sortofaman | Living in the present: for Chase (26 July)

Chase caught the look, having to adjust in his sitting position because the sudden rush downwards was undeniable and he was breathing harder, the cloth moving lower now, back to his hips. "So uh..." he murmured, breathlessly.

"Yeah," the Doctor said, and looked at him, sitting up and pulling at Chase's shoulders to tug him down for a kiss, long and hard. It was, somewhat, reaffirming that this was his life, not any of that he'd seen. And that he was pleased with it. Very pleased, if his body was any indication.

Chase exhaled through his nose, a long stream of an exhalation as he was kissed, not dropping the cloth, but instead stroking it over the Doctor's hips, again and again, avoiding the most sensitive areas on purpose. But that didn't stop him from pushing his clothed chest against the Doctor's, his own cock twitching as he became harder and harder.

The Doctor whispered something rather dirty in Italian, part of the continuing education bit for Chase, and moved against him, wriggling out of his boxers as they moved, slow and almost seductive. They didn't have to speak much to know what was going to happen, how they made each other feel. "Please."

Chase's breath caught in his chest, watching him as he pushed the bowl to the floor and eased into a straddle of the Doctor, his jeans causing friction as he so, so, so slowly rocking his hips against the Doctor's. "Please, what," he mumbled.

"Anything," the Doctor said, and reached down to undo Chase's jeans, just as slow, eyes pure dark and almost black with the need. "As long as it involves me and you and this."

"It always does," Chase pointed out, lifting himself onto his knees to push the jeans down, his boxers tented as it almost nearly pointed in the direction things were headed. Up, up, up.

"That's not a problem, I hope." For some reason, the Doctor was finding things even more desperate than usual, and he pulled Chase's shirt up in reply, moving in and running his tongue along his chest, teeth scraping just enough to be felt.

"Ohforgod'sfucksake," he mumbled under his breath, keeling half-over at the touch, swallowing hard as he pulled off his shirt (rife with crumbs and wrinkles from the marathon) and he eyed the Doctor with his own dark look. "Not a problem. Always does. Always will. "S'good for me."

"They do say sex is good exercise," the Doctor agreed, and pulled the shirt off Chase, rather rough in his movements before he moved in and kissed his neck, hard enough to leave a mark, definitely when his teeth dug in.

Chase's eyes rolled back into his head as he leaned down so the Doctor could have all the access he wanted as Chase shimmied out of his jeans, getting them all the way off and he gasped as the Doctor's teeth his that place.

And he just babbled, world going kaleidoscope-blind.

Chase still wasn't naked enough, and the Doctor felt like he could feel the blood heat in his veins as he moved in and pulled at his boxers. "Going to do you until we can't anymore," he muttered in Italian. Oddly, this situation really made things stick, even if Chase didn't know much of the language yet.

Chase was breathing harder, not knowing what the Doctor said, but god had it turned him on and he moaned at the feel of his boxers gliding off and giving a sweet, tiny moment of friction and he was still holding the cloth, he realized and licked his lower lip, leaning it down and wrapping it around his hand as he started to stroke the Doctor's cock, giving it long, hard pumps.

Eyes rolling back, the Doctor cursed, still in Italian, the words falling from his lips as his fingers tightened on Chase's shoulders. His hips jerked up with each move, slowly finding the pulse of the movement and echoing it.

He breathed hard, the sound heavy and pornographic, really, as he kept his eyes trained lower. "Tell me," he mumbled, "How to...how to say. How to say, 'yes, like that, more' in Italian."

Steeling himself back to coherence, the Doctor moved up and said it softly, in Chase's ear, drawling the words and turning each of them into...well, sex.

Chase stopped long enough to let the Doctor translate before moving his hand harder and faster, leaning down to tear into the Doctor with a brutal kiss, hair falling in his eyes (it was getting too long again, almost hippie-like) and kissing harder and harder as his hand worked faster.

Christ, if this kept up they'd both be done in two seconds, and the Doctor kissed him back, peeling his hand away as he did, pulling hard on his hair with his other hand. "You or me on top?" he asked in Italian, knowing Chase would understand that much, and what he meant.

Chase caught the 'you or me' part, which was all he needed to know and they needed some sort of quick signal-code for that. "Me," he replied. "Io." He breathed harder, reaching for the lotion at the bedside, hand stroking the Doctor's torso as he bent over, tongue traversing skin and muscles, tongue flicking his nipple as he continued lower to take the Doctor's cock past his lips, unable to resist.

The anticipation was going to drive him mad, already had gone straight to his head and the Doctor cried out as Chase's mouth was on him, then over him, pure heat and wet and sex. He cursed in a different language now, whatever came to his mind first--Gaelic had some really dirty bits to it--and threaded his fingers in Chase's hair even tighter.

The hair tugging and the languages were making him unable to think, so utterly out of it and he moaned longly, lips taking the Doctor deep as he slicked his fingers up and pushed two in, just resting there, feeling like they were throbbing, again and again as he moved them in and out, finger-fucking the Doctor just a little because he was getting too damn eager.

