for best_served_hot | At your side I feel like a ghost

[rude_not_ginger]

Follows this.

Hours had passed. Hours. The Valeyard was now sleeping. The two weeks that the Doctor had rested left him awake, energized. There was more than an hour in him, now, though he didn't know how long.

He reached to his side table and flipped a switch. Lights flickered around the ship, and a few of the cameras turned off. The damage done would leave the Valeyard angry, but it would keep the Doctor and the Master safe. For now. It wouldn't be long until the Valeyard worked it out, and the Doctor knew it.

So hard, sharing one body. The part of him that wanted to stay the Doctor remaining safe and secure in a small section of the tyrant's mind.

He got out of bed and slipped down the corridor, avoiding the cameras he knew were still on as he made it to the infirmary. No guards. They were switching out, now. He had a window of opportunity to make sure the Master was safe. He had to make sure. He had to see that the damage the Valeyard had done wouldn't be permanent.

He pulled open the door and stepped inside.

"Master."

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[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Master asserted dominance again, and the Doctor struggled back. This was how things were supposed to be, he thought. They were supposed to fight like this, they were supposed to be two who fought against each other. The Master with one wrist in his grip, the Doctor with the other. They were the Ouroboros, each swallowing the others' tail.

He kissed back with his own form of dominance, and let his tongue sweep across the Master's mouth, dueling in his own way. A burst of something hit the Doctor in the chest. The Valeyard wanted this. He wanted to connect to the Master, maybe even wanted him physically, but he couldn't have him. The Master and the Doctor were the only ones to fight each other so completely.

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There was a soft growl in the back of his throat, he knew what the Doctor was playing at, and if he didn't want this as much as he did, he might have waited; teased in his own way. As things were, the only time they had was in these few moments, however long they lasted. Soon, it wouldn't be the Master and the Doctor as they should have been.

They would once again have to contend with that thing, and each would be left to their own devices.

He opened up, only to thrust his tongue against the Doctor's, letting it slide against his with all the possessiveness he could pour into it from that action alone. He wanted to carve who owned the Doctor into his flesh. He wanted to burn it into the stars for the universe to see. He wished the Valeyard was separate, somehow, so that he could sear it into his mind just how wrong he was to think he could take this from him.

Before this was over, he would find a way. He would make it a lesson the Valeyard wouldn't forget for what short amount of time he still existed.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor couldn't move to make this go any farther, even if he wanted it to. To move one hand was to release the Master's, and the other was in the Master's grip. They were trapped in their own need to control the other. It was intoxicating and, in a way, extremely arousing. He let his hips move upwards and let out a groan against the Master's growl.

The Doctor was aroused. That was really inappropriate. Hell, considering what was happening with them, it probably wasn't even tasteful. But he wanted---he wanted to just feel. Maybe it was the human side of him. Maybe it was something else. It didn't matter.

"Master." He growled his name into the Master's mouth. The way the Doctor said the Master's name wasn't like the way the Valeyard said his name. There was anger and hatred and desire in there, all the things the Valeyard only thought he understood but didn't. The Master made the Doctor hungry for something. Something that was more than just physical. It was more than the Valeyard could understand.

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He swallowed the groan with an harder, more insistent kiss and slide of his tongue as it came from the Doctor. He responded in kind, pure instinct and desire as he pressed his hips down to meet his.

There was nothing appropriate about any part of their shared situation. A shudder went through his entire body at hearing his name come from the Doctor's lips, and he pulled back, eyeing him like a hungry wolf.

"Say it again."

He wanted to hear it again. His name and all the implications that came from it when the Doctor said it. He wanted everything it meant, and then more. This, here and now, was proof that perhaps even the universe would never be enough.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor should've fought back, he figured. He should've made the Master say his own name, but there was some amount of ego behind him, some knowledge that the Master would return the name in kind. That ego, that was something that he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

"Master." It came out again, this time his voice going just a little high-pitched as the Master's hips pressed against his own. He wanted something from the Master, he thought, as he captured his mouth again. He wasn't even sure if it was just a physical connection. They needed, no, no, he needed---

"Sir?" It was the voice of someone else. A guard, no doubt alerted by the sounds of fighting within the room.

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

That hungry gleam never left his eyes, and he gave a low chuckle. He pulled back momentarily, just enough to give him space to whisper himself.

"Doctor," he said, and allowed him to pull him into another kiss. Only to have it interrupted by one of the Valeyard's idiotic little pawns. He broke the contact, body still thrumming with desire and, now, anger. He tensed, his eyes narrowing on the intruder, a multitude of dark, agonizing things coming to mind as to what he could do to the man for walking in on this.

