There’s something raw in the Master tonight, something that badly needed to be reassured of his merit, much as he’s loathe to admit dependence on anything or anyone.
He engulfs the Doctor in his arms. eyes squeezed shut. He holds her airtight. He does not let go, and will not, until she insists.
This time, it’s his dinner, from a lamb shank, which he just spent six hours seasoning and roasting, one of the culinarily incompetent Time Lord’s FEW cooking successes … . that clatters to the ground, as he catches, and is knocked over by, the Doctor.
The Master looks up from his cocktail with a set expression of fond exasperation. His expectations are not disappointed.
“Darling … .”
“No.”
Theta raises a brow at this.
“What?” She is genuinely confused over this. “It’s good…. Norwegian.”
“Love, I’m not arguing about the Scandinavian flavor, but there’ve been dirty human-feet all over it, and what’s more, earth-soil’s got Clostridium spores. D’you want your limbs to lock up and … to puke until you see colors beyond the electromagnetic spectrum? I’ll abstain, thanks.”
(continued from ask) drapetxmaniia: (10th) the doctor wraps his arms around the masters waist, hoping to surprise him as he pushed his cold nose into his neck, a grin on his lips, before he kissed it.
Koschei’s entire form tenses, the way a cat arches its back; his features contort into an expression of shock that quickly evolves into haughty outrage.
“COLD,” he protests explosively.
He wriggles like a mongoose with the intent to turn, when instead far warmer lips suckle on his neck. His deeply sensitive, long, handsome neck.
And instead he’s writhing with a host of entirely other urges.
“M-mmmm,” he groans, and flashes a lazy smile.
–//–
The Doctor Laughed softly in amusement, and takes pity on him, (If you can call it pity, or just plain teasing) before pulling away so that he can kiss his cheek.
“I seem to have captured some kind of beautiful cat-like creature,” He grinned, laughter still in his voice. “I think ill keep him all for myself~” he comments jokingly, before returning to why he suddenly decided to capture him in a hug.
“You’re not cold are you? I think The ol’ Girl’s suddenly turned the heating down, but everything is fine on screen, but i keep getting the shivers.” and as if to prove a point another uncomfortable cold spell flashed though his body, making him grimace and hug Koschei a little tighter.
“Beautiful? You flatter me.”
You could be beautiful, that face with the cockatoo hair and the pinstripes had pontificated, that long-ago Christmas.
You are beautiful, that same face states now, imparting a hope long forgotten.
“But I don’t believe you’re being a drop insincere. What a miracle.”
Deep within the Master’s telepathic channels, there’s a steady thrumming, very like purring indeed.
“I’m hardly ever cold, Hearts,” he drawls. “Which I gather is why you’re using me as a space heater.”
Icarus 