Work Header

This Fic Was Written Under Duress

Work Text:

"Ah damn, space aliens!" said The Rock, looking up at the invading space aliens as they descended on the city. "All I wanted to do was buy a gallon of milk for the adorable, racially diverse third-graders I have apparently adopted!" (Note: this is The Rock from that one milk commercial that aired during the 2013 Super Bowl where he is basically a demigod but ignores people in trouble to get milk for the adorable, racially diverse third-graders he has apparently adopted. For shorthand, he may be referred to as MCTADT2013SB!Rock.)

"They're not just space aliens," said a man in a tweed jacket and bow tie, standing next to him. "They're Daleks, and I'm afraid they're here to retcon... all of us."

The Rock jumped in surprise, then snorted. "What are you, some kind of professor of space?"

"Oh, I'm no professor," said the man, with a little smirk hovering around his lips. He turned to the camera and winked. "But some people do call me... Doctor."




It was some time later. The Dalek mothership had shot down all the aircraft mobilized against it and then landed directly on the downtown area of the city, crushing skyscrapers and sending people fleeing in panic in a scene largely composed of CGI explosions over B-roll from Transformers 2. The two men had snuck aboard through a secret back door that Doctor Who knew about from the time he killed all the Daleks.

"So if you destroyed their entire race," said The Rock, laboring to twist a heavy bulkhead open, "how come they just parked their damn space station smack in the middle of the financial district?"

"A heretofore unknown sense of justice?" said the Doctor, watching as The Rock's back muscles flexed like a ball python having sex with a strong octopus. "No, just joking. I think it's because they must have gone back and changed time in a way that circumvents whatever time thing we did to kill them. I can't be bothered to check Wikipedia."

"Brother, I gotta tell you, I have some sympathy for the victims of attempted genocide." The Rock finally heaved the door open, admitting them into a dim, misty hallway that could be easily set-dressed by interns if the shop foreman came in with a hangover.

"I can't entirely disagree with you, mate," said the Doctor. "I have some guilt about the whole thing. It was..." he turned to the camera again. "In another life."

"Shh!" hissed The Rock, putting his hand firmly but gently on the smaller man's arm and leaving it there maybe a little longer than was entirely warranted. "I hear some of them coming!"

The two squeezed close together, into an alcove that was just barely sized to accommodate a six-foot-five-according-to-his-IMDB-page human and his five-foot-eleven-huh-really-he-seems-taller compatriot. The Daleks rolled down the hallway next to them, beeping and flashing lights and chanting, as they always did:




"That was weird," said Matt, when the coast was clear. "They are well-known for chanting an entirely different word, that, in an interesting twist, rhymes with that one."

"Also, are they always studded with protruding dildos?" said The Rock. "Because if they were I ASSUME you would have referred to them as 'dildeks.' I just came up with that."

"No, that's also new."

"Maybe we should investigate further," nodded The Rock grimly. "There's only one way to get to the bottom of this."

The Doctor looked like he was about to reply to that with something about getting to bottoms but he changed his mind.

"We'll need to move quietly where we won't run into any more patrols," said The Rock, and pointed to a nearby air vent. "If my guess is right, that will lead to a central ventilation system just under the command module. But the cover looks sealed on..." He reached up and pried at the edge, but even his mighty fingers slipped off before he would work them under. "Damn! If only I had a screwdriver!"

"Say the magic word," chuckled the Doctor, removing a small, familiar-looking device from his jacket pocket.

"Milk!" said The Rock.

It turned out the vent was a little bit of a tight fit for a very large and muscular man who trains 3hrs/day and can eat a two-foot stack of pancakes in one sitting, so they had to take off The Rock's shirt and cover him in a special, clear lubricant fluid they found in a supply closet. The Rock was sort of suspicious about that, though, so first the Doctor had to take off his shirt and smear it on his own body as well. This is just to establish that that happened in case it comes up later.

The Rock popped out of the vent and dropped several feet down to the darkened floor. "I think the coast is clear," he hissed, rising to stand and hold up his arms to catch the Doctor as he slithered out of the tube. He gently lowered him to the ground and peered around, trying to catch sight of any nearby exits. "So. You usually work alone, Doc?"

"Actually, I prefer to have a companion," said Doc with a little sigh. "A gentle soul whose matter-of-fact nature and curiosity serve as a foil to my misplaced enthusiasms and blasé reaction to outlandish sights. But it's been some time since I met such a person... an Earthling I felt that connection with."

"Yeah," said The Rock wistfully, "I know. Someone who makes you laugh one minute, but feel grounded the next."

"Exactly. Someone who can drive you crazy, but who's also the only person who can talk you down after a bad night."