He couldn't be allowed to live. Too much was at stake.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The name shot pure desire down the Doctor's spine, and there was nothing more he wanted than to---

Oh, but the moment was suddenly broken, and the cold emotion that replaced the desire was fear. These were two of the Valeyard's loyal dogs. No matter what happened now, the Valeyard would know that he was here in the infirmary, kissing the Master. There was no way to deny what was happening.

And what if they heard the Master calling him 'Doctor'? There was no way they would---

He looked back at the Master. His initial reaction was to tell the Master no, not to do what the Doctor knew he would. But there was no choice. They had to be silenced.

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The Master shifted, relinquishing his hold on the Doctor's wrist, as he moved to get to his feet. He immediately felt the loss of the contact where their bodies had been touching, but he pushed it out of his mind. There would be time for more after he dealt with this.

Even with one arm broken and bound, he was still extremely dangerous. He took a step towards the guard.

"Well, isn't this a bit embarrassing," he said, stalking closer. "I thought I'd locked the door."

He moved before the Doctor could protest verbally, or the guard could call out for assistance, aiming to close the distance between them. He took hold of the man's throat with one hand, pushing him into the wall. He held him there, very calmly strangling the life out of him, and ignoring the thrashing and flailing limbs as he fought to get free.

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The Doctor slowly got to his feet. He didn't watch the Master strangling the life out of the guard. He didn't want to.

Roy Farne. He was a high-ranked guard for the Valeyard. They weren't close, but the Valeyard knew everything about him. If the Doctor concentrated, he could pull up memories from the Valeyard about Roy. Top of his class in physics. Allergic to nuts. Heterosexual. Enjoyed rugby. Non-smoker. Wanted to see the stars, at whatever cost. Harmless, until the Valeyard put a gun in his hands.

The Doctor could hear it as Roy Farne stopped struggling against the Master's grip. Could hear that final hiss as whatever air was left in his lungs was released. He could not feel remorse.

More footsteps, and another guard stepped inside.

"No!" the Doctor called out immediately. "Don't---not that one!"

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The Master dropped the dead guard's body just as the other entered the room. He didn't care about any of these men, they were less than nothing to him, and right now, in that precise moment, they were taking something that belonged to him.

This was simply what they deserved for walking into the wrong room at the wrong time.

He pushed the other against the same wall, grip tight on his throat so he wouldn't be able to call out, and shot a glare in the Doctor's direction. "What precisely do you suggest I do then? Ask him nicely not to mention any of this?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor felt nothing but pity for this guard. Ian Amerson. 22. New to the guard, assigned with Roy because he was 'so very good' in the Valeyard's opinion. Left handed. Smoker. Liked cheesecake and bad telly. The Valeyard knew all of this but knew nothing about them.

"Roy attacked me," the Doctor said, wiping the blood off of his lip. "And Ian had to stop him. Strangled the life out of him. Was so stunned by that that he fainted for a number of hours."

He nodded to the Master. "I know you can make him believe that, I've seen you do more intense memory replacement. He'll detect it if it's mine. He won't think to look for it if it's yours."

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The Master considered this a long moment, and then nodded.

"You'll have to hold him."

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The Doctor nodded, then stepped around the Master to take Ian's arms. He reached out and shut the door, locking it before he gripped him.

"Ready."

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Once he was certain that the Doctor had the young guard in his grip, he let go from where he held his throat, and uttered a single word to start, as his eyes bored into his.

"Quiet."

He reached up then, placing a his uninjured hand along the side of the guard's face, making contact easily. He wouldn't usually be careful with this sort of thing, but in this case he had to make an exception. Nothing had to give off red flags if the Valeyard went looking later, and he was certain he would. Carefully, he began to remove and rework the events that took place. As he began the process of altering the guard's memories, he took a moment to go deeper into his mind, seeking out any information about the room the Doctor had mentioned to him some weeks previous. It was surprisingly easy to locate, and once he found it, he memorized the passcodes that would grant him access.

His eyes closed as he focused, implanting the false memories with ease. Once that was finished, he suggested that he sleep, and broke contact.

The guard slumped in the Doctor's grip.

"Done."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor carefully laid the boy back down to the ground. He double checked the boy's pulse. Slow and even. Good, the Master was thorough. He imagined the boy would be asleep a long while. His eyes flicked over to Roy. He held nothing but contempt for Roy's actions, but he wished---there had to have been another way, he thought. But it was too late, now. No way to go back and change things. If there were, the Doctor would've done it a long, long time ago.

