Solace (Ten/Simm!Master, NC-18)
Title: Solace
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Ten!Doctor/Simm!Master
Rating: NC-18
WordCount: 930
Warnings: dub-con
Written for sound_of_drums: Prompt table 6, number 15
Solace
The conference room was darkened for ship’s night. Before he and Lucy retired to their suite, the Master used his laser screwdriver to turn the Doctor young again. It had been a good day for his mad friend and he was feeling merciful. “Get yourself a good night’s rest,” he’d said. Even on the mat of grass in his tent, it had been easy to fall asleep. His body no longer felt the discomfort or pain of being unnaturally aged.
He woke suddenly. Still night. Had he heard something? He listened but all he heard was the low hum of the ship. Not heard then. Scented. He drew a deep breath in through his nostrils.
“Master?” he asked, crawling out of the tent. The Master was leaning against the wall near the door, head bent down, buried in his hands.
“Doctor.” The Master’s voice sounded ragged. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
The Doctor went over to him. “Something wrong?”
“The drums, Doctor. So loud. Never stopping.” His fingers clutched at his head as if trying to rip out the sound only he could hear. “The drums.”
Despite everything, the Doctor couldn’t help feeling for his former friend and the only other Time Lord left in the universe. “I’m sorry.”
The Master raised his head. He was surprised to see tears down his face. There was a pleading desperation in his eyes. “Make them stop, Theta. Make them stop.”
At hearing the Master call him by the name he’d used so very long ago, the Doctor felt his own tears well. “I can’t. I don’t know how.”
“Yes you do.” The Master winced. “You always did. Do you want me to beg?”
“No, Koschei.” The Doctor leaned forward and kissed the Master’s lips. “No begging.”
The Doctor kissed him again, more thoroughly. His hands reached up and unknotted the Master’s tie, letting hit hang loose. With deft fingers he quickly unbuttoned the white shirt. The Master wrapped his arms around the Doctor’s waist, pulling him close, kissing him back. Lips parted, tongues entwined. The feel of their new bodies was strange, yet oh so familiar. The Doctor ran his hands along the Master’s chest, feeling the cool skin, listening to the twin heartbeats that told him over and over that he was not alone. The joy of that knowledge washed over him, despite all the chaos and destruction that his conscious mind knew went on below them.
They held each other tightly, each seeking their own kind of comfort. They kissed what seemed like forever. Their innate time sense mercifully suspended, and it was as if the intervening years had never happened.
Reaching down, the Doctor unfastened the Master’s trousers. He broke the kiss and began to trail his mouth along the line of the Master’s jaw, gently working his way down to his neck. He licked the hollows, kissed the ridges of his veins and collarbone.
The Master’s hands tangled through his unruly hair. A small moan escaped his lips. “Doctor,” the Master said breathlessly.
“Master.” The Doctor bent down, running his kisses over the Master’s chest. Pushing open the edge of his shirt, he licked gently at his nipple. He sucked and let his hand reach up to roll the other between his fingers. He bent farther and rested his hands on the Master’s hips. Kissing down the center line of his stomach, his tongue circled his navel, darting quickly in before moving his mouth lower. As he knelt to the floor, his hands pushed the Master’s trousers and pants down below his hips, freeing his hard cock from their confines. He heard the Master breathe sharply again.
The Doctor moistened his lips with his tongue. His hand took hold of the Master’s shaft and stroking, he eased back the foreskin. He kissed the head of his cock, lips slightly parted, holding there for a moment. Taking the head into his mouth, he swirled his tongue over the glans. The Master’s hand grasped the back of his head firmly, but not guiding, content to let the Doctor continue at his own pace. The Doctor’s mouth rose and fell on the Master’s cock. With each fall he took him deeper. With each rise his tongue swirled.
He listened to the pant of the Master’s breaths. He felt the quickening four-part pulse of his cock between his lips. He swallowed deeply, drawing the Master completely into his mouth. The Master’s breaths turned to moans as he thrust his hips forward. His hand held the Doctor there for just a beat or two before letting him move his head back to breathe. Before long, the Doctor felt the Master’s cock spasm and tasted the warm saltiness of his come filling his mouth.
“Quiet now?” the Doctor asked, resting his head against the Master’s hip.
“Umm-hmm,” the Master said, stroking the Doctor’s hair.
They stayed that way for a long time, just feeling each other’s nearness, the Doctor listening to the Master’s pulse, the Master listening to the quiet in his mind.
The Master’s hands reached down to his trousers, pulled them up and zipped his fly. The Doctor knelt back on his haunches. The Master bent forward slightly and ran his thumb lightly over the Doctor’s lips. And then the Master turned and walked out of the conference room. The Doctor sighed deeply. Things would never be the same between them, no matter how much either wished for it. Regret for all that had been lost played on his face. He made his way back to his tent to await the day.
