Title: Temptation
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Peter Carlisle
Fandom: Doctor Who/Blackpool
Rating: PG-13
Table: 5
Prompt: 85, Las Vegas
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 strolled down one of the streets near where he'd left the Tardis, looking around him with interest. It had been a while since he'd visited Las Vegas, and though he had no money to take into one of the casinos with him, he still enjoyed seeing the types of people who came there. Human nature -- its acquisitiveness, in particular -- never failed to amuse him.

All around him were couples, people with children, people who seemed particularly happy to be in what was commonly known as a "den of vice." The Doctor snorted under his breath at that sort of description -- any place could have that sort of reputation, no matter what went on there, if one used one's imagination enough.

But he had to admit, Las Vegas was certainly a place for people to practice what these humans and their churches and religious groups might call "sin." The gambling, the prostitutes, and every other form of "entertainment" they could think of .... The Doctor sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking down at the pavement. He wasn't really interested in any of it. In fact, he couldn't think of one good reason for him to be here.

Other than the fact that he was alone -- and lonely. He obviously wouldn't find the remedy for that loneliness here, but at least there were a lot of people around ....

All these people, and no one special person who he could trust to stay with him. He'd long ago given up on that; finding a human who would be willing to give up the life they had for the life he could offer them wasn't something he contemplated any more. He'd nearly learned to resign himself to being alone -- nearly being the operative word.

The Doctor slowed his pace, his feet dragging, no longer looking at the people around him or peering into the shop windows. Would any place he went ever be able to hold his interest for longer than a few moments, when he was seeing it alone? It seemed that he was doomed to live inside his self-imposed loneliness for the rest of his days.

Would he ever find someone who wanted to be with him on a permanent basis, who didn't have a life that they would eventually return to? He didn't want to contemplate a future where he would always be alone -- but that seemed to be his natural state of affairs. Perhaps he should just try to get used to it ....

The Time Lord's head jerked up with a gasp as a figure barreled into him from one of the doorways he was walking past, falling heavily against him. He reeled backwards, recoiling from the man who'd inadvertently almost knocked him off his feet. The other man reached out a hand to steady him, though he seemed none too steady on his feet himself.

"Sorry .... didn't mean to do that," he mumbled, his words a bit slurred. He gave the Time Lord a lopsided smile, and a mocking half-bow.

Ah, thought the Doctor, drunk. I shouldn't be surprised to see something like that here in Vegas.

"No harm done," he said, forcing a smile and nodding at the man. His eyes widened as he took in the face, the features that were so similar to his own. It was .... astonishing was the only word he could think of. He'd often heard the human saying that everyone had a double of themselves somewhere in the world, but he'd never believed it. Until now.

"Just going to .... errrr, get food," the man said, waving a hand towards the half-opened door of a restaurant. "Care to join me?"

The Doctor felt hesitant; this man was obviously not in the right frame of mind to have any sort of intelligent conversation, and he didn't fancy spending his day trying to make heads or tails of the ramblings of a drunk person. On the other hand, he could always make sure that the other man sobered up, and perhaps he would be interesting to talk with.

"All right," he agreed, heading for the opened door and entering the restaurant, hoping that he'd be followed inside. Apparently he was; the waitress approached and asked if they were a party of two, accepting the Doctor's nod and leading them to a small, private table near the back of the place.

The Doctor studied the other man as he sat down opposite the Time Lord, hoping that he didn't see as though he was staring -- though, indeed, he was. Their physical similarities were remarkable; but there were definite differences. Hairstyle, for one, and his companion's lack of sideburns. Hmmmm. Which looked better? He couldn't honestly say.

He found himself feeling a little jealous that the other man apparently wore glasses as a necessity, as he rather liked the way he looked with his own (largely unneeded) glasses in place. And his hair also apparently didn't have the tendency to behave on its own -- no, it sat down neatly, rather than jumping all over the place.

But those were easily overlooked differences, and his newfound friend seemingly hadn't noticed their incredible resemblance to each other. He held out a hand across the table with a friendly smile; the Doctor couldn't help but take it and smile back.

"I'm Peter Carlisle," his dinner companion said, his voice already sounding a little less slurred. "And you are ....?" He inclined his head, raising his brows, obviously waiting for an answer from the man sitting across from him.

"I'm the Doctor," he answered, hoping that the words would suffice. Usually, people asked him for his "real" name -- something that he couldn't remember ever giving out. Supposedly, he'd done so in his future, but he had a hard time believing that. He certainly wasn't about to blurt it out now, to someone he didn't even know.

"The Doctor?" Peter's brows rose again, a smile quirking his lips. "No name? Doctor what? Or should I say, Doctor who?"

"Just the Doctor. I prefer to be called that -- names are such an inconvenience, don't you agree?" He kept his tone light, hoping that Peter wouldn't press him for any more of a detailed explanation. He really didn't want to go into who -- or rather, what -- he was, as he probably wouldn't be believed anyway.

Though, of course, Peter was rather drunk. So there was the distinct possibility that he would believe whatever the Doctor chose to tell him. Of course, once all of his faculties were working properly again, he would merely think that the man he'd spoken to was an absolute nutter, and shake his head in disbelief at all he'd been told.

"Well, there are definite plus sides to not disclosing names," Peter agreed, leaning back and contemplating the Doctor. "Is it just my imagination, or do you look remarkably like me? That's a strange coincidence, to meet my doppelganger here in Vegas."

