peg22: (shtorso)
[personal profile] peg22

 . . . because she asked and because she so valiantly carries the flag for S/H and because I was writing the Big Bang story and it is too long and too hard (and I don't mean in a good way) and I needed a break. It is Paulie and Davey and it is NOT ABOUT THE RECENT PAST.



Title: Doctor Soul
Author: Kaye
Rating: Oh yeah, there is teh sex. sort of.

(and a small shout out to Laura who put a nasty idea for a crossover in my brain and now it is seeping into everything . . .)



Doctor Soul

 David: Hello?

Paul: Hi.

D: About fucking time.

P: Really? There’s a time for that? I thought it was a 24/7 kind of thing with you.

D: I have been worried about you, asshole. Called you a thousand times.

P: I was offline for a while. And I will end this conversation if you talk about it.

D: You’re kidding, right?

P: Goodbye, Davey.

            (click)

            Fucking asshole. (David’s phone rings again)

D: Hello?

P: Let’s start again. Hi, Davey.

D: Hello, asshole.

P: Better. Where are you?

D: Cardiff. Filming a little something for a little someone named The Doctor.

P: You are not.

D: Yes, Paulie, I am. Some of us old schmos have to work for a living.

P: The Doctor? They let you be on The Doctor?

D: Well, not “on” him. He’s like 12 – that would be wrong. I’m some dastardly bastard from some evil planet, intent on destroying earth.

P: Aren’t you always?

D: Yeah, and they thought our shit was formulaic.

P: Our shit was formulaic.

D: Do I get to ask how you are doing?

P: Fine, thank you, yourself?

D: Dandy – fucking hell, Paulie – are you okay?

P: Yes, I am. Next question.

D: Fly over here.

P: Not a question.

D: Fuck that – if you need to hide, I’ll hide you.

P: I don’t need to hide. I need work.

D: Oh, I can work you.

P: That actually sounds tempting. If I didn’t know it would end up with some embarrassing public display in the middle of Wales.

D: I’ll send the Tardis for you.

P: Is that a code?

D: Yes, code for get your ass over here where I can see it and make sure you’re okay.

P: You don’t trust me?

D: With my life, with my wife, with my credit cards.

P: You’re married?

D: You know what I mean.

P: Don’t you want to know why I called?

D: I was hoping you were finally answering my ten thousand text messages.

P: Oh, those.

D: Oh, those? It’s like dating a damn girl, you know that?

P: Yeah, but you’re the girl.

D: I know. Sitting by the goddamn phone, waiting for your ass to call.

P: And now I have.

D: I love you, you know.

P: Where the hell did that come from?

D: Oh, I can’t tell you I love you now?

P: Well, yes of course . . . I just . . .

D: The correct response would be, I love you too, Davey.

P: I love you too, Davey.

D: Thank you. Now why did you call?

P: Missed you. Needed to hear your voice.

D: Could hear my fucking voice if you ever listen to your messages.

P: Not that voice. Your voice. The purr, not the growl.

D: Fuck, you’re in a mood. You wanna hear this voice.

P: That’s the one.

D: The one you could hear all night in your ear if you get your ass over here.

P: Almost, Davey – kinda growled there at the end.

D: How bout this voice? Damn, Paulie, I miss you too. Miss your face and your ass and your eyes and your mouth – oh hell. Come over here.

P: To hide?

D: To visit. To see me. To let me see you.

P: You only want to see me?

D: I want to see you and feel you and fuck you and get drunk with you and fall asleep with you and wake up with you and fuck you again. I want to pin your hands over your head and make you beg for it. I want to curl into your chest and never move again.

P: Fuck . . .

D: That voice okay, Paulie?

P: I . . . fuck . . .

D: My hands need to feel you, Paulie. Only my hands will tell me if you’re really okay.

P: Only your hands?

D: My hands. On you. All over you. Goddamn it, Paulie. I’m hard as a rock here.

P: Keep talking . . .

D: So you come to my hotel room and you take a shower and the water’s hot and the soap helps but what you really need is waiting for you in the other room and you come out of the door and I shove you down on the bed and I grab your wrists and I kiss your neck and you’re so ready – from the shower and the plane ride, where all you thought about was grinding up against me – and I move down the bed and take your dick in my hand, and you buck your hips up against me and I move down further and I move  my other hand up your chest, finger your nipple and your dick is twitching and my dick is grinding into the sheets and you reach down and stop me, pull me back up toward your chest and you grab my dick and I crawl back up and we’re facing each other and then you kiss me and I suck your tongue down my throat and it tastes so good, like smoke and whiskey and and we're wet and slick and the rhythm is familiar and ancient and you think you’re going to come first and you don’t want to come first because you want to watch me and I want to last forever because in those seconds right before we come and then come down, we are exactly who, where and what we are supposed to be. And the strokes get faster and we’re hot and sweaty and wet and then your eyes close and your head falls back and the growl starts from your dick up through your chest and I watch your throat and the noise that comes out of your mouth  makes me come against you, over and over. Fucking hell . . . .

 (silence, except of course, for heavy breathing)

 D: Paulie, you okay?

P: Uhh . . . fuck. Yeah. I just realized I’m out on the deck.

D: You what? Fucking hell. And you talk about me?

P: Damn . . . that was . . .

D: The best phone sex you’ll ever get.

P: So much for the post-coital.

D: I got your post coital. Get on a plane. We can re-enact. Take Two. Better lighting.

P: Tempting. If I could move my legs.

D: I’ll send a car. They can load you in the back.

P: Thanks. And thanks . . . for . . .

D: You know there’s no extra charge for a house call?

P: From the Doctor?

D: Hell no, he’s a child I tell you.

P: Okay.

D: Okay what?

P: Okay, I’ll come.

D: I thought we just took care of that.

P: Yes we did. Fuck . . . that was . . . no listen. I’ll come see you.

D: Really?

P: Really? You are the girl.

D: I’ll be anything for you, honey.

P: Honey?

D: Darling?

P: Please, I’m changing my mind.

D: Don’t. You need me Paulie. That’s obvious.

P: I am going to regret this but . . . you’re right. I do need you.

D: And I need you back.

P: Just don’t make a big deal about it, okay?

D: Hell no, I’ll just hide you in my trailer and start to take a lot of “breaks.”

P: It’s been a while since we’ve been in a trailer.

D: On second thought, make it the Ritz. Fucking trailer’s hard on the old legs and back.

P: Somehow you just managed to turn me on and off in the same sentence.

D: Face it, old man – we cannot do it on the floor like we used to.

P: Is that a challenge?

D: Only if we put a chiropractor on retainer.

P: Probably right. Now, is Captain Jack in your episode?

D: You bastard – still holding that torch?

P: He is pretty. But no, you’re the only torch I’m interested in holding.

D: Ah, Paulie, you say the nicest things. Now get off the phone and get that ass over here.

P: Bye, Doctor Soul.

D: That’s Doctor Feelgood to you.

fin

 


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