Title: Ask Me Anything
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Giacomo Casanova
Fandom: Doctor Who/Casanova (Masterpiece Theater)
Rating: NC-17
Table: 4
Prompt: 64, Encounter
Author's Note: The character of Giacomo Casanova is based on the BBC version of Casanova starring David Tennant. Continuation of Desire Walks On.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Giacomo Casanova. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor stared up at the young man leaning over him, his eyes wide with surprise. Of all the things he might have expected to happen in 18th-century Italy, this was definitely not one of them. It had been odd enough to actually meet the infamous Casanova -- but having that selfsame man nearly lying on top of him was an entirely different kind of bizarre.

This wouldn't be the first time he'd taken a lover in one of the places he'd traveled to, that insidious little voice in the back of his mind piped up. After all, what was wrong with it? It wasn't as though there would be anything between them that would last for any length of time; it would be pleasant while he was here, and easily forgotten about when he left.

But something told him that this young man was going to be much harder than that to forget. This wasn't just anyone, just some casual person he'd met in the course of his travels. This was Casanova -- the man whose fame lived on in history as the world's greatest lover.

Or was that Don Juan? The Doctor frowned inwardly; he could never remember which of those two illustrious men that title rightfully belonged to.

Giac's lips were mere inches from his; he could feel the other man's soft breath against his skin, the warmth of that slim body leaning over his own. He knew that he should push the young man away from him, come up with some reason that Giac shouldn't be here, escort him out of the Tardis and leave with all speed.

But somehow, he couldn't make himself do that. He didn't want Giac to go, not now that he was here and he'd seen the inside of the Tardis. How was he going to explain this away? And really .... did it even matter? The young man whose body was practically holding him down didn't seem to be interested in explanations at the moment.

Giac placed a finger against the Doctor's lips, cutting off any words that he might have said. "No words," the Italian whispered, his gaze never wavering from the Doctor's. "Words aren't needed. They can wait until later .... for now, there is only this moment, and what we both want from it."

He shouldn't listen to those words; they would only get him into the trouble he'd tried so hard to avoid with this little trip. But he couldn't just push them away. He wanted Giac too badly; and anyway, he'd already given in, hadn't he? If he hadn't, then he would have already made his excuses and ushered this brash young man out of his ship.

No, he couldn't deny himself this. It had been too long, far too long, and this has gone from being merely something he wanted to being something he needed -- well, at least something that he'd managed to convince himself was needed.

It didn't matter. He'd done a good job of convincing the more rational, cautious side of him; that side was buried somewhere that it couldn't get out, locked away until he decided that it would be in his best interests to listen. For now, he was going to indulge, and consequences be damned. What could possibly happen?

The Doctor pushed away all the thoughts of what had happened in the past when he'd asked himself that question, his hands tugging first at Giac's shirt, then at the buttons on his trousers. His fingers were clumsy, fumbling, frustrated until the young man on top of him gently pushed his hands away and began to undress himself.

He couldn't keep his eyes from Giac's body as more was revealed; his hands followed his eyes, unable to hold back from touching all that was presented to him. Yes, it had been far too long since he'd been able to touch anyone like this ....

It seemed to only take seconds for Giac to shed his clothes, the barriers between their bodies disappearing as though they had never existed. Giac sat back on his heels, straddling the Doctor's thighs, looking down at the man under him with a smile tugging at his lips. His gaze roved over the Time Lord's nude body, devouring the Doctor with his eyes.

Giac leaned down and pressed an insistent kiss to the Doctor's mouth, his hands capturing the Time Lord's wrists and holding them above his head. The Doctor tensed at first, then let himself relax; he'd literally asked for this, after all, and he wasn't going to resist. He'd more or less invited this young man into his bed; there was no reason to struggle.

"Don't be afraid," the Italian murmured, his lips brushing against the Doctor's cheek. "I'd never hurt you -- but I believe you know that." Their eyes met, Giacomo's full of promise, the Doctor's dark with need.

