itsjustkind:

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ sclfmastery:

At first the Doctor’s fussy concern pleasantly flusters him, and the Master is very nearly bashful.  

But then he chuckles, and it’s rich and genuinely amused, without a touch of the habitual snideness.  He reaches down and pinches the Doctor’s sides, even as they’re still touching foreheads, even as his beloved gazes furtively, ashamedly, into his eyes. It’s a tacit reminder that their lives need not be marked by grave ceremony all the time; they know each other way too well for that.  

      “You really are a silly sausage.  I would do anything for you, genius.  Willingly.  But it seems we’re at an impasse, as you’re wired to do the same for me.”  

He kisses first the Doctor’s chin and then his lips.

    “You should know I will be there every time you awaken.  Again, my vow to you.  And you should further know that the shame you’re feeling, that I can practically taste between our minds, is misplaced, my love.  Take it from someone who’s always suffered self-imposed claims of invincibility, just to cope with what was done to me by the same bastard that shoved you in that Confession Dial.”  

His surprise registers both physically and mentally at the Master’s playful touch. He jumps visibly, and there’s a quick flash of a grin on his face, before he replaces it with a glare and something that might resemble a pout, if he’d admit to such a thing. The telepathically transmitted shock, however, is much more difficult to mask. It’s exactly the same kind of surprise he always projects when he’s given unexpected affection, and he has no ability to suppress it. 

The forced glare disappears after a moment. He doesn’t mind really, even if he does expect his reaction to be the source of a new wave of amusement from Koschei.

“Yes, well, it might take me a while to get used to that. To you, being there. Knowing. I’ve been very good at pretending it’s not a problem for a long time, so — be patient.” Be patient, the way I’m not patient with myself. 

The Doctor releases the Master’s shoulders, and wraps his arms slowly around his waist instead. His movements are carefully measured and thought out. 

“You’re being far too nice to me, given how stupid I’ve been about this.”

     “Oh, do shut up. Never call me ‘too nice’ again.  Remember the hell I’ve given you over the millennia.  I don’t want to hear that I’ve gone soft in the will as well as the tummy.” 

The Master pinches the Doctor’s arm suddenly, without ceremony. 

   “I’ll acclimate you to my magnificence faster if I continue to do naughty, mean things like that, on a mundane everyday basis,” he cheerily explains.  “Anyway!” He sinks back into the embrace that his beloved has so carefully executed.  “You know … given what you’ve survived, my love, I’m proud.”  

He chuckles straight from the gut, and rubs circles in the Doctor’s spindly back.

   “And if you’re asking me to be patient–me–then you’ve forgotten that patience has been the one virtue I’ve always exhibited in spades. Don’t worry.”