"How long've we got?" he asked, getting back to his feet. "Before he wakes up?"

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"A couple of hours," he said, indifferent to the boy sleeping off his machinations on the ground, and the dead body mere feet away from him.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Good." The Doctor didn't have quite so long, he figured. But it would be long enough.

He looked over to the Master. Part of him wanted to resume the fight, to shove him up against the wall and snog him within an inch of his life. Part of him knew that moment had passed, and it was uncertain if there would ever be another.

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Perhaps it had passed for the Doctor, the Master had no intention of being deterred so easily. The doors were locked, they wouldn't be interrupted for a time.

He stepped over the boy on the floor, and pushed the Doctor against the wall, pulling his head down for a demanding kiss. They still had time and he intended to make use of all of it.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Well, there went the uncertainty. Suddenly, the Master had pushed him against the wall and was pressing his mouth against his, harshly. The Doctor struggled against the wall, struggling to push the Master back, then turn him against the wall as he returned the kiss fiercely.

This was something the Valeyard would've loved. The dead at their feet, the struggle in this---whatever it was---it was something he wanted. He couldn't have it. Maybe that was why the Master wanted it. It was something he could keep from the Valeyard.

The Doctor approved.

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He went back, only because one of the Doctor's hands found his injured arm again, and he lost his concentration. He gave a grunt at the slight amount of pain, and then his back hitting the wall. It didn't grant the Doctor any control, not in the Master's mind, only the semblance of it.

He moved his hand to the back of his neck to keep their lips pressed together. He wanted the Doctor, everything that the Valeyard threatened to take from him. For a brief moment, a memory came to him in sharp clarity, of soft, breathless laughs and even softer lips of boys exploring all the things they knew they weren't supposed to.

The Master broke the kiss momentarily, fingers idly brushing over the back of the Doctor's neck as he took in the way he looked in this moment, and tucked the memory away safely. Once he might have banished the memory without a second thought, but this time, he kept it. This was just like those times when they were much younger, and different children.

But it was stolen, in quiet, dark moments, just as this was now.

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It couldn't last. They only had precious stolen time now. Time borrowed from other time and only the limited time until the Valeyard worked out who was causing all of his trouble.

The Master's fingertips found the back of the Doctor's neck and he took in a sharp breath as sensation shot down his spine. It was a sensitive area for any Gallifreyan, and the Doctor was no exception. He looked down at the Master with a small, private smile that really was only witnessed by him in the past. They knew each other so very well. Even in this, they knew each other.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips across the Master's, ghosting them as he brought his own hand up to the back of the Master's neck, seeking out areas on his skin he hadn't thought of in centuries.

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He grinned wolfishly at the reaction it pulled from the Doctor. It was his, all of this, it only belong to him.

He didn't press forward, to urge more into the brushing of their lips, and remained content with the soft slide. The touch, while it shouldn't have been unexpected, threw him momentarily. Even when he'd been with Lucy, there were some things about him that he did not allow her to know, and this was one of them. He liked to be in control, and the Doctor's touch, there, left him feeling light-headed and out of sorts at the rush of pleasure that shot through his entire body.

His breath stuttered out in almost a gasp against the Doctor's lips.

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The Doctor loved watching that, watching the Master slowly uncoil from himself and become undone. The Doctor should've been focusing on, well, the unconscious and dead men in the room, or the fact that they were in incredible danger, or the fact that there was a thing inside of him that was just waiting to come out and take over. Instead, he focused on moving his fingers across the Master's neck.

He traced out long-dead words across his skin, watching totally enraptured at whatever responses they invoked. He watched like a dying man might watch the last of his water soak into hot sand. In theory, it was a very similar situation.

"Master." He said the word differently this time. It was still the Doctor, there was still so much more to the name than just the name itself, but now there was a sense of quiet intimacy there. Almost questioning.

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A tiny bit of the Master's awareness was focused on their surroundings, but most of it was on the Doctor. His fingers traced answering words, or perhaps the closest approximation over the Doctor's skin, even as another shudder was pulled from the Master.

His eyes were dark with desire, and he wanted so much more than the time they had would allow. He could still read the Doctor as if nothing had ever changed between them. As if they didn't have centuries of bad blood and enmity muddying the proverbial waters.

"Doctor." His tone remained quiet, undemanding for the time being. Content. It was an odd feeling, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt anything close to it in, well, a very long time.

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The Doctor's lips curled into a small smile.

"I like it when you say my name."