Fic: The Domestic Disputes of Time Lords
Of all the DW fic I'm currently working on, I bring you this short stupidity first.
Word Count: 737
Ten/Simm!Master (mentions of Master/Lucy). "Last of the Time Lords" AU (*tries to convince self that LotTL fix-its favoring my pairing is in no way like what Rose-fen did after "Doomsday"*)
Rated R for swearing and not-quite-pr0ny perviness. WARNING: Very bad puns within
The Domestic Disputes of Time Lords
He just wouldn't shut up about her. If only she was here. She could do it better.
"Will you shut the hell up about bloody Lucy!"
"Well she could do it better. You're terribly out of practice. Though I'm surprised since you had the handsome Captain on board. At the same time I'm comforted knowing you're not so perverse you'd be initimate with that...abomination."
"Look, are you just going to sit there and whine, or do you want me to suck you off?"
"No reason why both can't happen."
And if comparing technique wasn't bad enough, there were other evidences of the Master and his wife having used the TARDIS.
"Whatever this is on the console, it better not be what I think it is."
The Master popped a jelly baby in his mouth. "Oh, it is."
"You...you're...ON THE CONSOLE?"
"What, you've never done?"
"NO! I'd imagine it'd be highly uncomfortable, all these fiddly bits poking you."
"Actually, that just made her like it more."
"Agh! TMI, like the kids say these days. Just, stop talking to me and clean it up...not with your tongue!"
* * *
He moved on from early 21st century music to 1980s. He seemed to have collected a bunch of music he claimed either was "are all about me" or "so your song, Doctor" or "describes our relationship to a tee."
He danced about the control room, his hand curled around a pretend microphone. "This tainted love you've given, I give you all a boy could give you." He pressed himself up against the Doctor and belted out, "Take my tears and that's not nearly all! Oh...!"
The Doctor clamped a hand over his mouth. "If you ruin one more song for me, I'll gag you."
The Master grinned. "Promise?"
"Also, I'm rationing your jelly babies. Too many sweets and you get hyperactive."
The Master was bouncing on his toes. "Oh...but you like me hyperactive. All this energy needing to be burned." He said the last word in a breathy voice from the back of his throat. The Doctor gripped the edge of the console trying to control his body's reactions.
"Oooh, I see at least somebody knows that sound of his Master's voice and obeys."
Shit.
The Master gripped the Doctor through his trousers, causing his hips to jerk. The Doctor struggled for breath as the Master undid the zip and rubbed the palm of his hand up and down. "It's about the...ah...only thing that does. mmm...you always were a cock, Master."
* * *
"Well, first thing, you'll have to get an occupation."
"What, like ocuppy France?"
"No, as in a job."
"Why do I have to get a job?"
"Because that's how it worked last time. When Martha and I were stuck in one time period, she got a job."
"Oh yes, I can just imagine, Miss Jones working her hands raw and bleeding at some minimum wage job to support her dead beat live-in boyfriend."
"I wasn't dead beat! I had to keep the flat clean...welll, best as I could since I was working on gadgets that I'd need to...why have your eyes glazed over like that?"
"I'm sorry, I was thinking about Miss Jones with bloodied hands."
The Doctor sighed. "Gallifrey's Legacy: a couple of insane perverts."
"Hey! At least I married my human woman, unlike you who forces them in to living in sin!"
"Oh, yes, my unmarried women! How sinful. Oh, the Master just committed genocide, but at least he married that woman he can't keep his dick off."
"Jealousy is so ugly on you, Doctor."
"I think we lost track of the issue at hand."
"No we haven't: you're a lazy bastard."
"I mean about being stuck here and needing a way to blend in and make our way in the world...or at least Manchester, until we can get the TARDIS back."
"I'm not working in a shop."
The Doctor mussed his hair in thought. "No...I think something that'll go along with your rehabilitation, a sort of public service." The Doctor stared around, trying to get an idea from thin air.
The Master waited and looked at his nails, disgusted to find that one was chipped.
"You could make a decent cop."
"Oh, the best! I'd abuse my power and never say 'no' to a bribe from the right kind of shady businessman."
