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,”
“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!”
“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.”
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.
Koschei deposits all his work on the long laboratory table and strides over to his husband. He straddles his lap and gazes at him with marmish incredulity.
“Yeah, luv, as soon as you can explain to me how you couldpossibly forget all the reasons. Shall I catalogue them alphabetically or by subject?”
“It’s not a reflection of you, I promise,” he says, taking his husband’s face in his hands and kissing his forehead before pressing their heads together. “Just a bad head day. You know how it goes.”
Koschei removes his reading glasses and settles himself more firmly on Jack’s lap.
“That I do, husband, but you miss my point. I am prepared to lavish you with reasons for your greatness. Gird your loins, or rather, don’t, for I’m about to charm off your knickers.”
He clears his throat, theatrically.
“The High Classical Greeks have striven in vain to sculpt your perfect face and body. But this barely touches upon the beauty of your mind, heart, and soul. You have the mind of a scientist, an artist, and an intellect. The heart of a poet and an adventurer. The soul of one who secretly, for all his playful transgressions, wishes to warm his feet by a hearth cozied up with a special someone.”
He wriggles a bit.
“Lucky for you, here I am, dearest friend, father of my children, hero of my hearts. You may now express your accolades in return.”
“Were a book written on the virtues of being handsome, intelligent, kind, perceptive, selfless and beautiful, it would be one page long and feature a picture of you.”
Icarus 