Koschei currently clings to Jack by all four limbs, after having taken a running leap from a distance of nearly ten feet, straight into his arms. He’s grinning maniacally.
“It’s an accurate representation of the depth of my zeal for our love,”
<333333 thank you :C <3333333
“Hm? Ohhhh Vick, marvelous, GOOD! What great, solid structure shall we build today?”
The Master plops down on the hardwood floor beside his son, and rattles his hands through the sea of plastic blocks. He grins at him, diabolically, and winks.
“Order from chaos, that’s the natural route. We have to start messy. Go on. Knock something over. Then we’ll rebuild something even MORE beautiful!”
Jack will be able to feel the grin against the crook of his neck.
“You had better.”
And a very sharp pinch of both ass cheeks.
“Can I ask you a question?” he says pensively. They always go in peaks and troughs, these two, and though they’d both been fairly steady for a good long while, it could only last for so long before one of them slid down again. This time, it’s Jack, whispering from the couch in Koschei’s workshop underneath the weighted blanket he got him for Christmas last year.
He doesn’t wait for his husband to answer, though he does pause to find his courage again. “If the Doctor showed up tomorrow, apologised and begged forgiveness, promised they’d never leave you again… What would you do?”
The question pierces Koschei through both hearts simultaneously, like a lance entering his chest from the side.
He literally, physically stumbles in the process of carrying toys the twins left scattered on the floor of their seaside cottage to their cedarwood toy bin. The look on his face is probably more betrayed than he’d wish.
“Look, I know I have my moments of insecurity too, but I am begging you not to tell me you think I’d honestly leave you.”
“Mmmmmmmhmhm,” the Master hums at the delectable greeting.
He draws the Doctor near, feasting upon her, his face doting, more wholesome than most might believe him capable. It could not be clearer that he delights in every beauty and blemish that make the Doctor who she is.
“What did I do to deserve that, hmmmm? Tell me so I can do it more.”
He pinches her bum, and rubs her lower back warmly.
Koschei resolves to try something new; he spins Jack in his arms. He dips his husband low to the floor, and guides him back upright for a hard passionate kiss.
“Surprise.”
He thinks, naively, that he’s gained the upper hand now (connoisseur of control that he is).
Koschei picks up the chocolates and grins at the real evidence of his husband’s doting: the note, which declares him unequivocally, unquestionably, needed.
The note, which states that he is a source of something good and healing, rather than something violent and destructive.
That he offers happiness to his beloved.
Secretly, there is nothing else in the world that he needs more, than to be essential to someone.
He stands and tucks the flowers into his shirt pocket, and trots to the kitchen, and then the dining room, and then the deck, where he finds his Sam.
“This gift isn’t complete until you feed me one, or several, of these,” he purrs, leaning across him from behind, placing the chocolates on his chest and kissing his ear.
The pair of them are sitting across from each other, yogi style, knees bumped together, when the Doctor brightly declares this.
The Master leans in across the purple couch–the couch he promised he’d procure for the Doctor when she exclaimed how much she wished she owned one–and kisses her. No predication, no warning, he just does so, and enjoys thoroughly the perfect lock of their mouths into place. There’s a pattern to the “randomness” of the stars, and to the “chance” of lives meeting.
“That would be divine, if my best friend joined me.”
Icarus 