Title: Through the Years
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Peter Carlisle
Fandom: Doctor Who/Blackpool
Rating: PG-13
Table: 5
Prompt: 7, Years
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.***
Peter leaned against the door frame of one of the corridors that led out of the control room of the Tardis, watching the Doctor as the Time Lord studied the console. The other man had a look of intense concentration on his face as he focused on the lights and switches.
How many years had he been doing this? thought Peter as he watched his lover. And how many other people had stood here, in the same place he was standing, watching the Time Lord and admiring him just as he was doing?
Well, there couldn't have been that many since the other man had been in the body he had now, Peter told himself, feeling relieved at the thought.
It might be silly, but he hated to think of the Doctor with anyone else. That was an utterly ridiculous attitide, of course; the Doctor had been in nine other bodies before the one he was in now, and he hadn't saved himself all those centuries for one man.
He himself had certainly been in love before. Peter winced at the thought, pushing it away as soon as it entered his mind. That hadn't been love. That had been nothing but infatuation, and one that had only gotten him badly burnt.
The Doctor had been a complete surprise to him; he'd expected to be able to track down the woman he'd thought he was in love with when they'd met, not start on a completely different kind of relationship than he'd ever been in before.
If anyone had told him even a few hours before he'd met the Doctor that he would make love to a man -- and fall irrevocably in love with that man -- he would have thought they were utterly barmy and advised them to have their head examined by a good shrink.
But he had indeed fallen in love -- and he wouldn't change anything about their relationship. He had everything he'd ever wanted, embodied in one man.
How long would that last? he asked himself, his brow furrowing. Would this be just another one of those ephemeral relationships that he seemed to be so good at -- lasting a few months, maybe even a few years, before it faded away into nothingness?
His throat tightened at the thought; he could feel tears rising, threatening to choke him. No, his relationship with the Doctor was nothing like that, a small inner voice said. He was more in love with this man than he'd ever been with anyone.
If one of them decided that the relationship wasn't working, it wouldn't be him. He couldn't begin to imagine leaving this man behind him, being able to walk away from him and never hold him again. The mere thought made him feel panicky.
Peter had to swallow back unshed tears at the thought of going through his life without the Doctor -- all of the years he would spend regretting, going back over their time together and wishing that it could have all been so different.
That wasn't going to happen, he told himself fiercely, shaking his head. He would never leave the Time Lord. Not unless his lover asked him to go.
Moving into the control room, Peter went to the other man, wrapping his arms around the Doctor's slim waist and pulling him close. He couldn't imagine not being able to do this again, to ever reach a time in his life when he couldn't touch the Doctor.
The Time Lord leaned back against him, turning his head and nuzzling his cheek against Peter's. The other man's arms tightened around him; Peter swallowed again, a lump forming in throat and preventing him from speaking.
How could he ever even think about giving this up? The Doctor was the only person he could see himself spending all the years of his life with, the perfect mate. Well, he wasn't perfect -- but as far as Peter was concerned, they were perfect for each other.
"Peter, what is it?" the Doctor asked, raising one hand and placing it on Peter's cheek. He closed his eyes, feeling the soft caress of those long, elegant fingers on his skin. The Doctor's touch -- yet another thing that he couldn't bear to give up.
"What do you mean, love?" he prevaricated, trying to collect his thoughts before he had to answer the other man.
"You're tense," the Doctor replied, his voice soft, sounding worried. "And you're .... unsettled. I can sense it when you're holding me. It's as if you're holding on to something you're afraid you might not be able to keep and that makes you hold on even harder."
Peter gulped, wondering how the Time Lord could manage to pinpoint his feelings so succinctly. That had been exactly what he was doing; he was so terrified of losing his lover that he wanted to hold on to him as tightly as he possibly could.
He bowed his head, knowing that he really couldn't hide his feelings from the Doctor. He might try to, but he'd always end up confessing them. He found it impossible to hide anything from his lover -- and really, he didn't want to.
"I was just thinking .... what would you do if I wasn't here?" His voice sounded choked even to his own ears; it was so hard to get those words out. He didn't want the the Doctor to think that he wanted to leave, but he had to know.
He could feel the Time Lord stiffen in his arms, hear the slight intake of breath. Peter held the Doctor closer against him, wishing that he'd kept his mouth shut.
"I have no intention of leaving, Doctor," he whispered, wanting to assure the other man that he wasn't going anywhere. "I just .... I know I have a finite time to be with you. And I've .... never been very good at relationships."
"I've never been good at them, either," the TIme Lord said softly, his voice sounding shaky and uncertain. "But I'd thought I was getting better since I've met you. I've learned that I want the kind of relationship that's built on solid ground and is going to last."
"So do I," Peter murmured into his ear, tightening his arms around the Time Lord's waist. "I want to be with you forever, Doctor. I want us to look back years from now on how we met and have a chuckle at it -- and know that we were always meant to be."
He could feel the Doctor relaxing in his arms as he spoke; he was saying the words that the Time Lord needed to hear. And, he realized, he'd needed to say those words aloud to himself; he needed them as much as the Doctor did.
"Years from now .... when we've been together for a very long time," the Doctor whispered. "When we've spent so much of our lives together that we can't imagine ourselves any other way."
"When I'm old and grey, and you're still young and beautiful," Peter said softly, thinking with regret of the inevitability of again for a human. He hated the thought that he would get old, and that the Doctor might not want to be with him then.
The Doctor turned in his arms until he was facing Peter, taking the other man's face between his hands and gazing into his eyes. "And I'll still love you, through the years, no matter what may come to us," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat.
"You know I'll always love you," Peter told him, hoping that the Doctor could hear the sincerity in his voice. "No matter how long or how short a time we're together, Doctor -- you always have me, for that time and for all eternity."
The Time Lord nodded, resting his head on Peter's shoulder and closing his eyes. Peter wrapped his arms around the Doctor's waist, pulling his lover as close to him as he possibly could.
Of course the Doctor couldn't spend the rest of his life with Peter. He knew that; he'd known it ever since he'd found out what the TIme Lord was. But Peter could spend the rest of his life with the Doctor -- and he would gladly do that.
No matter how much time he had with this man -- be it days, weeks, months, years, decades -- he would take what he could get, and be grateful for it. He couldn't ask for anything more than what life had given him -- and what he had was more than he'd ever hoped for.
So maybe they wouldn't have eternity to spend together. That didn't matter, he told himself, holding the Time Lord close. They would take what time they could get, and make the most of those years, living as though every day might be their last.***
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