The Master looks up from the vulnerable cocoon of warmth and nurturance in which he’s caught. There’s startling gentleness in bottomlessly dark eyes. It’s residual from looking at his daughter, but beyond the miracle of a womb-born Time Tot, it’s the months and months he’s spent at the Doctor’s side in rare, honest, open communion, airing and nursing his wounds, and growing past them.
Beyond any miracle, reform is painstaking work.
“Believe it or not … that’s become my goal already. Blame a blonde goose.”
He’s in the middle of bottle-feeding Zinnia when she stirs and speaks these words.
“Didn’t know you were oop. Feeling rejuvenated?”
His hair falls soft in wavy snowy blond bangs these days, his clothing gone from designer to comfort, though bless him, the wardrobe hues remain red and black with occasional gray. Pure domestication, and he’s never been more content with who he is and how he lives.
He draws his laser screwdriver and dislodges the switchblade component. Fancy fingerwork boasted, he twirls it in his fingers and reaches up to shear off a strand of silver-blond hair, of moderate length.
He knots it into a small circle and slips it around the Doctor’s left ring finger.
“You said you wanted to marry him. Here he is. Marry me today.”
Suddenly, the Master is on his feet and the Doctor sits up, blinking his surprise.
“Wait– Koschei, wait, please!”
He stands, hearts still pounding, his desire ebbing, but still present. He steps forward and takes the Master’s hands, silently begging him not to go.
“I think we’re going in circles, saying the same exact thing. Please… We’re both saying that all we want is the other, that we’re done running… so why does it still feel like an argument? I… I need to forgive myself, yes, and maybe that’s stupid of me, but I feel like I can love you so much better if I don’t have this guilt hanging over my head. I’ve never told anyone some of the things I’ve told you. I want us to trust each other, and to… to be open, together. Love, you’re not high maintenance. You’re… passionate. You always seemed to me like a star, burning brightly, white-hot and magnificent. I don’t want to wallow, I don’t want to fight. I just want you. I want us. Please, don’t… don’t go. We should be able to talk about this. You and I should be able to get through this. Please.”
“ … look, darling, I’m not walking away to manipulate you, or even leave the TARDIS.”
The Master, iconic terror of the cosmos, could not look more like a kicked Basset Hound puppy if he tried.
“I believe you’re right. That’s why I was stepping out. The circling was giving me vertigo. And I suppose I feel … rather … a nuisance. When we’re about to have angry sex and you bellow in my face that you’re ‘never enough.’ I know that I’m greedy and insecure.”
I know I make things hard. I’m trying, though; I’m learning.
“I’m sorry that it feels like I’m doubting you.”
That bright star is dimmed and wilting, chided by the one being who can control it. But he sits, obliging the Doctor’s request.
The Doctor, who had tried to approach with a softness and understanding, feels the Master’s intensity and insistence that he is still hiding, still running after all this time. A soft growl of frustration rumbles in his chest and his grip tightens on the Master’s upper arms.
He is not gentle, and a fire burns in his eyes, dangerous and white hot. If he wants to be greedy, if he wants every ounce of the Doctor, then so be it.
“Why must I ALWAYS be hiding from you? Why must I be running? When I’m right here and telling you that together, we are unique and magnificent and beautiful!”
The Doctor’s hands came up to the Master’s cheeks and held him close, forehead pressed hard against his best friends. They slip up into his salt and pepper hair and pull on those strands, tugging his head back as he places violent, hungry kisses to his jaw.
“The only thing I am ashamed of is MYSELF! The only thing that embarrases me is the fact that I failed you so horribly for so long! Losing you was the biggest regret of all my lives! I’d die a thousand times in the most horrible ways imagined if only I could go back and keep you by my side throughout it all. Koschei– MY Koschei. I am not running from you, I’m running TO you.”
He pulled back, chest heaving, his expression a mask of guilt and intense pain.
“Please, just see that. See that this is all I want. That I’m TRYING. For you, for us…”
“You’re the only one who can answer THAT question, TOO!” the Master roars.
