Wrote this for Jamie (allrightfine) on tumblr for her birthday this year - there is actual smut this time, as well as kissing and fluff. Enjoy :)

On the first day she ends up at the Societies Fair. Not that she really wants to join any stupid societies. She doesn't really mind Rock-Climbing or Netball or Cheerleading, but she doesn't want to have to make friends with these people. She doesn't really want to be here at all. When she had said that she wanted to get out in the world and do something, she wanted to do it. She didn't want to spend three years getting a degree before she started doing anything. She wanted to travel and see things and smell things and taste things – to experience the world for real. Books and maps and documentaries can only get you so far, but everyone had thought she should get some sort of qualification first.

She stops in the middle of the crowded room, surrounded by stalls and people who are no bigger than normal human beings, but are starting to make her feel incredibly small and insignificant. It's overwhelming. She shouldn't have come here on her first day, she should have stayed in and acclimatised to being here. She had chucked herself in at the deep end and now she's paying the price.

In the space of a second the room has tilted violently, and she finds herself sprawled on the floor, hair in a messy curtain over her face as she tries to understand what has just happened.

She is on her feet again in seconds – which does nothing to help the disorientation she's feeling – hauled there by a skinny boy in a striped suit who looks for all the world like he has just accidentally snapped her spine, a.k.a. guilty and panic stricken and apologising profusely. He is tall, tall enough that she has to look up to meet his eyes, which are wide with worry.

She gives him a smile and a nod, a sign that she is relieving him of his duties as "person who just caused serious injury". She expects him to run off and trip up some other poor unsuspecting person, but instead he asks her how she is. Rose opens her mouth to tell him she is fine and dandy thank you very much (maybe not in those exact words) but instead finds herself blurting out exactly how alone and confused she is, standing there in the middle of a crowd in a place that she does not want to be. She snaps her mouth shut and feels colour rising swiftly in her cheeks.

He tells her she'll be fine. You get used to it, it will be fun, best years of your life, you'll make friends easily, all in the same boat. All the usual clichés that she detests. He cocks his head on one side and just looks at her, brown eyes so curious and so piercing and so... brown. And he shrugs and then grins and looks away from her for a moment, giving her time to take in a big gulp of air, not realising that she had been holding her breath until now. He jokes that he is supposed to say those sorts of things to make her feel better. "The university only really cares about making you feel better, not whether or not you actually are better."

She twists her hands together and looks around her, wondering which of the societies he is going to try and get her to join, after he's finished trying to "make her feel better". She doesn't want to admit to herself that, for all that she's known him about 30 seconds, he has made her feel happier, removing a tiny bit of the solid lead weight she's been carrying around in her stomach for weeks.

He sees her looking and gives her that grin again – he should stop doing that, it's really very distracting - and tells her that he isn't actually in a society. "I was curious" is his reason for being there, and Rose doesn't have any trouble believing him. "Wanted to know what was going on here, but it's easier to find out stuff if you pretend you already know. They," – he points at a group of students surrounding a table full of ropes and pictures of people with ridiculously happy faces climbing mountains – "think I'm part of the LGBT society, and the LGBT lot think I'm with Rock-Climbing." He notices the head of the LGBT society narrowing her eyes at him, and grimaces. "OK, may have to make a speedy exit. I noticed you bypassed the Running Society, but is there any chance you'd join me in a swift jog?"

Rose grins and nods, taking the proffered hand and nearly having her arm yanked out of the socket as the strange boy sets off at a sprint.

It's been 2 weeks and for 10 of those 14 days they have seen each other. They drink more tea than she would've thought possible, talking about anything under the sun and going for adventures, most of which consist of exploring somewhere they've never been before and, normally, get chucking out of some sort of establishment. They spend a lot of time running away from bad things and towards other, better things, hands clasped between them just like the day they first met. She gets to know his moods (mostly manic) and his facial expressions (numerous and bizarre). He has a way of asking her questions that make her feel as if he really cares what she says. He the most real person she has ever met. Plus, his hair is really great.

She starts to suspect he has some sort of Spidey-sense style alert system, because the amount that they "accidentally" bump into each other is almost suspicious. His innocent denial of this ("of course I don't have Spidey-senses, d'you think I'm stupid enough to get bitten by a dangerous spider?") only reassures her slightly, and she watches closely for signs of ridiculously good reflexes and web shooting abilities.

