Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yasmin Khan never, in a million years, thought she'd be so lucky as she is today - or is it tomorrow? or last year? or next year?  - The whole time travelling malarkey is still something she's getting used to. 

Nevertheless, she'd take simply spending time with the Doctor over space and time without hesitation. 

Team TARDIS, as the Doctor insists on calling them, are currently on a planet she'd pointed out as Sorilia. It's more or less a planet of grass and forests and fresh, fresh air. It's day two of trekking through sentient undergrowth and whispering pines, on the search for the Ancient streams of Pirus. She only remembers the name because it's all the Doctor had talked about since their arrival. According to the blonde, the water is made of stardust. 

For now, though, Yaz, Ryan and Graham have settled down for the night in tents, which, of course, are bigger on the inside. They're more like small houses, in Yaz's opinion, with double beds and an en-suite in each, much to everyone's, but especially Graham's approval. 

After hours of exploring and laughing and chattering, Yaz is surprised when she finds she can't fall into her natural slumber. Together with Graham's snoring, which reverberates from the tent next to her own, and the constant series of howls, squeaks and hums from the creatures of the forest, she simply can't seem to switch off and relax.

Boots zipped on and another fatigued sigh later, Yaz slips from the toasty comfort of her sheets and steps out onto crumbled branches and moss. The ground crunches under foot, leaving broken twigs in her wake. 

She finds the woman responsible for turning her world upside down angled over the bonfire they'd slaved over earlier in the evening, idly adding chunks of wood to the flames. She notices her presence instantly, as always, red wisps dancing in her pupils when she turns to catch her gaze. There's concern there, too. 

"What're you doing still up? You should be asleep, Yaz. S'been a long day." The Time Lord chides, though her tone has never been berating - at least not to Yaz, anyway. She perches back down on a log beside the fire, slipping a book from the depths of her coat pockets. It makes Yasmin wonder what else she might have hidden away in there. 

"Couldn't sleep. You don't mind if I join you, do you?" Her accent is thick, and as always when they're conversing, it encourages the Doctor's own to grow broader.

"'Course not. Come, sit." 

So, the Doctor's counterpart takes her place at her side, the length of the faux-bench leaving just millimetres between them. The Doctor emanates warmth, meaning Yaz is very much not going to complain. If anything, it encourages her to close the space between them completely. 

"Shouldn't you be asleep, Doctor?" The Dark-haired woman quizzes, turning her head to let her gaze flit over her features in quiet appreciation. The blonde is too distracted by the stars in the sky to notice, though the sudden touch of colour to her cheeks suggests otherwise. 

"I don't need as much sleep as you. Maybe once a week, sometimes I can go longer." The tattered book in her hands is opened, pages discoloured with age and dog-eared from use. It's an astronomy book, as far as Yaz can see. 

"Can we see any of those from here? Y'reckon you could point 'em out for me?" Yaz murmurs from over her shoulder, whispered breaths moulding against the shell of her ear and causing a glorious shiver to roll down her spine. The Doctor clears her throat, then breaks into a grin - the one she uses just before she's about to show off, however this time it's softer. She's always softer around Yaz.

"Course. Y'see that gathering of stars, there?" She leans in, raising her hand to point out the stars in question. They're huddled together in the shape of the letter 'T'. "That's the Tegan constellation, named after their distinct formation." She turns her head, looking to Yaz as if for approval. The wistful smile she earns in return makes her hearts beat a touch faster, so she continues into the evening until she notices her best friend shiver. She's more than close enough to tell she's warm, but she's been wrong before. 

"Are you warm enough? Here, take this." She shifts to shrug her coat off so she can drape the garment over Yasmin's shoulders, deciding then and there that she likes seeing her in her clothes. There's something about it which makes her seem hers to keep, the unfamiliar reaction bringing more colour to unblemished cheeks. However, when she lifts her gaze to match her companions', she can see traces of the same look in her eyes. 

"Thank you." Yaz murmurs when the silence seems to spread on for too long to be meaningless, reaching up to hold the coat in place. It smells of smoke from the fire and earth and something else which must just be her. She can't help but take a moment to breathe the scent in, saving it to memory. When she meets her gaze again, the fire lingers in her eyes, though this time it's of a different kind. It's surprising how much they can say to each other without speaking at all.  

"Doctor." She breathes, because, to be quite honest, she doesn't know what else to say. She's so close and their breaths are mingling and if she keeps looking at her like that she's going to melt into a puddle and if only she could move an inch closer -

Surprisingly, it's the Doctor who makes the first move, closing the gap between them while her gaze roams over her features like many times before - when Yaz wasn't watching, of course - before settling on the soft curve of her lips. She glances up, once, to ensure she hasn't read her signals wrong, but Yaz's lashes are already fluttering shut. She takes her chance and lifts a hand to rest feather-light against her cheek, then, finally, she captures her lips in a soft, delicate kiss, as though she's made entirely of glass. 

The action comes as a faint surprise to Yaz, more so because she thought the Doctor would fall over and catch herself on fire before she even had a chance to capture her attention. The woman can't usually sit still for upwards of a minute at a time. However, when their lips finally meet for the first time, everything seems to fall into place. 

