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Yaz is being sneaky.
Very, very sneaky.
Has been since they’d left their latest visit to Earth, honestly. Graham and Ryan don’t seem to notice anything amiss, but they weren’t the ones who saw her /sneakily/ shove a curiously sized box into her bedroom.
The Doctor saw her, though, and her curiosity has been piqued every since. Glancing at Yaz from the corner of her eye, the Doctor tries to speak as casually as possible to the whole fam. “So,” she starts, voice /maybe/ a bit higher than it ought to be, “fam. Do anything interesting on your time off the TARDIS? Seen anything? /Acquired/ anything?”
“I, uh, ate a sarnie bigger than me head, and Graham watched,” Ryan informs her, nodding importantly.
Graham, beaming proudly, confirms this. “Unhinged his jaw like a snake, I reckon. Gave me the creeps but I can’t say it didn’t make me a bit proud.” He claps Ryan on the shoulder, who grins.
“‘Course that’s what you two did,” Yaz laughs, and the Doctor pouts because that is absolutely /not/ answering the question. Sneaky trick, Yaz.
The Doctor hates sneakiness, unless she’s the one doing the sneaking.
Here is a comprehensive list explaining why the Doctor hates sneakiness, especially in this case:
Her and Yaz have been, predictably, closer than ever since their first…encounter.
However, no other encounter of the sorts has happened since then.
This puts the Doctor on edge, as she is terrified of having made her best friend uncomfortable.
The Doctor has reason to believe, though, that the snuck and hidden object in question is decidedly naughty in nature.
This means she REALLY, REALLY, REALLY wants to know what it is.
For science.
Now, how to get to the bottom of this…
“Right, well, I’m glad you all had fun. You humans and your desire to eat food bigger than parts of your body…,” The Doctor trails off, tutting under her breath. “Off we pop! You boys go rest up. Yaz, mind helping me with some official TARDIS maintenance?”
Graham and Ryan shoot each other a terrified, knowing look and practically scuttle off, with Graham murmuring, “C’mon, son,” and clapping Ryan on the shoulder on their way out.
Really, the Doctor thought she was being more subtle.
“Official TARDIS maintenance, huh?” Yaz intones once they’re alone, and okay, maybe she wasn’t /that/ subtle.
The Doctor beams back at her, sonic already in hand as she kicks open a gate on the slatted TARDIS floor to slide under the main console. “Yep! Old girl needs some tuning, is all.” She pats some nearby TARDIS bits affectionately, making Yaz grin and step a bit closer.
“Actually,” Yaz starts lightly, “I was thinking about…heading to bed early. If that’s alright with you.”
Ouch. Turning to the console now, the Doctor lets her smile falter as she sonics open the nearest plate of it. “Yeah! Yeah, of course. Humans need their rest. I’ll be here, I can manage.” If she doesn’t look back up at Yaz, she won’t look like a heartsick fool. Now, where was that extra bit of coil…
“…Doctor.”
The Doctor makes a noncommittal noise as she works, shifting a bit to get more comfortable.
“Doctor. You’re coming with me. To bed. Early.”
…The Doctor looks up, eyes wide with shock, blinking, very cool and collected. Yaz smirks back, one eyebrow raised as she crosses her arms. “That alright with you?” she asks jokingly.
Her poor sonic doesn’t even finish clattering down by the time the Doctor’s up and running.
~
Okay, perhaps the Doctor was a bit hasty earlier when she wrote off Yaz being sneaky as a bad thing. She swallows thickly as Yaz adjusts the straps on the dildo’s harness, wearing just that and nothing else. Smiling in that dangerously sweet way she does, Yaz steps in front of the bed and idly strokes the tantalizingly realistic cock that’s now attached to her. She’s all smooth brown skin and perfect curves, the figure cut only by the cock in question before continuing into those /ridiculous/ legs. The Doctor’s mouth waters and she sits up on the bed, knee-walking over to the edge like a woman possessed.
“Do you like your surprise, Doctor?” Yaz asks softly, her free hand coming down to pet the Doctor’s hair when she’s close enough. “Figured this would be just the thing to help us…explore.”
“Uh…huh,” the Doctor eloquently responds with brilliance. The hand in her hair moves to cup her cheek, thumb brushing against her lower lip. With a shuddering breath and heat she swears may be her end, the Doctor lets that thumb in, tongue swiping over the pad of it.
“You used to have a cock, right?” Yaz prods, pressing down on the Doctor’s tongue and making her whine and nod, making her hands come up to grip Yaz’s hips. “D’you remember what it felt like?” The hand stroking the dildo pauses to guide it to the Doctor’s mouth, her thumb leaving a damp trail down the Doctor’s cheek as the silicone tip presses against her lips. All the Doctor can do is moan and let it in. “D’you remember what it felt like to have your cock sucked, Doctor?”
