Fingerpaintings of the Insane

von_gelmini — Mon, 17 Jun 2013 08:28:03 GMT

this account is not ead

eta: not dead even

Love Letters -- Weekend at Berni's, or the Art of Bound Hands -- Chapter Five

von_gelmini — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 15:47:30 GMT

Title: Weekend at Berni’s, or the Art of Bound Hands
Chapter: 5/14?
Series | Arc: Love Letters | Outsiders
Age | Sequence: 26 | 1
Author: von_gelmini & witchway
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Theta/Koschei, OCs
Rating: NC-17 overall
Word Count: This section: 1977 Total so far: 10002
Contains: Graphic sex, mild bondage overall
Disclaimer: We do not own Doctor Who. We are not writing this for profit.

It's Friday. That means it's time for another chapter of Weekend at Berni's, the Outsider Arc of Love Letters. In chapter five, Theta gives himself to Koschei in the Outsider ritual of dwylo clymu.

Follow the fake cut to chapter 5

Love Letters -- Weekend at Berni's, or the Art of Bound Hands -- Chapter Four

von_gelmini — Tue, 02 Aug 2011 19:05:19 GMT

Title: Weekend at Berni’s, or the Art of Bound Hands
Chapter: 4/14?
Series | Arc: Love Letters | Outsiders
Age | Sequence: 26 | 1
Author: von_gelmini & witchway
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Theta/Koschei, OCs
Rating: NC-17 overall
Word Count: This section: 2050 Total so far: 8025
Contains: Graphic sex, mild bondage
Disclaimer: We do not own Doctor Who. We are not writing this for profit.

Follow the fake cut to chapter 4

Love Letters -- Weekend at Berni's, or the Art of Bound Hands -- Chapter Three

von_gelmini — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 14:50:51 GMT

It's Tuesday. That means it's time for another chapter of Weekend at Berni's, the Outsider Arc of Love Letters. In chapter three, Ving-Rel teaches Theta and Koschei an interesting practice of the Outsiders.

Follow the fake cut to Chapter Three...

Love Letters -- Weekend at Berni's, or the Art of Bound Hands -- Chapter Two

von_gelmini — Fri, 22 Jul 2011 15:07:45 GMT

It's Friday. That means it's time for another chapter of Weekend at Berni's, the Outsider Arc of Love Letters. In chapter two, Theta and Koschei arrive at the Outsider encampment.

Follow the fake cut to Chapter Two...

Love Letters -- Weekend at Berni's, or the Art of Bound Hands -- Chapter One

von_gelmini — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 00:38:49 GMT

Finally!!! It's here!!!

The huge project that witchway and I have been working on is ready to start posting. After a long break in which I didn't update Love Letters much at all, now we'll be posting twice a week, Tuesdays and Fridays. This starts a huge adventure for Theta and Koschei in which their view of the world and their relationship will undergo changes. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as we've enjoyed writing it, and let us know what you think.

Follow the fake cut to Chapter One of Weekend at Berni's...

Don't Move (Love Letters, T/K, poetry)

von_gelmini — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 04:32:17 GMT

Title: Don't Move
Series | Arc: Love Letters | none
Age | Sequence: any | any
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Doctor/Master, Theta/Koschei
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 93

Don't Move

Keep still.
Arms up. Hold
On tight. Don't
Move, don't move.
Lie there and let me
Touch you, please
You. Scream,
Cry, moan, beg. Call
My name. Strangled
In your throat, caught
On your lips. Do not
Move. Tight under
My hands. Steady
Breaths focused. Strain
For me. Yearn for
Me. Desperate. Endless need.
Silently panting hard.
Breathe Theta. Yes.
Beautiful Theta. Don't
Move Theta. Soon.
Don't move. Don't
Move. Now, love. Come
For me. Don't
Be afraid to fall
Apart my little Theete.

You will always come together again in my arms.

