Rating: RATED M THIS CHAPTER! SEXYTIEMZ AND A DIRTY WORD!
Characters/Pairing: Ten/Rose with LOTS of others
Summary: Rose Tyler, a writer for Smash Hits magazine, gets the opportunity of her career when she's chosen to go on tour with the new teen sensation The Vortex Boys. What happens when appearances aren't really that deceiving after all?
Author's Notes: My first entry for trope_bingo. This will fill the "au:band" square. If you're at all curious about my card, you can click here! Not sure how long it's going to be, but there is a deadline so I'm going to work through it as quick as I can! MANY MANY MANY thanks to timelord1 , kelkat9 , who_in_whoville , callistawolf , and kahki for looking this chapter over and all of the ladies over in bad_wolf_rising who helped me plot! This is going to be a fun one, so I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
Rose felt a teeny bit guilty at leaving the show so early, especially after she and John had shared such a spectacular kiss. Still, she needed time to prepare, and she let Donna know where she was going in case he asked her. Donna had given her a knowing smile in return and promised to pass on the message.
The hotel was across the street from the stadium, and Rose was intensely grateful for the proximity. The schedule had varied as far as their accommodations, either they were hustled back on the bus right after each concert or they stayed the night in a city if there were additional performances, interviews, or appearances they had to attend. Rose said a silent thanks that tonight they happened to be in a hotel and she didn't have to try and shag a man she was completely mad for on a tiny bunk on a bus full of people.
Oh, God... Rose thought to herself, halting in the middle of the street. We're going to shag...and I haven't shaved my legs!
Rose quickened her steps and made it to her room, breathless, in less than five minutes. She had another hour until the show finished, and she used the time to her advantage. She cleared the bed of her computer and notebooks and cleaned herself up as best she could. Rose was glad she'd listened to Martha and Amy when they'd gone shopping the week before. They'd absolutely insisted she buy a pretty, lacy set of black undergarments. The thought struck her as she pulled on the items that perhaps they had been in on the conspiracy as well.
As she fastened the hooks on the bra, yet another complication dawned on her. What on Earth was she supposed to wear? Now that she was clean, she didn't want to put on the clothes she'd been wearing all day. But if she changed it would seem like she was trying too hard, but pajamas might seem like she wasn't trying hard enough, like she wasn't interested in more than just sleeping...
She froze as another sobering thought entered her mind. What if he wasn't interested? What if she had read him all wrong and this was just another mixed signal? What if he just wanted to kiss? What if he just wanted to talk? What if he wanted to tell her that the kiss had been a horrible mistake and they should just stay friends? What if he didn't show up at all?
Rose nearly slapped herself at the utterly ridiculous thoughts that were running rampant through her head. Pretending it was just another ordinary night in, she pulled on a pair of flattering yoga pants and a fitted, v-neck t-shirt, showing off a hint of cleavage without being too overt. She brushed out her hair and didn't bother reapplying her make up. He'd seen her face bare before and from the way he hadn't been able to keep his fingers from tracing over her skin, she knew he preferred it that way.
She'd just put down her hairbrush when a knock at the door made her jump and her heart begin to hammer in her chest. He'd shown up after all. Early as well, by her estimates. In fact, upon checking the room's clock radio, he seemed to have bolted across the street the moment the show ended. Opening the door, she realized the only thing missing from the closing number ensemble was his hands-free mic and battery pack. Rose grinned. Amy was going to kill him for wearing the custom outfit out of the arena. The long-sleeved, baby blue cotton top had with the mesh cut-out shapes had been custom-tailored to his frame and fit him like a second skin. Amy had paired the shirts with silver warm-up trousers and custom trainers. In fact, she'd gotten a pair of Chuck Taylors made for John, grey with accents of baby blue that matched the top perfectly.
Rose smiled and opened her mouth to greet him, but was struck dumb by the intensity in his gaze. John stepped over the threshold, cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. He let out a shuddering breath through his nose and Rose felt his body practically sag against her, the tension in his muscles seeming to uncoil gradually as they relaxed against each other and kissed, unhurried and languorously, until Rose finally had to reluctantly pull away to breath.
"Mmm," she murmured, stroking her fingers through the still-damp hair on the back of his neck. She vaguely registered him kicking the door shut behind him and chuckling.
"I'm sorry," he replied softly. "I've just...been thinking about that all night. Kissing you again." He chuckled. "I was missing steps in the routines. Had to keep jumping around and flailing my arms like an idiot so the crowd wouldn't notice. Bloody embarrassing. Leela is going to murder me tomorrow."
Rose grinned, John returning the expression he leaned in for another series of kisses, starting with gentle presses that turned longer and deeper, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips and plunging past as she gasped, threading her fingers into his magnificent hair and chuckling when she realized it was now coarse and stiff from drying sweat.
