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Once, a couple of lifetimes ago, the Doctor had told someone that the TARDIS gets inside your head. That had been true. Or true enough for the moment, at least.
The bit he never seemed to have a moment to explain, though, was that for him, it worked both ways. After all these years, all these adventures, he had managed to get inside the TARDIS's head as well. Not on a very detailed level, mind you, but basic emotional impulses, signs of distress, that sort of thing. If something was wrong, either with the TARDIS herself or any of her passengers, he'd know it instantly. Conversely, if something was going well, he knew about it pretty quickly. Repairs, refueling, a companion singing her favorite song in the shower -- anything nice or enjoyable would manifest itself as a little echo of pleasure dancing along his skin.
He probably should have thought about that before choosing a couple of newlyweds as his companions.
He had left Amy and Rory to their own devices and was working innocently at the console when he felt the first little sparks, tickling up the back of his neck. He scrubbed a hand roughly through his hair, trying to focus on re-calibrating the ion stabilizers. The tingling continued, though, growing stronger by the second and spreading along his spine and out to the tips of his fingers. The Doctor gasped as a sensation he couldn't quite place washed over his neck and down his chest, concentrating in the pit of his stomach and other, somewhat lower areas.
"No, no, no," he muttered, doubling over and clutching the edge of the console. He tugged fitfully at the front of his trousers, which were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. This turned out to be a bad idea, because the brush of his fingers along his cock just seemed to make the energy run faster and hotter through his body. He hissed and pressed the heel of his hand against his erection. "Not good, very not good, what is going on?"
He pushed himself away from the console with some difficulty, hobbling down the stairs into one of the TARDIS's many hallways. The sparks seemed to surge, making him stumble and slide down against the wall, fingers grasping fitfully at nothing. The pleasure was bordering on pain, now, searing through his veins; he looked down at his shaking hands, half expecting to see golden light beaming from his skin.
His attempt at standing was thwarted by another burst of energy that sent his eyes rolling back in his head. He abandoned his efforts at getting back on his feet and crawled inch by inch down the hall.
Finally he reached a door, and the explosion of sensation all along his spine told him he'd found the cause of the problem. He collapsed against the door, trying to catch his breath and keep his hearts from pounding so hard in his chest. His hand groped in his coat pocket so he could sonic the handle open and find out what in the universe was doing this. He had just found right setting on the screwdriver when a burst of energy made his toes curl and his hips snap forward -- and just like that, it stopped.
The Doctor blinked and patted himself down thoroughly. He was still a bit disheveled, still breathing a bit heavily, but his heartbeats were almost back to normal and his erection was receding. Utterly confused, he looked up at the door he was slumped against.
A Post-It note stuck halfway up the door read, "Amy & Rory's Room." Another, six inches to the left and written in a hasty scrawl, said "Do Not Disturb!!"
The Doctor sighed and let his head fall back against the door with a soft thunk. This could get problematic.
The next time it happened, he was ready for it, at least a bit. They had just escaped from near-certain death for the third time that week, so he really couldn't blame Amy and Rory for making a beeline for their room.
When he felt the first pleasant humming in the back of his skull, he went and found a spare bedroom down a different hallway, sprinting inside and sonicking the door shut just before the sensation became too intense to ignore. He stumbled back onto the bed, already panting, and let the arousal wash from his torso out to his extremities and back again, its intensity multiplying with each successive wave. He gritted his teeth, his hands twitching closer and closer to his groin until he gave up and roughly undid his trousers, nearly sobbing when his cock sprang free; he was so turned on that one brush of long fingers down the length of his erection made his hips jerk. His strokes naturally fell in time with the pulses of energy, and as the biggest one yet welled up through his core he came, stuffing his fingers into his mouth to muffle his scream.
It seemed to end after that, all his vital signs returning to normal with bewildering speed. The Doctor wiped his hand on the sheets and returned to the console room, still flushed with embarrassment. Amy, wandering out of her room wearing different clothes and a sated smile on her face, looked at him quizzically.
"Something wrong?" she asked, flopping into a chair by the console. The Doctor did not look at the way her skirt rode up her long legs.
"Nothing at all," he said with forced cheeriness, and set a course for somewhere neither threatening nor romantic.
A few days later, when Amy and Rory started looking pointedly at each other and drifting towards their room, he threw the TARDIS into gear so quickly she sent an indignant pulse of negativity through his head. He landed them in the ornate marble lobby of a luxury hotel, and booked two rooms that were not adjoining, and let them do their thing while he went out and broke up an organized crime syndicate.
The problem was, there were only so many times he could distract them with jaunts to planets made entirely of snow or civilizations that produced the most amazing chocolate truffles in the known universe. Sooner or later they ended up in the TARDIS for an extended period of time, and Amy and Rory would inevitably get up to what couples do. The Doctor would lock himself in a spare bedroom and ride out the waves of pleasure by himself, feeling uncomfortably voyeuristic but at the same time strangely left out.
He was in the kitchen closest to the console room, having a nice cup of tea, when he felt it again: a pleasant warmth building in the back of his head. In his rush to get to the bedroom, he knocked his tea to the floor, slipping in the moisture as he scrambled for the door.
