Title: The Bottom Line
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Brendan Block
Fandom: Doctor Who/Secret Smile
Rating: NC-17
Table: C, lover100
Prompt: 33, Bottom
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 Brendan Block, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***


"That man was looking at your bottom."

Brendan's voice was rough, his eyes narrowed. He threw a glance in the direction of the man who'd just walked away, his look so venomous that the Doctor wouldn't have been surprised to see the retreating figure drop dead before he reached the door.

"Brendan, we're in a sex shop," the Doctor protested, shaking his head and trying to make light of his boyfriend's annoyance. "Of course the people here are going to be .... well, checking out what they see. You can't expect men not to look."

"Oh yes, I can," Brendan growled, one hand clenching into a fist. "I could knock his teeth out right now for daring to stare at your bum the way he did. Put on your coat."

"What?" The Doctor was carrying his trench coat over one arm; it was warm inside the shop, and he'd taken it off after the first few minutes they'd been in the place. "Brendan, it's too warm in here to put this on. And we're not leaving yet, are we?"

"Put it on, Doctor," Brendan told him, in a tone that brooked no argument.

The Doctor looked as though he wanted to grumble, but he complied with Brendan's words, shrugging into his coat and raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend. Brendan slipped an arm around the Time Lord's slim waist, whispering into his ear as he led the other man to the front counter.

"I think we should ask the clerk here about some of the toys we're been looking at, hmmm?" he said, stopping in front of the counter and waiting for a clerk to step up.

Brendan's hand moved under the cover of the Doctor's coat, cupping the Time Lord's bottom in his hand and squeezing gently. The Gallifreyan's eyes widened as that hand moved to the waistband of his jeans, those long fingers slipping under the denim fabric to rest against his skin.

"What are you doing?" he hissed in a whisper, trying to look nonchalant as a clerk approached.

"Asserting my mastery," Brendan told him in an undertone before he addressed the clerk. "Hello there. We're looking for some .... err .... nipple clamps. Something that might take things up a few notches. Neither of us are beginners at this sort of thing."

As he spoke, his hand slipped into the back of the Doctor's jeans; the Time Lord's eyes widened, but he didn't dare try to squirm away from that searching hand, or say anything to Brendan. He didn't want the people in the shop to know what was going on.

Besides, it was rather arousing to be fondled like this in a public place, with no one else knowing what was happening right in front of their eyes. But if Brendan took this too far, it could prove to be embarrassing -- at least for him.

He almost gasped aloud when Brendan's hand slipped lower, between his legs, one finger stroking against his opening. He hadn't expected that.

The clerk turned away for a moment, presumably to get some nipple clamps to show them; the Doctor hadn't been able to pay much attention to anything the young man was saying. He kept his voice low, barely above a whisper when he spoke.

"And just what are you going to do if you make me come?" he murmured, watching his boyfriend's face to see what effect the words would have on him. "That could be a little embarrassing for both of us if anyone realizes what you're doing."

"That's the idea," Brendan whispered back, smirking at the Time Lord. "Making you come when I want you to is what this is all about. Showing the world that you belong to me and that no one else has a right to so much as look at you the wrong way."

"But --" The Time Lord shut his mouth and merely smiled as the clerk turned back to them.

The young man said something else, holding out a pair of silver butterfly nipple clamps on the palm of his hand. But the Doctor heard nothing of what he was saying; he was too busy trying to stifle a gasp as one finger slid inside him, quickly joined by a second.

It was all he could do not to buck his hips forward, or rock back against the invasion. No, he had to keep still and let Brendan do whatever he pleased.

His boyfriend's fingers pressed more deeply inside him, curling to brush against his prostate and almost drawing a moan from his throat. The Doctor could feel his knees growing weak; in another few moments he'd be leaning helplessly against Brendan.

The clerk didn't seem to suspect a thing; he was chattering on about the merits of one pair of nipple clamps versus another, and Brendan was apparently listening to him, nodding and asking a question here and there. The Doctor was too preoccupied to take any notice of what they were saying.

