Title: It's A Sin
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/John Smith
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: 4
Prompt: 37, Sinful
Author's Note: Slight spoilers for Human Nature and The Family Blood. This is an alternate version of events in those episodes. Continuation of Complicated.
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 John Smith. Please do not sue.


The Doctor woke with a start when he heard his alarm clock ringing; he'd set it for a bit earlier than he would normally awaken, to be sure that John got into his own room without anyone noticing that he hadn't spent the night there. John was still curled into his arms, and he looked down at the other man with a smile as he sat up slowly, yawning and rubbing his eyes with one small fist. He looked absolutely adorable in the morning.

He leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss against John's cheek; he wanted to do more, but he wasn't certain of just how John would feel on the "morning after." There seemed to be no ill effects, at any rate. He was getting up, picking up his clothes and shrugging into them, much to the Doctor's disappointment.

Of course John had to get into his clothes, he told himself. He did too -- after all, it was the start of another day, a day that looked much brighter than the last few had been. Now, he was certain how John felt about him. Last night had changed everything between the two of them, and changed it for the better, in the Doctor's eyes.

He wanted to lay here in bed, watching John moving about the room and picking up his discarded clothes, letting his eyes roam over that slender body. John didn't seem to be having any problems moving; that was a good sign. So he wouldn't be noticeably sore, which was one thing the Doctor had been worried about.

John hadn't spoken a word, only gotten out of bed and started to get dressed. The Doctor threw back the covers, standing up stark naked and going to John, slipping one arm around his waist and halting what he was doing. Was John angry at him? Had he done something wrong? If he had, he had to know. He had to set things right between them.

"John .... What's wrong?" he whispered, unaware that his face had gone pale, a strained look passing over his features. John shook his head, smiling slightly and raising a hand to the Doctor's cheek. The Time Lord closed his eyes when he felt that soft touch, wishing they could forget about the rest of the world and just go back to bed.

"Nothing .... don't worry," the young teacher said softly, his voice only sounding a little choked. "I have a lot to think about today, Doctor. Last night --" He swallowed hard before he could continue speaking. ".... Last night changed my life in every conceivable way. You've given me quite a lot to contemplate."

The Doctor nodded, studying John's face and feeling his throat constrict. What if John decided that he'd made a mistake, that they weren't meant to be together, even after what had happened between them? He was terrified of losing this man, he realized with a shock. More so than he'd ever been with any other lover.

John leaned forward to brush a light kiss against his cheek, then made his way to the door, slipping into his own room and closing the door behind him. The Doctor could only stand there, feeling bereft without his lover by his side and wishing that John could have stayed with him for just a few moments longer.

But they both had things to do, he told himself, sighing and moving to the closet, pulling out his clothes and deciding to get an early start to the day. The more he had to do, the more quickly he cuold make the day go by -- and the sooner the night would get here. The night that he would hopefully be able to spend with John.

* * * * *

The Doctor made his way up the stairs back to his bedroom, glancing at the clock on the wall at the top of the stairs. It was just after 8 o'clock, the time of night that he would usually sit in his room and read, or contemplate his feelings for John. But tonight -- tonight he would be spending the evening with John. At least he hoped so.

John had been strangely quiet all day, not speaking to the Doctor when they'd passed each other in the hallway, merely nodding at him. The Time Lord couldn't stop the clutching of his hearts, or keep back the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

What had happened to make John act this way? They'd barely spoken during the day; he didn't know who else might have said something to John. But whatever had happened, it almost seemed as though the young teacher had turned against him, or didn't want to see him or be around him. He had to find out what was wrong, and do whatever he could to make things right.

He reached his room, not glancing at the door to the room next to his just in case someone was there to see him. He had the feeling that they were constantly being watched, peered at, spied on by jealous eyes. It was that woman who made him feel that way, the Doctor thought, frowning as he entered his room, locking the door behind him.

Looking to his right, he could see the small sliver of light under the door of John's room; he wondered if he should knock, or if John was busy. Maybe he should just try the door, see if it was open, and enter the room. After all, he and John were lovers now. That did give him at least a few proprietary rights.

But he didn't do either thing; instead, he crossed the room to his bed, sitting down on it and gazing at the light under the door. What if John was angry about something? What if last night had somehow hurt him, and he just hadn't shown it this morning? What if he didn't want to see the Doctor again, or even talk to him?

That was nonsense, the Time Lord told himself. John wasn't that sort of person; if he'd been hurting this morning, he'd have said something. He wasn't a dishonest man, and he wasn't the sort to hide something he felt. Not after what they'd shared the night before.

He laid back on the bed, closing his eyes as his head touched the pillow. He could still smell the essence of John's scent, he thought, turning over and burying his face in the soft linen. Yes, that was the scent of whatever cologne John wore, a musky aroma that the Doctor wanted to breathe in forever.

How long could he lie here and put off seeing John, talking to him about whatever was wrong? He sighed, sitting up reluctantly and looking towards that closed door again. It seemed to taunt him with its solidity, telling him that he was barred from John's life, that he was to be kept behind a closed door, locked out.

No. He wasn't going to accept that. If there was something wrong between them, if he'd done something to hurt John -- or if someone had talked to him and convinced him to stay away from the Doctor -- he would set things right. He had to. This had already gone too far for him to lose John. He wouldn't lose him. Not now.

