Title: Too Much Too Soon
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Michael Cutter
Fandom: Doctor Who/Law & Order
Rating: NC-17
Table: 100_tales
Prompt: 89, Desire
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 hadn't expected Michael to kiss him almost as soon as they'd entered the apartment, but he wasn't going to complain. It had been so long since anyone had kissed him, or even touched him, that he was more than ready to give himself over to whatever this man wanted.

All he'd been able to focus on when they were sitting in the restaurant was Michael's mouth -- speaking, smiling, sipping from his wineglass. He'd wondered how that mouth would feel on his, how those lips would taste when Michael finally kissed him.

Well, now he knew. And the reality was much, much better than the fantasy.

Michael lifted his head for a moment, his eyes meeting the Doctor's, an appraising look in their depths. One hand moved up the Doctor's back, long fingers tangling in the Time Lord's hair and pulling his head back slightly, those eyes studying his face.

"I want you," he finally whispered, both hands moving back down to cup the Doctor's ass and pull the other man closer against his body. "I've wanted you since the first moment I saw you."

"I want you, too," the Doctor gasped, his eyes widening when Michael's hands squeezed his bottom. He let himself lean against the other man, his thin arms sliding around Michael's neck, closing his eyes and trying to relax while he wondered just what this man would do next.

"The bedroom is that way," Michael whispered into his ear, his breath hot against the Doctor's skin. He moved away from the Time Lord, taking his hand and leading him down a short, carpeted hallway, nearly pulling the Doctor along behind him.

The Time Lord couldn't help smiling; Michael was certainly eager, much more so than most men he'd been with. And at least Michael wasn't pushing him down on the floor and trying to undress him right there in the front room, which he was grateful for. Sex was always more comfortable in a bed.

He didn't have time to look around him at the bedroom; Michael was leading him across the room to the large bed, not giving him time to stop and get his bearings. He supposed that was understandable -- after all, they both knew what he was here for.

He couldn't have been more surprised when Michael turned to him and pushed him down onto the bed, looking down at him with a smile quirking the corners of his lips.

"Don't move," Michael whispered, starting to pull off his coat. "I want to undress you myself. I've been wanting to take your clothes off ever since I saw you on the sidewalk this afternoon. Undressing you is a treat I've been saving up for myself all day."

The Doctor nodded, leaning back on his elbows and watching Michael as the other man loosened his tie and began to unbutton his shirt. "Don't I get to have the pleasure of undressing you?" he asked, raising one eyebrow in question. "That's only fair, after all."

Michael shot him a quick smile as he finished with the last few buttons, pulling his shirt off and starting to work at the button and zipper on his trousers. "Maybe some other time," he murmured, letting his pants fall to the ground and stepping out of them.

The Doctor couldn't take his eyes from Michael's body; he knew that it was rude of him to stare, but he couldn't help it. Clothed, Michael was an attractive man. Naked, he was magnificent.

He closed his eyes as Michael approached the bed, letting out a soft moan when he felt the other man's hands on him. Michael was sliding his coat over his shoulders, loosening his tie, fumbling with the buttons on his jacket, then his shirt.

Had his clothes ever come off so easily before? He didn't think so. Even the buttons on his trousers seemed to magically disappear; Michael was sliding his pants down his thighs within minutes, leaving him lying naked on the bed on his back, those intense dark eyes roaming over his body.

Michael was turning him over, those hands moving down his back, exploring him, discovering his flesh. A shiver of anticipation ran through his body; he hadn't thought he would be on his stomach, but that was all right. Michael was more than likely going to turn him over within a few minutes ....

The Doctor gasped when Michael spread his thighs, those warm fingers pressing between his cheeks, stroking over his entrance once, then again. He hadn't expected that, not yet. He squirmed slightly, opening his mouth to protest, then shutting it again.

It would be ridiculous to tell Michael to stop now. He could simply wait until Michael turned him over, then tell the other man that he'd prefer it if things went just a little more slowly.

The bed dipped a little as Michael leaned to the side, reaching for something in the small table beside the bed. The Doctor could only assume that he was looking for the lube, and he let his muscles relax. Michael wasn't going to ignore something like that, obviously. He was just a bit eager.

Another gasp came from his throat when one finger slid inside him, followed a few seconds later by a second one. The Doctor clamped his lips together on a whimper, not wanting to make Michael think that he was hurt. It didn't hurt, not really; it was just .... unexpected, that was all.

