Title: Make It Up
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Michael Cutter
Fandom: Doctor Who/Law & Order
Rating: NC-17
Table: 100_tales
Prompt: 80, Forgiveness
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 Michael Cutter, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor woke to the pale grey light of morning outside the windows of Michael's apartment; he blinked, confused for a moment and not remembering where he was. Then the night before came back to him, along with a feeling of regret and resignation.

If only things had been different .... but they hadn't been. Of course, he didn't blame Michael. The fault rested with both of them, really. They'd been too eager, too blinded by what they thought they wanted to realize that they were jumping headlong into a situation where they should be taking their time.

He really should have known better than that, he admonished himself, holding back a sigh. Michael didn't know him, had no idea what he wanted, what he liked -- and he was the same with the other man. They shuold have taken more time to get to know each other.

But they hadn't, and this was what they were left with. He hoped that they might be able to rectify things, to make a fresh start in the clear light of day.

If they could, that would be wonderful. And if they couldn't .... then he would take his leave of Michael, politely, with no recriminations. But he'd more than likely never see the other man again, and that would be a pity. There was such an attraction there, on both sides, and he wanted to explore it.

That would depend on what Michael wanted too, of course. He certainly wasn't going to force the other man into something that he might not be interested in. But Michael had seemed genuinely contrite about what had happened between them, so he was fairly sure that the handsome DA felt as he did.

As if the Doctor's thoughts of him had woken the other man, he felt Michael stirring beside him; a strong arm draped itself across his stomach, and he could feel Michael shifting and propping himself up on an elbow behind him.

Michael's hand moved up his chest, palm flat against his skin. The Doctor closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being touched.

"I hope you're feeling better this morning," Michael whispered in his ear, his breath warm against the Time Lord's skin. "And I hope you'll let me make things up to you."

"I'm still here," the Doctor replied, his voice husky. "If I didn't want to give this a second go, then I wouldn't be -- so that says quite a lot, doesn't it?" He turned slightly, his gaze meeting the other man's. "It's just as much my fautl as yours, Michael. Please don't blame yourself."

"I'm a lot more to blame than you are." Michael's lips caressed the Doctor's shoulder, his arm tightening around the slender man's waist. "I should've gone slower with you. It wouldn't have hurt anything for me to take my time -- but I wanted you so much."

"And now you have me," the Doctor replied, turning into his back and facing Michael squarely. "So, what are you going to do with me?"

"Oh, I can think of several things," Michael told him with a smirk. "But I think I'll start by .... making up to you for last night. At least, I'll do my best."

"I can't think of anything I'd like more," the Time Lord whispered, raising his arms to loop them around Michael's shoulders. "You're not on trial here, Michael. Let's just .... enjoy ourselves and forget about last night. There's no reason for us to dwell on it."

"I definitely intend to enjoy myself," Michael murmured, leaning down to press his lips against the Doctor's throat, then his shoulder. "And I intend for you to enjoy yourself, too. In the best possible way."

"Then I can't have any objections to that," the Doctor sighed, closing his eyes and letting himself relax under the other man. This was what it should have been like last night, he told himself, pulling Michael down against his body, luxuriating in the feel of those strong arms enfolding him.

Michael's hands were moving over his body, down his sides, over his hips, sliding under him to cup his bottom and lift him slightly. And that soft, warm mouth was following the same path, down his chest, his belly, moving between his thighs and ..... oh.

His thin body arched up against that warmth, a moan torn from his throat. Michael was certainly good at this, the Doctor though dazedly, his senses swirling into a vortex of pleasure. He was sure that no other man had ever been able to make him feel this way.

He was barely aware of it when Michael reached to the table by the side of the bed, though he knew what the other man was searching for. The Doctor arched his back, moving into a more comfortable position and giving Michael better access to the lower half of his body.

Then those lean, strong fingers were on his thighs, lifting him again and sliding under him -- inside him. One finger, then another, in close succession.

His breath came faster, his fingers curling through the strands of Michael's hair. The other man was watching him intently, as though to be sure that he was doing what the Doctor wanted; their gazes locked, their eyes communicating without words.

In only a few moments, those searching fingers withdrew; he almost moaned again at the sudden feeling of emptiness, though he knew that it wouldn't last long. Only a few seconds ..... he held his breath, his eyes fluttering closed, waiting for what he knew was coming.

When Michael slid into him, he couldn't help but cry out, wrapping his long legs around his lover's waist as though to draw him in more fully. Had any other man ever seemed to be made to fit him in the way that Michael was? He didn't think so; their bodies were like two puzzle pieces sliding neatly into place.

It didn't seem possible that anyone could make him feel like this, the Doctor thought, moaning Michael's name with each thrust of those hips against his. This was the way it should have been the night before, the way he'd expected it to happen.

All too soon he could feel himself mounting a precipice, ready to throw himself off and tumble down into oblivion. The Doctor almost held his breath, trembling on the brink.

When his orgasm came, the sensation ran through him like an electrical current; he couldn't have pinpointed the moment that it happened if he tried. It seemed to crash down all around him, drowning him in waves of pleasure that made him shudder from head to toe.

Michael groaned into his ear, the sound mingling with his own cry. The Doctor clutched the other man, his nails digging into Michael's back; he didn't realize what he was doing until he felt his lover wince and shift his body to the side, pulling out of the Doctor and turning on his side to face the Time Lord.

"Am I forgiven for last night?" he asked softly, reaching out to stroke the Doctor's cheek with gentle fingertips. "I can't put into words how sorry I am about that. I was a jerk. I don't deserve to have you here with me now. I'm just glad you decided to give me another chance."

"I think I could find it in my hearts to forgive you," the Time Lord replied with a smile. It didn't dawn on him until a few seconds later that he had said "hearts" in the plural, but fortunately, Michael didn't seem to notice his little slip.

"That's good to hear," he murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss against the Doctor's lips. "And I hope you'll keep letting me make it up to you. That was just a beginning."

"I'll be here as long as you want me to be," the Doctor murmured, hoping that he wasn't promising too much with those words. Only time would tell if he'd be able to fulfill them; but time was something that he had a lot of. He wasn't in any hurry to rush off anywhere.

"I want you to be around for a long time to come," Michael told him, throwing the covers back and standing up by the side of the bed. The Doctor leaned back against the pillows, admiring the view. Michael was even more attractive by the light of day than he'd been last night.

Turning, he held out a hand to the Doctor, a smile spreading over his face. "Come on, beautiful. Let's shower and go get some breakfast. And then spend the weekend together, uninterrupted."

"That sounds like a marvelous idea to me," the Doctor told him, sitting up and moving to the side of the bed. It looked as though the problems of the night before were behind them, and he hoped that things would go well from this point on.

Of course, that remained to be seen. But, the Doctor told himself as he followed Michael out of the bedroom, he had the definite feeling that the two of them were going to have a very .... fulfilling relationship.

***