The Little Chain Around His Neck (RPF, John Simm/"You", NC-17)

von_gelmini — Wed, 11 May 2011 07:36:17 GMT

Title: The Little Chain Around His Neck
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: RPF
Prompt: Photodrabble
Characters: John Simm/"You" (unspecified 2nd person of unspecified gender)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1605
Warnings: RPF – don’t like, don’t read.

Prompt Photo

The Little Chain Around His Neck

You come up behind him and start kissing and nibbling on the back of his neck, starting around that chain he always wears, picking it up with your tongue and licking beneath it. You slowly work your way until you're behind his ear and start sucking on his earlobe. He leans his head back toward you and gasps from the sensation of it.

With his head back, you reach up and circle your hand around his throat -- not squeezing, just holding firm.

You walk around to the front of him, sliding your hand around to the back of his neck. You pull him down so you can kiss him.

And that is the end of you being in charge because he reaches up and grabs a handful of your hair, bending you back as he deepens the kiss, claiming your mouth. He nips at your bottom lip and despite the hurt you can't help moan. He licks the tender spot with his tongue.

"Tease," he whispers into your mouth. "That can get you in trouble."

"That's what I was hoping for," you answer, your lips twitching up into a smile beneath his.

He lets go of your hair and reaches down with both hands to cup your arse and pull you close until you are touching along the whole front of your bodies, never moving more than an inch away from your mouth.

"Yeah?" he asks, his voice a breathy rasp. "Maybe you'll get more than you bargained for."

You can't answer. Any coherent words have fled your brain. You close your eyes and moan, arching your body even tighter against his, feeling the swell of his erection pressing against you.

His hands move to your hips and he pushes with one, pulling with the other. "Turn around," he commands and you let him spin you until you're facing the kitchen table. He gives you a little shove in the middle of your back. "Bend over."

Your heart starts to beat a little faster and a touch of (thrilling) fear shudders through you as you lie there on the table waiting, wondering what he will do next. You hear him working his belt loose and then you hear the belt buckle ring as it hits the tile floor. He grabs your hips again, pulling you back away from the table a bit so he can reach beneath you and fumble around with your belt and zip, little annoyed sounds coming from him as they prove to be a bit more of a challenge than he would've liked. But it's done soon enough and you feel the cool air on your naked arse as your trousers hit the floor and your pants are pushed down around your ankles.

He leans forward and rubs his cock along the crack of your arse, giving a smug little moan of approval at the current situation -- you bent over and vulnerable, him erect and commanding.

But this encounter wasn't planned for and he pauses a second before reaching past your head to the center of the table. He takes the lid off of the butter dish and scoops up two fingers full of the soft spread.

With little preparation he pushes both slicked fingers up your arse and you can't help but cry out a bit at the sudden intrusion.

"Little tease," he taunts. "Is this..." his fingers work deep inside you "...what you were wanting?"

You groan and your arse arches up into the air of its own volition. "Yes, John," you say, panting and sucking in your lip. You hear his quiet, throaty laugh.

"What if I just left you here?" he says, holding his hand still. "I could just go upstairs and have a wank."

Now you know he's teasing. No way he'd prefer a wank in the bathroom to your ready arse. But he wants to hear you asking for it, begging for it. "Oh, don't do that," you moan, pushing yourself back onto his fingers. He lets you and they go deep inside again and feel so good. "I want you so bad, John, and my hot, needy arse is a whole lot better than your hand in the cold bathroom." His hand is holding still and you move, slowly fucking yourself on his fingers. You look over your shoulder and see that smug, squinty smirk on his face. It's working. He loves to see you turn into a total slut for him and you love the way it makes you feel when you do.

He steps forward and you feel his cock brushing against you as you slide back and forth on his fingers. With his other hand he grips your hip and holds you still. He rocks back and forth, rubbing next to his fingers, along your crack. So close! You try to roll your hips and push back but his grip tightens on your hip... there'll be bruises there in the morning. You like that idea so you close your eyes and try to do it again. His fingers are strong and easily hold you where he wants you. You're aching for it so badly that you can't help but moan his name in a beseaching cry.