"I know you wouldn't," the Time Lord whispered, wondering how long it would take for Giacomo to realize that there were two heartbeats thundering in his chest. If the other man continued his slow, steady exploration of the Doctor's body, there was no way he wouldn't be able to discover that little discrepancy.

But at the moment, that was something that Giac didn't seem to be concerned with; he was working his way down the Doctor's body with gentle kisses, making the Time Lord squirm and moan under him. His fingers were threaded through the young man's hair, his body arching up off the bed with each brush of those soft lips across his skin.

Those lips were so insistent .... the Doctor let out a soft groan when Giac's lips reached his cock, trying not to thrust his hips upwards. Giac's hands were holding him down, keeping him from moving too much, fingertips soft against his flesh. But it wasn't the other man's hands that he was focusing on; it was the actions of that delectable mouth.

He'd had lovers before, of course -- too many to count in his long years of life. But he'd never been with anyone who had aroused him in the way that Giac did; no one had ever made him feel this urgency, this burning need that took over his senses.

Giac's hands slid over his hips, down his thighs, then back up to cup his bottom and lift him off the bed. The Doctor arched his back, curling his fingers around the oaken bedstead and holding on to it. His head was spinning, his senses reeling; if he didn't hold on to something, he was sure that he might careen off somewhere into the cosmos.

He glanced down at the young man who was giving him such pleasure; Giac's cheeks were hollowed out, his eyes closed, long lashes like dark fans across his cheeks. As though he could feel the Doctor's eyes on him, his eyes shifted upwards as he let the Time Lord's engorged cock slip out of his mouth, those lips curving into a smile.

"I don't believe you're a stranger to this," he murmured, leaning down to wrap his lips around one small nipple, bringing a gasp from the Doctor's throat. "I think you want this just as much as I do -- and I intend to give you exactly what you want." One hand raised to cup the Doctor's cheek, before Giac moved to one side, arching a brow questioningly at the Time Lord.

The Doctor frowned, wondering whatever in the world Giac could be asking him for. The answer came to him in a moment, another blush spreading over his cheeks. Lubrication, of course. That was something that he didn't usually overlook.

"In the table," he said, his voice sounding weak and breathless. His bones felt like water; he was sure that if he'd had to move on his own at this moment, he wouldn't have been able to. There was a languorous sensation sweeping over his body; he didn't want to move a muscle unless he had to. He was perfectly content to let Giac do whatever he pleased.

He watched as Giac reached for the table, opening the drawer and fumbling in it for a few moments. When he withdrew his hand, he was holding a small tube, frowning at it as though he didn't know what it was. It took the Doctor a few moments to realize that of course Giacomo had never seen anything like it -- he was from the 18th century, after all.

"Yes, that's what you're looking for," he said softly, raising a hand and pressing the tips of his fingers against Giac's lips when the young man seemed on the verge of asking a question. "No, don't ask me any questions now. Anything you want to know, I'll explain later. But there are other things we should be concerned with now."

"I do believe you're right," Giac whispered, trailing one hand down the Doctor's belly to rest on his hip. Leaning down, his lips brushed against the Time Lord's ear, sending a shiver down his spine. "Turn over."

The Doctor complied, turning over onto his stomach and pillowing his head on his arms. He felt Giacomo move behind him, spreading his thighs apart and settling between his legs. He could feel a shiver of anticipation ripple through his body; he was extremely vulnerable in this position, and Giac could do anything he chose.

He gasped when one fingertip slid down the cleft of his ass to stroke over his entrance once, then twice. The Doctor buried his face in the pillow to keep himself from moaning for more; he didn't want to seem too eager. But he couldn't stop his hips from rocking back against the slight pressure, his body betraying his need.

The tantalizing pressure kept up for a few moments, then, unexpectedly, it was gone. He almost groaned aloud, wanting to lift his head or turn over in protest, but forcing himself to stay still. Whatever Giac was doing, there was an instinctive trust already between them; all he had to do was wait and see what the other man intended to do next.