He was trembling now, and the languages turned just to sounds, to something between a sob and a gasp, pure need, and he couldn't have opened his eyes if he'd tried to. Hips pressing down onto Chase, he bucked slightly, indicating his need for more, for the love of god. There were so many benefits to humanity. So many.

Easing his slick fingers out, he reached down to unceremoniously pump himself a few times before sliding in all too easily, hitching the Doctor's hips up for a better angle and groaning at the feel and the heat and the feeloftheheat and, "Ohhh," he moaned longly.

The angle was almost perfect right away, and the Doctor muttered something again before he was able to move and drag his teeth against Chase's neck again, starting to move even if Chase wasn't. His nails dragged hard down his back, enough to mark, almost to the point of blood.

Chase rocked back into the nails, then into the teeth, pushing back for friction and forward for more and it was all so perfect and he didn't want to stop rocking, thrusting into that warm, wet, perfect, tight ohgod heat and a dozen and one images flickered past his eyes.

It was like being hit hard in the head, sex like this, but in the best possible way. That, at least, was the only way the Doctor could think to explain how he was dazed and in need and still moving, clenching hard around Chase inside him. There was, he realised, no one else he'd rather be with, right then. In the universe.

And then he wasn't really thinking anymore.

Every so often, Chase would pause, readjust, find a new angle and slide in for a while. And he did this again and again, pausing to readjust and thrust...there...harder and harder and then he continued, readjusted, more and more and more, building them both up to a climax that was going to be amazing.

The Doctor, recently, had started to tremble at points like this, unable to keep from gasping for breath. He moved up and kissed Chase, suddenly moving his legs up to wrap them around his hips, clenched tight.

Chase moved faster and harder, mumbling disjointed words into the kiss, going faster and harder, his hand going down with the cloth to stroke the Doctor's cock and finish the job.

The friction that was added by the damp cloth made the Doctor cry out, clenching tight as he did. He moaned a little more, then cried out again as Chase moved just the right way, so very bloody close.

Shaking his head to focus, he bent down and bit into Chase's shoulder, just as there was another hard thrust to the perfect place inside him, and he came without any sound, mouth open and inhaling hard as he did.

Chase kept rocking, moving harder and faster, swiftly and desperately pushing, nails digging into the Doctor's hips now as he gasped, moaning the Doctor's name. "Love you," he got out, gutturally.

The Doctor nodded, not really finding the words but knowing Chase knew what he meant. He kept moving with him, now desperately wanting to bring him off.

Chase moved his hands slowly up to the Doctor's shoulders, sliding them up, slowly, slowly, and grabbed hold of him to push in deeper and deeper, grunting as he finally met his climax and it overwhelmed him, happily so.

And that was right, and the Doctor moaned low, holding Chase and guiding him through it and through all of it, not wanting to let go.

Chase breathed heavily, all through his nose, lips trembling as a breath gasped past an open mouth and he bowed his head, kissing the Doctor's neck and collapsing atop, still inside.

Holding him still, the Doctor closed his eyes and ran his fingers along Chase's spine, his legs coming back down to the bed as he did. "Caro mio," he murmured, and kissed the top of his head.

"Whassat mean?" he mumbled, eyes falling shut as he slowly pulled out, wincing at the lack of warmth as he did.

"My beloved," the Doctor said, hissing slightly before his body got used to its normal state. He smiled softly. "You need to pick up a few more words."

"I'm stupid," he said in a deadpan. "What can I say. My brain's all about the repressing and Freud and latent stage and blahblahblah," he sighed, feeling pleasant as he stroked fingers up and down the Doctor's chest. "Doctor..."

"Maybe once this is done," the Doctor said, "you'll get it better. What's wrong, love?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing's wrong," he assured, quietly rattling off quick symptoms of a schizophrenic under his breath, just to prove his studying was worth it. "Just wanted to know," he mumbled, still blissful and sleepy. "You liked being married?"

The Doctor laughed at the first bit, then stretched and rolled over, arm over Chase. "Yeah," he said softly. "Yeah, I did. It was hard, but...it was right." He didn't think much about the other him, being human.

Chase smiled at that, giving a soft grin. "You still mean, then, what you told me around Valentine's Day?" he asked curiously, wondering if the Doctor remembered that conversation.

"Of course," the Doctor said, remembering it too clearly. He yawned and snuggled in against him. "Need to do the right thing."

Chase just laughed quietly and tugged the Doctor in closely, kissing his hair. "Good," was all he said. It was just good to have that settled, really, even if he had no plans of making any bold move. "Go to bed, okay?" he murmured softly. "We'll do some crosswords in the morning. Maybe a Scrabble game?"

"Definitely. Wouldn't miss it for," the Doctor yawned, "the universe." And he meant it too.

Chase grinned and settled in with the Doctor and, keeping true to his word, didn't even find other clothes; he just fell asleep wearing nothing at all.

Living in the present: for Chase (26 July)

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