makemeasong | Open post/meme overflow 💫

[There's something soothing about domestic actions that he doesn't realize he's missed - although to be fair this reincarnation of himself enjoyed eating and food preparation more than he'd thought it would. But this time there's a feeling of contentedness that he hadn't felt before. Every so often he glances out the dividing wall between the kitchen and the living room and spots Clara - his wife, he thinks - pouring over books. He suspects that the added layer has everything to do with her.

He knows that there's always room for things to go wrong, but there's also a part of him that feels in his bones that they'll figure this problem out together.

He returns with their mugs of hot cocoa and additional fixings that begins serving out to her.]

Find anything interesting yet?

Maybe. [ She thanks him for the mug, then glances back down at the book in her lap. ]

If we're looking at fairytales first, almost all of them have some sort of true love's kiss to end a sleeping curse, but that's the problem. I'm...awake, and anyway, we have to trick my body into thinking it needs to regenerate.

[ She glances at him because she knows there's really only one way to do that, but she keeps going because it's a last resort. ]

There's the Sisterhood of Karn but we can't trust them, Doctor. They'll take something from us, from you.

Edited 2022-08-14 12:26 (UTC)

[His brows furrow, reaching over to give her hand a squeeze.] They're a last resort. [He immediately seems to snap out of it though, tugging on the line that Clara had mentioned, eyes going wide as he starts to search for a particular book he suddenly has in mind.]

We could put you to sleep though! Plenty of ways to trick your body into thinking that you're dying, forcing the regeneration function to begin.

[ Clara's brow furrows but only as she thinks about his words. ]

Put me to sleep? [ Are they basically poisoning her? ]

What are you thinking, what do you remember? [ She watches as he looks for something, apprehension and excitement swelling in her chest like hope. ]

[Yeah they're basically poisoning her. It's not the choice he wants, but it's the lesser of all the evils they've come up with before.]

It would be the least invasive way. I can give you some pleasant dreams while it's happening to make the experience more comfortable - aha! [He's climbing up a ladder as he's speaking before triumphantly locating the book he had been looking for. Bringing it down to Clara, it's a gorgeous embossed book full of meticulously drawn sketches of plants and herbs.]

There's an herb native to this world, only grows under certain conditions. Deadly too if prepared wrong but if we find it we can dilute it so that we bring your body to a close enough state of death. [He finally finds the page he's looking for and it's a stunning plant - fern-like in appearance but with soft, shifting colours that meld into one another.] This could work.

[ It could work, and Clara chews at her bottom lip, biting at her thumb. She trust him; even before their memories were returned, she trusts him with her life. Putting down her cocoa, she walks to him and looks at the book, running her fingers over the page. ]

I trust you. If we can find the herb, then we should do this.

[ Looking up at him, her eyes search his. They've only just remembered everything, and she doesn't want to lose him again. But until they try, she'll never be alive again, and she straightens her back, looking up at him. ]

It'll work.

We can. It's here. [His gaze has moved away from the sketch and back to her. The thought crosses his mind again that she's so brave. She has always been so, so, brave even before she remembered their past together. Even when she was a human. She was braver than he'd ever be.]

It unfurls in the brief moments between twilight and dawn. We'll have to be ready for it. [He tries to keep the situation light, like it's just another one of their adventures.] But until then we have a whole day ahead of us.

Whole day, huh?

[ If this doesn't work, then they'll have this, at least. One whole day to make up for an entire life lost together. She's brave, but she also feels like just in case, they should spend the time as close as possible. ]

Forget books then, for a while. Come wrap me up in that quilt you hate.

[ Clara smiles at him softly; she's essentially asked him to come to bed with her, and she holds his gaze as the images float through her mind. Of course, it's their old bodies because it's all she has memories of, but he'll get the idea. ]

[Once again he's a beat behind his wife. He expects her to suggest something else. Baking. Exploring the land around the cabin. Cuddling at the very least - but he realizes when the memories of their former selves tangled in sheets, sweet and passionate kisses fill his mind that he wasn't too far off with the last one.

Pink colours his cheeks again and he clears his throat snapping the book shut and leading her up to the room.]

You in the quilt would vastly improve it.

