Title: Pleasure and Pain
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Peter Carlisle
Fandom: Doctor Who/Blackpool
Rating: NC-17
Table: 5
Prompt: 99, Lust
Author's Note: Continuation of Temptation.
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.

***

When the door closed for the second time, Peter turned towards the Doctor, a purposeful look in his eyes. They stood there looking at each other for several long moments, gazes locked, their chests rising and falling in rhythm. Neither man wanted to be the first to break the spell and turn towards the other.

Then, with a soft intake of breath, Peter took a step forward. Less than a second later, the Doctor was in his arms, their mouths locked together, their hands in each other's hair, bodies straining to meet through the barriers of their clothes.

Peter pushed the Doctor backwards, towards the bed; the Time Lord's eyes widened when the backs of his legs hit the mattress, a slight shove from Peter sending him sprawling onto his back across the large bed. Peter's hands were at the buttons of his trousers in a moment, working at the zipper, pulling the Doctor's pants to his ankles before he could take a breath.

The Doctor's voice seemed frozen in his throat; he couldn't manage to make words come out. Peter's hands were pulling off his jacket, loosening his tie and pulling it off, unbuttoning his shirt -- then moving over his chest, fingertips brushing his hardening nipples. The Doctor closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of those hands on his body, breathing Peter's name.

Then the searching, caressing hands were gone; his eyes opened, disappointment coursing through him. Peter was kicking off his shoes, nearly tearing off his trousers in his hurry to get undressed, ripping at the front of his shirt until the buttons popped loose; one button hit the wall with a sharp ping that neither man heard.

He kicked off his own shoes, his trousers quickly following them to the floor; sitting up, he pulled off his socks, then lifted his hips so he could slide his boxers over his thighs and down his legs. The Doctor glanced up at Peter's face, stopping when he saw the other man staring at him -- attention focused on his crotch.

"Is something wrong?" the Doctor asked, his voice husky. He cleared his throat, hoping that his voice wasn't betraying the sudden anxiety he felt. If Peter was backing out of this now .... He felt absurdly disappointed, as though the other man had already turned way.

But Peter shook his head, swallowing visibly, his hands seeming to tremble as they tugged his shirt the rest of the way off. "N-no ...." His words came out slowly, as if he wasn't quite sure of what he wanted to say. "It's just .... a lot larger than I expected, that's all."

"Don't worry." The Doctor smiled encouragingly, holding out a hand to the man who would, in a matter of moments, become his lover. "It's not going to be inside you, after all. I was hoping that you would do the honours in that department."

Peter looked surprised -- and then relieved. "Ah, now that, I don't have a problem with at all," he replied, sounding more sure of himself as he spoke. "I .... really don't think I'm ready for the other," he explained, sounding a little embarrassed, his cheeks pinkening and his gaze averted from the Time Lord.

The Doctor leaned back against the pillows, stretching out on the bed with a contented little sigh. "That's rather a good thing, considering that I'm not overly comfortable with being the more dominant partner," he said softly, holding out a hand to Peter.

He couldn't take his own eyes from Peter's body; the other man was amazingly attractive when he was fully clothed, but naked, he was stunning. Peter climbed onto the bed, leaning over him, and the Doctor couldn't keep himself from placing both hands on either side of Peter's face, stroking soft fingertips over his skin.

Peter's hands moved under the Doctor's body, cupping and lifting his ass, fumbling a little in his haste. The Doctor didn't expect him to be proficient -- after all, he had said that he'd never been with a man before -- but it seemed to him that Peter at least had some idea of what he was doing.

Those hands were on his ass cheeks, Peter's thumbs moving down the cleft, spreading him and rubbing back and forth over his entrance. The Doctor closed his eyes; a soft moan of pleasure coming from his throat. Peter might be a novice at touching a man, but he had no complaints.

He could hear Peter gasp, hear the ragged breathing of the man above him, hear his own breath rasping in his throat. Or was that sound the manic pounding of his hearts against the wall of his chest? He couldn't be sure; all he knew was that he wanted to melt into those hands, wanted Peter to keep stroking him until he was relaxed and opened.

Peter's hands moved down his thighs, gently pushing his legs apart, fingertips trailing over his inner thighs. The Doctor spread his legs wider, wanting to give Peter full access to his body, closing his eyes and stretching his arms over his head. He hadn't felt this good in a long, long time; it had been far too long since he'd let anyone touch him like this.