John pulled away with a questioning look and Rose grinned, her tongue caught between her teeth. "You really did come right here after the show, didn't you?"
"What...oh, yes, well...I suppose I'm a little bit manky...."
Rose giggled. "I don't mind, but you could always use my shower...if you want." She stood up on her tiptoes and began tracing kisses up his neck, sucking his earlobe ever-so-gently and whispered, "I could join you..." in his ear.
John gasped and gripped her waist so hard it was nearly painful. "That...might not be the best idea..."
She continued to move her lips around the shell of his ear and loved the way he ducked to give her better access. "Why's that?" she asked, her voice husky as she nibbled gently.
"God," he choked out, the rough quality of his voice causing a thrill to pass through Rose's entire body. He pulled her tighter to him and began fluttering his lips against her neck. "Because...we'll never leave...and if we're going to do what I think we're about to do...we are not doing it in the shower..."
"Hmmm," she teased, gasping as he pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat. "There are a lot of quality things about that shower..."
"Don't tempt me," he murmured against her neck. "My self control was stellar up to this point. You are single handedly causing it to crumble little by little. And I do not want to shag you in the shower. Well," He trailed off a bit, raising his head and grinning cheekily at her. "At least, not yet."
"Promises, promises," Rose teased once again, giving him one last gentle kiss before pushing him towards the ensuite. "It's all yours if you want it...just don't take too long..."
"Five minutes," he promised with a quick kiss before ducking into the small room and shutting the door behind him.
Rose let out a shuddering breath and ran her hands over her flushed face. While she would have been thrilled to keep kissing John, she was grateful for the few minutes to gather her wits. She moved to the dresser and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her lips were bright, swollen, and shining, her cheeks were pink, and her hair was in complete disarray. She grinned and realized that she looked thoroughly snogged. Rose had her share of boyfriends and had never thought much about the debauched, disheveled look a thorough kissing session gave her, but she found she didn't mind it. Especially as it was John doing the snogging.
She paced a bit as she listened to the shower running, still debating whether or not to just strip down and join him. But, with further thought, she knew he was right. As fantastic as she knew it would be, she didn't want their first time to be in a shower. She wanted him in bed, above her, so that she could watch his face as he came apart.
Rose shivered at the thought, and silently willed John to finish cleaning up soon.
As if reading her mind, the shower shut off. She sat on the edge of the bed and tried to arrange herself attractively, finally giving up when she heard the door to the ensuite open up and she couldn't stop herself from watching John as he exited.
Her breath caught. He hadn't dressed back in his clothes from the show, not that she had really expected him to, but the sight of him in just a towel, droplets of water still clinging to his skin, hair damp and smelling better than any man had a right to smell made her mouth go dry and her heart start racing in her chest.
John reached up with one hand to scratch the back of his neck in discomfort. "Erm...I may not have thought this thing through entirely..."
Rose grinned and pushed off the bed, moving towards him and completely focused on the sight of him mostly-naked in front of her. He was slim, definitely not muscled like his bandmates, but it fit him. He was lithe and graceful and moved so elegantly when he danced that it seemed like second nature. His pale chest was dotted with just enough chest hair to be attractive, and his tastefully-muscled abdomen featured a dark trail just below his navel that was begging to be explored.
Rose watched him gulp as she approached and she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing herself close to him as she took her time kissing up his neck, paying close attention to his Adam's apple. She felt a shudder run through his entire body at the contact. One hand found her hair, the other gripped at her hip as he whispered her name.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly. "Because I have to tell you now, there's no turning back. If we do this...I can't go back to just being your friend. Because I'm crazy about you. Really, properly mad for you and..."
"John," Rose whispered, gently guiding his face down to meet hers. She whispered, "I'm sure," against his lips before kissing him once more. He sighed and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her against him and Rose found her hands drifting to trace along the edge of his towel.
He shivered under her touch and the motion made the warmth that had been pooling in her stomach to flare. Before she lost her nerve, she found where the towel was tucked in and separated the rough material, letting it drift to the floor.
John gasped and broke their kiss, his chest heaving as he gazed at her in disbelief. "I can't believe you just did that."
"What?" she teased, dancing her fingers along his hips and loving the way his eyes slammed shut and he sucked in a breath at the motion. "You could always...even the odds?"
"Oh, yes," he breathed, dipping down for another kiss as his own hands sought out her waist beneath the thin cotton of her t-shirt. Rose gasped at the sensation, her head spinning at how unbelievably good it felt to have his skin on hers. He only broke the kiss to tug the garment over her head and smooth down the errant strands of her hair and returned his lips to hers immediately. The kiss turned feverish as he mapped out her torso with his clever fingers, fingers she'd seen plucking out gorgeous melodies on guitars and keyboards and had dreamt of having on her skin. He traced gently over her waist and danced over her ribcage until he finally closed over her breasts.