She doesn't need to worry about the reflexes. The Doctor is clumsier that she would've thought possible, verbally as well as physically. The way he knocked her over the first time they met – "literally knocked you off your feet," he tells her, grinning smugly – is a good indicator of what's to come. On three separate occasions she has to step in to avoid him talking his way into being punched in the face. After the third time she decides it might be better if they just stay in instead of trying to go out and be social. She does not miss the smile that he manages to smother when she suggests going back to her flat instead, and tries to ignore the clenching feeling in her stomach that is half excitement and half nerves.

On the fifteenth evening they're sitting on her bed (sadly a single one, and ridiculously narrow at that) watching a film, forgotten mugs of tea balanced on the nearest available surfaces that aren't covered in clothes, rapidly turning cold.

She finds it hard to focus on the film when she's leaning against him slightly, his arm warm and solid against her own. It curves around her shoulders soon enough, pinstriped cuff brushing her sleeve as he trails his fingers over her shoulder and upper arm. Well, that's distracting, she thinks, wondering whether he's doing it on purpose. She sometimes gets the feeling that he doesn't know anything about the effect he can have on her with a gesture so trivial as an arm around the shoulders . He turns his head away from the film and looks her right in the eyes. Oh, he knows alright.

When he kisses her it's magic. Not quite magic in the normal sense, but she definitely feels like she could float a couple of inches off of the bed, if that counts. At least, she would have done if it wouldn't have meant breaking away from the Doctor, who is not in the least bit clumsy when it comes to kissing abilities, she has to admit.

When his hands slip to the clasp of her bra, she can't say she's surprised, but it's a little unexpected. Considering the Doctor's awkwardness, he is proving to be quite forward and reasonably adept at making her limbs feel like the bones have been removed and replaced with electrical wiring. Tingles run up and down her spine, goosebumps rise up on her arms where his hands are running over her skin, and she has to be grateful to however many people it was who have kissed him before she had got there. Despite the fact that it makes jealousy bubble inside her to think of someone kissing him who isn't her, anyone who helped him hone the frankly just about orgasmic things he is doing with his tongue deserves a pat on the back and some sort of gift basket.

When her knickers go flying across the room and hit the opposite wall, Rose realises that the Doctor is entirely too clothed for her liking, considering the activity they are about to partake in. She soon sorts that out. He has so many layers, this boy. She gets impatient and begins to tug at his remaining clothing with more force, wanting to feel his skin on hers. He smiles at this, looking down at her and gently kissing her nose before making swift work of his jacket, shirt and tie. His trousers are already on the floor, and pretty soon he's naked.

It's definitely her favourite look for him.

When he scrabbles on the floor and produces a condom from his pocket, she grins from ear to ear. He's very prepared, reasonably organised, possibly a bit cocky as well. Whatever the reason, she's glad of his planning ahead.

When he thrusts into her she moans loudly before suddenly realising that the people in the rooms either side will be able to hear any noise that they make. When he thrusts again and hits a certain spot inside her, she gasps loudly before deciding that her flatmates can go to hell. She wraps her legs around his skinny hips – skinny but strong, oh so delightfully balanced between the two – and urges him on, bucking beneath him in an effort to get him to hit that spot again.

When he pays special attention to her breasts, she vows never to put her bra back on again, if this is the reaction she gets to taking it off, along with her top. That tongue is bloody talented, she has to give him that.

When she's getting close, he's whispering in her ear and she's covered in sweat and somehow she wants to spend eternity in this moment, however tiring and potentially frustrating that would be.

When they've both finished and they're both lying still, hearts hammering as their breathing begins to slow, she relishes his weight on top of her. Him being solid and slightly crushing one of her legs, the feel of his breath on her neck, those sensations are the only things assuring her that what just happened was not in fact one of those daydreams she tends to have during particularly boring lectures – the sort of daydreams that made her want to get away sharpish and be on her own in the comfort of her bedroom so she could take care of the arousal building inside her. The Doctor reaches down and recovers the blanket that had been drawn over their legs before things had escalated. Rose can feel her eyelids drooping, and she strains to catch one last glimpse of his face, glowing with happiness and pleasure, before sleep begins to overtake her.