"I'd noticed that myself." The Doctor steepled his hands under his chin, regarding Peter with a smile. "It's incredible, isn't it? I was a bit shocked at first. It's a bit of a blow to my ego to see that there's another person so handsome in the universe."

What in the world was he doing? Was he .... flirting with this man? Stop it, his inner voice scolded. He's drunk. Even if you did manage to get him to bed you, he wouldn't remember it in the morning, and that's nearly the same thing as rape. Isn't it?

"Hmmmm. You're the only person who's said that to me lately," Peter murmured, signaling the waitress. When she came over, he began to order a drink -- but was stopped by the Doctor's hand on his. The Time Lord shook his head at the waitress, politely asking her to bring them a pot of coffee instead, and waiting until she was gone to turn his attention back to Peter.

"I don't fancy having a conversation with a drunken man," he said firmly, holding up a hand to forestall any protests from his companion. "Now then. First things first. Why on earth are you wandering around Vegas in such a drunken state? You don't seem as though you're the down and out type -- so you couldn't have gambled away your life savings."

Peter shook his head, a sound that was almost a snort coming from his throat. "No, not bloody likely. I'm not that stupid. No, I was .... abandoned. I suppose that I came here for a bit of -- closure. Not that I've been fortunate enough to find it, so I'm nearly at the point where I've given up looking."

It was the Doctor's turn to raise an eyebrow, wondering exactly what Peter was getting at. "Oh? And what exactly would you be looking for some sort of closure for?"

Peter shrugged, looking up at the waitress came back with their coffee and two cups. He grimaced as he poured a cup, then leaned back, taking a swallow before speaking. "To make a very long story short, I've been unceremoniously dumped. She went back to her former husband because I apparently 'work too much' -- and they're both here. I was ...." He sighed, looking down at the table top. "I suppose I was hoping for a glimpse of her. Pathetic, really."

Her? The Doctor could feel his hearts sinking down to the level of his shoes. Oh well, it had probably been too much to hope that Peter fancied men, he told himself sourly. Perhaps he should have let the other man stay drunk. It would have increased his chances.

"I'm sorry," he said, impulsively reaching out a hand to rest it on top of Peter's. The other man looked up at him, eyes widening, but not pulling his hand away.

The Doctor's own eyes widened; had that been his imagination? No, indeed not. Most definitely not. There had been some sort of .... spark when their hands had touched. Something that had seemed to jump from him to Peter -- and was even now circling in the air around them, some sort of contained electricity.

Peter was looking down at their hands, as though there was something fascinating about the touch. Slowly, he put down his coffee cup, turning his hand over and curling long, tapering fingers around the Doctor's. He kept staring at their entwined hands, apparently musing about something, before he finally looked up and met the Time Lord's gaze.

"Perhaps it's time for me to .... try something new," he murmured, the words a bit hesitant. "I've never thought about it seriously before -- but I'm certainly no stranger to desire. And I get the definite feeling that you aren't, either."

"No, I'm not," the Doctor said softly, his mouth going dry, a thrill of anticipation running through his body. Was Peter suggesting what he seemed to be ....?

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he whispered, his eyes not leaving Peter's intense gaze. "I could be completely wrong -- but I don't think I am. And before you ask -- yes, I fancy men. I would have thought that was obvious from the moment we bumped into each other. I was rather hoping you leaned in the same direction."

Peter shrugged again, the movement accompanied with a wry smile. "I'll be honest, I've never tried it before -- but I won't say that I haven't been tempted. And you are definitely the biggest temptation I've ever encountered." He leaned towards the Doctor, his eyes fixed on the other man's mouth.

The Doctor leaned forward at the same time, close enough so that his lips were almost touching Peter's. "Then be tempted," he breathed, not caring if anyone might happen to be staring at them. This was a chance he wasn't going to let go by.

"Thank you, I believe I will." Peter stood up, reaching into his wallet to pay for their coffee, then taking the Time Lord's hand and literally almost pulling him towards the door. "Let's get back to my hotel room so we can have a bit of privacy. I don't fancy everyone getting a free show out here in the open."

His hearts were pounding in his chest; his tongue felt fuzzy in his dry mouth, his perception of the situation turned upside down. He'd thought that he would be the pursuer in this case, the seducer -- but no, he was finding himself swept up in Peter's determination to have him. And he liked it. Far more than he probably should.

"Lead the way," the Doctor murmured, following Peter out onto the pavement. The other man curled an arm around his waist, guiding the two of them across the busy street, into the lobby of one of the garishly neon-signed hotels, past the people milling around the lobby and right into an elevator that happened to open at the right moment.

The second the elevator doors closed, Peter turned to the Doctor, pulling the Time Lord's thin body against his own, his hands moving down the Doctor's back to cup his ass. "Let's do this properly," he whispered, his mouth covering the Doctor's in an insistent kiss.

The Doctor could do nothing but let himself sag against Peter, feeling as though he was melting into the other man's arms. He felt weak, dizzy with desire, almost painfully aroused. By the time Peter pulled his mouth away, he was panting slightly, his gaze unfocused. He couldn't remember ever wanting anyone so badly -- not in all of his lives.

"Only a few more minutes," Peter breathed into his ear as the elevator door opened. The two of them stepped out into the hallway, going down the hall to stop in front of one of the myriad doors. Peter fumbled in his pocket for the keycard, finally finding it and slipping it into the door; when it opened, he literally pulled the Doctor into the room, slamming the door behind them with a resounding bang.

Within a few seconds, the door opened again -- and a hand reached out to hang a very large "Do Not Disturb" sign from the doorknob.

***

Next story in series - Pleasure and Pain.