John groaned against her mouth and pulled back, his eyes heavy and half-lidded, tracing over her and zeroing on her lace-clad chest. He pulled her flush against him and the feeling of so much skin pressed together was practically dizzying. She could feel his arousal through the soft material of her trousers and she found herself suddenly ravenous for the feel of him with no barriers between them.
"You're beautiful," he murmured as he fluttered gentle kisses over her face. "So, so gorgeous, so sexy..."
"Bet you say that to all the girls."
Her response was meant to be teasing, gentle, flirty, but she knew instantly when he tensed under her hands that she'd struck something in him. He pulled back and gazed at her imploringly, taking her hands and entwining their fingers. "There are no other girls, Rose..."
Rose's heart swelled for him. "John..."
"No, really, I need to say this," he said, pressing his finger to her lips. "I mean, there have been other girls, before...a few, in the past. But not now. Not for a while. Just you."
The question escaped Rose's lips before she even had time to process it. "Why?"
Rose swallowed, glancing down at their joined hands. "'S just...you could have anyone you want. Any girl on the bloody planet...why me?"
John swept in and pressed a firm kiss to her lips, silencing any further protests. "Because you're Rose Tyler," he whispered after he'd pulled away. "Because you're brilliant and wonderful and your smile makes my knees wobble. Because you infuriate me and drive me mad and because..." His breath caught. "Because you look at me and see John Smith. Boring, ordinary Dr. Smith. And because of that, you are utterly extraordinary."
Rose felt warmth bubbling up through her entire being. He was laid bare before her, physically and emotionally, and all she wanted in the world was him.
Rather than respond, Rose stepped back, offering a gentle, reassuring smile at the confused look in his eyes. She reached behind her and released the hooks on her bra. Before she could slide the straps down her arms, John realized her intentions and stepped forward, bringing his hands up to cover hers.
"No," he whispered. "Let me..."
Rose smiled at him and let him remove the black, lacy garment. His eyes took in her bare torso hungrily as he absently tossed the bra somewhere in the room and backed Rose towards the bed.
Their gazes didn't stray as Rose lowered herself down, John covering her body with his and leaning in to kiss her once again. Rose whimpered as he moved his lips almost reverently down her neck, applying the lightest suction at her pulse point and causing her hips to rock up against his. He groaned and thrust back, hitting a perfect spot that caused her to nearly see stars.
She choked out his name and brought his hands to the waistband of her yoga pants. His labored breaths increased in anticipation, and he was practically panting against her neck as he gripped the stretchy fabric.
"Please," she whimpered against his temple.
John raised his head to briefly lock their gazes, kissing her once more before sliding his lips down her body, taking a detour at her breastbone to lavish sufficient attention at each nipple, causing her to writhe and cry out against him. Finally, his mouth reached her waistband and he began tugging it down far too slowly for Rose's taste. As every inch of skin was revealed, he trailed his lips over it, even placing an open-mouth kiss to her pink-tipped big toe and she giggled. Once he tossed the trousers somewhere behind him, he was upon her again, settling between her legs and kissing her deeply.
Rose's hands roamed over his skin hungrily, the lace of her knickers soaked through as he rocked his arousal against her. She could tell he was trying to hold back, trying not to lose control, but Rose was ready for him to. She wanted so badly for him to just shove the black fabric to the side and plunge into her heat, but she knew he wouldn't. She had to move things along before she combusted.
Rose snuck a hand down between them and grasped onto his erection, the action wrenching a long groan from John's throat as he began to thrust erratically into her hand.
"John," she whispered as she stroked him, loathe to break the spell over the moment but desperate to have the final hurdle cleared. "D'you have a condom?"
His head shot up to meet her gaze, his lust-clouded expression clearing just briefly before he groaned and dropped his head to her chest. "Ah. Yes...in my trouser pocket...in the ensuite..."
"Don't you dare move," he warned mock-sternly, pressing gentle kisses to her cheeks as he spoke. "Don't you move a muscle...an eyelash. I will be right back." He pulled away with some difficulty and scrambled towards the ensuite. Within what felt like seconds, he was back, a brightly-colored packet in his hand as he stretched out alongside her once more.
Rose raised an eyebrow at his choice in prophylactic. John grinned sheepishly and showed her the package, causing her to burst out laughing. The small, multi-colored package featured Jack's face grinning cheekily back at them.