"Someone with a smirk that makes you dizzy, and a pair of brown eyes you could just fall into..."

"Someone like Amy Pond," murmured the Doctor, almost too quiet to hear.

"Someone like Vin Diesel," whispered The Rock, lost in thought. "Wait, did you say 'Earthling?'"


The lights came on, revealing that the two men had been ambushed! Surrounding them on all sides were dozens of menacing, phallic Daleks--wait actually that might be better than "dildeks." Shit. NOTE go back and change that later

"What do you want with us, space aliens?" growled The Rock, clenching his fists and standing up straight, flexing in such a way that he appeared larger so as to instinctively repel predators.


The rest of them took up the chant again, closing in on the two men, accompanied by a frenzied buzzing as the vibrators attached to their sides all activated simultaneously. "COP-U-LATE! COP-U-LATE!"

"Doc, I'm not sure they have a nuanced, emotionally engaged and fulfilling concept of sexual congress in mind!" said The Rock, back to lubed-down back with him as the muscles in his arms writhed like a dozen softballs being forced through a pastry bag.

"Where the tools of peace fail, the tools of... other tools must be taken up," said Doc grimly.

"Huh? You gonna whip out that sonic screwdriver again?"

"Only in a manner of speaking," said the Doctor, unzipping his high-waisted tweed trousers and revealing his erect Gallifreyan penis, which is similar to a human penis but rotated ninety degrees.

The Rock stared at him, one eyebrow arching so hard it nearly climbed off his shiny forehead.

"Geronimo!" cried the Doctor, leaping forward at the surprised lead Dalek and jamming his dick right into that kind of sucker thing on the front that let's face it we've all thought this about.

"THIS DALEK IS... CONFUSED," it said, starting to shake and rattle, its beeping lights flashing faster and out of sync. "WE EXPECTED COPULATION... BUT NOT... SUCH FEELINGS OF... ECSTASOHFUCK!"

With a shower of sparks and a blast of gray-blue smoke, the alien screeched its way through the most powerful orgasm any of its kind had ever experienced, convulsing with such unexpected power that its metal sides imploded. The Doctor barely leaped clear as it crumpled like a soda can, letting out one last wheeze of ecstasy as its lights went dark.

"Did you just fuck that thing to death?" goggled The Rock. "Is THAT how you killed them last time?" The other Dalsex hesitated, still trying to look menacing, but also confused and not sure whether to be sort of a-little-scared-but-turned-on-about-it.

"Don't worry," smirked the Doctor, "it's only a LITTLE death. It'll wake up later and badly want a cigarette. Meanwhile, if we're going to get out of here, I may need some help..."

The Rock shook his head. "Whatever you do," he sighed, undoing his gym shorts, "don't tell my racially diverse adopted third-graders about this."

The Rock's penis had a bunch of sexy, meaningful and spiritual Samoan warrior tattoos but only on the left side.

"SO BE IT," clanged another of the robots. I don't care if they are not actually robots it's just a stupid television show they look like robots DO NOT email me about this "TRULY, THE FATE OF THIS PLANET WILL BE WON OR LOST... BY SEX BATTLE!"



"Quit yer yappin'," growled The Rock, pouncing on the nearest opponent as both of them trembled with anticipation, "and get to fappin'!"

Then he heaved it upside down and discovered that they have a hole on the bottom.

The fight was fierce and sweaty, and the sounds of hotly contested congress filled the steaming chamber. The Rock rocked one Dalek into explosive climax, then immediately spun to take on another, employing every reflex and instinct he had learned during his professional wrestling career. The Doctor, for his part, relied on his unearthly stamina and brilliant mind, discovering almost instantly the most effective method to drive each of his sparring partners "to infinity and beyond." One after another, the horde of Daleks collapsed into screeching puddles of bliss. But then...

"Doctor!" gasped The Rock. "You gotta help me!"

"Mmm?" replied Doc, somewhere nearby in the murky fog of ecstasy and also regular fog.

"I'm about to have The People's Big O!" he panted, relentlessly boning onward as the Dalek attached to him sucked like the vacuum of space. "This is fanfic, so my refractory period is mere minutes, but if I get all cuddly and sleepy... I'm finished!"

There was an audible pop. "Sorry, have you been fighting ALL of these things with your penis alone?"

"What? Of course! You said we had to have sex with them!"

"Mmmmf!" The Doctor let out a muffled laugh. "My dear fellow, you don't have to travel the galaxy to know that sex can entail more than just THAT!"

"Huh?!" The Rock managed to crane his head around and peer through the dimness. As he did, a double electrical explosion illuminated the Doctor, on his hands and knees as the center of what had been--until just then--a spectacular space-alien spit roast.

