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“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.”

Federico García Lorca, Blood Wedding and Yerma


It was the adrenaline, she told herself as her heart thudded furiously against her ribcage. She could hear the shouts outside, the thundering footsteps as their pursuers raced by the hiding spot they’d found themselves in. The cubby hole was dark, a storage closet of some sort, full to the brim with boxes and crates, leaving barely enough space for one - let alone two.

 

“How long do you think it will be before they give up looking for us?” Helen whispered suddenly.

 

She hadn’t thought it possible, but her heart rate picked up speed at the sound of Helen’s voice, leaving Liv to face the embarrassing reality that it most certainly wasn’t the adrenaline causing her knees tremble.

 

“Depends on what further mess the Doctor’s created,” she managed to choke out, her breath hitching as Helen’s legs shifted, a knee pressing against the inside of her thigh.

 

“Sorry,” Helen muttered, oblivious to the uncomfortable heat building in Liv’s abdomen. “This isn’t the most spacious of rooms, is it?”

 

She laughed softly, her breath catching in Liv’s hair, and her chest pushing tighter against Liv’s own. Liv swallowed, closing her eyes and clenching her teeth together painfully. Helen shifted again, and she had to sink her teeth into her lower lip to stifle the breathy gasp that wanted to so desperately escape her.

 

“Helen,” she hissed after a moment, eyes snapping open despite it being too dark to see. “Stop moving.”

 

“I can’t help it, there’s something digging into my back.”

 

Helen twisted, one arm snaking between them as she turned to the crates behind her. Her leg shifted higher, pressing against the apex of Liv’s thighs, and this time Liv couldn’t hold back a soft moan, the sound muffled slightly by the hand she snapped up to her mouth. Helen froze, the moment stretching out, and a  burning heat rushed up Liv’s spine and spread across her cheeks.

 

“Liv?” Helen said slowly, unsure.

 

“Just, please, stop moving,” she breathed in reply.

 

Helen turned back from the crates behind her, the arm between them disappearing only to cause Liv to jump as she felt fingers curling around her hip. The leg between her thighs remained where it was, taunting her with it’s presence, with her need to grind down against it. She bit her tongue - hard enough to bring tears to her eyes - and held herself still, back pressed against the boxes.

 

She couldn’t see the look on Helen’s face, her heart in her throat as she wondered what thoughts were running through her friend’s mind. A soft hand fell against her neck, fingers threading into the hair at the back of her head, thumb pressing against the line of her jaw. A shaky inhale slipped unbidden from her lips, her own hands curling into the bottom of Helen’s shirt.

 

“Helen,” Liv warned, though her name came out sounding more like a plea.

 

“You’re very warm, Liv. Are you okay?”

 

She didn’t need to see Helen’s face to hear the teasing lilt to her voice.

 

It was some kind of delicious torture, being pressed up against the woman she so desperately craved but being far too terrified to take the plunge. Not for the first time that night, she cursed the Doctor and his habit of turning adventure into a run for their lives.

 

“I’m fine,” she bit out, pushing herself harder into the boxes lining the walls behind her. “Just fed up of waiting for the Doctor to fix this mess. I think we should check if the coast is clea-”

 

She didn’t get chance to finish speaking, Helen’s mouth somehow finding hers despite the darkness surrounding them. Liv gasped in surprise, feeling Helen smile against her lips before she pulled away.

 

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” she whispered, her forehead dipping down to press against Liv’s.

 

“I…”

 

She couldn’t think, her brain a screaming mess of fog enveloped by the feel of Helen’s body against hers. Her lips burned, a growing ache building between her thighs, throat thick with barely restrained emotion. Confusion swirled in her chest, the fear that had kept her from others for so long warring with her intense need to feel Helen’s mouth against hers once again.

 

Apparently having hesitated for too long, Helen pulled back, hands dropping from Liv and hanging awkwardly by her sides.

 

“Sorry, shit . Sorry, Liv...I...misread, I…”

 

In that moment, she could see two choices laid out before her: one filled with awkwardness and evasion, the other filled with nothing but Helen wrapped around her. Without a conscious decision, Liv’s hands were already moving, sliding up Helen’s body to curl round her neck and pull her back down.

 

Unlike their previous kiss, there was nothing chaste about the way her mouth pressed against Helen’s, the way her tongue traced the seam of her lips, delving inside her mouth as Helen gasped against her. She tasted like sweet tea, and mint, and adventure. And Liv couldn’t help the groan that echoed in the back of her throat as she pushed down against the leg pressing up between her thighs.

 

Helen gripped tightly at her hips, fingers fisting in the fabric of Liv’s shirt and pulling her flush against her body. Liv trailed a hand down past Helen’s breasts, relishing in the soft whimper released against her mouth, and curled her own fingers into the waistband of Helen’s trousers.