Yaz tastes like the s'mores they'd made earlier, deliciously sweet and perhaps a little addictive for her own good. It's a slow, gradual build in pressure, a battle for leadership and dominance when the kiss deepens. There's a soft thump when the Doctor's book falls from her lap, in favour of turning her body to better face her. Other than a soft laugh against her friend's lips, it doesn't manage to distract her. If anything, it encourages her to press closer, tongue swiping across her bottom lip in askance before they tangle together. She hums a hushed noise into her mouth, the new sensations in the pit of her stomach increasing her sensitivity ten fold. 

The younger of the two eventually manages to summon the courage to lift her hands to rest on the Doctor's waist, fingers curling in the smooth material while the blonde's are now busy threading through dark tresses, tongues and lips moving until they're both breathless and panting into each other. Reluctantly Yasmin pulls away, all flushed cheeks and plump lips as she takes in much needed air. 

"You - ... was that alrigh'?" The blonde swallows thickly, determined to keep her close when she shows no signs of moving away. She drops one hand to rest on her knee, where the rip in her jeans leaves the skin bare. 

"More than alright. I just - y'know, human breathing n'all. S'really annoying." Yaz hums, lips curling upwards into a grin only saved for her. She earns one in return, plus a laugh for her troubles.

"Did you know; breathing actually has very little to do with oxygen. It's mostly about carbon dioxi-" Yaz cuts her off with a kiss, her laughter moulding into a sigh when the Doctor responds in kind. 

They carry on like this for a length of time unbeknown to them before Yasmin breaks into a yawn, lashes fluttering as she gives the Doctor an apologetic, tired smile. 

"Y'should probably get some sleep."

"Come with me?" The prior-to-their-adventures-police-officer hums, reluctantly letting go of the Time Lord when she slips from her position in her lap to stand. 

"If - I mean - if that's what you'd like? Sure. Of course." She offers a hand, lifting Yaz from her perch on the log and leading the way back to her tent. 

"Sleeping in Yaz's bed. Amazin'." 

Chapter Text

Blinking through a sleep-induced haze, Yasmin Khan wakes up the next morning to warmth encircling her like a cocoon. It's unfamiliar, but the good kind of unfamiliar; the kind where you never, ever want to live without it again. 

There's a mess of blonde hair on the pillow beside her, and she takes a luxuriously long time putting the pieces back together in her memory, distracted somewhat by the endearing look on the Time Lord's peaceful features. Her lips are parted in the most adorable fashion (not that she'd ever tell her that - the Doctor is to be feared, of course. Very scary. Absolutely terrifying, in fact.) and her pulses are steady against her palm; she'd found herself entwining their fingers during her slumber. One part of her doesn't want to move, just so she can memorise every freckle, every blemish... but the other part of her really, really wants to taste her lips again. 

Luckily enough, she wins on both sides. For the next twenty minutes (although it feels like five minutes to her), the Doctor continues to sleep soundly, one arm draped casually over Yaz's waist and both feet entangled at the end of the bed. She still smells faintly of smoke from the night previous, but it's hardly unpleasant when its masked by her natural scent. After the twenty minute mark, she begins to rouse, nose scrunching and toes curling and uncurling against her own. She seems the slightest surprised when she blinks emerald eyes open to see Yaz settled snugly at her side. It takes her less than a second to break into a warm, fond smile, mirroring her counterpart's own. 

"Hi."

"Mornin'... is it mornin'? Probably. You smell nice." Her voice is husky with sleep, and Yaz decides hastily that she wants to wake up to this every morning for the rest of her life, if she can help it. The Doctor earns a bashful chuckle in response to her offhand compliment, and she reaches out to pull her a touch closer.

"Thanks, so do you. I mean, a bit smoky, but with all your experiments that's probably part of your natural... aroma, by now." Yaz teases, lifting her free hand to tuck blonde locks away from her eyes. "You don't - uh, you don't regret any of this, do you?"

"Regret it? 'Course not. You're Yasmin Khan. You're amazin'." The way she hums her name has Yaz like putty in her hands in an instant, the compliment drawing a flush to her cheeks and the very tips of her ears. 

The Doctor is highly amused and curious when it comes to her reaction, leaning in to her touch when her vision is cleared. She takes her time to map out her features like one would a solar system, brows furrowing in concentration. Then, as she's drawn closer, she draws light circles against the material of her top where her arm is slung around her, testing her reactions. When Yaz makes no effort to stop her, she dips warm fingers just under the material, light and gentle against her skin. She retains eye contact even as she leans in, stopping just short of her lips. "May I?"

Consent is important, but Yaz laughs nonetheless. "No complainin' here."

The kiss which follows starts out soft and gentle once again, however their closeness, plus the fact they're in a bed this time, means it turns rather heated a lot quicker. In no time at all, the Doctor shifts, hooking a slim leg over Yaz's own so she can settle snugly over her hips. She's still not quite in touch with her new body, so the new sensations are slightly overwhelming. A gentle bite at the Doctor's bottom lip leaves her gasping into Yaz's mouth, hips twitching, looking for something to help with the increasing burning in her gut. 