His moan is almost a growl as he lets you know how much your desperation turns him on. He slips his fingers out of you and you can't help a little disappointed whimper, but it's soon turned into a sharp gasp as, with a single thrust, he penetrates you.

Almost immediately he settles into an insistant rhythm, sliding half out before burying himself inside you again. Not slow, not fast, but maddeningly steady. One hand stays on your bruised hip and with the other in the center of your back, he pins you to the table. You can't help but moan and pant, but you are trying to be quiet. Not because anyone might hear you (you're alone in the house), but because his sounds turn you on so much. He likes to think he's silent, reticent to give up any acknowledgement of the way you make him feel. But you've become an expert in him in just these past few weeks. You revel in every grunt, sucked in breath, groan, and choked back, half-uttered word.

It's driving you insane -- his persistant thrusting into you, his sounds, the feel of his hands controlling you. Much as you want to listen, to focus on feeling these things, it becomes more and more difficult as your own pleasure rises and soon you can't control your own responses anymore. You're moaning and whimpering, mumbling incoherently, trying desperately to circle your hips or move in some way that will make him change his rhythm, make him start fucking you hard. He ignores your attempts, but his little chuckle shows that he's noticing them.

"John," you cry out breathily.

"Yes?" he asks, amusement in his ragged voice.

You close your eyes and moan, clenching around his cock. "Fuck me."

"I am," he says.

Your moan turns into a pleading whimper. "John! Please? Oh god, I need you." And every fiber of your body trembles with the undeniable truth of that statement. In just a few weeks he's gone from a casual shag to something you need like air. At that realization you're suddenly afraid. Afraid you'll scare him away. Afraid you won't.

His hand strokes your back, reaching up to your neck and shoulders, soothing you. You feel him bend over you and whisper softly. "Need you, too."

His voice, those words... you can almost come just from that, but he stands up again and thrusts deep into you. "Like that?" he says, all smug and in control again. He pulls almost all the way out and slams into you, his balls smacking against you, sending a new sensation tingling, rushing through your body. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes!" you cry out as he continues his assault on your body. After so long a controlled rhythm, this wildness, this intensity feels so good. Hard and fast now he pounds into you and you can't hold back. You get louder and pant harder and can't help but move to meet him. Every thrust drives you closer, and despite being lost in your own sensations, you can hear the catch in his breaths, the sounds he so restrained before becoming deeper and more frequent.

You're not touching yourself and neither is he touching you, but that doesn't seem to matter this time. He's so deep inside you, so fiercly fucking you, that there's no resisting him as he drives forth your orgasm from you.

He bends over you again and wraps his arms underneath you, raising you off the table just a little, pulling you hard against him. Fast and shallow, staying buried inside you, he thrusts, grunting against your neck, his breath hot across the same place you were teasing on him when this all started. He thrusts hard once, twice, and holds there the third time, his body tense behind you, quavering as he spends deep inside of you.

His arms slip out from underneath you to lie against your sides and you both collapse onto the table. You're both breathing hard and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest and the pounding of his heart against your back. He feels so solid and comforting lying there. And did he say...? So what, you tell yourself. Things said in the middle of fucking never count.

But you can't get that voice of his out of your mind... 'need you too.'

Raspberries (Love Letters, Theta/Koschei, Photodrabble, PG-13)

von_gelmini — Sat, 23 Apr 2011 20:38:43 GMT

“What are these?” Koschei asked.

“Raspberries.” Theta picked one up, bit it slowly and let the sticky red juice drip down his lips. He snaked his tongue out, wrapped it around the remnant of berry and slurped it into his mouth.

Koschei stared, his mouth slack, his eyes transfixed on his lover’s mouth.

“They’re not as sweet as strawberries…” Another small red fruit slipped into Theta’s mouth. “But they’re delicious.” He picked up another, brought it up and held the berry against against his bottom lip. He lowered his eyes and looked up at Koschei through long ginger eyelashes. “Want one?” He asked, and held the raspberry between his lips.

