Title: Wild Card
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Peter Carlisle
Fandom: Doctor Who/Blackpool
Rating: NC-17
Table: C, lover100
Prompt: 24, Handcuffs
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 Peter Carlisle. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor looked up as Peter entered their bedroom on the Tardis, one hand behind his back, an enigmatic look on his face. The Time Lord put down the book he'd been reading, arching an eyebrow in question as he looked over at his lover.

"What is that look for?" he asked, his voice betraying his curiosity. "The only time I've ever seen you look like that is when you thought you could beat me at chess." He smirked as he set the book aside, rolling onto his side and propping his chin on one hand. "And you couldn't."

"Oh, I didn't realize that I had any kind of 'look,'" Peter told him, advancing a few steps into the room with that slight smile still on his face. The Doctor was puzzled; what in the world was Peter hiding behind his back?

But he decided not to ask about that; he'd let his boyfriend reveal whatever it was in his own good time. Maybe it was some kind of gift, he thought with a smile, leaning back against the pillows and crossing his arms behind his head.

"You do," the Doctor told him, smiling and moving over on the bed to make room for his boyfriend beside him. "Mind telling me what it's all about?"

Peter was standing by the bed now, one hand still holding something behind his back, smiling as he looked down at the Doctor. The Time Lord was in a state of undress; he'd been waiting for the other man to come into the bedroom for the last half hour or so.

"It's about this," Peter said softly, sitting down on the bed and bringing his hand from behind his back so the Doctor could see what he held. He barely had time to let out a startled gasp before the other man had captured his wrists, holding them above his head.

The Doctor's eyes widened as first one wrist and then the other were secured to the railing at the hed of the bed by the pair of handcuffs that Peter had been holding. His boyfriend sat back, looking down at him and smirking.

"I distinctly recall you telling me not too long ago that you'd prefer for me to use my handcuffs to tie you to the bed," he said, his voice deep and husky. "So I thought this might be as good a time as any to find out if you really meant that."

Peter was leaning over him, looking down at him with a look in his eyes that the Doctor knew very well. A look of challenge -- and desire.

There was no need for him to be nervous, he told himself, taking a deep breath and letting himself relax. Peter wasn't the Master; he didn't have any idea of some of the things that maniac had done to him. He wouldn't do anything that would hurt.

"Of course I meant it," he said softly, his gaze locking with his lover's. "It was a little sudden, that's all -- I didn't expect it. But it's certainly not unwelcome," he added softly, squirming slightly and tugging at the cuffs.

Peter leaned over him, meeting his gaze directly. There was no deception in those dark eyes; this man would never do anything to harm him. He trusted Peter completely; there was absolutely no reason for him not do do so.

"If you don't want this, just tell me," he said quietly, smoothing one hand over the Doctor's cheek, his thumb caressing the Time Lord's full lower lip. "I'll stop if you're not comfortable. All you have to do is say the words."

The Doctor nodded, swallowing hard and taking another deep breath. Of course he trusted Peter -- and he wasn't going to ask his lover to stop.

"What I want is for you to get out of those clothes," he whispered, his voice a little breathless with anticipation. "I think you're a little overdressed, aren't you? Especially considering that you're wearing twice as much as I am."

He punctuated his words by squirming again, bucking his hips upwards a little. He wasn't wearing anything but pajama pants -- and he knew that those would be easily and quickly removed once Peter got out of his own clothes.

Peter wasted no time in stripping off his t-shirt, then quickly unbuttoning his jeans and letting them slide to the floor. The Doctor let his eyes roam over that gorgeous body as Peter stepped out of the jeans and kicked them aside.

His eyes moved over Peter's body as the other man moved to the bed, straddling him in one quick movement. As their eyes met, Peter's hands went to the waistband of the Doctor's pajama pants and pulled them down and off, tossing them to the floor with his own discarded clothes.

The Doctor closed his eyes as Peter's hands moved over his hips, up his sides to wrap around his waist and pull him against that gorgeous body, his lover's mouth coming down on his.

When the Master had tied him to his bed and taken him, it had never been like this, he thought, his senses whirling into a vortex that sucked the breath from his lungs. That had been frightening, an experience he never wanted to live through again.

Peter's touch was nothing like that; there was nothing but pleasure coursing through his body, with none of the attendant fear of not being able to touch in return. All he could feel was desire, running through him with the force of a tidal wave.

The Time Lord squirmed again when Peter lifted his hips, one hand reaching for the bottle of lube on the table by their bed. That was one thing that they always kept handy -- there was no way of knowing when they would need it, like now.

His muscles strained against the handcuffs, pulling at them slightly; but it was impossible to free his wrists from the leather-lined metal. His head fell back against the pillow, his eyes closing, a soft moan leaving his lips as his body arched upwards against his lover's hands.

It only took a few moments for Peter to prepare him; then, lifting the Doctor's hips, the other man positioned himself, sliding into the Time Lord with a soft groan.

The Doctor opened his eyes, looking up at Peter, watching the other man as their bodies moved together in a slow, primal rhythm. Peter's hands were on his shoulders, those hips rocking forward, thrusting into him slowly, filling him, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through his body.

He could feel his orgasm overtaking him all too quickly; in just a few moments, this intense pleasure would end, even though both of them wanted it to keep going on and on forever. One look at Peter's face told him that his lover was just as close to the edge as he was.

The Time Lord cried out Peter's name as he came, barely hearing the other man's voice mingling with his own. He dimly felt Peter collapse on top of him, his lover's arms sliding around his waist, their heartbeats mingling together as their gasps for breath collided in the still air.

After what seemed like a very long time, Peter rolled onto his side, keeping one arm firmly around the Doctor as he reached behind him and fumbled in the drawer of the bedside table. The Doctor watched as he produced a key, using it to unlock the cuffs around his wrists.

"So the key was there all the time?" he said, shaking his head and laughing ruefully. "I'd never have known it. You did a good job of hiding those, you sneaky little monkey."

"And you did a wonderful job of .... just being you," Peter laughed, taking the Doctor into his arms and pressing a soft kiss against his mouth. "I hope you'll want to do that again sometime -- though I doubt you'd be as surprised a second time."

"Oh, I don't know about that," the Doctor laughed, snuggling into his lover's arms. "I don't believe you'll ever stop thinking up ways to surprise me. It's going to be interesting to see just what you might be able to come up with next."

"I think I'll keep you in suspense about it for a while," Peter teased, reaching for the light switch on the lamp by the bed and turning it off before he settled comfortably under the covers, the Doctor in his arms. "To make it a bit more of a wild card, so to speak."

"I'll be waiting with bated breath," the Doctor whispered as Peter's lips met his again, wrapping his thin arms around the other man's waist and giving himself over to his lover's ardent embrace.

***