River Song's husband isn't what you'd call a great lover. He isn't bad in bed but he's not especially good either. The problem is he panics; he gets flustered and indecisive, and God he talks too much. Far too much. River will admit to having a mouth on her but she knows to shut up during sex. The Doctor will prattle on about androids and Marco Polo and Neptunian tennis, so much so that on a few occasions River's had to yank his hair and remind him that he's meant to be focussed on her. He doesn't enjoy sex like she does, River knows. It doesn't repulse him, but he's considerably more ambivalent than most other people. It's different for Time Lords- despite her absorption of the TARDIS, River is still partly human, and a human daughter of Amy Pond at that. So their sex drives are disbalanced, plus there's the fact that in this body he hasn't had much experience, nor is he particularly up for experimentation. He doesn't like anything involving pain, he's not confident enough to enjoy being a dominant but too jittery to be tied up himself. So usually it's vanilla sex during which he'll fumble and chatter and repeatedly ask, "Umm, is this okay?".
Romance is hardly the Doctor's strong point either. When she was younger River had attempted to entice him into going on dates; restaurants, museums, moonlit strolls around 1930s Mfantsiman. But inevitably he'd career off to meet Paa Grant. In museums he'd skulk after her like a bored child, grumbling, "But what's the point? We're time-travellers," or he'd work himself into hysterics laughing at mistakes. At the restaurant table he'd spill his drink and knock his elbow into the butterdish. River has learnt a few knacks that work for dates; the Doctor's always up for the theatre or a concert. He can't dance for toffee but he enjoys it, so sometimes they'll go to an Ute Bear Dance in the 12th century or to an 80s rave. Picnics or star-gazing work too. She's accepted now though, that their most romantic moments will always be in the heat of danger. Kisses before they run off in different directions while a fortress collapses behind them, "I love you"s declared only when there's a revolver against their heads. He gets fidgety when he cuddles her in bed, but leave them on a bare cell floor for the night and he'll give her his jacket, let her use his chest as a pillow, and play with her hair while she sleeps. He's at his sweetest when there's no pressure on him to be. He'll blurt out something daft and perhaps there'll be a compliment lurking somewhere in it, which the Doctor may or may not have realised is there.
River's learnt a few ideas about sex too. If he hasn't seen her for a while (yet another complicating factor) she'll have to go slowly; get him used to being touched by her again even if it's only linking arms or drumming her fingers on his knee at first. He likes a lot of kissing before anything goes below-waist; it warms him up and calm him down. Having a bath together works too and, perhaps oddly, so does having sex when he's tired; he'll be much more inclined to spend an hour in bed with her if it's late and they've already done their day's adventuring. That way he doesn't feel like he's missing anything. Of course, River still fantasises about him crashing the TARDIS into her cell, grabbing her and going at it fast and rough bent over her desk, but realistically that's not going to happen. Often a blundering, awkward shag is the best he can give her. Some days he'll kiss her for hours but nothing more. Sometimes she knows that he knows that she wants to go further but she can see him getting uncomfortable so she doesn't push it. That's not love, is it? Love is accepting that that's how he is. And God, River is in love with that man. Irretrievably. Madly. Utterly head-over-high-heels. The effect he has on her is embarrassing and she thanks God she learnt so young to lock her hearts away and not tell anybody where the key's hidden.
"Aha! Knew I had it somewhere!" comes a triumphant yelp from the corridor. The Doctor appears, beaming and carrying what looks like a pile of blankets, and with a couple of beaded necklaces strewn around his neck. He trots down the TARDIS stairs, hurls a blanket at River and crows, "See, I knew this necklace was Muwaan Mat's. Well, one of them is, I think the other was her sister's. Or her mum's. Maybe her brother's". He holds each necklace up to inspect, then shrugs, "Well, one of them anyway. River? Are you ready?"
So he's not much of a lover and hardly a romantic. He's pasty, bumbling and co-ordinationally challenged. He's got the face and body hair of a twelve-year old, the dress sense of a seventy-year-old toff and the hair of, X But the way he's looking at her, bouncing on the toes of his battered boots, rubbing his hands with glee and flicking his ridiculous hair out of his face while he grins at her, River doesn't care. He's hers and, he loves her, and she loves him. She stands up, crosses over to him and takes his hand. They walk outside together.
Thank you for reading, please review. PS- Soz Matt, I'm sure irl you're great in bed ;)