Title: No Regrets
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/John Smith
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: 3
Prompt: 31, Innocence
Author's Note: Slight spoilers for Human Nature and The Family Blood. This is an alternate version of events in those episodes. Continuation of Feel the Same Way.
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 made his way slowly towards the school, trying to look nonchalant. No one was throwing him odd looks, which was good. That meant that they probably hadn't seen John, or noticed how agitated the young teacher must have looked.

What would happen when the two of them met again? They would be in their rooms, behind locked doors, away from everyone else -- and anything could happen. The Doctor could feel his hearts quickening, thudding in his chest. He didn't think he'd ever been as nervous about his first encounter with a potential lover as he was now.

But John wasn't just going to be any lover, he told himself, quickening his pace. He was someone special, someone who was going to mean a great deal in his life. The Doctor couldn't say exactly how he knew that, but something told him that John was going to be a milestone in his long life.

What would they say to each other tonight, when they were alone together? He knew that John was attracted to him; he'd seen it in the other man's eyes, felt it in the way John had touched him. He'd tried to cover it up, but he hadn't been able to hide that spark of yearning in his eyes when he'd faced the Doctor.

It wasn't talking he was interested in, not really. He wanted physical contact; he was aching to touch John, to kiss him, remove his clothes and let his hands roam all over that body .... and let John do the same to him. Though there was one slight problem that was causing him a bit of worry.

John had obviously never done anything with another man before -- not with that fear he'd seemingly had instilled into him of how "wrong" it was. He would have to go slowly and carefully with the young man, be sure not to frighten him. He didn't want to force John into anything, no matter how much he wanted him.

Entering the building, the Doctor made his way past the few people who were about on the main floor, heading towards the stairs and going up to his room. He wasn't sure just what to do; he needed to give this some thought. He would have to give John a bit of time before he tried to talk with him, at any rate.

What was he going to do if John wasn't there, and didn't come to his room for the rest of the night? Would he still be able to make himself leave in the morning, just turn his back on John and what he thought they could together without another glance? He'd have to, more than likely. He couldn't force John to love him.

But he was absolutely sure that John at least had feelings for him -- even if those feelings went no further than an attraction. They hadn't had very long to develop a relationship, after all; he wouldn't be surprised if John didn't feel that they knew each other well enough for emotions to be involved.

No, he couldn't just leave without trying to talk to John again. If the other man were to push him away, refuse to talk about his feelings -- then, and only then, would he concede defeat and leave. Nothing less than that would make him give up, not when his emotions were so wrapped up with this man.

Just why did he feel so strongly about John? He couldn't quite put his finger on that one. It was rather a disturbing question, but it was one that he didn't want to answer. Better to think about that once he'd ascertained whether or not there would actually be anything between them.

He could be entertaining false hopes that would never come to fruition, the Doctor tried to tell himself as he walked slowly up the stairs to his room. If he was .... then it would be just another disappointment in a long line of them. It wasn't as if he hadn't grown used to dealing with that.

His heart quickened a little when he went to the door of his room; he could swear that he'd heard someone moving around in the room next to his. John was there, he knew it. It was evening, dusky though not dark yet. There was no light under the door -- maybe John was trying to hide the fact that he was in his room.

Well, in that case, he would wait a bit and see if John stayed there, or decided to go out. If he stayed put, then he would be able to go into the other man's room and talk to him. The Doctor wasn't sure just what he would say, but he knew that whatever words he used would come from his soul.

Just why was he so determined to win John? He frowned at the thought, opening the door to his room and then carefully locking it behind him. He didn't want anyone coming in and surprising him; he only hoped that John had done the same thing. If he ended up being in the other man's room tonight, it didn't concern anyone else.

Hopefully, that woman would leave John alone for the evening. The Doctor almost ground his teeth when he thought of her; she never seemed to be far from John. It was almost as if she knew how the Doctor felt about the young teacher, and she was determined to keep the Doctor away from him as much as she could.

But no matter what she did, she couldn't change the fact that their rooms were right next to each other, and that he had easy access to John. Better access than she did, anyway; a part of him almost wanted to flaunt that in her face. See what I have that you don't! Childish, yes, but she set his teeth on edge.

There was a maid who seemed to be there quite a lot too, but he hadn't really noticed her. He'd managed to avoid both of the women, thus far. He was sure that the maid hadn't noticed him, and if she had, she'd kept her distance -- or been kept away from him. Either way, it didn't bother him. Better not to make any friendly overtures.

Sitting down on his bed, he let out a sigh, glancing over at the door that led into John's room. There was a sliver of light under it; the sight made his hearts feel as though they were jumping up into his throat. John was there; and the presence of a light under his door meant that he would be there for the rest of the night.

Should he go into the other man's room now, or would it be better to wait for a while, let him get used to the idea of what the Doctor had told him this afternoon? Could he actually sit here while he knew that John was just on the other side of that door, wondering what the object of his desire was thinking and feeling?

No. He couldn't. The Doctor got to his feet, heading for the door but hesitating just as he reached it. He didn't want to sit here wondering and feeling nervous, but he didn't want to push John away from him, either. The other man would need some time, he was sure. Just how much time was the big question.

Sighing again, he went back to his bed, kicking off his shoes and sitting down cross-legged, contemplating the light under the door. It might look ridiculous to sit here and torture himself with indecision and uncertainty, but it would look even more so for him to go into John's room and send the other man into a panic.

He must have let his mind drift off without realizing it; his head jerked up when he heard movement on the other side of the door to John's room. The Doctor raised his head, squinting in the darkness of his room. Why hadn't he turned on a light? This was silly, sitting here in the dark.