When the film ends and the credits begin to roll, neither of them are awake to notice.

Her flatmates say his nickname is stupid. She is inclined to think so too, occasionally, but she is also of the opinion that her flatmates are mostly horrible, so she defends him. She cannot wait to move out of halls, to get into second year and share a house with some people on her course that she actually likes (creative writing attracts creative people, and Rose definitely prefers them to the narrow minded fools who she was unlucky enough to end up in halls with.)

The Doctor, on the other hand, is up to his elbows in physics and astrophysics and general sciencey things, subjects she finds interesting and is curious about abstractly, but when he actually begins to explain the intricacies of them he may as well be speaking Elvish for all she understands what he means. She doesn't mind really, when they're lying crammed in together on her tiny bed in her tiny room and she can feel the rumbling his voice makes because her cheek is pressed to his chest (bare, her favourite look for his chest she has decided.)

Months pass, and she gets into the swing of things. Makes friends and does assignments (atrociously, she is certain), argues with the Doctor, sleeps with the Doctor, lets her guard slip around the Doctor and allows him to slowly work his way into her heart, settling in and making himself at home before she's even realised it's happening.

He lives in the city with his older brother Jack, so he's always around. As it happens, his brother is apparently very outgoing and flirty (Rose's requests to meet him have been fobbed off with great skill) and always has someone (or several someones) over, so it's Rose's flat that becomes their base. More and more of his clothes end up in her room, one of her mugs becomes "his mug", his favourite DVDs pile up on the desk, and numerous jars and bottles of hair products are stuffed into every nook and cranny. She enjoys watching him do his hair, his endless frustration that it keeps sticking up ("But you want it to be stuck up!" "I know Rose, but not like that!") and the inevitable fact that he is going to be late for his lecture because his hair is extremely important to the safety of the planet or some other rubbish. She does not let him preen for long before she brings him back down to planet earth, sometimes with words but mostly with her lips and tongue. It seems to bring him out of his self-obsessed bubble pretty sharpish.

She talks to her mum about him. She doesn't mean to, but it turns out she can't speak for 30 seconds without mentioning him in passing, and her mum soon gets sick of it and tells Rose to bring him back with her when she next visits. Of course, any number of excuses are made as to why they can't come back, but she can hear the grin in her mum's voice as she calmly tells Rose that it's fine, it'll be summer soon and he can come and stay then. The Doctor presumes bad news when he comes in wearing just a towel and Rose doesn't do that thing where she looks at him from the top of his head to the soles of his feet and licks her lips. Needless to say he is very affronted when she reveals that the reason for her apparent shellshock is the fact that her mum wants to meet him.

"I can't believe you are trying to hide me. Rose Tyler, you are... there isn't a word for what you are, but I'm making one up as we speak, and it's going to be glorious!"

"You don't want me to meet your brother!"

"Yeah, but that's not because I'm embarrassed of you. You're fantastic and amazing and I'm worried he'll charm the pants off you and I'll never see you again."

"Oh, don't be a twat, why would I ever let him do that?"

"You haven't met him; you don't know the effect he has on people. And anyway, that's not the point; you don't want your mum to meet me!"

"Doctor, she will interrogate you! She chases away boyfriends like a fox chases chickens. She thinks it's funny. With Jimmy – oh god it was so bad, and Mickey! Poor Mickey, I don't think he's ever gotten over it, the poor boy."

It takes a lot of soothing words and cuddling and bribes of banana cake before he stops pouting and being stroppy. Once that task is accomplished, she has the towel off him in a matter of seconds.

The holidays roll around, and Rose has had her house for next year sorted for months. Donna and Martha and friends from her course and she just loves them. The Doctor comes with her when they look around the house – Rose introduces him to her friends and tells them in no uncertain terms not to take any crap from him – and they very nearly end up christening the bed in her room there and then, before the door bursts open and Donna turfs them out with a very loud "Oi!" and a raised eyebrow. "Save it for when we move in, dumbos, and if you interrupt my sleep with any of that nonsense there'll be hell to pay." The Doctor nods meekly, ears reddening to match the rest of his blushing face, and Rose laughs her head off before dragging him out to look at the square of concrete that is going to be their garden.