Of course she does. She remembers the hot, slick heat of a willing mouth, the velvet feel of it around every inch of her. She remembers the tingling down her shaft and through her balls with every thrust, how it felt like liquid heaven. And while she’s certainly sucked her fair share of cock, having Yaz talk about it like /this/ is something very, very new to her.
Not wanting to leave the question hanging, the Doctor looks up at Yaz through her lashes and nods around the heavy weight in her mouth, taking it in until her lips brush the smooth leather of the harness. “God,” Yaz sighs, biting her lower lip as she strokes the Doctor’s hair from her face. She swallows thickly when the Doctor starts to bob her head, tongue caressing every inch of the cock like it’s real. “God,” Yaz repeats, “it’s like…I can /feel/ you. I can’t, but when I watch you I swear I can. You’re so pretty on your knees, baby. So pretty when you let me take control.”
The Doctor whimpers in response.
“How many mouths have you fucked like this, Doctor?” she croons, slowly thrusting her hips as the Doctor’s eyes flutter shut. “Dozens? Hundreds? Dirty thing like you got around, that I know for sure.” She’s not wrong, the Doctor admits, swallowing around the length of the cock with an affirming hum. “Mmm, that’s what I thought. Get it all nice and wet, Doctor. I’m going to show you /exactly/ how fun having a vagina can be.”
That shouldn’t be such a hot sentence. The word vagina is seldom ever hot. And yet, here the Doctor is, dripping down her own thighs.
Yaz pulls the cock from the Doctor’s throat, tutting softly at the little sound of disappointment that follows, before she straddles the Doctor’s lap to kiss her. The cock presses wetly to the Doctor’s stomach, mouth-warm and slippery, and she arches closer to it as she greedily strokes every inch of Yaz’s body she can reach. She kisses back with as much finesse as she’s capable of at the moment as she palms the perfect heft of Yaz’s breasts, thumbing over her nipples and making her hum into the Doctor’s mouth. All too soon, Yaz is sitting back with a coy grin and pushing the Doctor to lie flat, kneeing between her legs to spread them.
A bit apprehensive, the Doctor leans up on her elbows and plants her feet flat on the bed with wide-spread knees, casting a worried glance at the…very small space between her legs. “I’m…I might need more than, er, just…natural, fluids,” the Doctor mentions. Yaz reaches into the fallen paper bag on the side of the bed that once held the strap-on and pulls out a full bottle of lube with a little wave.
“Don’t worry, Doctor,” she reassures, pressing a soft kiss to her thigh, “I’ll always take care of you, okay? This isn’t my first rodeo.”
And doesn’t that just make the Doctor feel all warm and fuzzy inside?
Taking a deep breath because /gods/, is she turned on, the Doctor grins at her and settles back on the bed, happy as can be. “Right. Yeah, shouldn’t have doubted you, Yasmin Khan. Last time I make that mistake. Really should know better. You’re brilliant, you are. Never let me down. Really, I—/ah/.” The Doctor arches her back with a sharp inhale as a finger pushes into her.
“Sorry,” Yaz apologizes unapologetically, all smiles and teeth. “You were rambling.” Nodding her agreement, the Doctor squeezes her eyes shut tightly as she adjusts to the still-foreign feeling of something inside of her, hips rolling towards it. “There we are…,” Yaz coos, slowly pushing in a second finger as soon as she’s able, leaning up to suck one of the Doctor’s nipples into her mouth as she thrusts, deep and strong. Moaning lowly, the Doctor cradles the back of Yaz’s head with one hand and grips the covers with the other. It seems like Yaz knows her body better than she does, hitting every spot inside of her and lighting her up. She can hardly believe this is only the prep.
“Ready for a third?” Yaz murmurs against her breast a couple pleasure-filled moments later. The Doctor can’t nod fast enough and Yaz giggles a little as she complies, curling all fingers in the Doctor’s heat on each up-thrust. It feels almost like being punched from the inside. It feels bloody /amazing/.
“Oh gods, Yaz, yeah, like that,” the Doctor moans out, voice high and light as she wriggles beneath her.
“Yeah, baby? This good?”
“/Yes/, yes, so good, ’s so good…” she trails off with a grunt, knees spreading wider in a vain effort to get Yaz in /deeper/. Suddenly and all at once, those perfect fingers aren’t enough. “I’m ready, Yaz, I’m ready.”
“Say please,” Yaz orders, albeit lightly, as she trails kisses down the Doctor’s torso to suck an open-mouthed tease on the Doctor’s clit, making her practically jackknife off the bed.
“/Please/, Yaz!” the Doctor grits through her teeth, hazy eyes opening to implore down at Yaz. “/Please/, just fuck me already.”
