All Ages. Fluffy baby!fic. 506
“Come on! You can do it!” the Doctor urged as he sat crosslegged on their bed, his son in the middle and surrounded by their puffy comforter.
The little boy sat there, chewing with delight on his teething ring set, laughing at his dad’s exaggerated frustration.
“Please?” he said with a pout.
The baby clapped, the toy rattling as he did, as he let out another unintelligible mix of vowels and consonants. The Doctor could have sworn he heard some combination of “dada” in there, but at this point, he’s almost as confident that he heard something as he is that he’s making things up.
“Dada,” he says slowly, pointing to himself. “Da. Da.”
His efforts were met with another delighted giggle.
Rose examined this new new new Doctor. He looked exactly like the other Doctor, acted quite the same way too. A smirk appeared on her face as she realized the implications of two identical Doctors.
The blue-suited Doctor caught her smile and grinned. However, he seemed to have understood the meaning behind her smirk, because he turned away and looked up in embarrassment.
While he had never been adverse to the ephemeral and dizzying concept of Sex With Rose Tyler, the Doctor didn’t much appreciate the very human warmth pooling deep within his abdomen simply from that look in her honey eyes and the not-particularly-subtle curve of her cherry lips and the alluring scent of Rose (strawberry shampoo and ever-so human pheromones and buzzing Void Stuff he’d surely enjoy licking off her olive skin).
The stuffy traditionalist in him reminded him that he was currently in the process of guiding a planet back to its position in time and space, and lusting after Rose Tyler could wait.
Besides, if he knew his other self (and he suspected he was something of an expert in the Doctor’s psychology, considering), he’d have a lifetime to explore; he’d be a cartographer, tracing the contours of her curving body with fingers and lips. He’d relearn the exact shape of that gorgeous freckle on her shoulder; she’d gasp and sigh like she always did, but there’d be delightful changes because this Rose Tyler was a woman, a matured smoky thing birthed on a Norwegian beach years before.
And then his other half rolled his eyes, mentally whispering something about humans and their uncontrollable sexual urges.
The Doctor decided to go find Donna, because there was absolutely no way that she’d exacerbate what was bound to grow into a… sticky situation.
He hadn’t always been a dirty old lecher, had he?
↳ The Doctor being forced to wipe Donna’s memories of him