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Swinging in Space (1/1)
Title: Swinging in Space
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Amy/Rory
Word count: ~1k
Other: Originally written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo for the square “suspension” but I forgot to post it in time for amnesty. Vague spoilers for Series 5 of Doctor Who, up to and including the finale. Also includes elements of public sex and vague humiliation. Un-beta'd.
After they're done running down hallways and saving the day—well, not done, they're never done are they, just taking a breath then—the Doctor remembers that it was their wedding day. That this is their honeymoon, really, and they haven't had a proper wedding night. Well, all right, Amy may have been the one to remind him. And her elbow to his side may have helped things.
So they're somewhere Amy can't pronounce just yet. She'll work on it, later. Right now the Doctor is out investigating some strange reading, which is sure to mean more running down hallways in a bit. He's left them alone in the TARDIS, though, which is enough for the moment.
“Amy, are you sure—there's bedrooms, y'know,” Rory says, nervous as he often is. Which is funny, being nervous about this when he's been killed, for Godssakes. It's so adorable, she just as to kiss him. Oh, better do it again, just for good measure. Then she pats his cheek and settles back.
“'Course I know that, y' daft idiot. Wouldn't be as much fun in a bedroom, though.”
“Be a lot safer. And a great deal less public,” Rory says, though his voice is getting weaker so he must know he's fighting a losing battle. She does let him win sometimes, really. Not this time though. This is, for all intents and purposes, her wedding night. And she's going to have it her way, damnit.
“Point. Not a good enough one, though. Now, move.”
And with a sigh, Rory does. He leans back, his bare feet pressing onto the floor, then bending back, sailing up and out from under him to start the swing moving. Amy smiles, snaking one hand between them to wriggle Rory loose from the pants he insisted be kept on as long as possible. It takes a bit of manoeuvring, and she is afraid for a moment that she might fall, but Rory's got a hand on her back so it's fine. She gets him loose, grinning madly as she holds the pants up to his face. He looks like he's about to plead with her again, but the look that crosses his face says he's just now realised she's not wearing anything under her dress and he shuts right up again. There's that sorted, then Amy thinks with a smile as she leans back, her hands wrapped 'round the swing's chains and her legs 'round Rory's waist.
It's not like floating through space, of course. For one thing, the TARDIS is stationary. And for another, they're in a swing. A rather low swing, come to that. If Amy's learned anything in the last year, though, it's that it really is the thought that counts. So when she leans back, pressing her heels into the small of Rory's back as her head drops back, it doesn't feel like she's on a swing. Hanging upside down, blood rushing to her head and her hair falling all over her face while Rory very-shakily and erratically swings back and forth, Amy Pond (Williams? Pond-Williams? She can't remember what they settled on, now. The Doctor's been calling them 'Ponds', much to Rory's annoyance and her amusement) feels like she's flying.
When she's close, so close she would swear the TARDIS is flying from all the wonderful vibrations in her thighs and the way her stomach's flipping, Amy sits up to look Rory in the eye. Well, she would if her hair wasn't all in her face now. Rory pushes it away and, even though Amy knows he's still pretty uncomfortable with what they're doing, he's laughing a little as he moves in to kiss her. The feel of his laugh against her lips has the TARDIS beat any day. And when he pulls away, there's a look in his eyes, kind of a sparkling thing, and she wonders if he's feeling what she is. Like the world is moving incredibly fast around them, but in their little corner it's all slowed down and even though they're falling, they're safe. Or something like that.
He can't keep her upright after that, though, mostly because he's goes boneless. So they're both leaning back, her legs around his waist all that keeps them in the swing. When the spasms fall down to tiny aftershocks and she can remember that she has hands, Amy bends one so, with just a bit of shifting in the swing, she can lace her fingers together with Rory's. As they touch, she swears she feels something tingle between them, around them. He squeezes, lightly, then lets out a much more exhausted laugh.
“Okay, you were right, that was nothing like being in a bedroom.”
“'Course I was right, I'm always right.” Amy beams, squeezing his hand before she sits up and slides off the swing. She kisses Rory as he sits up, pulling him up when she realises his legs have gone more jelly than hers.
They're just starting upstairs, planning to race off to their rooms for a nap and another go, when the TARDIS' door slams open. Rory lets out one yelp for the cold air, and another as the Doctor saunters inside. She's embarrassed, of course, but Amy can't help smiling as Rory ducks behind her...and the Doctor just walks on by without sparing a glance down at them.
“All sorted then, Doctor?” she calls up, casually.
He glances down with the cocky grin he always wears after he's fixed everything. “'Course, nothing a bit of sonicking couldn't—ah, Amy?”
“Yes, Doctor?” she says, sweetly, when his eyes go wide.
“Why are you downstairs and why is Rory naked, the more important question being why is Rory naked?”
“It's my honeymoon,” she says. Then she reaches back, taking Rory by the hand. “Now, if you don't mind, it's not quite done yet. C'mon, Rory.”
She's dragging Rory off and is nearly out of earshot when the Doctor finally speaks again after several moments spent staring down at the swing. “Y'know, plenty of planets have vines and low gravity and things. You didn't have to use my swing!”
He's laughing, though, as he saunters downstairs, running a hand along one of the chains (one part he hopes got off fairly unscathed). “Did you show them a good time, old girl?” he says, quietly. The TARDIS hums, and the Doctor smiles.