Each brush of those fingers against his prostate was pushing him closer to the edge; he had to struggle to keep himself still, biting down on his lips to hold back any sound he might have made. But it was getting harder every moment to hold himself back.

Brendan seemed determined to reduce him to a shuddering, stuttering mess, right in front of the clerk who was still talking to them, as well as the few others in the shop. Fortunately, none of them seemed to realize what was going on.

Those fingers were thrusting inside him now; Brendan seemed to be trying his best to make him come, and there was no way he could control his body's reactions.

When the clerk turned away again, Brendan's fingers thrust deep inside him one last time, pressing insistently against his prostate. "Come for me, Doctor." He heard his boyfriend's whispered words dimly, as if they came from a great distance rather than right beside his ear.

It was more of a relief than he could put into words to be able to let himself go.

For a few moments, the Doctor was insensible to the world around him; the exquisite pressure that had built up inside his body released, an insidious pleasure flooding over him in a wave that nearly took his breath away.

The Doctor was sure that he would cry out, or at the very least that he would stagger forward and have to grab the glass counter for support. But he didn't; he managed to stand upright, though he did sway slightly and stumble against Brendan.

By now Brendan seemed to have decided what he intended to buy, pulling out his wallet one-handed. His other hand was still resting against the Doctor's bottom, skin against skin, as though he was reluctant to break the intimate contact.

The Doctor almost felt regretful when his lover's hand slipped out of his jeans to tuck his wallet back into his pocket.

He automatically followed Brendan out of the shop, his senses still reeling from what had just taken place. He'd done some odd things in public places -- especially when he'd been with Jack -- but what Brendan had done to him had been an entirely new experience.

"I need to get back to the Tardis," he said in a low voice. "I'm not exactly comfortable."

"Considering that you just came in your trousers, I don't doubt it," Brendan said, a hint of laughter in his voice. "That was incredibly sexy, you know. I wish I could have gotten it on tape. That's something I'd love to be able to watch over and over again."

"What was that all about?" the Doctor demanded, stopping in his tracks and facing his lover with his small hands clenched into fists on his narrow hips. "Were you that angry that some stranger happened to take a look at my bum?"

Brendan turned to him, nodding, his brows drawing together. "Yes. I wanted to make the point that your bottom is mine. That you belong to me, every inch of that beautiful body. And that I don't want anyone else so much as thinking about you in that way."

"You don't know what he was thinking!" the Doctor protested. "For all you know, he could have had nothing more on his mind than that he liked the jeans I'm wearing and was going to ask me what shop I'd gotten them in!"

Brendan nodded, his dark eyes dancing with laughter. "That could be. And maybe I just wanted to do something to keep you on your toes a bit."

"Well, you certainly achieved that," the Doctor admitted, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "And now that you've achieved your goal of making me come in public, what else do you have in mind for the day?"

"Getting you back to the Tardis and stripping you out of those clothes," Brendan murmured, his gaze riveted to the Doctor's face, as though he was studying his lover's reaction to his words. "And trying out some of the toys I bought in that shop."

The Doctor nodded, his hearts starting to beat faster. Brendan had bought other things besides those nipple clamps; he was curious to see just what was in that bag. "I think you might have some surprises in store for me."

"Oh, yes, I do," Brendan told him, sliding an arm around his waist. "And you know, I just might have to make you come again. I haven't quite convinced myself that our little exhibition will keep other men away from that gorgeous bottom of yours."

"I'm under the definite impression that if it happens again, the offender might be in a lot of trouble," the Doctor said, unable to keep back a soft laugh.

"The bottom line is that I don't want anyone ogling your bum!" Brendan declared, laughing along with him. "And to be honest, I was looking for a chance to touch you. It's hard for me to keep my hands off you, even when we're in a public place."

He leaned close to the Doctor, whispering into his ear. "I have the feeling that we're going to be in our bedroom for a long time," he murmured, the words soft and seductive. "And that you're going to be coming quite a lot over the next few hours. In fact, I promise you will."

Those words almost made the Doctor feel like running as quickly as he could back to the ship, his footsteps quickening along with the beat of his hearts.

***