Title: Throes of Desire
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: no actual pairings
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: 30_losses
Prompt: 34B, Desire
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

He shouldn't feel like this. It was too .... too human.

The Doctor sighed, turning over in bed and trying to cool spot to rest his cheek on the pillow. He hated having restless nights like this, but they seemed to be more and more frequent lately. The longer he was alone, the more restless he became.

He couldn't quite understand it. He'd never been like this before; he'd always been able to sublimate his needs and push them to the back of his mind. But that was getting harder and harder to do as time went on; in fact, he was at the point where it felt that ignoring his needs was impossible.

He couldn't keep on like this. Something had to give -- and he didn't want to let himself break. That would be just as intolerable as what he was feeling now.

This was such a human trait -- to feel as though he was burning with desire. Desire for what? He hadn't wanted to admit it to himself, but he needed physical contact. Not just someone to be his companion -- but a lover who would be there for him in more ways that just being his friend and being there for him in that capacity.

That wasn't something that he'd ever gone looking for, but he couldn't keep denying to himself that it was what he needed. The Doctor's lips twisted in a wry smile as he thought back over some of his past companions, and what they would have thought of this revelation.

They would probably have been angry at him for taking so long to come to the realization that he needed someone in this way. They'd all wanted to be that person -- but he'd never felt that any of them were right.

They'd had a bond with him, of course. He'd cared for them all, felt that they were friends. But there had always been something stopping him from taking that final plunge, and giving them his hearts. He'd always held back, and he'd never regretted doing so. He never would. He couldn't give that part of himself unless he was absolutely sure, and he never had been.

They'd wanted him, he knew. But he couldn't be with someone who he didn't feel that way about -- it would be a lie, and he cared too much for his companions as friends to delude them in that way.

Not to mention that he couldn't delude himself.

He knew that it was part of what had made them turn away from him and go back to their lives, and he regretted that. But the Doctor knew that he would have regretted lying to them and giving them false hope as to his true feelings even more. He couldn't have done that.

But he also couldn't keep going on like this, desire burning deep inside him and intensifying as time went on. He'd been alone for over 900 years -- not devoid of companionship or people who wanted to be with him, but devoid of anyone to fill that space within him that remained resolutely empty.

Oh, he'd thought that there were people who could fill that space. He'd tried in other incarnations, and he'd even found a few who had held a special place in his hearts -- for a while. But since he'd been in this body, he'd remained behind his protective walls.

Well .... not always. But he pushed the thought of the one person he'd fallen in love with away from him, refusing to acknowledge his feelings even to himself. He didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to remember what it had felt like to know that he'd finally found the person who he wanted to spend his life with -- but who hadn't returned that desire.

Maybe that was what had made the desire within him grow; maybe that was why it gnawed at him more strongly with each passing day.

The Doctor turned over again, a frustrated sigh coming from his lips. This was affecting every aspect of who he was -- he couldn't concentrate, couldn't keep his mind focused on anything for very long. He had to find a solution to this problem before it consumed him.

The desire burning through him couldn't be sublimated any longer, and it wasn't just going to go away. He knew that well enough; he'd tried to ignore it in the past, and when he did so, it only seemed to grow stronger.

He really shouldn't be surprised, he thought to himself, giving up on trying to sleep and lying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. This body was younger than any of his previous ones, for some reason; it was no wonder that it had more sexual needs.

Well, all right, maybe it wasn't younger -- but it certainly felt that way. He'd never felt as youthful and energized as he had since he'd been in this body; maybe it was just because this was without a doubt the most attractive one he'd ever had. Others obviously felt that, and when he looked in the mirror, he had to admit that it was true.

That was terribly vain, he thought, another wry smile curving his lips. But didn't he have a right to be? After all, he finally liked the way that he looked, after over 900 years of not knowing just what sort of body he would end up with when he regenerated.

This body deserved to have someone who loved it. After all, there was no telling what he could end up with when he regenerated again -- and he wanted to be able to enjoy the physical side of his existence while he still could.

Besides, the desire that he could always feel simmering inside him needed to be satisfied. And he might as well do that in a body that could be desired than try to assuage those feelings with one that was harder for anyone to be attracted to.

The Doctor let out another sigh, turning onto his side and slipping one hand beneath the pillow. No matter how much he thought about this, he couldn't find a workable solution.

So much depended on "what ifs" and chance. What if he couldn't find anyone who was attracted to him in more than a transitory way? And worse, what if he never found a person who he himself was attracted to enough to want to be with them? That was always a definite possibility.

There was always a chance that he would spend the rest of the life he had left in this body looking for something that he would never find -- and then spend the lives after this one regretting that he'd wasted the time he'd had in this body when he should have been making the most of it.

He shuddered at the thought, feeling a knot start to form in the pit of his stomach. No, he didn't want to waste whatever time he might have in this body. He didn't want to go through the rest of this life alone. He'd been alone for long enough -- and the desire that burned in him was starting to become more insistent.

Did humans feel like this? Was that why some of them seemed so set on finding a life partner? If so, he sympathized with them. This feeling was almost intolerable.

Why was he feeling this way? Was he somehow assimilating the traits of humans the more he was around them? At one point, he would have found that terrifying -- even disgusting. But now, strangely, the prospect didn't seem so bad.

He rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow and trying to push away the thoughts that raged through his mind: himself naked with someone who was pushing inside him, making him gasp and writhe, taking his body to heights he'd never achieved before .....

Not only his body, but his soul as well. That was the one thing that had always been missing from reality whenever he'd been with someone; that connection of their souls that transcended anything that could be put into words. He'd never really felt that kind of love before, but he knew it was possible. It had to be.

If it wasn't, then he was searching for something he would never find, either in this body or in any other that he might happen to regenerate into before his final end.

But for now, all he could do was yearn for that connection, and hope that he might be able to find it someday. Hopefully, that day would be soon, he told himself, one small hand clenching into a fist as he grasped a handful of the blanket and pulled it up around his nude body.

He was caught in the throes of desire, burning in a fire that he had no idea how to extinguish. There was no way out that he could see, short of finding someone who could douse those flames, and that wasn't something that could happen overnight. He was condemned to burn in this fire until he found some kind of relief -- even if it was only temporary.

The Doctor let out a groan of frustration, pushing himself up off the bed and getting to his feet. He might as well try to sublimate this desire by taking the Tardis somewhere he'd never been -- and maybe what he was looking for might fall into his lap. Stranger things had happened.

***