 

She hesitated then, uncertain, fingers pressed into the soft skin of Helen’s stomach. She knew the way Helen took her tea, knew her favourite colour, flower, smells, knew the way her eyes lit up whenever they visited somewhere new. But she also knew Helen was from the 1960’s, Earth, a planet whose history was rife with hate when all people wanted to do was love. She was desperate to ease the ache burning through her abdomen, wanted to feel Helen shatter beneath her hands, but despite it all, she hadn’t the faintest idea of how slowly her language scholar would be expecting to go.

 

“Liv?” Helen breathed as Liv stilled, voice rasping in her throat.

 

“Are you okay? With this?”

 

“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t want this, Liv,” she said softly, and Liv could hear her smile in her words, the fond exasperated tone she was so familiar with.

 

“Are you sure?” she pushed, her own fears clawing their way back to the surface and trying to take root.

 

She felt Helen’s hand curl around her own, her palm pressing against Liv’s knuckles, lacing their fingers together as she pushed them past the waistband of her trousers. Liv swallowed, every part of her burning, skin on fire, calling out for the feel of Helen’s body beneath her fingertips.

 

“I’m sure,” Helen whispered, her breath ghosting over Liv’s ear.

 

Helen’s head dipped lower, mouth pressing into the underside of her jaw, and Liv moaned, tilting her head back to give Helen easier access to her neck. Her hand slid further, dancing against the cotton of Helen’s underwear as the woman in question pressed harder against her, teeth scraping over the pulse point in her throat. She curved her spare hand around Helen’s waist, fingers burrowing beneath her shirt and burning against her skin.

 

“Liv, please.

 

The plea was all it took to have her hand twisting past the elastic of Helen’s underwear to slide against her heat. She slid two fingers inside her, the knuckle of her thumb pressing roughly against Helen’s clit. Liv groaned, the vibrations against her throat betraying Helen’s own gasp of arousal.

 

“God,” Helen panted, hands grasping against her.

 

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” she echoed, a smirk curling on her lips, finding courage in the way Helen’s hips bucked against her hand.

 

“Shut up,” Helen laughed, the sound breaking into a moan as Liv twisted her fingers.

 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Helen Sinclair?” she continued in a whisper, letting her head drop against Helen’s shoulder, fingers still curling inside her. “Do you have any idea what I…how I...”

 

She trailed off, swallowing down the emotion clinging to her throat, turning her head to press a feather-light kiss to Helen’s neck. The fear was still there, clenched tightly around her heart: the desperate need to isolate herself, to protect herself from further heartbreak.

 

Helen’s hips shifted, pushing harder against her hand, fingers threading through Liv’s hair and lifting her head to press her mouth softly against the corner of Liv’s lips.

 

“Tell me,” Helen murmured, breath hitching as Liv’s thumb moved to find better purchase.

 

“I…Helen…”

 

“Because I’m enamoured with you, Liv Chenka,” Helen pressed, mouth moving softly against Liv’s as she spoke. “You’re so brilliant. I see everyone staring at the Doctor, their eyes full of wonder. And I don’t understand it, when you’re right there with him and shining even brighter.”

 

The cage of fear around her heart cracked slightly under the weight of her language scholar’s words, warmth blossoming in her chest as she pulled Helen closer and kissed her fully. She nipped at Helen’s lips, tongue sweeping through her mouth to soothe the sting of her teeth as her fingers continued their lazy rhythm inside her.

 

Helen tensed, hands sliding up Liv’s torso to fist into the collar of her shirt, a soft whimper humming against Liv’s lips. Liv smiled, pressing her thumb more firmly against her, and Helen pulled back, her breath stuttering as she gave in and let go. Furiously wishing she could see Helen’s face as she shattered around her fingers, Liv didn’t stop, fingers slowing to an almost torturous pace and letting Helen ride out the remnants of her climax.

 

“God, Liv.”

 

“Helen,” she started, pausing to swallow down the wave of anxiety threatening to keep her silent. “I...you…you’re ev-”

 

The door beside them thumped loudly, and Liv twisted, hand pulling free of Helen’s trousers as her head knocked against a crate behind her. A low buzzing hummed through the metal before a blinding flash of light invaded their cramped hiding space.

 

She blinked, eyes squinting against the brightness, her eyes flicking to up to Helen to find her doing the same.

 

“There you are!” the Doctor beamed, his hair sticking up at odd angles and his clothes suspiciously rumpled. “I was...are you two okay?”

 

“Peachy,” Helen choked out, her cheeks a delicious shade of pink.

 

“You sure? You both look a bit…”

 

“We’re fine, Doctor,” Liv interrupted, grabbing Helen’s hand and pulling her from the storage closet. “Where’s the TARDIS?”

 

“Uh…that way.”

 

He pointed towards the end of the corridor where the familiar blue box stood nestled in an archway. Without a glance back at the Doctor, Liv tugged Helen away from the cubby hole and down the hallway.

 

“Wha...where are you going?” he called after them incredulously.

 

“Unfinished business, Doctor,” she shouted back, Helen stifling a giggle beside her. “Don't wait up!”