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Ten!Doctor/Simm!Master
Rating: NC-18
WordCount: 930
Warnings: dub-con
Written for sound_of_drums: Prompt table 6, number 15
Solace
The conference room was darkened for ship’s night. Before he and Lucy retired to their suite, the Master used his laser screwdriver to turn the Doctor young again. It had been a good day for his mad friend and he was feeling merciful. “Get yourself a good night’s rest,” he’d said. Even on the mat of grass in his tent, it had been easy to fall asleep. His body no longer felt the discomfort or pain of being unnaturally aged.
He woke suddenly. Still night. Had he heard something? He listened but all he heard was the low hum of the ship. Not heard then. Scented. He drew a deep breath in through his nostrils.
“Master?” he asked, crawling out of the tent. The Master was leaning against the wall near the door, head bent down, buried in his hands.
“Doctor.” The Master’s voice sounded ragged. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
The Doctor went over to him. “Something wrong?”
“The drums, Doctor. So loud. Never stopping.” His fingers clutched at his head as if trying to rip out the sound only he could hear. “The drums.”
Despite everything, the Doctor couldn’t help feeling for his former friend and the only other Time Lord left in the universe. “I’m sorry.”
The Master raised his head. He was surprised to see tears down his face. There was a pleading desperation in his eyes. “Make them stop, Theta. Make them stop.”
At hearing the Master call him by the name he’d used so very long ago, the Doctor felt his own tears well. “I can’t. I don’t know how.”
“Yes you do.” The Master winced. “You always did. Do you want me to beg?”
“No, Koschei.” The Doctor leaned forward and kissed the Master’s lips. “No begging.”
The Doctor kissed him again, more thoroughly. His hands reached up and unknotted the Master’s tie, letting hit hang loose. With deft fingers he quickly unbuttoned the white shirt. The Master wrapped his arms around the Doctor’s waist, pulling him close, kissing him back. Lips parted, tongues entwined. The feel of their new bodies was strange, yet oh so familiar. The Doctor ran his hands along the Master’s chest, feeling the cool skin, listening to the twin heartbeats that told him over and over that he was not alone. The joy of that knowledge washed over him, despite all the chaos and destruction that his conscious mind knew went on below them.
They held each other tightly, each seeking their own kind of comfort. They kissed what seemed like forever. Their innate time sense mercifully suspended, and it was as if the intervening years had never happened.
Reaching down, the Doctor unfastened the Master’s trousers. He broke the kiss and began to trail his mouth along the line of the Master’s jaw, gently working his way down to his neck. He licked the hollows, kissed the ridges of his veins and collarbone.
The Master’s hands tangled through his unruly hair. A small moan escaped his lips. “Doctor,” the Master said breathlessly.
“Master.” The Doctor bent down, running his kisses over the Master’s chest. Pushing open the edge of his shirt, he licked gently at his nipple. He sucked and let his hand reach up to roll the other between his fingers. He bent farther and rested his hands on the Master’s hips. Kissing down the center line of his stomach, his tongue circled his navel, darting quickly in before moving his mouth lower. As he knelt to the floor, his hands pushed the Master’s trousers and pants down below his hips, freeing his hard cock from their confines. He heard the Master breathe sharply again.
The Doctor moistened his lips with his tongue. His hand took hold of the Master’s shaft and stroking, he eased back the foreskin. He kissed the head of his cock, lips slightly parted, holding there for a moment. Taking the head into his mouth, he swirled his tongue over the glans. The Master’s hand grasped the back of his head firmly, but not guiding, content to let the Doctor continue at his own pace. The Doctor’s mouth rose and fell on the Master’s cock. With each fall he took him deeper. With each rise his tongue swirled.
He listened to the pant of the Master’s breaths. He felt the quickening four-part pulse of his cock between his lips. He swallowed deeply, drawing the Master completely into his mouth. The Master’s breaths turned to moans as he thrust his hips forward. His hand held the Doctor there for just a beat or two before letting him move his head back to breathe. Before long, the Doctor felt the Master’s cock spasm and tasted the warm saltiness of his come filling his mouth.
“Quiet now?” the Doctor asked, resting his head against the Master’s hip.
“Umm-hmm,” the Master said, stroking the Doctor’s hair.
They stayed that way for a long time, just feeling each other’s nearness, the Doctor listening to the Master’s pulse, the Master listening to the quiet in his mind.
The Master’s hands reached down to his trousers, pulled them up and zipped his fly. The Doctor knelt back on his haunches. The Master bent forward slightly and ran his thumb lightly over the Doctor’s lips. And then the Master turned and walked out of the conference room. The Doctor sighed deeply. Things would never be the same between them, no matter how much either wished for it. Regret for all that had been lost played on his face. He made his way back to his tent to await the day.