Not ever. Not if he could keep it from happening.

Getting up, the Doctor headed for the door, steeling himself to find it locked. However, it wasn't, and he opened it and stepped through into the other room, squinting slightly at the contrast between the dark of his own room and the bright light on John's desk. The other man looked up, eyes widening, turning in his chair to face the Time Lord.

He didn't let himself back off, now that he was in the room. Closing the door, he turned to John, holding out a hand as he approached the other man. John was standing now, getting to his feet with an almost frightened expression on his face. Frightened? the Doctor thought, his worry increasing. Why would John look like that?

"John, I know something's happened," he began, trying to keep his voice calm, hating the fact that the pitch could rise and make him sound like a scared child when he least expected it to. "I don't know what's wrong, but I can feel that something is. I can see it in your eyes. Please, tell me what's happened, and let me try to fix whatever it is."

John looked away from him, shaking his head. He was standing behind his chair now, as though keeping it between himself and the Doctor offered him some kind of refuge. "It's all wrong, Doctor. All of it. I've been thinking about us all day .... and we're wrong to feel as we do about each other."

The Doctor blinked, feeling his hearts skip a few beats. John couldn't be saying this. Not his John. Not the man he'd made love to last night, who'd said that he loved him. He couldn't be hearing these words.

"Wrong?" His voice was rising, he thought, but he couldn't keep it from doing so. He was faced with the possibility -- no, the probability -- of losing John, of having this man walk out of his life because of some stupid societal convention that he'd been brought up to believe, something that he couldn't shake off. "Why is it wrong?"

"Everything I've been taught tells me that it is," John whispered, his voice shaking. "No, don't come any closer." He raised his hands in front of him, as though to ward the Doctor away from him. "I know you'll break me down if you touch me, Doctor. I can't let you do that. I can't commit the same sin I did last night."

"What?" The Doctor could scarcely believe his ears. What in the world was John babbling on about? "Listen to what you're saying, John. Last night, you told me you loved me. You told me that the way we felt about each other couldn't possibly be wrong. Your feelings can't change that quickly. I know you're not that fickle."

"My feelings for you haven't changed." John was still whispering, his voice shaking, sounding as if he was on the verge of tears. "I'll love you until the day I die. Nothing will change that, Doctor. You will always be the one and only love of my life. I accept that. But we can't be together again. It's a sin, one that I shouldn't have let myself commit."

"No!" The Doctor's voice was low, anguished, near tears himself. "Loving each other isn't a sin, John. Love is all that matters in this world -- in any world. We've done nothing wrong. I refuse to believe that I shouldn't love you."

Without realizing what he was doing, the Doctor grabbed the chair, pushing it aside and taking John into his arms. The young man tried to pull away at first, but only for a few seconds; within moments, he had buried his face against the Doctor's shoulder, finally letting tears come, tears that he'd obviously been holding back for a while.

"John, don't cry," the Doctor murmured, running a gentle hand through John's soft hair and trying to soothe him. "Please don't cry. And please don't believe that we've done something wrong. We haven't, John, I can assure you we haven't. Love -- real love -- is never wrong. I won't let you believe that. I cant."

"I don't want to lose you," John sobbed, wrapping thin arms around his waist. "I can't give you up. I know that I should, but I can't."

"I won't give you up either, sweetheart," the Doctor told him, moving them both over to the bed and sitting down, pulling John down beside him. "John -- we belong together. And I'll spend the rest of my life telling you that, over and over again, until I convince you that it's right for us to love the way we do."

"I've been told all my life that two men loving each other is wrong," John whispered, raising a hand to wipe the tears from his face. "But after this -- after loving you -- I can't believe that. I keep telling myself that I should listen to what I've been told, but I can't. I tried. I really did. But they're the ones who are wrong, not us."

"Yes, they are," the Doctor whispered, keeping one arm around John's waist, raising the other to his face to smooth back his hair. "We can't let anyone come between us, John, not now that we've found each other. Don't believe what anyone tells you. Loving is never wrong, either the physical or the emotional side of it."

John nodded, gulping a little and leaning back on the bed. He held out his arms to the Doctor, looking a little apprehensive when he spoke.

"Don't leave me," he whispered, closing his eyes as though he expected the Time Lord to do just that, to disappear and not be in the room when he opened his eyes again. "I need you with me. I need to know that last night wasn't just a dream, that it can go on."

The Doctor smiled, standing up and starting to remove his shirt. "I'll never leave you, John," he whispered, going to the desk to switch off the lamp before he finished removing his clothes. "You have me forever, for the rest of our lives." He could hear the sounds of fabric rustling as John's clothes were taken off, the sound making his hearts thump in his chest.

As the Doctor pulled back the covers and slid into bed next to John, he couldn't help wondering just how he was going to tell John about himself. If the other man thought that it was a sin to fall in love with another man -- how was he going to feel about falling in love with an alien?

That was something he would more than likely have a very hard time dealing with. But somehow, the Doctor was convinced that he would be able to convince John to come with him when he had to leave. And he wasn't leaving without this man. He'd already made up his mind about that. When he left this time, John Smith would be with him.

His companion. And his lover. He would take John away from here -- no matter what he might have to do to achieve that end.


Next story in series - Believer.