The Rock stared in awe and thrust once more, sending his own Dalek off into paroxysms of self-destructive pleasure. "Brother," he said, prying himself loose, "you're telling me that receptive acts can be just as masculine and powerful as those in which I am the penetrator?"

"Well, that's hardly a strict dichotomy," grinned Matt, wiping exotic fluids from his mouth. "But yes. And I have a hunch it's the only way we can win this fight."

"You've given me a lot to think about," admitted The Rock. "But first, I've got an idea from last Wednesday's workout routine." He turned back to the advancing throng and grabbed a dozen of their dildos in each of his mighty hands. "Who wants to smell what The Rock is jacking?!"

A lot of them did.

The frenzied, dripping, arched and heavily-gasped battle stretched on for hours. Even the Daleks who got too excited and accidentally COP-U-LATEd each other to pieces barely stemmed the tide of invaders. Yet despite wobbles and the occasional near-collapse, each time, the Doctor and his new companion would rally each other to new heights of ability. And then, suddenly, they looked around to see nothing but twisted piles of unmoving metal in every direction.

"Is that all of them?" panted The Rock, his penis trembling with each beat of his pulse.

"I think it must be," managed Doc, trying to lean on him with one arm but forgetting about all the lube and sliding off. "Now, if I can find my pants somewhere under all this..."

"NOT. SO. FAST," came a gigantic shriek, reverberating through the ship like the world's biggest rusty car door.

"By the hammer of Thor," whispered Rock, as above them, the ceiling split open to reveal a silhouette cast by blinding lights.

"Impossible!" Doctor squinted up as the shape began to resolve itself. "It was just a legend! There's not really such a thing as Megadalek Prime!"

"PERHAPS NOT IN YOUR CONTINUITY," crackled the gigantic being, twenty meters tall if I am remembering what meters are correctly, as it descended on a gravity beam to loom over the two exhausted men. "BUT THIS... IS AN AU!!!"

"I don't even know HOW to fuck that thing, Doc!" shouted Dwayne. "I may be big, but nobody's THAT big!"

"Neither of us can go it alone," cried the Doctor, and grasped his hand tightly. "But perhaps we can do this... together!"

"PUNY CREATURES!" screeched their enemy, opening a dozen orifices filled crackling energy. "PREPARE TO FACE SEXY DOOM!"

"Not today, chuckles!" The Rock bent down and boosted the Doctor onto one powerful arm. "FASTBALL SPECIAL!" With a tremendous heave, he sent the other man--naked but for his trusty screwdriver--hurtling bodily into its nearest opening.

"Geronimo!" shouted Matt before he disappeared into the vortex. "Wait I already said tha"

"FOCUS!" Rock called in after him. "This has to be a two-pronged attack! I'll find a place on the outside!" With a leap of his own, he began to scale the very surface of the Megadalek, testing every protrusion he could find with his nimble fingers.

"FOOLS! YOU WILL N-NEVER... DEFEAT... OH WOW. OKAY YEAH--WHOO--FUCK--I MEAN, NEVER DEFEAT ME... THE ULTIMATE COPULATOR!" Its tone was boastful, but its beaming lights began to pulsate and flicker unevenly, a testament to the Doctor's skillful work within. Meanwhile, Dwayne was certain he had found just the right spot to apply himself. Grasping it with both hands and kicking off his steel-toed boots to use his feet as well, he found that he still couldn't quite manage to manipulate the last six inches of its trembling length.

"I hope you were right, Doc. Looks like it's time to put this honey where my mouth is," he said grimly, and opened wide to take it all in.


The neural shockwave from the explosion rippled outward in a slow-motion shot that cost most of the CGI budget which is why the stuff with the planes earlier looked so cheap. The psychic energy unleashed was so powerful that it caused literally every being capable of orgasm to cream their pants for a twenty-mile radius. The destabilized mothership shattered like an eggshell, huge slabs of its space-structure sliding inward and burying the entire chamber in a billowing cloud of dust.

In the midst of the biggest climax of his thirteen lives, the last thought the Doctor had before unconsciousness was "oh man, I should grab something to clean this up..."

"Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? It's breakfast!"

The Doctor swam slowly back into the waking world to find himself tangled in blankets and a glowing late morning sunbeam. Peering into his room and holding a skillet full of pancakes was Dwayne, seemingly none the worse for wear aside from a small x-shaped bandage on his temple.

"I thought that was me regenerating for sure," mumbled the Doctor, patting himself down gingerly to find that he was clad only in a vastly oversized pair of boxers. With relief, however, he noted his screwdriver and tattered bow tie resting on the nightstand nearby.