As suddenly as the stroking finger had disappeared, it returned, this time working its way inside him. The Doctor spread his legs a bit more, arching his back and pushing his ass back against the intrusion. All he could think of was how badly he needed something inside him -- now.

Giac's free hand was threaded through his hair, pulling his head back slightly, a second finger working into his ass to join the first. Both fingers were moving in and out of him, pressing deep inside his body, searching, probing.

Without warning, those fingers were suddenly gone -- and this time, he did moan aloud. It took him a moment to realize that he was still clutching at the railing at the top of his bed, so tightly that his knuckles were white. His body was taut, tense, waiting for what he knew was coming.

He couldn't hold back a scream when Giac thrust into him; he'd been expecting it, of course, but the sudden penetration took his breath away. Giac hadn't worked himself in slowly -- he'd thrust in hard and deep, burying himself to the hilt. The Doctor could hear the other man's breath in his ear, sharp and ragged, feel those fingers digging into his hips.

Giac's body was pressing him down against the coolness of the silken sheets, grinding his cock into the bed, each deep thrust making him moan helplessly and push his ass back against the invasion. He'd never been filled this completely, never been reduced to this state of pure sensation. Now he understood why Giac was considered such a great lover ....

His thighs were trembling, his cock rigid and throbbing against his belly. He was going to come within seconds; he only hoped that Giac would be as satisfied as he himself would be. Oh well, they could always have another go if ---

The Doctor's thoughts were cut short when his orgasm washed through his body, hitting him with the force of an oncoming train. A cry was torn from his throat, his hands tightening around the bedposts, his body bucking under Giac's. A few moments later, he felt his lover release inside him, still thrusting erratically into his body.

The weight on top of him increased slightly; Giac was laying full-length on top of him, still buried inside him, hands stroking down his sides, breath hot in his ear.

Both men lay there for long moments, breathing heavily, not moving. It was Giacomo who broke the silence; his words made the Doctor stiffen under him, breath catching in his throat. So, the questions were already starting. He should have expected that.

"May I ask you something?" The smooth, fluid voice washed over him, making him feel weak and slumberous. Even the man's voice was sensual. It was small wonder that Giacomo Casanova had managed to seduce so many people in his lifetime -- and now he had added a time-traveling alien from the future to his list of conquests.

"Of course. You can ask me anything," the Doctor replied, knowing that he would probably regret those words, but unable to keep them back.

"Just who are you, my beautiful Doctor?" Giac whispered into his ear, voice soft and husky. "Where do you come from? What is this place, and how do you come to be here in Venice?" The words were uttered in a genuinely curious tone; the Doctor could sense that Giac meant no malice by speaking as he did.

His mind whirled; he wasn't yet in any fit state to answer those questions honestly and still be able to protect his identity. The truth? He couldn't tell the truth. Giac would never be able to accept it -- and the Doctor wouldn't blame him for that. If he'd been in Giac's place, he wouldn't have believed the truth, either.

Giac pulled out of him slowly, gently, turning the Doctor over and pulling the Time Lord into his arms. He settled back comfortably against the pillows, obviously waiting for the Doctor to answer the questions he'd just put forth.

The Doctor swallowed hard, trying to think of a way to begin telling Giac about himself. What could he say that wouldn't sound insane? Nothing, really. There was nothing for it but to tell the truth -- and make a quick getaway once Giac knew it.

He opened his mouth to speak, running his tongue over suddenly dry lips. He wanted more than anything to make up some story, something that would sound plausible, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Giac deserved better than that. After the marvellous lovemaking they had shared, he deserved the truth, no matter what he might think of it.

But the truth was so hard. He would sound like a madman, and he was sure that whatever he said would color Giac's opinion of him. Did it really matter? After all, he would more than likely never see the Italian again. That thought brought a pang of regret.

"I .... I'm not from this world. Not from this time," he said softly, hoping that his words wouldn't make the other man bolt away from him. "This may be a very long story."

***

Next story in series - Not Only Human.