[ In these bodies, before they knew they'd spent a lifetime together, they'd seen one another in all sorts of states. And in his last body, he was remarkably comfortable with nudity so she's certainly been treated to eyefuls. But this is different.

Time Lords don't do this, they're above it all, and yet somehow the two of them found one another and figured it out. Awkward limbs, chaste kisses - they were so young then, even if their faces were both older looking. The pleasure was wonderful, but the love they figured out from all of that exploring was intoxicating. When they were alone, it was the before and the after she loved; the building up and up until all it took was a look from her husband to completely undo her. And then the after, breathing one another in, leaving chaste kisses between his hearts, nuzzling the sparse chest hair there. They learned everything about the other, everything their parents told them was forbidden.

And then they ran away together. She never regretted it, not for a single moment.

Now they don't know one another's bodies. She doesn't know how he feels, what he likes, how he'll react to things that used to make him bury his face against her neck and groan her name. Then there's her own body. She's wider in some places, not as lithe, not as statuesque as she once was. Neither of them are so shallow, but she thinks it might be natural to worry.

She doesn't need to take a breath but she does anyway as she looks at him. There is nothing she expects, but she desperately wants to feel his skin against hers if it's the only chance she has. ]

Are you as nervous as I am?

Extremely.

[There's no point in lying to her about it. He's shared when he isn't okay with her before in the face of dangerous scenarios and when he felt grief that overflowed. They've had many firsts together and this is no different. There were no secrets between them. Besides, even if he didn't verbally tell her, he knew she'd be able to tell in an instant.]

But like I said we have all day.

[There's no need to rush. They arrive in the bedroom and he finds himself uncertain about what to do. He knows of course, but these are new bodies. He could still easily pick her up and throw her onto the bed but neither of them want that in this moment. They want to savor it. So he starts with what he knows. His kisses to her hand are soft and gentle and he trails them up her arm, towards the crook of her neck where he brushes aside the hair there. He's nothing short of attentive and eventually he picks her up, scooping her onto the bed, intertwining his hands with hers to continue his exploration of her body.]

[ She's glad they're in no rush, needing to savor this. If she dies, she wants him to be able to commit everything to memory and remember.

There's no heartbeat where there should be, against her wrist, against her neck. But she tries not to think about it. She doesn't breathe, either, but her body hasn't given up the habit and it hitches when he kisses her neck, reaching out to wrap her hand around his arm as her head tilts for him.

On the bed she lets him undress her, piece by piece, savoring every touch, every press of his lips against her skin. She needs to feel his skin against hers before she loses her mind, and so the only rushed movement she makes is to ensure sure they're both topless. That press of them together slows her down again and as she kisses his chest, a tear drops onto his skin. ]

We lost so much time.

[ Her voice is quiet, mournful, and she presses her forehead to his shoulder, closing her eyes and dragging her hand up and down his side slowly. ]

[He knows that there's no heartbeat beneath her skin but it doesn't make her body any less warm, her touch any less like sparks against his skin. He goes to brush the tear away with his lips, cupping her face gently with his hands.]

But we have so much more ahead of us.

[It's said with such conviction and it's said in a way that he wants her to believe it - for himself to believe it. The rest of their clothes eventually become a pile on the floor. He continues to take his time exploring each curve of her body and letting her explore his. His body is flush with desire and he finds himself short of breath, lips swollen from kissing her as he makes his way south. Before going further he looks up towards her.]

May I...?

[ He's flushed enough for both of them; she knows if he could give her one of his hearts, he would. Her hands have made a complete mess of his hair, and then her hands are far from idle, moving over his skin, trailing her lips in their wake as far as she can reach.

When he explores, he'll find a tattoo on her hip, nothing large, and something her. A small smile curves her lips, realizing there's a surprise for him to discover and she nods. ]

Of course. Always. I'm yours.

[ Her fingers are in his hair again and she scratches his scalp gently. She feels like she's been baking in desert heat, dried out without his touch. Now she's soaking every single touch up eagerly, whimpering softly at another brush of his lips. ]

Edited 2022-08-14 23:44 (UTC)

[The tattoo is a surprise, but a pleasant one. It dawns on him that he would have gone forever without knowing that she ever had it had he not found her before she decided to go to Gallifrey. He pauses to trace the delicate colours and shapes making a mental note to ask her about it later.