"Sorry about the borrowed clothes," nodded The Rock, "but I did at least manage to find those before my personal helicopter rescue squad of quirky, misfit commandos homed in on the beacon I planted on your shoulder back in like paragraph ten. You've been out for a while! I'm sure you're hungry."

"Famished," admitted the Doctor. "And quite thirsty. I don't suppose I could trouble you for a pot of tea?"

"Hey," smiled The Rock, "anything for my best friend." They were best friends now obviously. That was how the Doctor could see past the sunny, triumphant attitude in Dwayne's eyes to diagnose... a hidden wound.

"Let's have a talk," he said quietly, later, after he had eaten three pancakes and The Rock had eaten forty and sent his adopted third-graders off to their summer arts day camp. "I may look like a charming, youthful fellow who appeals to a new demographic of potential fans, but in fact I've... been around, if you know what I mean."

"No, I noticed that," said The Rock.

"It was amazing to fight side by side with you." The Doctor put a hand on his arm let it linger there, this time not because he was secretly planting a homing beacon. "You took on a menace to the entire planet and the bounds of your own sexuality at the same time yesterday--not to mention saving my life. That's bound to be a bit overwhelming."

"I was damn lucky I had you with me," said The Rock, heaving a sigh. "Neither one of us could have done that alone."

"Very true."

"But I have to tell you... when the whole thing came crashing down, and I didn't know if we were going to make it out of there... all I could think was of someone else." The Rock's eyes grew distant and perhaps, at the corners, showed a hint of tears. "And how if I died, I would never have told him how I felt."

"Vin," said Matt quietly.

The Rock just nodded, pursing his lips with a manful struggle.

"Can't you tell him?" The Doctor nodded at the phone resting near the people's elbow. "Just pick up the phone and say what's in your heart?"

The Rock shook his head. "No. It's... we're close, but not that way. I want to. Of course I want to. But if it upset him, if it ruined our friendship, just because I'm so d-damn selfish..." He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, gripping the table so hard it left marks. His muscles stood out like one of those ten-foot-thick vine-covered tree trunks in the Disney jungle boat ride.

"You're one of the most selfless men I've ever known," said Doc quietly. "Anyone you invited into your heart would be incredibly lucky."

"I can't. I just can't. Not yet." The Rock swallowed.

"Then you're just going to keep carrying around this hurt inside you?" The Doctor's hand was still on his arm, skin warming to skin.

The Rock's eyes opened and turned to him, more perceptive than he had expected. "Well, I'm not the only one here who does that... now am I, Doctor?"

Startled, he took a deep breath. "No. I suppose not."

A wry little smile quirked The Rock's mouth. "Well. Maybe in the meantime, we can both figure out some way... to find a little comfort."

For the first time in what felt like a century, the Doctor found himself blushing. "I--I don't suppose you have something in mind?"

"Only one way to find out," whispered The Rock, and leaned in.

His lips were soft--startlingly soft, for a man whose body rippled with so many sharp edges of muscle. His skin, too; for some reason he had expected it to feel as if it were carved out of oak, but it was yielding to the touch when he peeled the thin black t-shirt off over his head.

Matt hadn't managed to get dressed in more than a bathrobe anyway, and that was quickly untied and discarded in the mounting pile of clothes on the floor. Unused to turning his head upward to kiss, but finding himself at a distinct height disadvantage, he shoved the plates down the table and climbed up on top of it, kneeling there and pulling Dwayne in firmly with a hand on the back of his neck.

"I thought I was the one who was supposed to get on the table and take my clothes off... Doctor," breathed Dwayne, his own big hands resting lightly on Matt's hips. Matt could feel his smile as they kissed again, harder. Neither of them had had a chance to shave since the battle, and the sandpaper feeling of stubble on stubble was a little raw--and more than a little intoxicating.

He fumbled at Dwayne's big stupid belt buckle and managed to get it undone, sending it clattering onto the floor as well as the bigger man scooped one arm under his hips and lifted him easily to carry him over to the kitchen counter. Matt mmmphed in surprise as the change in positions shifted him closer, their chests pressed warm and flat against each other; he could feel each tiny shift in Dwayne's muscles against his own, and he suspected that the trembling he felt there wasn't just from the effort of picking him up.

"So," Matt said, breaking the kiss for just a moment to run his nose and lips up along Dwayne's jaw, "I understand you learned a little something about receptiveness yesterday." He took an earlobe in his teeth and gently bit.

