Fic commentary: The Power of Cheese

[nonelvis]

Requested by nostalgia_lj.


I wrote this story for nostalgia_lj, who wanted non-angsty Doctor/River with the prompt "cheese." Writing something fluffy instead of angst wasn't going to be a problem; "cheese," however, was, since no matter how much I love cheese (and I do), I didn't want to write fic in which Eleven and River smear cheese all over each other. Not my kink.

The title, of course, is a reference to the advertising slogan. I realized about halfway through writing the story that it was the right title, and kept trying (and failing) to convince myself that it was just too terrible a joke to use. But good titles are hard to come by, so I went with it.

"If you really loved me," said River, "you'd get up and make me a toasted cheese sandwich."

I later received a comment from someone saying that the British eat cheese on toast, not toasted cheese sandwiches. Oops. In my defense, I consider River more a citizen of the universe than specifically British, but point taken.

The Doctor gave River's still-tender nipple one last affectionate nibble, then propped his chin on her sweat-slicked chest, continuing his work with thumb and forefinger instead.

"What makes you think I love you?" he asked.

"You come when I call," she said. "Actually, you come when I do all sorts of things."

*rimshot*

"Mmm, that could just be raw animal attraction." He caught a trailing bead of sweat with his fingertip, sucked it in. "And why is a toasted cheese sandwich absolute proof of my feelings?"

"A truly caring partner would attend to his lover's need to refuel after sex. Especially since refuelling allows her to have more sex." She poked his head for emphasis. "With him."

I can believe that even while in bed with River, Eleven still might need that little reminder. He's not completely ignorant about sex, but I just don't see it as something that's always at the forefront of his mind.

"Thank you for the clarification." He chased another sweat droplet with a finger, a ticklish zigzag that concluded with him lapping the drop from her belly.

"Not that it's made any difference," she replied.

The Doctor spread his fingers wide, slid his hands sideways and up, sweat smoothing the route to River's breasts. He shifted the rest of his body downwards, sucking more moisture from her body as he went, each kiss provoking a tiny tremor.

"River. Are you honestly telling me you'd rather have a cheese sandwich than this?"

... that said, the man does like a challenge.

His lips glided across her abdomen, frustratingly delicate caresses at the ridge of River's hipbone, the thin and vulnerable junction where upper thigh met groin. He withdrew a hand from her breasts, drifting across her curves until his thumb grazed River's mons, traced the shape of her.

Still not totally happy with the use of the word "mons"; still totally happy with "thin and vulnerable junction." When you write as much pornography as I do, it's really easy to end up using the same words and phrases over and over, so I'm always pleased when I manage to come up with something new I like.

"You're very persuasive," she murmured, shivering at his touch. "But I still want my sandwich."

"So stubborn. This must really be quite a craving."

He didn't slip inside, not just yet. Took his time stroking her, watching her reactions, waiting for her to break.

Instead, her stomach gurgled.

ROMANTIC, AMIRITE? Hey, sex isn't always, um, sexy.

"I told you," she said, and then his thumb finally, finally swept a glorious circle round her clit. She groaned.

"I can stop," he replied, but his thumb kept moving, dipped lower, was deftly replaced by an index finger that pushed inside River, made her groan again. "After all, if a sandwich is what you really want, I wouldn't want to leave you unsatisfied."

He pressed deeper with his finger, pulled back, pressed in once more. Rested his cheek against River's thigh, observing her with the same curiosity he devoted to anything he'd decided was worth storing away in that cryptic brain of his. She ought to make him stop, just for that: cataloguing her as if she were something he could ever fully understand.

I'm also very fond of the previous sentence, because it encapsulates one of the things I love most about the Doctor/River relationship: their constant, low-level competition. They love and trust each other, but combine their competence and egos with the asynchronous nature of their relationship, and inevitably, they're going to end up needling each other about who knows best, and who should be in control.

She was on the verge of saying something when he leaned forwards, flicked the tip of his tongue to her, and River bucked off the bed so violently she nearly conked him with her knee.

"Careful, dear. No snack or any other sort of treats if you knock me unconscious."

"You bast– aah ..." A magical twist of his fingers and simultaneous twirl of his tongue, and all River's complaints evaporated.

That last sentence still reads awkwardly to me. I should have fixed it.

No point in making him get up if she were only going to be hungrier in a few minutes, or possibly less if the Doctor kept following this rhythm. The steady pressure of tongue and fingers set River's skin alight, sparks from that point between her legs prickling their way through her breasts, her belly, all the way to her toes curling the cotton sheets.

She was dangerously close when he retreated, replacing tongue with his other thumb, rolling it over and around her clit until River was gasping with frustration.

"River."

"What? Oh my God, a little harder, please ..."

Excellent timing for a deep and meaningful conversation, Doctor!

"It might be a bit more than just raw animal attraction."

"And I'm so glad to hear that, you have no idea, but right now, it just sounds like you really enjoy teasing me."

"Oh, that's quite a lot of it," he said, and added, "Are you still thinking about that sandwich, River?"

More competitiveness at work, of course.

She let loose with some of her finest curses, but got nothing more than wry laughter in response. Until the Doctor licked her again, just once, a rapid wiggle round her centre that sent a sudden electric jolt through every nerve, all the way to her fingertips; and then River was coming so hard she couldn't speak at all.

I should have also fixed the awkwardness in this first sentence, as well as the repetition of "all the way" from just a few paragraphs earlier. I edit my work pretty ruthlessly even before my beta gets her hands on it, but I always find stuff later I should have caught.

When she finally caught her breath again, the Doctor had wriggled his way beside her, arm slung loosely over her stomach, his head resting in the crook of River's neck.

"I'm going to get you for that," she said, not even turning to look at him. "I'm going to make you beg in ways that haven't even been invented yet. Master scholars of begging will name all those ways after you, and then I'll make you discover a few more."

If he's going to be smug about knowing what she really wanted, she's going to have to retaliate later. Sexily.

He kissed her cheek. "I look forward to it. Ready for that sandwich now?"

"Seeded bread. The aged cheddar. And that Lobellian spicy mustard."

Lobellia is referenced in at least two other stories of mine, because I hate coming up with planet names. Lazy continuity FTW!

"Of course." He sprang off the bed, padded naked to the doorway.

"Don't forget the tomato!" River called after him. "Or the handcuffs."

</obligatory-handcuff-joke> Besides, it was the right punchline.