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To Last Forever (1/1)

Title: To Last Forever
Rating: M for sexytimes. Nothing kinky, unless your kink is a famous painter having sex with a redhead in leather boots, with a humanoid alien lending a hand where necessary. In which case, you're in the right place.
Pairing: Amy/Vincent/Eleven
Summary:  Starlight is romantic. Amy does what she will. Doctor POV
Spoilers: 5x10 "Vincent and the Doctor"
AN: Title based on Vincent van Gogh's last words; "This sadness will last forever."

The Doctor’s not particularly surprised when Amy kisses Vincent.

Well, why would he be? It’s a romantic setting. There’s the moon, the stars, the narrow escape from being mauled by a blind, invisible alien. Not that the last one is romantic, exactly, but it does tend to lead to deep thoughts on life and what one wants from it. Vincent’s been murmuring away, explaining with a sort of frantic reverence the way the colours swirl across the sky, clutching at both their hands like he was afraid he would fall into the inky blue firmament. Or more likely, that the Doctor and Amy would fall, whirl away like wisps of smoke and leave him wondering if they were just more phantasms his madness had conjured up.

Amy’s looking at the Doctor now like she’s expecting something from him. Maybe he should go? But no, that’s not it. He squirms around so he’s lying flush against Vincent’s side and brushes the hair away from the artist’s eyes. There’s nothing in Vincent’s eyes but wonder, and so the Doctor decides to kiss him, gently, just to see how it goes.

Oh, and it goes very well indeed. Time Lord skin is more resistant to beard rash than human’s (he has Rassilon to thank for that, not that he ever will) and Vincent’s body is warm under his slightly cooler one. Amy’s hands are unbuttoning Vincent’s shirt, Vincent’s trousers, scratching at his nipples and making him cry out into the Doctor’s mouth. He feels Amy shift away and concentrates on kissing Vincent as deeply and as thoroughly as he can.

His old self never would have done this, he thinks dimly. Before his last regeneration he burned with passion, so fierce that he could hardly bear it. It was always all or nothing, and since he knew very few people could take his all, usually nothing. Even at the end he raged against the breakdown of his body, the mutagenic energy running through his veins to start a process that he’d gone through so many times before. He doesn’t have that in him anymore. In this body he can be calm, even serene, and so he is content to kiss Vincent van Gogh without devouring him whole.

He feels Amy’s hand on his hip and breaks away from Vincent’s mouth. He hears Vincent gasp and shifting onto his side the Doctor can see why. Amy is poised above Vincent’s stomach, stripped of all her clothes, her hair tumbling over her shoulder. Vincent’s eyes dart over her breasts, her legs, and spend a long time following the curve of her waist down to her hips. Even in the moonlight her dark pubic hair gives off glints of red. Her eyes blaze with stunning intensity, like the sun refracted through a precious jewel. The sight of her is like a snapshot of erotic daydream, a titian nymph suddenly come to life. The whole effect is inestimably enhanced by the fact that she has contrived to leave her black leather boots on, ready for an abrupt departure should the need arise.

The Doctor wonders what Vincent sees of her. Did he see the curls in her long hair, or did he see swirls of turbulence in a cascade of molten light? No way to know beyond getting him to paint it, and that might muck up the timeline a bit. The Doctor knew he couldn’t paint or even put into words what he saw in Amy, except that it shone equally brightly whether she was saving the Star Whale, or walking through a forest with her eyes tightly closed, and even when she was little Amelia Pond, sleeping every night with a crack in reality on her wall. Or when she is lowering herself slowly onto Vincent van Gogh’s cock while he groans helplessly beneath her.

“Shh, it’s all right,” the Doctor whispers encouragingly into Vincent’s ear. “She’s beautiful, our girl, isn’t she? So bright and brave and kind, and really quite fit, wouldn’t you agree?” Vincent doesn’t answer, perhaps because Amy is moving torturously slowly, up and down, rolling her hips with each stroke in a way which makes Vincent gasp for breath. “You did so well today Vincent, you really did. We came here to help you and in the end you saved yourself, saved all of us.” He pauses. “You made us want you. Made us want to kiss you, and take you, and give ourselves to you in return...” As the Doctor continues to whisper into Vincent’s ear, words of lust and words of love, Amy picks up the pace. She leans down to kiss Vincent and he palms her creamy white breast with his paint splattered hand. Amy moans and sighs, her hand finding the Doctor’s again and he squeezes it reassuringly.

They are moving together now, thrusting in a frantically increasing tempo, voices rising into the air of the surrounding fields. With a cry Vincent comes, his eyes wide open, pupils blown wide with uncomprehending ecstasy. As he falls back against the soft grass the Doctor notices a hint of frustration in Amy’s eyes. Well, that would never do. An idea springs to his mind and he sits up, puts his hand on Amy’s shoulder.

“Trust me?” he asks, looking deep into her eyes.

“Always,” she replies; one part flippant, one part loving, one part deadly serious.

“Alright then,” he says, reaching and stroking her clit where she is still impaled on Vincent’s member. “One, two, three!” and on the third circle he reaches out with his mind and pulls at the bundle of nerves hidden behind the thin layer flesh.

Every muscle in Amy’s body seems to tense, her jaw dropping in shock. Then she screams, and convulses, and it is only the Doctor’s arms around her shoulders that stops her from falling face first into the dirt. Eventually her screams turn to pants as the aftershocks make her tremble and control over her body returns, although the dazed expression on her face remains.

“Whoops,” the Doctor says. “May have overdone that a bit.”

Vincent laughs and cradles the stunned girl in his arms. “There’s no maybe about it, Doctor.”

“M fine,” Amy mumbles. “Gimme m’ jacket.”

The Doctor retrieves Amy’s jacket and swings it over her where she is lying on Vincent’s chest. She is holding Vincent’s hand again, so the Doctor grabs Vincent’s spare in his left and Amy’s in his right, then brings both hands to his lips and kisses them. “Beautiful,” he says again, “and this beauty will last forever.”


( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
Jun. 9th, 2010 08:05 am (UTC)
Absolutely stunning fic! Very sensual and just so lovely. I refuse to believe this didn't actually happen. ;D
Jun. 9th, 2010 11:35 am (UTC)
Thank you so much! To tell the truth, I'd never actually written a fic with nekkid bits before, but something about this episode made me. So I'm glad you liked it :)
Jun. 9th, 2010 11:21 pm (UTC)
Mmmm, I'd been hoping for something like this. Very nice. :)
Jun. 9th, 2010 11:31 pm (UTC)
Thank you! I'm glad I wasn't the only one who watched that episode and expected the internet to provide bittersweet threesome fics. And thanks for reviewing.
Dec. 27th, 2010 10:06 pm (UTC)
jesus. That was...well, apparently my kink IS "kink is a famous painter having sex with a redhead in leather boots, with a humanoid alien lending a hand where necessary." HEEEEE. ♥
( 5 comments — Leave a comment )

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