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Amy/Rory
Word count: ~1k
Other: Originally written for
kink_bingo for the square “suspension” but I forgot to post it in time for amnesty. Vague spoilers for Series 5 of Doctor Who, up to and including the finale. Also includes elements of public sex and vague humiliation. Un-beta'd.After they're done running down hallways and saving the day—well, not done, they're never done are they, just taking a breath then—the Doctor remembers that it was their wedding day. That this is their honeymoon, really, and they haven't had a proper wedding night. Well, all right, Amy may have been the one to remind him. And her elbow to his side may have helped things.
So they're somewhere Amy can't pronounce just yet. She'll work on it, later. Right now the Doctor is out investigating some strange reading, which is sure to mean more running down hallways in a bit. He's left them alone in the TARDIS, though, which is enough for the moment.
“Amy, are you sure—there's bedrooms, y'know,” Rory says, nervous as he often is. Which is funny, being nervous about this when he's been killed, for Godssakes. It's so adorable, she just as to kiss him. Oh, better do it again, just for good measure. Then she pats his cheek and settles back.
“'Course I know that, y' daft idiot. Wouldn't be as much fun in a bedroom, though.”
“Be a lot safer. And a great deal less public,” Rory says, though his voice is getting weaker so he must know he's fighting a losing battle. She does let him win sometimes, really. Not this time though. This is, for all intents and purposes, her wedding night. And she's going to have it her way, damnit.
“Point. Not a good enough one, though. Now, move.”
And with a sigh, Rory does. He leans back, his bare feet pressing onto the floor, then bending back, sailing up and out from under him to start the swing moving. Amy smiles, snaking one hand between them to wriggle Rory loose from the pants he insisted be kept on as long as possible. It takes a bit of manoeuvring, and she is afraid for a moment that she might fall, but Rory's got a hand on her back so it's fine. She gets him loose, grinning madly as she holds the pants up to his face. He looks like he's about to plead with her again, but the look that crosses his face says he's just now realised she's not wearing anything under her dress and he shuts right up again. There's that sorted, then Amy thinks with a smile as she leans back, her hands wrapped 'round the swing's chains and her legs 'round Rory's waist.
It's not like floating through space, of course. For one thing, the TARDIS is stationary. And for another, they're in a swing. A rather low swing, come to that. If Amy's learned anything in the last year, though, it's that it really is the thought that counts. So when she leans back, pressing her heels into the small of Rory's back as her head drops back, it doesn't feel like she's on a swing. Hanging upside down, blood rushing to her head and her hair falling all over her face while Rory very-shakily and erratically swings back and forth, Amy Pond (Williams? Pond-Williams? She can't remember what they settled on, now. The Doctor's been calling them 'Ponds', much to Rory's annoyance and her amusement) feels like she's flying.
When she's close, so close she would swear the TARDIS is flying from all the wonderful vibrations in her thighs and the way her stomach's flipping, Amy sits up to look Rory in the eye. Well, she would if her hair wasn't all in her face now. Rory pushes it away and, even though Amy knows he's still pretty uncomfortable with what they're doing, he's laughing a little as he moves in to kiss her. The feel of his laugh against her lips has the TARDIS beat any day. And when he pulls away, there's a look in his eyes, kind of a sparkling thing, and she wonders if he's feeling what she is. Like the world is moving incredibly fast around them, but in their little corner it's all slowed down and even though they're falling, they're safe. Or something like that.
He can't keep her upright after that, though, mostly because he's goes boneless. So they're both leaning back, her legs around his waist all that keeps them in the swing. When the spasms fall down to tiny aftershocks and she can remember that she has hands, Amy bends one so, with just a bit of shifting in the swing, she can lace her fingers together with Rory's. As they touch, she swears she feels something tingle between them, around them. He squeezes, lightly, then lets out a much more exhausted laugh.
“Okay, you were right, that was nothing like being in a bedroom.”
“'Course I was right, I'm always right.” Amy beams, squeezing his hand before she sits up and slides off the swing. She kisses Rory as he sits up, pulling him up when she realises his legs have gone more jelly than hers.
They're just starting upstairs, planning to race off to their rooms for a nap and another go, when the TARDIS' door slams open. Rory lets out one yelp for the cold air, and another as the Doctor saunters inside. She's embarrassed, of course, but Amy can't help smiling as Rory ducks behind her...and the Doctor just walks on by without sparing a glance down at them.
“All sorted then, Doctor?” she calls up, casually.
He glances down with the cocky grin he always wears after he's fixed everything. “'Course, nothing a bit of sonicking couldn't—ah, Amy?”
“Yes, Doctor?” she says, sweetly, when his eyes go wide.
“Why are you downstairs and why is Rory naked, the more important question being why is Rory naked?”
“It's my honeymoon,” she says. Then she reaches back, taking Rory by the hand. “Now, if you don't mind, it's not quite done yet. C'mon, Rory.”
She's dragging Rory off and is nearly out of earshot when the Doctor finally speaks again after several moments spent staring down at the swing. “Y'know, plenty of planets have vines and low gravity and things. You didn't have to use my swing!”
He's laughing, though, as he saunters downstairs, running a hand along one of the chains (one part he hopes got off fairly unscathed). “Did you show them a good time, old girl?” he says, quietly. The TARDIS hums, and the Doctor smiles.