this way and that before starting with a long stroke from under his chin, following the contour of his jaw line.
With a delicate tap, she knocked the excess cream off the razor and swished the blade in the water in the sink. She looked back and gave him a small smile as she raised his head and did the other side.
Sensing that the atmosphere could get a little more uncomfortable if she continued to do this in silence, Rose wracked her brains for something to say.
“If you’ve done this ten times now, surely it gets easier?”
“Not really,” he said, his mouth hardly moving as she negotiated the curve of his face. “The skin changes as well, one regeneration can have sensitive skin and have to use special shaving foam whilst another can have really leathery skin. Makes shopping for toiletries hard, I tell you.”
Rose laughed. “I can imagine you going to Boots and telling them you have no idea your skin type cuz you’ve only had it a few days.”
“They were quite helpful that time,” he muttered causing her to break off into peels of laughter imagining the poor bemused sales girl.
“Ever just let go and grew a beard?”
“No!” He looked horrified. “On some worlds facial hair is considered next to royalty and on others it’s considered seditious. I think I get in enough trouble as it is.”
“True.” She stuck her tongue between her teeth as she concentrated. “I guess that’s why you smell different to the old you.”
Rose realised she had spoken out loud and blushed. “Nothing.”
She reached to swish the razor and he caught her hand, looking at her deeply.
She sighed. “You don’t smell like him anymore. I though it was just the clothes and all—” She waved her hand to encompass everything. “But you smell different too.”
“Is that bad?”
Rose shrugged. “Just means that you don’t remind me of him so much but it’s still a bit hard to get used to him being you.” She gave him a small glare. “Might have been easier if you’d mentioned it, ya know, maybe once.”
“Run for your life, by the way one day I might turn into a different person, that all right?”
“Sort of, yeah,” she said without thinking and they both stared at each other in shock before bursting out laughing.
He reached up to play with an ear in a distracted way and she smiled to herself at the new mannerism that was becoming familiar.
That word again.
She shook her head and touched his chin again, calling his attention back to her and hers back to the task at hand.
Rose set about her task, her deft fingers sliding over the delicate bones of his jaw and, as the sharp metal glittered in her hand, the thick white foam was lifted to reveal wet, clean, soft male.
Not soft in the way that she was soft, even in this incarnation soft was not something that you could apply to the Doctor. But soft and supple, smooth skin hiding strength beneath.
Rose found herself allowing her hand to drift over the exposed patches that she had done, her fingertips trailing over the smooth skin like a trail of satin. She liked the way the flesh was warm and velvety under her caress and she let her lips curve as she enjoyed the texture.
The Doctor swallowed hard at the heated look in her eyes, like she wanted to take a bite. He could even see her pearly white teeth peeking out of her mouth ready to nip and bite.
He fought back a shudder and cursed the new body that was so susceptible to tactile senses. He had awoken with cravings to touch, to taste, to smell, to hold, to see and Rose’s presence just made it worse.
Her touch was burning his skin, branding him as hers as surely as the other incarnation had belonged to her in mind, body, soul and heart, even if she’d never known.
And she didn’t know.
Whenever he looked at her he could see that she was clueless about her own appeal. Oh, she knew she was pretty, knew that men flocked around her but she couldn’t see why.
And perhaps that was why she was dangerous.
She didn’t know that her smile lit up his insides and made him feel like he was going through regeneration every day. She didn’t know that the sight of that pink tongue poking its way out between her teeth had his hands clenching in frustration, or that her unconscious sashay drew his eyes like a magnet to her lush hips.
Her unique scent of strawberries and—clichéd as it was—roses, made him crazy with longing. The strains of each individual scent wrapping around him, luring him to sway closer, to inhale deeper, and take her into his body, feel her all the way down to his very core.
The tantalising brush of her skin against his, whether purposely done, like now, or accidental, like a bump against him in the console room, still had the ability to make him catch his breath. She was soft and warm and alluring and he wanted to haul her up against him and find out, first hand, how well this Doctor danced.