The Doctor's eyes flew open when Peter pushed his legs up; he could feel the other man's cock pressing against him with a suddenness that startled him. He'd expected the soft caresses to go on for a while, but Peter was apparently ready to take what they were doing to the next level of intimacy.

The one problem that the Doctor could see was that there was no lube in evidence. He could feel panic rising in the back of his throat; he'd been taken dry before, and it was an experience he didn't care to repeat. He didn't fancy being sore for the next few days, and possibly not being in any shape to let Peter make love to him again after the first time.

"Peter, no, wai --" The word ended on a sharp scream, the Doctor's slender body convulsing, tightening when Peter thrust inside him. The sound was torn from his throat, his hands clutching the other man's shoulders, nails digging deep into his skin.

He screamed again when Peter thrust inside him a second time, feeling as though his body was being torn apart. He wanted to beg Peter to stop, to pull out, find some lube, anything to ease the burning pain -- but he couldn't catch his breath enough to form words. All he could do was gulp air, filling his lungs to be able to scream a third time.

But Peter didn't thrust forward again; his hands were on the Doctor's shoulders, his breath rasping in his throat as he tilted the Time Lord's face up to his, looking perplexed. "Doctor ....?" he queried, his voice harsh, thick with desire. "What's wrong? Are you all right? Did I hurt you? I thought ...."

He eased himself out of the Time Lord, his arms encircling the Doctor's waist and pulling him close. The Doctor was crying, tears streaking down his cheeks faster than he could wipe them away; he buried his face against Peter's chest, taking a breath and then choking on a sob. He needed to speak, needed to tell Peter what was wrong.

"Shhhh .... it's all right ...." Peter was soothing him, brushing his hair back from his forehead, those soft, warm lips against his skin. The deep, throbbing pain between his legs was easing now, withdrawing to hide in the shadows until it could take him unawares again.

After what seemed like a very long time, but was in actuality only a few moments, the Doctor raised his head, dark eyes regarding Peter with reproach in their depths. "Lube," he whispered, swallowing hard before he spoke again. "You forgot that. I should have told you."

"I'm so sorry," Peter whispered, his lips brushing over the Doctor's cheeks, kissing away the salty tears. "I didn't mean to hurt you -- please believe me." He rolled over onto his side, cupping the Doctor's face between his hands and kissing him again. "Do you still .... want to ...." His voice was wavering, shaky, unsure.

The Doctor nodded, raising a hand to lay it against Peter's cheek. He was still trembling, though not as badly as he had been a few minutes before; and, to his surprise, the pain he'd just endured hadn't thoroughly killed his desire for Peter. His hearts were still racing, his cock half-hard, his stomach muscles tightening in anticipation.

Peter reached over to the small table by the side of the bed, pulling open a drawer and fumbling inside it. He drew out a tube that the Doctor instantly recognized as lube, blushing a bit when his eyes met the Doctor's again. "I .... errr ...." The Time Lord shook his head, not expecting Peter to tell him just why he kept lube handy.

"You don't have to tell me why you have it," he said softly, looping his arms around the other man's neck. "It's enough that you do."

"I'm sorry," Peter said again, looking contrite. "I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to hurt you. You have to know that."

"I do," the Doctor whispered, pulling Peter down to him. His eyes closed as their lips met, his body arching up against Peter's; both men groaned when their erections rubbed against each other, their bodies a tangle of hands, legs, tongues. The Doctor grasped Peter's shoulders, his voice a hoarse whisper when he spoke.

"I need you." They were the only words he could manage to get out; the pain of a few moments before was forgotten in the wave of desire that crashed into his senses.

Peter didn't answer; he only nodded, his eyes never leaving the Doctor's as he popped open the tube of lubricant with one hand, liberally coating the first two fingers of his other hand with the thick, slippery substance. Then his hand was between the Doctor's legs again, his fingers spreading the Time Lord's cheeks, stroking over his entrance.

The Doctor arched his back as one finger, then another, pressed inside him, probing and searching. Pleasure began to spread through his body, erasing the pain he'd felt earlier; he moaned Peter's name, hands tightening on the other man's shoulders. Peter's fingers were gentle, stretching and opening him, seeming to know instinctively what would feel good.