Warm palms make their way beneath the hem of Yaz's top, and she pulls back from the kiss to silently ask permission. The nod Yaz gladly gives in return has the Doctor lifting her pyjama top up and over her head, as adorable as the dog on the front of it may have been. The sight alone has green eyes aglow with a very new, very welcome change, and she leans in to press a flurry of kisses from the junction between her ear and her jaw, right down to the curve of her breast. She holds her gaze throughout, delighting in the sounds, movements and dilated pupils she earns from the other woman. 

"Mmyou have too much clothing on." Yaz stammers through a gasp when the blonde lathers the same generous attention to her other breast. She earns a smug little smirk - like the cat who got the cream - before the Doctor breaks away to slip her own top over her head, casting it aside carelessly before she leans back in, capturing her lips again. "You... are... gorgeous, Yasmin Khan." She practically purrs between kisses, sliding a hand between them to toy with the waistband of Yasmin's tartan pyjama bottoms. 

"Can I? Please?" The Doctor whispers, hot and breathy against the shell of her ear. Yaz is breathlessly nodding at this point, because if she's going to ask like that, there's nothing she wouldn't let her do. She looks stunning, all flushed pink cheeks and chest, blonde hair messy but somehow she still makes it work. She thinks she could probably pull anything off, given the chance. She raises her hips in invitation.

With the gentlest of kisses to her lips, the Doctor ducks down to slide the garments down and off, settling them aside to straddle slim hips once more. She looks like a child at Christmas, unsure which present to open first. Warm palms slide up along Yasmin's stomach to her chest, where the Doctor slips both beneath the cups of her pretty emerald laced bra. Curiously, she caresses and explores, her actions determined by her counterpart's breathless moans. "Do - do you want me?" 

"Yes... you have no idea how much I've thought about this." A shiver rolls down the blonde's spine, hips shifting on their own accord. She breathes the softest of moans when Yazmin boldly slips a hand up and along her thigh, tugging gently at her leggings (she'd borrowed them from Yaz the night before after a dispute about sleeping in culottes and her trench coat). With a bit of shuffling and a near-miss with the bedside table, the Time Lord is back on track, equal with her companion, only two thin pieces of material separating them. 

"You've thought about this? Us?" She hums, her words encouraging a slow descent of kisses from her neck to her torso, just beneath the lace of her bra, while her hands explore along her thighs. She smooths her palms up and down her thighs tentatively for a few moments, nerves suddenly building in her stomach and making her hesitate. It must show on her face, because, through a cloud of arousal, Yaz reaches out to touch a hand to her cheek.

"Hey, hey. I want you really bad right now, Doctor. There's no need to be nervous." 

Frankly, that's all the encouragement she needs. Settling against her, the Doctor captures her lips at the same time as her hand slips past the waistband of Yasmin's underwear, finding nothing but damp heat. She flattens her palm, starting a slow rhythm of caresses just to swallow her soft moans and keens before a single digit slips past her heat and into her core, earning a particularly loud moan as Yaz begins to move against her. Her pace increases slowly and gradually until Yaz all but begs her for more, to which one digit turns to three and she pulls back to watch her features soften in absolute bliss. Oh, she could definitely get used to this. What that means, however, she doesn't think too much about for now. 

It's a slow, absolutely heavenly descent into bliss for Yasmin, using all her strength to hold back her release just for the awestruck look on the Doctor's face. With just the right crook of her fingers and firm pressure on her sensitive bundle of nerves, she can't hold back any longer. The Time Lord can tell by her features, leaning in to purr and whisper encouragements against the curve of her neck, breaths ghosting over her ear. "C'mon, Yaz. Let go for me."

The soft cry of the blonde's name which slips from her lips is almost enough for her to follow suit. her hips buck and kick as she helps her prolong her release for as long as possible, pressing her lips against her throat in a flurry of open mouthed kisses. She still has so much to learn about her body, and this is just the start.

It takes a long few moments for Yaz to compose herself again, such an intense release leaving her drained of energy. She does, however, still see the desire in the Doctor's eyes, so she shifts, using the last of her strength to flip their positions. From this angle, she can see the way the Time Lord's chest heaves and the rapid pulses in her neck. 

"You're so beautiful, Doctor. Especially like this. Let me return the favour, please."

One single touch has the blonde moaning under her breath, lashes fluttering closed as she gives in to her frustrations. Somehow, Yaz knows just where to touch and where to apply pressure to leave her breathless, hips rising for more. It's hardly surprising that when she eventually slides a hand between them to tease at her entrance, she almost comes apart then and there. The sensations are so new and so different that when Yasmin has her releasing under her tongue a few minutes later, she's forgotten her own name. All she knows is Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz...

The rest of the morning is a blur of pure bliss, leaving the two of them spent and exhausted. It's not until lunchtime that they reappear to help with making lunch, both freshly showered and sharing knowing looks between conversations with Ryan and Graham about the day's plans. 

They're too distracted to notice the conceded look on Ryan's features when he hands his step-granddad a ten pound note, earning a quick-witted "told you so" for his troubles.