"Well, seeing that it's 1973, yeah you'd fit in perfectly."
Word Count: 737
Ten/Simm!Master (mentions of Master/Lucy). "Last of the Time Lords" AU (*tries to convince self that LotTL fix-its favoring my pairing is in no way like what Rose-fen did after "Doomsday"*)
Rated R for swearing and not-quite-pr0ny perviness. WARNING: Very bad puns within
The Domestic Disputes of Time Lords
He just wouldn't shut up about her. If only she was here. She could do it better.
"Will you shut the hell up about bloody Lucy!"
"Well she could do it better. You're terribly out of practice. Though I'm surprised since you had the handsome Captain on board. At the same time I'm comforted knowing you're not so perverse you'd be initimate with that...abomination."
"Look, are you just going to sit there and whine, or do you want me to suck you off?"
"No reason why both can't happen."
And if comparing technique wasn't bad enough, there were other evidences of the Master and his wife having used the TARDIS.
"Whatever this is on the console, it better not be what I think it is."
The Master popped a jelly baby in his mouth. "Oh, it is."
"You...you're...ON THE CONSOLE?"
"What, you've never done?"
"NO! I'd imagine it'd be highly uncomfortable, all these fiddly bits poking you."
"Actually, that just made her like it more."
"Agh! TMI, like the kids say these days. Just, stop talking to me and clean it up...not with your tongue!"
* * *
He moved on from early 21st century music to 1980s. He seemed to have collected a bunch of music he claimed either was "are all about me" or "so your song, Doctor" or "describes our relationship to a tee."
He danced about the control room, his hand curled around a pretend microphone. "This tainted love you've given, I give you all a boy could give you." He pressed himself up against the Doctor and belted out, "Take my tears and that's not nearly all! Oh...!"
The Doctor clamped a hand over his mouth. "If you ruin one more song for me, I'll gag you."
The Master grinned. "Promise?"
"Also, I'm rationing your jelly babies. Too many sweets and you get hyperactive."
The Master was bouncing on his toes. "Oh...but you like me hyperactive. All this energy needing to be burned." He said the last word in a breathy voice from the back of his throat. The Doctor gripped the edge of the console trying to control his body's reactions.
"Oooh, I see at least somebody knows that sound of his Master's voice and obeys."
Shit.
The Master gripped the Doctor through his trousers, causing his hips to jerk. The Doctor struggled for breath as the Master undid the zip and rubbed the palm of his hand up and down. "It's about the...ah...only thing that does. mmm...you always were a cock, Master."
* * *
"Well, first thing, you'll have to get an occupation."
"What, like ocuppy France?"
"No, as in a job."
"Why do I have to get a job?"
"Because that's how it worked last time. When Martha and I were stuck in one time period, she got a job."
"Oh yes, I can just imagine, Miss Jones working her hands raw and bleeding at some minimum wage job to support her dead beat live-in boyfriend."
"I wasn't dead beat! I had to keep the flat clean...welll, best as I could since I was working on gadgets that I'd need to...why have your eyes glazed over like that?"
"I'm sorry, I was thinking about Miss Jones with bloodied hands."
The Doctor sighed. "Gallifrey's Legacy: a couple of insane perverts."
"Hey! At least I married my human woman, unlike you who forces them in to living in sin!"
"Oh, yes, my unmarried women! How sinful. Oh, the Master just committed genocide, but at least he married that woman he can't keep his dick off."
"Jealousy is so ugly on you, Doctor."
"I think we lost track of the issue at hand."
"No we haven't: you're a lazy bastard."
"I mean about being stuck here and needing a way to blend in and make our way in the world...or at least Manchester, until we can get the TARDIS back."
"I'm not working in a shop."
The Doctor mussed his hair in thought. "No...I think something that'll go along with your rehabilitation, a sort of public service." The Doctor stared around, trying to get an idea from thin air.
The Master waited and looked at his nails, disgusted to find that one was chipped.
"You could make a decent cop."
"Oh, the best! I'd abuse my power and never say 'no' to a bribe from the right kind of shady businessman."
"Well, seeing that it's 1973, yeah you'd fit in perfectly."