Exasperation turns swiftly to fury as the Doctor seizes him bodily, and both aggravates and satisfies his yearning. There it is, that tornado of dangerous, beautiful passion, there it is: his groin hardens and throbs because this is the god at whose altar he worships, this is HIS Doctor, ALL sides of him, completely succumbing to his possession. This is the god, and yet, in the SAME BREATH, his sweet, ordinary, dreaming boy, whom he would protect with his BARE TEETH.
The pain of that grasp on his arms only arouses him further; he gasps at the kisses, the bites, that mark his skin, tears spilling from flushed cheeks, catches the Doctor’s mouth hard and suckles on it until there are marks.
He tackles him and throws his weight on top of him, forces his arms apart and kisses him harder, watering the Doctor’s face with the moisture from his eyes.
“BUT I AM NOT ASHAMED OF YOU. You are, to ME, the most beautiful fucked up thing that was ever loomed! You don’t NEED to refine yourself into something more perfect, you only need STAY. Not only in body, but in mind, in hearts. Just LOOK AT ME, look at me, I am WANTON with love of you! This ‘trying’: it need only be DAILY, CONSISTENT PRESENCE. You are my perfect, wounded boy. I would die, I would kill, and I would most certainly live, for the boy who is already right here beside me.”
His body presses against the Master’s and discovers he’s hard, of all things, and that both infuriates and arouses him even more. They kiss, and it’s hard and bruising; the Doctor knows he’ll bear the marks for days.
“YOU’RE the one who keeps insisting I’m running! YOU’RE the one who says I’m keeping something back!!”
The Doctor bellows, pushing Koschei hard back against the sofa.
“Am I not ENOUGH as I am? I’m giving you my ALL, Koschei, I am HERE, and it’s still not ENOUGH!!”
“WHEN WILL I BE ENOUGH!?”
The Doctor is thrown backwards almost hard enough to knock the wind out of him, and in that moment, the Master pins him, kisses him, and as his tears fall on to the Doctor’s face, they mix with his own.
But he breaks his wrists free of the Master’s grasp and grabs him by the hair again, pressing their bodies together and grinding up against him so he can feel that Theta, too, is hard and aching with desperate need. His nails draw sharply down the Master’s back, and then he falls slack, staring up at his frenzied, ardent lover. The could continue this wild, animalistic game, but to what end?
“You say all you need is me, by your side, consistent and present and here… I’m not trying to… sterilize myself for you, condense myself into a more palatable version. I’m trying to forgive myself, to forgive you, so we might have a future together. I’m trying to learn how to love again… I’ve been here, ever since you and I found each other, mind and body and soul, and you still say I’m hiding something. I don’t know what else to do, Koschei. I’ve confessed my darkest sins, let you help me bear the weight of my own guilt… and you still say I’m running.
All I want in this damned universe is you.
I’m not gonna run away again, I’m not gonna let anything tear you out of my arms. Don’t you believe that?”
Don’t you believe in me?
“I love you. Koschei, I love you so much.”
Whatever was ignited is snuffed instantly.
“You ARE enough for me. I just TOLD you that. You were enough for me BEFORE you tried to forgive yourself. I believe you are enough, and I’ve said so repeatedly. You’re punishing me for your own insecurity. It’s easier to wallow. Believe me, I know.”
The Master struggles out from under the Doctor. He stands, smooths his clothes, smooths his hair, smooths his emotions.
“I’m sorry … . that I believed you were trying to present only your best self to me. Trust is difficult. I didn’t mean to be …”
Tiresome. Exasperating. Needy.
“ … high-maintenance.”
Why can’t you shut up and lie in wait, and scheme coldly, and hide your hearts, the way he could, when he mobilized the Autons? The way she could, when she played House in the Vault?
Why are you the worst, most pathetic version of yourself you’ve ever been? A loud-mouthed, vulnerable child?
Euthanize yourself and do your loved one a favor, why don’t you.
“I think it would be best for us both if I got some air.”
The Doctor, who had tried to approach with a softness and understanding, feels the Master’s intensity and insistence that he is still hiding, still running after all this time. A soft growl of frustration rumbles in his chest and his grip tightens on the Master’s upper arms.