"Better bite harder than THAT," growled Dwayne, grinning and tugging himself loose before bending to give a return bite to the side of Matt's neck. Matt yelped a little in welcome surprise, fingers clenching, feeling out the dip of Dwayne's spine between the shifting slabs of his back. "But yeah, I did. Think I need to prove anything to you, Doc?"

Matt found his nipple and gave it a teasing tweak, and this time it was Dwayne's turn to let out a startled sound. "Only if you want to."

"Believe me, I do," rumbled Dwayne, and tugged that funny, pretty Gallifreyan cock out of his shorts to take it in his mouth.

Matt found himself taking a deep, deep breath and seemed unable to let it out. His fingers kept grasping, trying to tangle themselves in Dwayne's hair, but of course they only found the smooth skin of his scalp. He found the ear he'd bitten instead, curling around the back of it to stroke the soft skin and brush one finger after another under the lobe. Dwayne made an appreciative sound and pulled his hips closer with one arm, experimenting, seeing how deep he could take Matt into his mouth, then his throat.

It was pretty deep. Matt's other hand clenched on what he was pretty sure were Dwayne's hardback-sized delts, and he couldn't help but try to lift himself up a little, or at least roll his hips to thrust. Dwayne responded gladly, pulling back to tighten his lips around the head and flick his tongue under it each time Matt pushed in.

He could feel himself drawing inward, an electrical hum at the base of his spine, and he gripped Dwayne's shoulder. "Don't--don't make me, um," he managed, for once almost at a loss for words. "Go. Yet. I want to--I want to show you--how I can take it too--"

"You sure you can handle it, old man?" said Dwayne softly, and the feeling of his lips moving with the words made Matt bite his tongue.

"Believe me, I've handled more," he breathed, sliding out of Dwayne's mouth and off the counter. "Down this hallway, I assume?" He let himself stretch, his body doing its own lean rippling thing, and he could feel Dwayne's eyes trace him, hot and hungry.

"Right you are," said Dwayne, "but I should warn you that only a very foolish man interrupts The Rock in the middle of a meal."

"Guess I'll just have to take the consequences." Matt grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the bedroom, grinning, cock bouncing with every step.

I'm not sure where this joke about being bigger on the inside should go so I'm just going to stick it here.

Teeth sinking into Dwayne's shoulder, face flushed and twisted with the tight pleasure of being ridden, Matt felt each thrust push him closer and closer to the edge. He wrapped his legs around Dwayne's lower back and begged for more with his whole body, and Dwayne gave it to him, one broad hand pulling him upward to drive deeper still.

"Okay now," gasped Matt around a slippery mouthful of Dwayne's neck, "now make me go," and they came together in a long shattering moment of tension and arch and surprisingly vulnerable cries. Matt felt Dwayne emptying inside him even as he splashed his own climax across both their bellies, slick and hot as both of them contracted and throbbed and finally fell back down to the vast expanse of his sheets.

"Holy fuck," gasped Dwayne, eyes a little wild, chest heaving as he pulled out and rolled onto his back.

Matt couldn't really make his mouth say words, but he managed to find Dwayne's fingers and clasp them in his own, squeezing once and hoping the squeeze back didn't break his hand.

Later, in the giant shower The Rock had built just in case he had to have two or three people in there with him, the Doctor traced his tattoos as hot water ran down over them in rivulets. "These actually quite resemble the body art of the Tafroonian people of Eligat Five," he said, smiling. He looked up, feeling suddenly a bit shy. "You know... if you wanted to go see them, I could take you. Sometime."

The Rock grinned. "Don't take this the wrong way, Doctor, but if my experiences with aliens in the last day are any indication... I get the feeling I'd be pretty much wrung out before we even got out of the solar system."

"Oh, believe me, it's not always like this." Doctor Who pinched his bum, cheekily. "Meeting you has been rather a special case."

"And there's my adorable third-graders to think of... not to mention, well." Rock rolled his eyes, thinking again of the heartache that ached in his heart. "You-know-who."

"I do." The Doctor nodded understandingly. "Well, if you ever change your mind, the offer stands. I can be back... any time."

"ANY time?" chuckled Dwayne.

"Yes," came a familiar voice from the door, "ANY time," and a future version of the Doctor peeked around the corner, followed by a sheepish-looking copy of The Rock.

"Hold on!" cried the Doctor (the one who was still naked in the shower). "Won't both of us being here simultaneously cause a collapse in the space-timey-wimey stuff?"

"Ahhh, you worry too much," laughed The New Rock, pulling off his muscle shirt as he strode into the bathroom like a hundred pythons that had learned to use teamwork and coordination to combine into a biped form and walk. "It's like I keep telling you... nothing wrong with a pair o' Docs!"

They all paused, turned to wink at the camera, and then fucked.