“I know I said you had a stupid round face, but it’s not. Not stupid, I mean. It is round. Good round. It’s good to kiss.”
He pauses, deciding whether to continue and risk revealing too much emotion at once.
“I think you’re brilliant. You make me very happy.” There’s so much more he could say on that subject, but he’ll say it later through the adoring way he gazes at him.
Koschei removes his glasses and sits up out of the Doctor’s lap. He cups his face with practiced gentleness, caressing the barely-encroaching wrinkles of his oldest love’s face. Every crinkle in the Doctor’s skin, he loves individually and well.
“My clever, clever ploy. To get you to prove your own pretty words.”
He kisses him then, with more fortitude, more enthusiasm, deeply. There’s the softest suckling sound as he pulls back to study his face.
“You’re the one I’ll always want.”
A nuzzle.
“Even if you called me Stupid Roundface, and even if I called you Grandad.”
Icarus 