He helps her to pack up all of her possessions, chatting about what they're going to do when he comes to visit her in a week or so. He'll be staying for a while, and she's coming to stay with him for a few weeks too. Of course he wants to go everywhere possible in London while he's there (his enthusiasm is more endearing than tiresome) and is planning months worth of exciting adventures that they are going to have to cram into a couple of weeks somehow.

The packing keeps getting tossed aside for other, more fun activites, such as blowing bubbles with the left over washing-up liquid, building a fort with the boxes, the Doctor putting on Rose's bras over his suit, and snogging. The snogging is beginning to turn into some else when Rose quickly pushes the Doctor's mouth away from her own – his noise of protest is just about pathetic.

"My mum is going to be here any minute to pick up my stuff – do you really want the first time you meet her to be her walking in on us, like this?"

He shudders and steps away from her. "Probably not. But I'm coming to see you next week, right? So we'll have some time together then, won't we?" His grin turns sly, and he leans forward to whisper in her ear.

Her eyes flicker closed at his proximity to her, his lips just brushing her ear in a way that surely should not be as arousing as it feels. What he's saying on the other side is definitely meant to be arousing, and just as Rose is wondering how fast they can rip their clothes off and whether or not there is enough space between the stacks of boxes, the door slams open and Jackie Tyler steps into the room.

"Rose Tyler, step away from that stick insect, your mother is in the room." They spring apart as though they are repelling magnets, the Doctor bumping into a box and nearly falling on his arse.

"Mum, do not call my boyfriend a stick insect," Rose says sulkily, noticing the Doctor stand a little straighter out of the corner of her eye. He loves it when she calls him her boyfriend, it seems to make him inexplicably happy.

"Well, he's wearing brown and he's skinny, basically the same thing." Jackie looks him up and down in a way that makes him feel like he is on trial for something. "So this is the famous Doctor, is it? My Rose seems to have taken quite a shine to you. I've got to warn you, though, if you hurt her then I will use the rustiest nails I can find and I will—"

"Thanks mum, I think he gets it!" Rose leaps in before Jackie can get any further with that particular threat.

The Doctor gulps and tries to regain his composure. "I understand, and I promise you that I will never let anything bad happen to Rose." He wonders if that was the wrong thing to say, but Jackie's face breaks into a smile and she pulls him in for a hug. The Doctor glances at Rose, who is giving him a double thumbs-up and jumping up and down with glee.

Jackie steps away from the Doctor, throwing her bag at him, which he only just manages to catch. "Right then, let's get this stuff sorted." She grabs a couple of boxes and sweeps out of the room.

"So..." The Doctor manages to stutter.

"Yep," Rose replies cheerfully, "that's my mum."

"She's... she's... you and her are both very..."

He falters at Rose's expression, and just leaves the sentence hanging in the air. Who says that sentences need to have an end anyway, especially if that end is going to earn him a smack?

"But anyway, she's sort of accepted you into the family now – we both have. There's no escape for you any more." Rose laughs maniacally, allowing the sound to escalate and fill the room with evil cackling.

The Doctor waits until she has stopped fulfilling her obvious dream of being a super villain and has become herself again, before he takes her hand. She squeezes it, feeling warmth spread all the way up her arm and through her shoulder, filling her whole body with a delightful, fizzy sensation. "Who ever said I wanted to escape?" he asks her, voice low and intense, and the warm feeling spreads up through her lips and pulls her face into the widest grin she can manage. "We're stuck here together, you and me."

"Yeah, well stuck with you, that's not so bad."

"Not so bad?" His eyebrow nearly flies off his face in its speedy effort to raise itself. "I'll have you know that I am spectacular in every conceivable way."

Rose looks up at him. "Not really. You're lacking in some departments, and your kissing leaves a lot of be desired." She can taste the obvious lie on her tongue, and she knows that he knows that she's lying through her teeth.

"We'd better get downstairs or your mum's gonna find a use for those rusty nails she was talking about earlier." He spins around and turns back quickly, a box of books in his arms. She picks one up too, standing up with it clutched to her chest and trying not to overbalance. He takes advantage of the pause and leans over once more before they make their way downstairs. It's nothing really important that he needs to do - he just needs to show his Rose how "not bad" at kissing he really is.

This time Jackie catches them.