He moaned into the pillows as those fingers probed inside him, rocking his hips back against Michael's hand. It had been far too long since he'd allowed himself this luxury; he'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be penetrated.

But this wasn't what he'd wanted his time with Michael to be like; not like this, not with him on his stomach and Michael taking him from behind. He should say something now, before it went any further. He opened his mouth again, but he didn't get the chance to speak.

"I want you so much," Michael breathed into his ear, his fingers sliding out of the Doctor's body. The Time Lord could feel the other man shifting on the bed behind him, then the large, blunt tip of Michael's cock was pressing against his entrance. "Oh god, I want you."

He wanted Michael, too. He did. But not like this, not being taken from behind. He struggled to sit up, to turn over, to tell Michael that he'd prefer another position.

He didn't get the chance. A cry was torn from his throat when Michael slid into him, pressing him down against the pillows again, those strong hands moving up his arms and twining their fingers together. The breath was torn from his lungs for a few moments, leaving him gasping for air.

The Doctor buried his face in the pillow, clamping his teeth down on his lower lip to keep himself from crying out. It wasn't that Michael was hurting him; he knew that if he told the other man to stop, he would. And it wasn't as though he didn't want this.

But this wasn't what he'd wanted it to be. It was .... impersonal, somehow, lying facedown on Michael's bed, not being able to see the man who was taking him. It would be satisfying physically, in a way, but he needed more than just the physical gratification.

His aching cock rubbed against the sheets with each thrust of Michael's hips, every movement bringing a gasp from his throat. It wasn't that this didn't feel good, because it did. Too good for him to want to tell the other man to stop. It just hadn't happened the way that he'd wanted it to.

He squeezed his eyes closed, clutching the sheets, biting down on yet another moan. Michael was close; he was sure of that. Even if he didn't get much out of this, at least his lover would be satisfied.

As if to prove him right, Michael thrust inside him once more, the movement accompanied by a cry and a violent spasm of his body. He could feel the other man's release, feel Michael pulling out of him, those strong hands moving down his body and turning him over onto his back.

Michael's lips trailed fire across his nipples, down his chest, over his belly, finally stopping between his legs. The Doctor cried out when that soft, warm mouth enveloped his cock, sucking gently at first, then harder, Michael's hands gripping his thighs, stroking over his sensitive skin.

This wasn't bad. It wasn't unwanted. And Michael was certainly good at what he was doing -- better than most men he'd been with. It just felt .... incomplete.

It only took a few moments for him to reach a quick, sharp climax, his body shaking in the throes of orgasm and then going limp. Dimly, he could feel Michael moving to lie beside him, then the other man's arms wrapped around him again, Michael's lips against his hair.

"That didn't do much for you." Michael's tone was flat; the words were a statement, not a question.

The Doctor didn't want to answer, but he knew that he had to. How was he going to describe how he felt when he wasn't entirely sure of it? He had no idea of how to put those feelings into words, no idea of how to reassure Michael that he wasn't angry, just .... conflicted.

"I think the first time with a new lover is always a bit strained," he finally answered, his voice soft and hesitant. "We may have rushed into things too quickly. Too much, too soon."

Michael pulled him closer, brushing his lips across the Doctor's forehead. "I'm sorry," he said, sounding contrite. "You're right, I rushed this. I wanted you so badly I couldn't hold myself back. It'll be better next time, I promise." He was silent for long moments before he spoke again, the words barely above a whisper this time. "If you'll let us have a next time, that is."

"Of course I will," the Doctor whispered, closing his eyes as relief washed through him. Michael wasn't going to simply use him for a night and not expect to see him again. There would be more to this than one less-than-satisfying night of blind desire.

"I want to make it up to you," Michael told him, reaching down to pull the covers up over their naked bodies before he settled back against the pillows. "I swear I will. I'll spend all weekend making it up to you, if you'll let me."

"I'll look forward to it," the Doctor replied, his eyes already closing. He couldn't remember ever being so weary, not even after a bout with the Master. His last thought before he drifted off to sleep was that it felt good to relax in someone's arms, instead of alone in his bed on the Tardis.

"So will I," Michael said softly, his arms tightening around the Doctor as his own eyelids drooped and he finally succumbed to sleep just moments after the Time Lord.

***