"He slipped me a few as I was leaving," John explained, tracing a hand gently up and down Rose's side. "Got a huge box of these from Hong Kong and he thought they were too good to pass up. Totally unofficial, but don't tell Mr. Saxon. Jack doesn't want him to sue the company."
"Won't say a word," Rose promised, plucking the pack from his fingers. "He's not printed on the actual condom, is he?"
John guffawed. "No, from what I understand it's perfectly ordinary. Lucky for us. I don't know if I'd be able to...perform...with Jack looking at me the entire time."
"Can't say I blame you...might help the girl along though..."
"Oi!" he protested. "I'm making an effort not to be insulted!"
Rose grinned and leaned in to kiss away his pout, his lips curving into a smile as she ran her hands along his body. "Was just teasing you," she whispered, stroking between his legs once again.
"Good," he gasped, taking a cue from her and moving his hands from her breasts, trailing down her torso and tracing along the edge of her knickers. He slid the soaked cloth down her legs while Rose wiggled and helped him along, kicking the garment free from her body as his hand delved into her damp curls. She gasped into his mouth as he traced his fingers gently along the sensitive skin before plunging in, circling her clit and teasing her entrance.
John groaned as he slid a finger inside of her, Rose grasping onto his arm with a strangled cry. "Fuck, Rose," he whispered, the sound of his gorgeous voice curling around the expletive causing a wave of arousal to pulse through her as he added another finger and began to stroke.
"God," she choked out, fumbling with the condom packet still in her fingers and tearing it open as she kissed him sloppily. "Please, John, want you...please..."
With shaking hands, even as he ceased his ministrations, Rose grasped onto his erection and rolled the condom carefully down his length. He shuddered and kissed her deeply, moving on top of her and settling between her legs once more.
He never broke their gaze as he slid easily inside of her.
Rose gasped, her eyes closing involuntarily. This was nothing like she'd ever experienced during sex before. There was no awkward positioning, no uncomfortable friction that made her cringe. It was like he was made for her, the first stroke alone sending shockwaves through her system.
"Rose," he whispered, the reverence in his voice nearly bringing tears to her eyes as he began to move against her. She gasped and locked her legs around his waist, and they both groaned as he slid in impossibly deeper. "You feel so good..."
Rose felt the pressure building between them more quickly than she'd ever felt before. She'd been impossibly turned-on during their foreplay, and every one of his strokes was hitting just the right spot inside of her to make her see stars. She was no blushing virgin, nor did she consider herself promiscuous, but the few men she'd slept with hadn't even come close to making her feel the way John was. He was pushing inside of her, murmuring breathless, broken phrases into her ear when he wasn't kissing her deeply, and everything he did was like fire through her veins.
"Ah, Rose," he moaned, one hand moving to grip her hip and one cupping her cheek so he could meet her gaze. "Rose, I'm close...I need you to..."
"Touch me," she whispered, never breaking eye contact. She covered the hand at her hip with hers and brought it slowly between them, just above where they were joined, and he began to stroke, wrenching a long moan from Rose's throat. It felt like mere seconds before she shattered, panting and clenching around him, her hands gripping his hair as he pressed hard against her and, with a low moan, came apart above her.
John collapsed, panting, and Rose's fingers immediately released the death grip she had on his hair and began stroking through it lazily. He wasn't heavy, and she welcomed the feel of every inch of their skin pressed together as he fluttered kisses against her neck and she ran her fingers through the damp, silky strands. They didn't say anything, both were quiet as their breaths slowed to a normal pace.
John broke away from her reluctantly but softened the action with a sweet, lazy grin and Rose returned the expression. She was loathe to separate from him, but also realized he had to clean up before he softened completely inside of her. She rolled onto her side as he took care of the condom quickly and turned back to her, his eyes sparkling.
"Hello," he murmured, cupping her cheek and pulling her in for a deep kiss.
"Hello," she replied, still grinning, against his lips.
"Not a bad way to end the night..."
"Not bad at all. I think you may have found a new post-concert ritual."
"A brilliant one at that." He smiled brilliantly at her before letting out a huge yawn. "And far more efficient. Blimey, I'm exhausted."
"Me, too," Rose whispered, covering his hand with hers. "Will you stay?"
John's smile widened and was bright enough to light up the room. "Oh, yes," he said, leaning in for another kiss.
He got up to flick at the light switch, casting the room into darkness as Rose wriggled her way underneath the blankets. He joined her quickly and curled around her, both of them still blissfully naked, him pressing soft kisses to the back of her neck and her shoulders, warmth suffusing her as her eyes slipped shut.
"Good night, John," she murmured, feeling safer and more content than she'd ever felt in her entire existence.
He tightened his grip on her and she was able to make out, just as she was drifting off, his whisper-soft reply.
"Good night, Rose Tyler."