Work Text:
Their Sunday morning had started out somewhat disappointing. The ringing of the phone had roused them at the crack of dawn. It was Torchwood, demanding Rose’s presence on site. She had kissed him back to sleep, promising to make it up to him later, and was long since gone when he woke an hour and a half later.
Rain was pattering steadily against the window, and he rolled onto his stomach, groaning, reaching out for Rose before he remembered. She was out in the field. Poor Rose. He sighed. He might as well get up and get some work done so he could spend as much time as possible with her when she returned. He hoped she wouldn’t be too long.
-:-
The Doctor loved the smell of Rose‘s baking even more than the actual outcome – which was always a delight, but there was nothing like the anticipation of the goodness she would set before him. Ever since she had triumphed with Tony‘s birthday cake she would bake when she was happy.
Smiling, he put down his pen as he realised the meaning of the smell wafting into the study. He’d been so engrossed in his research when she came home that he hadn’t really paid much attention to what she was doing until the smells began to permeate his subconscious.
She had returned from the field much more quickly than normal to find him hard at work. She’d set a sandwich down by his elbow, and ruffled his hair before going back to the kitchen and starting to bake.
Running his hands over his face, he got up to see what Rose was making. The ends of her hair were still damp from her shower, and, as always, she’d nicked one of his Oxfords to wear with her jeans. He laughed as he saw she was wearing two pairs of thick, woollen socks.
“You finished?” she asked, smiling.
“Yep.” He leaned down for a kiss. “What makes you so happy on this rainy day?”
“The idea of a lazy afternoon. Cuddling.”
“Kissing?” He touched his lips to hers, gently.
“Mm yes,” she sighed.
“Caressing?” He brushed her cheek with the backs of his hands.
“Definitely.”
“Uninterrupted?”
“Most decidedly.”
They kissed again, deepening the gesture. He pulled her towards him, his hands slipping beneath the heavy fabric of the shirt to find her skin.
He jumped, startled by the oven timer going off. Rose let go of him to get the cookies out and put them on a wire rack to cool. “Pine nuts and marzipan. I felt like a bit of sunshine today,” Rose explained as the scent of the golden cookies became even stronger.
“Brilliant idea,” he said, burning his fingers as he tried to steal one. He dropped the cookie back onto the tray and sucked his fingers into his mouth.
“Pardon me for not pitying you,” Rose snorted, transferring the cookies with a spatula to the wire rack.
-:-
He stole a cookie for each of them on his way from the bedroom to the parlour. It was still raining, and they had curled up in the window seat, with some hot cocoa, watching the raindrops beat relentlessly against the panes. Rose had pressed her palm against the cool glass, which had necessitated the hot drink to warm them. The garden wasn’t much to look at in late February; it only added to the melancholy mood of the day. Rose’s cheerfulness over the swift closing of the case had evaporated quickly, and she looked tired.
He gave her her book and the cookie, settling down opposite her. They arranged their legs with practised ease, and soon a quiet hush settled over the room as they sat reading.
-:-
It didn’t matter who started it. As darkness fell – properly, the day had never been really light to begin with – , they stopped reading, dropping their hands to the fastenings of their trousers, sliding their fingers inside to tease themselves.
The Doctor eventually moved closer to Rose helping her strip off her jeans and knickers as he unbuttoned her shirt to find that she’d not put a bra on after her shower. Nuzzling the edge of the shirt aside, he took her nipple between his lips, laving it with his tongue and biting down lightly. Rose gasped as his hands fell to her thighs, drawing small circles with his thumbs, and encouraging her to keep touching herself while he drew her forward and spread her legs apart. Her scent filled his nostrils and he groaned, sending a shiver through her.
“Doctor,” she sighed, arching into him.
He moved his hand to her shoulder to brush the fabric off, but she stopped him. Instead, she wiggled free to help him out of his jeans and pants, encouraged him to keep stroking himself as she undid the buttons on his shirt. She repaid him in kind, kissing and licking down his torso until the Doctor dragged her up for a kiss. “There’s a condom in my back pocket,” he mumbled.
Rose tore the wrapper open with her teeth and rolled the condom on him, giggling at their haste, and then, finally, she straddled him, nestling him against her slickness.
Despite their rush with the condom, Rose sank slowly down on him, giving both of them plenty of time to adjust before setting a lazy rhythm. It was a bit awkward at first in the narrow space of the window seat, but they accommodated each other soon enough.
They made love slowly, drawing out the experience, stopping when they felt they were getting too close, taking the time to explore and tease each other, and when they finally drove each other to completion their release was all the sweeter and more intense for it.
-:-
They fell asleep in their bed after they’d taken a shower together, and again it was Rose who woke him. He hadn’t realised she’d got up when the mattress dipped as she knelt, carefully balancing a tray in front of her.
“Supper in bed?” he grinned.
“The perfect ending to a lazy Sunday afternoon, don’t you think?” Rose teased, handing him a glass of red wine once he’d sat up.
“The only one.”