He is not gentle, and a fire burns in his eyes, dangerous and white hot. If he wants to be greedy, if he wants every ounce of the Doctor, then so be it.
“Why must I ALWAYS be hiding from you? Why must I be running? When I’m right here and telling you that together, we are unique and magnificent and beautiful!”
The Doctor’s hands came up to the Master’s cheeks and held him close, forehead pressed hard against his best friends. They slip up into his salt and pepper hair and pull on those strands, tugging his head back as he places violent, hungry kisses to his jaw.
“The only thing I am ashamed of is MYSELF! The only thing that embarrases me is the fact that I failed you so horribly for so long! Losing you was the biggest regret of all my lives! I’d die a thousand times in the most horrible ways imagined if only I could go back and keep you by my side throughout it all. Koschei– MY Koschei. I am not running from you, I’m running TO you.”
He pulled back, chest heaving, his expression a mask of guilt and intense pain.
“Please, just see that. See that this is all I want. That I’m TRYING. For you, for us…”
“You’re the only one who can answer THAT question, TOO!” the Master roars.
Exasperation turns swiftly to fury as the Doctor seizes him bodily, and both aggravates and satisfies his yearning. There it is, that tornado of dangerous, beautiful passion, there it is: his groin hardens and throbs because this is the god at whose altar he worships, this is HIS Doctor, ALL sides of him, completely succumbing to his possession. This is the god, and yet, in the SAME BREATH, his sweet, ordinary, dreaming boy, whom he would protect with his BARE TEETH.
The pain of that grasp on his arms only arouses him further; he gasps at the kisses, the bites, that mark his skin, tears spilling from flushed cheeks, catches the Doctor’s mouth hard and suckles on it until there are marks.
He tackles him and throws his weight on top of him, forces his arms apart and kisses him harder, watering the Doctor’s face with the moisture from his eyes.
“BUT I AM NOT ASHAMED OF YOU. You are, to ME, the most beautiful fucked up thing that was ever loomed! You don’t NEED to refine yourself into something more perfect, you only need STAY. Not only in body, but in mind, in hearts. Just LOOK AT ME, look at me, I am WANTON with love of you! This ‘trying’: it need only be DAILY, CONSISTENT PRESENCE. You are my perfect, wounded boy. I would die, I would kill, and I would most certainly live, for the boy who is already right here beside me.”
He’s reading Antoine de Saint-Exupery, with what ostensibly appears to be detached curiosity. But when he reads the passage aloud, his voice is trembling.
“ ‘You become responsible forever for what you have tamed.’ ”
Oh, Doctor …
“ ‘To me, you will be unique in all the world.’ “
The Doctor glances over at the Master with understanding and unexplained sadness in his gaze.
“Have we tamed each other, Koschei?”
“Every act great and small that I perform is connected to you. I have never regretted this. I would like to think that yes, we have. But you are the one who has to answer that question. Did you make a mistake? Was I a mistake? Is that why you left, once it was done … . once I decided you were my all? I don’t have companions to go to, Doctor. I don’t have groupies, friends and lovers, to divert me from my path.
I just have you. And I only want you. Every you, always.”
“The only mistake I ever made was leaving you behind in the first place.”
He reaches out and pulls the book out of the Master’s hands, instead taking them into his own.
“Please believe that. If I could go back… If I could do it over again, that is the only thing I would change. But in the end, every act, every decision has led us here, and HERE is where I want to be. You were and are the greatest love I have ever had. You are my everything, and as far as I am concerned, you always will be.”
“We have tamed each other, hearts. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I can TELL when you’re holding back.”
He’s a monster, oh, he really is. So greedy, greedy for every inch and every ounce of the Doctor, every memory, every feeling, pleasant and awful, every moment of attention and energy, because that is what he has offered in reverse.
“There are things you won’t tell me about the past. Is it because you think I’ll hate you? That I’ll be disappointed? I KNOW about Torvic! We have ALREADY triumphed over that highest of hurdles! What won’t you say, my love? Are you … are you ashamed? Embarrassed? There is literally nothing you could do or say to LOSE me … except this infernal running.”
Icarus 