With her permission his lips revere her, taking his time to taste every part of her on his tongue. Clara's fingers in his hair only urges him on. The desire to ensure that she feels loved is his motivation and the soft sighs from her mouth make him know that he's going in the right direction.]

Edited 2022-08-14 23:57 (UTC)

[ He makes her feel alive again, and her body has no idea that she isn't supposed to be panting at all, let alone this heavily. His name leaves her lips as another whimper that turns into a gasped curse in Gallifreyan when he finds a spot that makes her jerk. ]

There. Again. [ It's a breathless request, wanting to feel his lips against that spot on her skin until he's tired of it. ]

[But that's the thing: he would never get tired of anything related to her.

Hearing her reactions make him grin against her and he no choice but to oblige. His fingers dig gently into her thighs as he continues at her request this time with more intensity.]

[ If he was hoping to hear her cry out his name, he gets his wish as her back arches and her fingernails leave half-moon marks on his shoulders. Clara's eyes are closed, dots of light floating behind her eyelids.

It takes time for her to finally relax, shuddering every now and then as her pleasure ebbs. When her eyes open, her pupils are blown wide and she reaches for him. ]

Come home. [ It's a whisper that has tears behind it. She tugs at him, drawing a leg up over his hip. ] I missed you.

[Until she cried his name he didn't realize how much he had missed hearing it. But it wasn't just hearing it, it was because it was from Clara's lips.

When he comes up for a breath his eyes are cloudy from desire. Before he fulfills his request he goes to kiss her briefly letting the taste of her mingle with his own before guiding himself into her. Clara's name leaves his lips muffled as he pressed his lips into her collarbones, her neck - any piece of exposed skin he can reach.]

[ She's holding him as close to her body as she can; she can't seem to stop crying, her tears falling against the Doctor's shoulder. They aren't necessarily sad, just overwhelmed in a good way, a way that's so large it overflows.

She whispers quiet words to him in their native tongue, kissing him just below his ear, letting her teeth scrape along his shoulder. There isn't anything else in the universe that has ever compared to being loved by him. One of her hands glides down his arm and Clara takes his hand, tangling their fingers together as she gasps and encourages him to keep moving, to lose himself in her as she crests and peaks again. ]

[Their bodies move together like no time has passed at all. Her words drip with honey and he whispers his own sentiments back in return between gasps and breathes as he relishes all the sensations that are Clara - the feel of her teeth on his collarbone, the smell of stardust mingling with their sweat, and the feel of her pressing against him warm and sweet from all sides. It's hard not to get lost in it all.

The heat between them grows, and he feels the pressure inside him begin to peak. Soon after a wave of pleasure crashes against him and the Doctor gasps her name, pressing breathless kisses to her lips.]

[ The feel of him losing himself in her is everything, her lips parted against his as she tries to kiss him, breathing his air, forcing it into her lungs that feel overworked for the first time in centuries.

When they're both still, Clara cradles him in her arms, keeping him close. She kisses the dip between his neck and shoulder before carefully shifting onto her side, draping one leg over his hip and tucking her small body into his arms. It's the way she's craved to be held, and the knowledge that she's been craving her husband this entire time only makes sense.

With her head tucked under his chin, she listens to his hearts beat quietly, dragging the tips of her fingers up and down his side. It's a quiet moment, pressing kisses to his skin every now and then. ]

I missed you so much. [ Her voice shakes a little with emotion but she lets out a bark of laugh. ] No wonder we bicker like an old married couple.

[The afterglow settles on his body leaving him content, sopmething that he hadn't felt in a while. He rests his chin on her head, pressing butterfly kisses into her hair. A tired chuckle leaves his lips.]

That does explain a lot, doesn't it? [He presses a prolonged kiss to her hair.] I missed you too.

[ Shifting, she takes her time kissing him for a few while, drinking him in because she can because she's his wife, and then settles against him again. ]

Do you remember that night we stole that bottle of expensive wine from my parents? We laid out in a field together and shared it, and I think that was the first time I ever kissed you.

[ Because let's face it, she would definitely have to make the first move. ]

That was the worst bottle of wine I had ever tasted but thank god you did. [He draws lazy circles in the dip of her hip and waist.] I wouldn't have had the liquid courage to kiss you back.

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