Well. Yaz isn’t going to say no to that.
Yaz pulls her fingers free and sucks them clean, delighting in the strained moan the sight rips from the Doctor (and ignoring the plastic-y taste of lube amongst the actual flavor of her lover), and sits up, grabbing the discarded bottle from somewhere by their feet. She pours a generous amount onto each hand, one rubbing liberally onto the cock and the other smearing tenderly around and in the Doctor’s entrance, paying special attention to the rim of it towards the bottom. Distantly, the Doctor remembers Rose telling her about “the Chafing Spot” vaginas have, back when she still wore converse.
She’s so lucky to be cared for like this.
After a cursory wipe on the covers to dry her hands, Yaz grabs the Doctor’s thighs and angles her appropriately. She waits until the Doctor’s enthusiastic nod to start pushing the head of the cock into her, stilling at every wince and wriggle, and she keeps pressing in until they’re finally flush together. The Doctor had mistakenly assumed that since the cock was fake and detachable that this act would feel less intimate, but it feels so the opposite for a few moments all she can do is hug Yaz as close as she can. Yaz understands as always, murmuring sweet nothings in the Doctor’s ear and nuzzling her cheek, keeping as pushed into her as possible.
It’s, easily, one of the most amazing moments in the Doctor’s long life.
Soon enough, though, their baser needs present themselves, and through a silent and mutual understanding Yaz draws her hips back before slowly rolling them forward. The Doctor feels stretched and full in a way she never has while bottoming previously, and it’s instantly addictive. With a murmured, “more,” Yaz starts to thrust in earnest, balancing on her hands and thighs as she keeps her eyes on the Doctor’s face, and the Doctor keeps her eyes on Yaz’s.
“S’good?” Yaz asks between pants, putting more force behind the cants of her hips just to watch the way the Doctor arches into it, moaning and gasping beneath her like she was made to do so. She gets a frantic nod in response, the Doctor’s hands scrabbling against her back for purchase as she fucks faster into her.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, right there— /ah/, ah—,” the Doctor whimpers, head tossed back against the pillows. Deliriously she thinks she understands why Queen Elizabeth wanted to marry her so badly now. She’s half a mind to buy Yaz a ring after this. Every thrust is perfect, the pleasure shooting from her core to the tips of her fingers and toes, sparking up her nipples and tingling down her spine. All she can do is babble mindlessly for more, English and Gallifreyan slurring together.
Yaz is truly a pro at this. Barely faltering, she seems to have a sixth sense for when that dreadful Chafing Spot makes itself known, smearing more lube onto it between thrusts. She sits back on her heels suddenly and pulls the Doctor’s hips up to meet her, sliding in even deeper and giving her far more wonderful, wonderful leverage. The Doctor’s mouth drops open in a high, desperate moan, back and neck arching alike. Sheer pleasure makes her almost sob on every brutal thrust, climbing higher and higher, and when she opens her eyes and sees Yaz’s perfect, adoring, breathless smile as she absolutely takes the Doctor apart, all she can do is yell her name hoarse and shake into a toe-cramping orgasm.
Time loses meaning even in the Doctor’s mind. The waves of pleasure crashing through her seem never-ending and earth-shattering, until they recede and leave nothing but peace and contentment in their wake. Yaz is already kissing her by this time, and that’s just the best thing ever. The Doctor clutches her close with as much strength she still possesses (which isn’t much, honestly) until Yaz pulls away with a soft hum to discard of the strap-on and flop down next to her.
Reaching between Yaz’s legs is automatic but no less desired, but Yaz gently knocks the Doctor’s hand away and laughs at the resulting pout. “That was about you, Doctor. I wanted to do that for you.”
The Doctor snuggles closer to Yaz, the pout still very much in place. “I want to do /this/ for you,” she protests, hand eagerly waiting for permission on Yaz’s stomach, but Yaz just rolls her eyes fondly and kisses the tip of the Doctor’s nose.
“Tomorrow,” Yaz promises. “It’s late, and I’m tired, and you’re fucked out. Tomorrow, I promise, you can do whatever the hell you want to me.”
“…I can agree to those terms,” the Doctor decides, pulling Yaz into her so she can spoon one of her favorite humans. “Goodnight, Yaz. You’re amazing and brilliant and so, so much to me.”
With a happy sigh, Yaz tips her head back to kiss the Doctor softly, with all the emotion she has no words for yet. “Goodnight, my Doctor. …Ditto.” They share a giggle, and settle in to sleep.
…
….Oh.
Oh no.
“…Yaz?” the Doctor whispers, half-terrified as her realization solidifies.
“Mmm?”
“….We left the bedroom door open.”
In the dark of the room, Yaz’s eyes snap wide open.
Breakfast the next day is very, very silent.