Memories Writ on Skin
product of my tipsy brain so of course all mistakes are mine
Ten x Rose, teen
The first time it happened, they swore it was an accident, blamed it on the whiskey and the tequila and hypervodka and whatever the hell else they’d drunk the night before. They didn’t regret waking up together, naked bodies twined around each other with a familiarity born of long association (even if that association had been carefully platonic until that moment).
The only regret, shared by both and voiced by neither, was that they couldn’t remember the details. She could remember the feel of his tongue rasping across her nipple and hands sliding across her slick body. He could remember the way that slipping into her felt like home and that her face when she fell apart beneath him was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Other than that, it was just blurred glimpses of bare skin and fleeting memories of sensations.
They promised that it wouldn’t change anything. They were still Rose Tyler and the Doctor, best friends, just as it should be.