His muscles tensed; he didn't know what he expected to see when that door was opened, but he certainly hadn't expected John clad in nothing but his pajamas, standing there framed in the doorway. The light from his room silhouetted him, making him look even thinner than he actually was.

The Doctor rose from the bed, going to the door without saying a word. He hadn't had to go to John and try to convince him that their feelings weren't wrong or immoral; by some stroke of fate, John had come to him. He didn't want to guess at what this could mean; he was going to let John speak first, tell him why he was here.

John didn't speak for a few moments; he opened his mouth as though to say something, then closed it again, his eyes locking with the Doctor's. The Time Lord wanted to say something, wanted to make John feel more at ease, but he was so tense with expectation that he didn't think he could force himself to speak one syllable.

When he finally did speak, his voice was shaky, and he couldn't meet the Doctor's eyes. "I .... I want to be with you," he finally whispered, looking down at the floor, his voice so soft that the Doctor almost had to strain to hear it, even in the quiet of his room. "I don't want to spend my life regretting what I've lost."

The Doctor moved to take John into his embrace, wrapping his arms around the other man and brushing his lips against John's cheek. "You won't have any regrets, John. I can promise you that," he murmured, stroking gentle fingertips along John's cheek and turning the other man's face to his.

It wasn't the first time he'd kissed John, but it was the first time the kiss had been returned. The gentle, exploratory first kiss in the park this afternoon might as well have never existed; the sheer joy of feeling John respond to being kissed erased that memory from existence. This was their first kiss, their first true meeting.

He didn't want to make John feel rushed or forced, but he couldn't keep himself from moving towards the bed, bringing John along with him. He could feel the other man's muscles tighten at first, as though he was going to resist, but John moved along with him until they were standing by the side of the bed.

The Doctor couldn't stop kissing John; if this was all the other man would let him do tonight, then that would be all right. As long as he knew that there was more to come, he would be satisfied with this for tonight. As long as he could hold John and kiss him all night, taste those lips under his own and know that John wanted him.

But John seemed to have other ideas; he pulled away slightly, sitting down on the bed and looking up at the Doctor. His voice was still tremulous when he spoke, shaking and a bit breathless. "I-I've never done this before, you know. You're going to have to show me what I should do."

The Doctor sat down beside him, taking both of John's hands in his own and bringing them to his lips. His eyes met the other man's, their faces illuminated by the silvery light of the moon shining into the window. "Don't be afraid, John. I want this to be marvelous for both of us. I won't do anything you don't want, I promise."

John nodded, laying back against the pillows. The Doctor could feel him trembling; he wished there was some way that he could reassure the other man that there was nothing to be frightened of. But all he could do was to reassure John by his actions that this was the right choice for him to have made.

He stood up, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, finally getting them undone and stripping it off, throwing it on the floor carelessly. The pants were slightly more troublesome; by the time he got them off, he could hear John's breathing growing more ragged, and he wondered if the other man would bolt from the bed at any moment.

Naked, he moved back to the bed, laying down next to John and propping his head on one hand, tracing the fingertips of his other hand down John's cheek. "There's nothing to be afraid of," he whispered, leaning forward to press his lips against John's mouth. "I won't hurt you, John. Please believe that."

John shook his head, swallowing hard before he spoke, his words surprising the Time Lord. "I'm not afraid," he whispered hoarsely, his dark eyes meeting the Doctor's again, this time maintaining the eye contact. "I just .... I never knew that a man could be so beautiful."

"As I'm sure you are," the Doctor told him, resting his hand lightly on John's chest. "May I undress you?" He didn't want to start loosening the buttons on John's pajamas without asking for permission first; it would be better to be cautious, to let John guide him and let him know how far he could go.

John gulped, then nodded, closing his eyes and turning his face to the side. The Doctor would have been amused if this was anyone else, but with John, it was less amusing and more touching. He'd never encountered such complete innocence before, and he was almost sorry to be the one to take that from this man.

Working at the buttons, he had John's pajama shirt undone quickly, pulling it off and leaning forward to kiss the other man's nipples. His body was beautiful, the Doctor told himself, trailing his fingertips down the soft skin of the young man's stomach, stopping just above the waistband of his pajamas.

John moaned softly when the Doctor's lips touched his flesh, his hands moving up to tangle his fingers through the Doctor's tawny hair. Taking that as encouragement, the Time Lord hooked his fingers under the waistband of John's pajama pants, pulling them down over his hips and down his thighs, then off, tossing them aside.

He couldn't take his eyes off John's slender body; the other man was beautiful, thin and pale and graceful. The moonlight shining directly into the window illuminated his pale skin, inviting the Doctor to touch, to kiss, to make this man his. Which was exactly what he intended to do.

He was surprised to see the silvered trails of tears streaking down John's cheeks; his first thought was that he'd done something inadvertently to hurt the other man in his eagerness to get John's clothes off. But he could sense that John wasn't hurt; no, he was just frightened, though the Doctor had hoped to be able to ease that fear.

"Shhhh, sweetheart, don't cry," he murmured, leaning down to kiss the tears away. He could taste the saltiness of those tears on his tongue, along with the sweet taste that seemed to linger on John's lips whenever the Doctor kissed him. It was a potent, heady combination, one that he couldn't get enough of.

Did he have lube? Was he certain that this wasn't going to hurt John needlessly? Yes, to both questions. He sat up slightly, swinging one leg over so that he was straddling John's body, then leaning forward to take that face between his hands, gazing into John's eyes before kissing him again.

"Just relax and enjoy this, John," he whispered against that soft mouth, his own breath ragged, the words catching in his throat. "I promise, I'll make this good for you." He hoped that his words were the truth, and that what he was going to do to John wouldn't drive the other man away from him by the time it was done.


Next story in series - Complicated.