Title: Strip Me Down
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Peter Carlisle
Fandom: Doctor Who/Blackpool
Rating: R
Table: C, lover100
Prompt: 62, Strip
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.

***

The Doctor sighed, leaning back in his chair in the control room and yawning. It was past time that he probably should have made his way to the bedroom he shared with Peter, but he hadn't felt tired, so he had stayed here longer than he should have.

Standing up, he chided himself inwardly for doing so. Peter was human; he obviously needed more rest than he himself did, and it wasn't fair to keep him from getting that rest just because he didn't feel like going to bed at a particular time.

Of course, here in the Tardis, time worked differently than it did when they were on Earth -- or in any other place. But still, Peter was used to working during certain hours, and it would take a while for that kind of conditioning to wear off.

And he would always need more rest than the Doctor did, given that he had a human body. The Time Lord sighed, shaking his head.

That was one thing he'd never understand about the human body -- why had it been designed to be so .... well, so fragile? His own body was fragile in some ways, but having to get a great deal of rest certainly wasn't one of them.

Still, he wouldn't wish Peter to be any different -- he'd fallen in love with the other man just as he was, and if there were any changes, then he wouldn't be the same man. The Doctor accepted all of his faults and weaknesses -- just as Peter accepted his.

He turned towards the console once more, leaning over it and studying the readouts. No, nothing that he needed to keep an eye on. He could safely go to the bedroom -- and hopefully, spend a few hours there with Peter, if the other man wasn't too tired.

The Doctor gasped as a pair of strong arms slid around his waist from behind; Peter's voice murmured in his ear a moment later.

"Where have you been? I was starting to worry that you weren't coming to bed and that I'd have to fall asleep by myself. Or that you'd gotten tired of me and had decided to take yourself off to another bedroom. So I decided to come looking for you."

Was it his imagination, or did he detect a note of worry in Peter's voice? Was there a slight hesitation before he'd spoken those words? The Doctor turned in his arms, facing him and hastening to assure him that he'd meant nothing of the sort.

"Of course I'm not tired of you," he began, but was silenced by Peter's mouth on his. He let himself sink into the other man's embrace, giving himself up to that touch, that kiss -- and to Peter's hands lifting the hem of the t-shirt he was wearing and pulling it off.

He shouldn't have been surprised to find that Peter wasn't wearing a shirt; that wasn't unusual. He let his hands move up the other man's back, enjoying the feel of Peter's bare skin against his own.

"You're wearing far too many clothes, you know," Peter told him, nibbling at his earlobe, his breath soft and warm against the Doctor's skin. "Especially if you intend to come to the bedroom. I'm afraid I can't let you into bed with all this cover on you."

The Doctor held back a laugh, leaning against Peter and nuzzling his cheek against the other man's. He gasped in surprise when his lover's hands moved down, cupping his ass and squeezing gently as he pulled the Time Lord closer against him.

There was no doubt as to what Peter had in mind -- and the Doctor was more than willing to go along with that. But did his lover intend to strip him bare here in the control room? Though he'd made love on that floor several times, it was definitely less than comfortable.

But if that was what Peter wanted, then he'd go along with it -- though he certainly hadn't expected his boyfriend to be in this kind of mood.

Not that he minded, he told himself hastily, squirming slightly in Peter's arms. He gasped again when that movement pressed his crotch firmly against Peter's, the contact bringing a moan to the other man's lips, his arms tightening around the Doctor.

"Do you know how that makes me feel?" Peter whispered, his hands moving to the button and zipper of the jeans the Time Lord was wearing, working at them for a few moments before pushing them down his lover's slender hips.

The Doctor only nodded, letting the fabric fall into a pool around his ankles. He stepped out of the jeans, naked in his lover's embrace, his hearts starting to thud harder in his chest. What was Peter going to do next? The anticipation was almost making him dizzy.

Peter's hands moved up his back, stroking over his skin before the other man released him and stepped back, starting to unzip his own trousers, his eyes focused on the Doctor's face.

The Time Lord swallowed hard, his own gaze riveted on Peter. Was he going to be treated to a little striptease in the control room? He definitely wouldn't turn that down; he already wanted to reach out for the other man, and Peter hadn't begun to take any clothes off yet.

Slowly, Peter drew the zipper down, then began to push his jeans down his narrow hips; the Doctor already knew that he wasn't wearing anything under the denim. Peter wasn't a man who believed in the convention of underpants -- an attitude that he shared with his lover.

He swallowed again, a soft moan leaving his lips without his realizing it as the fabric fell to the floor and Peter stepped out of it to stand naked in front of him, not taking his eyes from the Doctor's face, almost as though he was challenging the other man.

The Doctor was frozen in place; he couldn't move, couldn't speak. All he could do was stand there staring at the man in front of him.

Peter simply stood there, tilting his head to one side and giving the Doctor an impish smile. "I take it you like what you see?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's all yours, you know. You just have to come into the bedroom to get it."

So saying, he took a few steps backwards -- not realizing that his jeans were still behind him on the floor. As he stepped back, one foot landed on the fabric; the denim skidded from under him, and with a startled gasp, Peter tumbled to the floor.

He didn't want to laugh. He shouldn't laugh, considering that Peter was probably going to have a few bruises on his ass. But the Doctor couldn't hold back a giggle; he had to press his hand over his mouth in a failed attempt to hide a grin.

Peter looked up at him, making a face as he held out his hand. "Well, are you going to help me up, now that I've made a fool of myself?"

The Doctor reached down and grasped his lover's hand, pulling Peter to his feet and wrapping an arm around his waist. "It's a good thing you've managed to strip us both down," he said softly, brushing his lips against Peter's cheek. "I'll be able to take care of those bruises on your arse."

"I had a very different plan for taking care of your arse," Peter said regretfully, wincing as the Doctor's hand moved to his bottom. "It might have to be modified a bit, though. Having to deal with bruises definitely didn't come into it!"

"Oh, I think we can still manage to work something out," the Doctor told him, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. "After all, you'll be the one on top, you know. And I'm sure that I can take care of any bruises you might have," he added, winking at his lover.

Peter's only answer was a soft laugh as he looped an arm around the Doctor's waist and led him out of the control room and down the hallway, leaving their clothes scattered about on the floor in mute testimony to where they would be spending the next few hours.

***