He made it out of the kitchen and rounded the corner at a sprint. Unfortunately for all concerned, Amy and Rory were standing in the middle of the hallway. Amy was kissing Rory passionately, one hand sneaking under the hem of his t-shirt — or she had been, until the Doctor barreled into her.
"Where's the fire?" Amy gasped, grabbing at Rory to keep her balance.
"Really, you two?" the Doctor said, scrubbing a hand over his very red face. "In the middle of the hallway? Is your bedroom not good enough anymore? Shall I get you a new one?"
"Sorry," Rory said, at Amy with raised eyebrows. "We didn't realize you were so opposed to PDA."
"Is something wrong?" Amy asked.
"No, nothing. Nothing." The Doctor cleared his throat loudly. The energy had faded by now, but this situation was proving to be even more uncomfortable.
"So where were you off to in such a hurry?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"Something to... fix," the Doctor said vaguely, tugging at his collar. "It's all better now, though. As long as you two... well. Let's go do something, shall we? Outside the TARDIS."
Amy's eyes narrowed. She grabbed Rory by the front of his shirt and kissed him thoroughly.
The Doctor's whole body jerked with sensation. He tried to sneak past them towards the console room, but Amy released her grip on Rory and grabbed for the Doctor's collar instead. The touch of her cool fingers on his neck made the Doctor shudder violently.
"Let me go, Pond," he said as sternly as one could when one was suddenly breathing very heavily.
She broke the kiss with Rory with a loud pop. "I told you," she told her husband, smirking.
"You did tell me," Rory said, looking intrigued.
"Told him what?" the Doctor demanded. "What did she tell you, Rory? What does she know?"
"There's been something... different happening whenever we have sex in the TARDIS," Amy said frankly. "It's like, Rory and I will be doing our thing, on the bed, but in our heads we're somewhere else. With someone else." She looked pointedly at the Doctor.
"Strange," the Doctor managed. He felt himself go red all the way up to the tips of his ears.
"So we were thinking," Rory said, sliding an arm around the Doctor’s waist, "That the solution would be to find the someone else, and get them into bed with us. Consolidate, like."
"Especially when we realized the someone else was you," Amy said.
"Especially then."
The Doctor's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. "It's just a bit of fluctuation in the telepathic field, I should be able to fix it," he said finally.
"But you haven't yet," Amy pointed out. "And Rory and I... well, we're energetic young things. Who knows how much we could get up to before you work out how to make it stop?" She toyed absently with the Doctor’s collar, tracing little circles on the side of his neck.
"This is a very, very bad idea," the Doctor said. He found that his hands were creeping away from his sides, though, traitors that they were; one landed on Amy’s waist, the other on Rory’s shoulder.
"You can fix the telepathic whatsit afterwards if you want, Doctor," Amy said confidently, stepping closer and nuzzling his ear.
"Or not," Rory said. "Completely up to you," and leaned forward to kiss the Doctor.
At the first touch of their lips, the pleasant energy bubbled up again, coursing through the Doctor's frame.
Rory made a desperate noise and broke the kiss. "Christ, is that what it feels like?" he asked, sounding amazed. "This whole time, that's what you've been feeling?"
"Shut up," the Doctor said, and dove back into the kiss, biting at Rory's lower lip and feeling an echoing twinge of pleasure.
Amy kissed up the side of the Doctor’s neck, licking just under his earlobe and making all three of them shudder as another bolt of energy shot through them. The hand that had been toying with the Doctor's collar moved to undo it, making quick work of his bow tie and buttons. Every tug of the fabric against his overheated skin sent another wave of pleasure radiating from the Doctor to Rory to Amy and back again, building until the Doctor reluctantly broke the kiss with Rory and stripped frantically out of the rest of his clothes.
As soon as he was naked, Amy pulled him close, her hands roaming the length of his body. The Doctor gasped against her mouth, pulling them backwards until he could feel the Rory's newly bared chest against his back. His foot tangled in the hem of Rory's jeans and he toppled sideways, taking Amy down with him.
They landed on the floor with her on top, and Amy immediately sat up and pulled off her jumper, leaning back down to kiss him even as she shrugged out of her bra. Rory eased himself down beside them, shedding his boxers in one smooth motion.
From that point, the whole thing got very messy and very, very wonderful. Rory's cock slipped between the Doctor's thighs, rubbing along his balls and the underside of his erection, and the Doctor ground back against him, moaning openly. Amy pulled the Doctor’s hand to her vulva and he slipped two fingers inside her, curving them up over and over when that movement made them all shriek in shared ecstasy. Rory brought one hand around to grasp the Doctor's cock, and as the pulsing energy peaked and boiled over they crashed one by one through their climaxes.
They lay in a pile, panting, the sensation fading from their bodies. Amy held a hand out over the Doctor’s head to Rory, who gave her an enthusiastic high five. The Doctor rolled his eyes and stretched out on the floor, snuggling against his companions.
"I really should see what's wrong with the telepathic field," the Doctor said the next week, mouthing the halfhearted protest against the curve of Rory’s hip.
"Later," Amy and Rory said in unison.
"Later," the Doctor agreed, and put his mouth to better use.