Title: To Make You Feel My Love
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Ten.5
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Table: 4
Prompt: 57, Gentle
Note: Continuation of Good Enough.
Author's Note: The human version of the Doctor is being referred to as John Smith in this fic, since it's the Doctor's human alias and his clone needed a name.
Author's Note: Spoilers for Journey's End, somewhat. This is an completely alternate take on the ending of Season Four.
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 his human clone. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor could feel John's hand trembling in his own as he led the other man down the hallway into their bedroom; he turned to his lover once they were inside the door, pulling John into his arms and pressing a kiss against his cheek.

"John, there's nothing to be afraid of," he said softly, taking the other man's face between his hands and looking into his eyes. "I'm not going to do anything you're not ready for, I promise you that. I just want us to be .... close."

John nodded, swallowing audibly before he answered. "I know that, Doctor," he whispered, his voice gaining strength as he continued speaking. "I'm not afraid. Just a little .... nervous."

The Doctor let his hands trail down John's sides, letting out a soft sigh as the other man leaned against him, resting his head on the Time Lord's shoulder. This felt right, more than anything else possibly could. This was where John belonged -- where he belonged.

He was determined to take things slowly, but he couldn't keep his hands from trembling with desire; the anticipation was making his hearts beat faster, his breath come more quickly. Could John sense that in him, sense the desire that rose up in him when their eyes met?

All he had to do was look at the other man to know that it was true; John might not be a telepath, but he had no trouble reading his lover's thoughts. After all, they were cut from the same cloth, two of a kind; John could read him like a book.

Nothing was going to happen between them tonight that John couldn't handle -- if there was the least indication that the other man wasn't comfortable with anything, he would pull back. He only hoped that John would let him take things as far as he could without pulling back.

The Doctor took John's hands in his own, moving to the bed and sitting down, letting his arms encircle the other man's slim waist and looking up at John's face.

He could see fear there, but he could see something else; he couldn't really put a name to it. There were too many different emotions in that look on John's features to pick out just one. Desire, fear, love, anticipation, apprehension -- they were all mixed together in one look.

Closing his eyes, the Doctor moved his hands under the hem of the t-shirt John was wearing, lifting it and pressing his lips against the soft skin of the other man's stomach, moving his mouth slowly over the velvety flesh.

John filled his senses; he couldn't remember what he'd been thinking of only a few seconds ago. The only thing in his mind was this man, giving him pleasure, holding him, kissing him, loving him. Nothing else existed in his world.

He dimly heard John moan as he tossed the shirt to the floor, sliding his arms around the other man's waist. John's hands were in his hair, that slender body leaning closer to him; he almost gasped at the searing heat that tore through his body when his lips touched John's skin.

His hands moved to the waistband of the other man's jeans almost of their own accord; John would stop him if he wasn't ready for this, the Doctor told himself, almost holding his breath as he undid the button, then the zipper, pushing the fabric down those slim thighs.

How had this happened so quickly? John was naked in front of him, stepping out of his jeans, giving himself over to the Doctor, his dark eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

The Doctor didn't say a word; instead, he moved to the side slightly, pulling John down on the bed next to him and leaning over him. His arms wrapped around the other man's waist, his lips meeting the softness of John's mouth in a kiss that took his breath away.

It didn't matter that he was still fully clothed; he might as well have been naked next to this man. The desire he felt for John, the love that was wrapped up with that desire, burned through any barriers that could possibly have been between them.

He could feel John's love for him -- and he was sure that the other man felt the same. They didn't need words; they didn't even need sex to unite them. Theirs was a true meeting of minds, of hearts and souls, of existences.

John was on his back, his arms around the Doctor's shoulders; he was leaning over the other man, gazing down into his eyes, those beautiful deep brown pools that he could let himself drown in. He didn't need words, didn't need questions, not when they looked at each other like this.

The Doctor propped himself up on his elbows, casting an inquiring glance at John's face; what he could read there was acquiescence, desire, and even a little fear. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to John's, murmuring against the other man's mouth.

"I love you," he whispered, knowing that no other words were needed. They were the only words that seemed to put everything that he felt into expression, the only words that fit.

His lips and hands were trailing down John's body, his teeth grazing over first one small, taut nipple, then the other; his lips moving down to John's stomach, his cheek nuzzling against the fine, downy hairs that trailed downwards, to the warmth between the other man's thighs.

His fingers were curling around the base of John's cock, stroking up the base to the tender tip, then down again; John was writhing and squirming under him, those small hands clutching at the sheets, his moans echoing dimly in the Doctor's ears.

Then his mouth was on John's cock, taking him in with one smooth, quick motion; his gag reflex seemed to be nonexistent for once. He closed his eyes, losing himself in the pleasure of letting his lover fill him in a different way than what he was used to, but a no less pleasant one.

Was he tasting himself on his tongue when he did this? No, no, this was John's taste; no one else could have that particular tang, not even himself. This was his body, in a way, but not him; this was the body he loved, the body he wanted to lose himself in for the rest of eternity.

This was the man he wanted to make love with, the man he wanted to be a part of him for the rest of his life. The man he wanted to give himself to, in every possible way.

John's hands were in his hair again, guiding his mouth; those long fingers were tugging slightly, but not pulling, not telling him to stop. He continued the movement of his mouth on John's cock, feeling the other man's muscles tightening beneath his hands.

He knew his lover well; it would only be a few moments before John was at the edge, pushed past the point of no return. He could hear the other man's gasps, almost feel his single heart racing in tandem with the Time Lord's own dual heartbeats.

With a soft cry of the Doctor's name, John let himself go; the Time Lord swallowed convulsively, taken a bit by surprise even though he'd expected the sudden rush. That taste was undeniably John's; he couldn't imagine himself having the same unique taste.

It took him a few moments to regain his equilibrium; he didn't want to relinquish his intimate contact with the other man, didn't want to let John's softening cock slip from his mouth. But he finally did, with a soft sigh almost of regret, pressing his lips to the soft flesh of John's inner thighs.

He made his way back up the other man's body slowly, kissing his way up John's stomach, up to his chest, nibbling at his throat before pressing his mouth against the other man's slightly swollen lips.

It seemed a long time before he could speak; words failed him in every way. All he could do was lie there and look into John's eyes, his arms wrapped around the other man, their gazes locked with each other's in a way that didn't need words to express how they felt.

Finally, the words seemed to find their way to his lips unbidden. "I would do anything to make you feel how much I love you," he whispered, hoping that those words were what John needed to hear; he had no other way to put his feelings into speech.

"I know," John murmured, those soft lips brushing against his cheek. "And you did, Doctor. I only hope that I can show you just how much I love you, too." He tugged at the Time Lord's shirt, a smile curving his lips. "You're a bit overdressed, aren't you?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, surprised and delighted at what John seemed to be trying to tell him. "Are you saying that you want to --?" He let the question hover in the air, almost holding his breath in anticipation of what he might hear.

John nodded, his eyes serious as he regarded the Doctor. "Yes," he whispered, that one word as full of promise as the look in his eyes. "I want to make love to you."

The Doctor smiled, sure that he'd be able to strip out of his clothes in record time.

***