Rose leaned into him, biting down on her lip in concentration, as she navigated the last of the stubble and it took more self control than he was comfortable with to allow her to do so and not wrench the razor from her silky fingers, drag her close, and bite down on that plump lip for himself.
She tilted his head slightly and her dainty fingers brushed against his lower lip. His blood thrummed through both hearts, heating him up faster than a year on the sun and as the pulsating liquid hurtled through his body his hands reached for her hips.
Yes, he was.
She sat back with a satisfied look and his hands fell to his sides.
Oh, she meant she was done. Right.
He cleared his throat, hoping to Rassilon that his voice didn’t squeak. “Great, fantastic, fab-a-mundo … okay, maybe not that one. I’ll put that on a list of things not to say, shall I? Along with asking your mother how she is. Doesn’t she know that people aren’t really interested in the answer? Bad manners to actually tell someone how you are when they ask. Anyway, enough of that. How do I look?”
He wanted to groan at himself, what was it about being close to Rose that made him want to babble, well, babble more than usual?
It was like this regeneration was determined to make him far more jovial than his last. Whether he liked it or not.
Rose smiled at him. “Better than the amazing tissue monster.”
He ran the back of his hand over his baby-smooth face and grinned manically at her, trying to dispel the reaction she had caused in him. Trouble with a bi-vascular system was that it took a hell of along time to cool down once he was heated.
Great in the bedroom, not so great when you’re trapped in the bathroom with your companion, unable to move far away from the sink unless she saw exactly the effect she was having on you.
“Rose Tyler, new career as a barber.”
Or Porn Star. Who knew a shave could be so erotic?
“Thanks,” she said with a swift smirk. “Bill’s in the post.”
“Shut up!” She rolled her eyes at his feeble joke. “Your sense of humour hasn’t improved.”
Or both incarnations of himself were so turned on whenever she was around that trying to think of words, let alone jokes were as hard as … well, you didn’t need a diagram.
“Didn’t really have a lot to laugh at, last time,” he confessed and she looked away.
“Just wish you’d have said something, ya know. Prepared me, even a bit. I thought we were … close. But you never even said it was a possibility.”
“I’d hoped it wouldn’t be,” he replied quickly. But he could see she was really still upset about it. To her it must have come as a betrayal of the trust and bond that they had shared. The misery in her eyes did more to dispel his ardency than anything else and he could move back without embarrassing himself.
He raised his hand and tapped her nose.
He waited until she looked at him and then he said softly. “I know I didn’t tell you about this. I know it’s hard for you. It’ll take some getting used to, for both of us. But you are helping.”
She gave him a grateful look.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Rose reached out and cupped his cheek, her thumb caressing his jaw and gave a lop-sided smile. “Just tell me you’re sorry.”
He got the reference straight away and a beaming grin burst out. “I am. I’m sorry.”
Rose gave him her best ‘the-hills-are-alive’ smile and threw her arms around him revelling in the way the Doctor was simply the Doctor.
Her Doctor. Whatever body he was in.
Things would get better.
Things would get easier.
Because, whatever else he was, he was familiar.
“So,” he said detangling himself. “Same time tomorrow?”
Her eyebrow’s raised. “You want me to do it again?”
Well, maybe not exactly how she’d one it today. He didn’t think his blood pressure could take it.
Nice finding out, though.
“You made such a great job of it, I think I’ll make it part of your duties. Companion, running from danger and aiding and abetting in general mischief and barber.”
Rose pretended to consider it. “I’ll want a pay rise.”
“I’ll buy you chips.”
“And a vanilla milkshake.”
He laughed out loud. “Humans, so easy.”
“Oi! Watch what you say.” She swiped at his arm.
“Okay then. Now, where do you want to go today?”
Rose lit up in excitement. “What’d you have in mind?”
“If I’m right, and I’m more than right, I’m brilliant, there’s a storm brewing in the Horse Head Nebula. Wanna see?”
Rose nodded, hopping off her perch. “We’re gonna get caught in the middle of it, aren’t we?”
“What makes you say that?”
She grinned mischievously. “With you, it’s always one close shave to another.”
He groaned. “Rose Tyler, that was just bad!”