Koschei looks up from his favorite lounging spot, naked, on Jack’s chest, leeching his warmth like a cat does a spot of sun, and the dictionary definition of smug.
“Flattery may get you everywhere but don’t expect me to want to move anywhere anytime soon, regardless.”
Jack laughs, hard enough to shuffle his husband. “Actually, I’m more concerned about the Time Lord-shaped tan line, but hey, as long as you’re comfortable, right?”
“Well alright, you bounder, turn over onto your stomach and I’ll make sure both sides match.”
“I’ll tell you a secret: the Doctor isn’t interested in you unless you need them. And I don’t mean need them to carry your parcels or give you driving directions. I mean need them in a deep, aching, existential way. I mean you’re looking for a savior. They can’t resist. Not one. Single. Time.”
“You know, sometimes, I think that’s why they left me behind on that game station. Figured I’d be fine in the end, I’d figure a way out of there one way or another. I mean, sure, he was regenerating, I get that. But then nothing after that? Yeah, I was never gonna need them. Not like I need you.”
He’d be marinating in bitterness, save for the way Jack chose to conclude. As is, Koschei can’t help but exude warm affection. He reaches out to caress Jack’s ever-soft cheek, familiar and gentle.
“Yeah,” is all he says: happy to confirm to whom he belongs.
“Oh dear. Oh golly. Never has such a beautiful, handsome being, charismatic and refined, fierce and brilliant, approached me. I shall positively melt through the floor.”
Other people: YOU CAN’T LET THE DOCTOR BE SILLY!!!!!!!! THE DOCTOR IS A TORMENTED FALLEN INTERGALACTIC ANGEL, WHO CANNOT BEAR THE WEIGHT OF THEIR GHOSTS!!!!!!!!
Icarus 