There’s a pregnant pause during which the Master clearly struggles to collect the shards of his temper.
“You know. Ordinarily. I’d be … unkindly weaponizing your flaws, to turn the focus of the conversation away from my own weaknesses … and … hurting you in order to rebuff your kindness. But.”
“There is someone I want to make … proud of me. So. I’ll just. Quietly ask you to go.”
The Master tries somewhat desperately to suppress a smile that seems to radiate from the heels of his feet all the way to the tips of his hair follicles. He can do nothing about the ruddiness of his cheeks.
“Tremendously true, but to whom do I credit this compliment? Show yourself.”
Smiling almost sheepishly he walks steadily closer and pulls Koschei close for a fond embrace. His eyes close briefly as he just enjoys the familiar feel and scent of the one he loves.
“I miss you too..”
His voice is a soft almost inaudible whisper as the words fall freely.
Koschei chuckles and nips his Theta on the ear.
“Are you smelling me?” he murmurs, needling him as ever, but oh, these days, it’s always with such an affectionate glow.
His own rumbling chuckle was partly an answer in of itself. The nip made him shiver, a quiet enjoyment of the familiar behavior he had missed so dearly.
“Yup. I missed all of you.”
Tucking his face against Koschei’s neck in an over exaggerated response he playfully nips there in retaliation for his ear.
Koschei growls appreciatively. He smacks the Doctor on the chest, and then the arm, and writhes in his arms.
“Stop.”
It’s a command, cheeks aflame, and always the indicator that his affection for his oldest friend is real: the shyness of his boyhood, buried under so many layers of narcissistic tyranny, comes out full force.
“Tremendously true, but to whom do I credit this compliment? Show yourself.”
“Nah..I’ll just stay in the shadows and continue to shower you with compliments.”
“You’re such a shit. Get back here. I miss you.”
His voice is a mixture of petulance and smug satisfaction.
Smiling almost sheepishly he walks steadily closer and pulls Koschei close for a fond embrace. His eyes close briefly as he just enjoys the familiar feel and scent of the one he loves.
“I miss you too..”
His voice is a soft almost inaudible whisper as the words fall freely.
Koschei chuckles and nips his Theta on the ear.
“Are you smelling me?” he murmurs, needling him as ever, but oh, these days, it’s always with such an affectionate glow.
send 💁 for our muses to be stuck in a small space together
They’re a pair of idiots. Idiot old men, too stubborn to cede each other exit from the TARDIS ceiling through the small hole the asteroid made–the asteroid that is the result of the Doctor’s poor driving, mind–so, in trying to crawl out the top simultaneously, they’ve gotten stuck. Arms free, but chest to chest, belly to belly, groin to groin.
The Master’s first impulse is to be furious.
But in mere seconds, the whole foolish situation has him laughing. At first, a delicious scrumptious little chuckle, and then a big bawdy cackle. As the laugh dies down into a hungry growl, he wiggles around, applying suggestive pressure to his lover’s crotch.
He wiggles his eyebrows at the Doctor, leering close,
“I know what you like, you slut,” he teases, and cackles again. “Let’s give the people who rescue us something to talk about …”
He ruffles the Doctor’s hair into helpless disarray.
“Well it had better be an improvement on last week’s bergamot. And I swear, I love chai, but really, it’s just black tea flung into a thousand and one Indian spices, like a golden retriever rolled about on a lawn full of cardamom. Let’s hope it’s something GOOD, Riley, dear, or I get to choose next time.”
Koschei clasps Jack by the face, a palm on each cheek, and chuckles at his perpetual clean-shavenness.
“Lemme just remind you, I’ve seen our ‘end,’ if end is the right word for it, and I know we are eternal, you and me.”
The word means so much more to his husband, and he knows it, and he applies it to the pressure point with the accuracy of aim that can be either devastating or infinitely comforting. It’s his particular talent.
The Master chuckles, and it’s the sound of settling floorboards; it’s the sound of home.
“I dunno where you get such an idea, but in order to maintain my reputation for unchecked narcissism, I’ll agree.”
“Oh trust me, you’ll learn to never get bored of that narcissism. It’s really great and lovely~”
Missy smiled and played with his hair a little. “And please, don’t start questioning where I get my ideas, first because you know it and second because they come from a scary place in my mind~” she chuckled.
“Hhhhyeah, okay, granted.”
The expression on the Master’s face, as Missy touches his hair, is wistful; he can almost hear the soft siren’s hymn of her mind cloying him into false security. She is deadly and beautiful and he will always look to her with admiration and regret.
Icarus 