He almost whimpered when those fingers slid out of him, leaving him feeling strangely empty. But the thought of what would inevitably come next kept him quiet; he opened his eyes to gaze at Peter, dimly registering the fact that the other man was grasping his own penis, stroking himself in preparation.

His legs were pushed up to his chest, Peter's fingers stroking over his hole again seconds before the blunt tip of his lover's cock pressed against him. Then Peter was pushing inside him, slowly, filling him bit by bit. He could feel every inch of the other man's cock sliding into him, every breath that Peter took, even every rapid beat of his heart.

Each thrust was slow and deep, Peter's eyes never leaving his face, as though the other man wanted to make sure he was pleasuring the Doctor as much as possible. Pleasure wasn't the word for this, the Doctor thought, his breath catching in his throat when Peter thrust deep inside him again. There was no expression for something that felt this amazing.

The Doctor's long legs were wrapped around Peter's waist, his body arching up against his lover with each thrust, his nails scoring trails down Peter's back. His thighs were starting to tremble; he could feel himself being pushed closer and closer to orgasm, though he was trying to hold himself back and make this last as long as it possibly could.

Judging from the look on Peter's face, he was close, too. The Doctor raised a hand to trail soft fingertips down Peter's cheek; the other man looked transported, almost paralyzed with pleasure. His arms were wrapped around the Time Lord's waist, tightening each time his hips thrust forward.

He couldn't hold out much longer; his orgasm was already uncoiling in his stomach, like a wave preparing to break. The Doctor's fingers dug into Peter's shoulders again, hard enough to leave the purple shadows of bruises the next day. He felt as though he was dangling over the edge of a precipice, waiting breathlessly to be pushed off.

A burst of pleasure spread though his body like a gradual explosion, one shower of sparks setting off another until he was tingling all over, his limbs left heavy and languorous in the aftermath, his body completely sated in a way that he couldn't ever remember feeling.

The Doctor could feel Peter's own release, a soft cry and a rush of warmth, the other man collapsing on top of him in a boneless heap. He stroked Peter's hair, moving his hands down his lover's back, admiring the thin, toned body stretched on top of his own.

When Peter finally spoke, his voice sounded cracked and disused; he had to clear his throat and start over before the words would come out. "That was ...." He coughed, swallowing and taking a deep breath. "That was incredible. If I had ever known that sex with a man could be like that ...." The words trailed off, his eyes closing again.

"I have the feeling that I might have converted you," the Doctor teased him, stroking a hand through the thick dark hair again. "I take it that isn't necessarily a bad thing?"

"No, not at all." Peter raised his head, smiling and leaning forward to press his mouth against the Doctor's parted lips. "I can't help but wonder just what took me so long."

"Perhaps you just hadn't met the right man yet," the Time Lord suggested, a smile tugged at the corners of his own lips. "That sounds terribly clichéd, but it's true, you know. You have to meet the person who's capable of leading you into a new world before you can allow yourself to experience it."

"I think I've met the right one now," Peter said softly, trailing his fingers down the Doctor's chest. The Time Lord moaned softly as one fingertip stroked over a sensitive nipple, then gasped as Peter leaned forward to circle it with the tip of his tongue.

"You're going to light another fire if you keep doing that," he warned his lover, his voice sounding a little ragged. "I'm not sure if either of us are up for another go tonight, but if you want to ...."

Peter shook his head, turning onto his side and pulling the Doctor into his arms. "I don't think so -- we both need to get a good night's sleep. But --" His lips brushed the Doctor's ear, the words whispered on a breath. "-- you may wake up to a surprise in the morning. That happens to be my favourite time of day for a shag."

"Oh, really?" The Doctor laughed, snuggling into Peter's embrace, resting his cheek against the other man's chest and closing his eyes. "I'll look forward to that. Good night, Peter." The last words came out on a yawn.

"Good night .... Doctor." Peter's voice was soft, as soft as the brush of his lips against the Time Lord's cheek. "Sleep well."

Within a few moments, the Doctor was breathing deeply, asleep in Peter's arms. Peter, however, lay there for a long time, his eyes open, searching the blackness of the room before coming to rest time and time again on the sleeping face of the man beside him. It was early morning before he, too, finally succumbed to sleep.

***

Next story in series - Eye Candy.