Title: The Flame Still Burns
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Peter Carlisle
Fandom: Doctor Who/Blackpool
Rating: R
Table: 5
Prompt: 74, Candlelight
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Peter Carlisle. Please do not sue.

***

Peter looked across the table at the Doctor, a smile curving his lips. He'd been planning this for a while, but he hadn't thought that the evening would turn out this well. Everything seemed to be going along smoothly, at least so far.

He hadn't told the Doctor exactly what he was planning; he'd been too sure that the Time Lord would protest and say that they didn't need a romantic evening out. But Peter had wanted this, if only to celebrate the time they'd been together.

And his lover certainly looked handsome, Peter thought with a smile. Somehow, the Doctor could manage to make a tux look better than it could look on any other man. Though Peter was sure that was more to do with the man in the tux than the suit itself.

He had to admit, he much preferred the Time Lord to be naked under him .... but that wasn't a thought he should be having in a crowded restaurant.

Swirling the wine in his glass, Peter glanced around, looking at the other people in the restaurant. They seemed to be the only couple there composed of two men; everyone else was the traditional male and female couple, which really didn't surprise him.

Surprisingly, he didn't feel out of place, not at all. Maybe in another lifetime he would have -- but he was a different person since he'd met the Doctor. He hadn't expected to fall in love the way he had, but he had no complaints on tht score.

What would people who'd known him in his other life say if they could see him now? He didn't know, and he didn't really care. They all seemed so far away now, as though they were part of a film he'd seen and barely remembered instead of people from his own past.

Really, he wanted to keep it that way. He had a new life with the Doctor, a life he cherished and didn't intend to let slip away.

He lifted his glass and swallowed the rest of the wine, then reached across the table to the Doctor and took the Time Lord's hand in his own. When their eyes met, he couldn't look away; it was as though he was mesmerized by those fathomless dark eyes.

"What are you thinking right now?" he whispered, his fingers tightening around the slender hand in his own. "You look as though something's on your mind."

The Doctor shook his head, a smile curving his lips. All Peter could think of when he saw that smile was how much he wanted to lean across the table and kiss the other man; he didn't care what the other people around them might happen to think.

Would he ever have cared? He thought that might have, when he was younger; but ever since that night in Las Vegas when he'd first met the Time Lord, he'd become a different person. One that he liked much more than he liked his former self.

"I'm thinking .... that it's very human to want to celebrate us being together a certain amount of time," the Doctor said softly, his gaze holding Peter's across the table. "But I'm also thinking that I like the idea."

"I know it must seem a little odd to you, given that time is something you don't really have to think about," Peter said, his voice almost apologetic. "But we've been together for three months now, Doctor. At least, that's about right, I think. It seemed to be a landmark."

The Time Lord grinned, raising his wineglass in a toast. "Three months. And will I be treated to another lovely evening out when we've been a couple for six months?"

"Of course you will," Peter told him, wanting more than ever to lean across the table and kiss the other man. There was something about candlelight that brought out the romantic in him, and he didn't think he'd ever seen the Doctor look more lovely.

Well .... when they were in a public place, at least. The Doctor was always at his most beautiful when he was naked under Peter, those passion-swollen lips parted and ready for him to kiss, those long legs wrapped around his waist, that tight heat enveloping him ....

Peter reluctantly tore his thoughts away from the direction they were heading in. This was a nice, respectable restaurant -- he didn't think it would do much for his reputation if he took his boyfriend to the mens' room for a quick shag.

Instead, he studied the Doctor's face across the table, propping his chin on his hand and smiling. He'd love to paint that face, he thought, exactly the way his lover looked at this moment.

The candlelight flickered on his skin, accenting the planes and angles of his features, making his long lashes look like fans against his pale cheeks when he lowered his eyes. It softened his face, made him look almost ethereal, an idealized image in Peter's mind.

Only this man wasn't in his mind. He was here, he was real. And he belonged to Peter.

Just that thought made his heart swell with joy. This man had chosen to be with him. Out of all the people, all the times, all the places he had to choose from to find a companion, the Doctor had chosen him, Peter Carlisle.

He was the luckiest man on Earth. No, not on Earth. In the universe. In any time period that had ever existed. He'd thought that his life was over when he'd been in Vegas, and he was making a last-ditch effort to resurrect it before he let himself sink into a miasma.

He'd been so wrong about that. His life hadn't been over. It had been about to begin. His life hadn't really started until the first moment he'd seen the Doctor, and he'd felt something within him reach out to the other man when their eyes had met.

"What are you thinking?" the Doctor asked him, tilting his head to one side as he spoke. There was a quizzical look on his features, as though he couldn't quite figure out just what might be going through Peter's mind.

"I was thinking that when I met you in Vegas, I thought everything was at an end for me," he said softly, gazing across the table at the man he loved. "Instead, I found out that it was all just beginning. And I have you to thank for that."

"You don't have to thank me for anything," the Doctor murmured, looking down. Was it Peter's imagination, or was he .... blushing? "I should be the one thanking you."

"For what?" Peter was genuinely curious about that. From what he could tell, he hadn't done anything extraordinary since he and the Doctor had been together. He'd just been there, letting the Doctor show him all these things in the world that he'd never known existed.

"For everything." The Time Lord's fingers twined through his own, the other man leaning closer to the table as he spoke. "For being my companion. For loving me. For letting me know that I'm not alone, that I have someone to love me."

"None of that's been hard to do," Peter said softly, giving the long, slender fingers in his own a gentle squeeze. "In fact, it's all come very naturally. I guess that's what being in love does to a person. It makes everything seem effortless."

"It's been effortless for me, too," the Doctor whispered, standing up at the same time that Peter did and leaning towards him. "Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."

Their lips met in a long, slow kiss, one that made the other patrons in the restaurant turn around and look at them. And several of the people in the place could have sworn that the candle on their table flamed higher and more brightly when the two of them touched.

***