Koschei couldn’t speak. He swallowed and managed a nod.

Theta took the red berry from his berry red lips and held it so he could speak. “Well come get it then,” he said, and put the raspberry in his mouth.

As he crossed the room, Koschei happily noted that the bowl beside Theta was large and filled with fruit. This could take awhile…

Theta Has Hiccups (Love Letters, PG-13, photodrabble)

von_gelmini — Mon, 18 Apr 2011 11:25:57 GMT

Title: Theta Has Hiccups
Series | Arc: Love Letters | none
Age | Sequence: 17 | 1
Prompt: photo & post HERE by Theta-Koschei on Tumblr
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Theta/Koschei
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 469
Contains: fluff, tons of fluff
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I am not writing this for profit.

The inspiration post HERE from Theta-Koschei on Tumblr:

THIS IS A MY KITTY IS FUCKING ADORABLE APPRECIATION POST.
~~also this should totally be a piece of fiction: Theta Sigma gets hiccups and Koschei kicks his ass in the middle of the night because he won’t knock it off~~

which led to this...

Theta Has Hiccups

"What the FUCK was that sound?" Koschei said, waking up suddenly.

"What..." HIC! "...sound?" Theta said, looking over at Koschei who had been spooning him while they'd been sleeping. HIC!

"THAT sound." Koschei propped himself up and leaned over Theta. "It came from..."

HIC!

"It came from you!" He scooted away from Theta, rolling the red-headed boy onto his back. "What IS that?"

"A..." HIC! "...hiccup," Theta answered, making the sound three more times immediately after.

Koschei squinted suspiciously at him. "Time Lords do not hiccup."

Theete did it several more times in rapid succession, desperately trying to catch his breath between each one, and desperately trying not to laugh at Koschei's expression. "Well," he began, punctuating every word with another HIC! sound. "Apparently HALF-HUMAN Time Lords DO!"

Koschei's eyes went wide. "Well stop it!" He scooted farther away and nearly fell off the narrow dorm bunk.

Theta couldn't help laughing then, which only made the hiccups worse. "I..." HIC! "...can't!"

"Theete, I have class in two hours and we only went to bed an hour ago. Let me sleep."

"How?" HIC!

"Go get in your own bed for once."

Theta pouted.

And hiccupped again. But didn't make any move to swap beds.

Koschei glowered at him.

"You're..." HIC! "...serious?"

Koschei reached for the box of tissues on the night stand and tore one in two, stuffing the ends in his ears. "Go on. Your first class isn't until afternoon. I'm the one who's taking the eight o'clock class for both of us because you know you never wake up on time."

Hiccupping and pouting, Theta grabbed his pillow and blanket and crossed the dorm to his unused bed.

It took two more tissues and a pillow over his head, but eventually Koschei could only faintly hear his boyfriend's strange human sounds from across the room. But then he heard a different sound.

"Theta?" His voice sounded strange to him muffled under the pillows.

HIC! *snuffle* "Yeah?" he faintly heard.

"You crying?"

*snuffle* "No." HIC!

Koschei sighed and pulled the pillow off his head. Theta was curled up across the room, his back turned to him. His back shaking with obvious sobs and occasionally jerking wildly with another of those weird hiccups.

"Get back over here, you ninny."

Theta grabbed his blanket and pillow again and sheepishly crawled back into Koschei's bed.

Koschei squished the tissues deeper into his ears and then snuggled the silly boy in his arms. "Now lie still and let me sleep."

HIC!

"As still as you can anyway." Theta smiled as Koschei kissed his damp eyelids.

"Okay, Kosch," Theta said without punctuation, and he cuddled down until his head was resting on Koschei's chest and his arms surrounded him. Warm and safe, he hadn't noticed that his hiccups stopped, he just drifted off to sleep.

Getting Ready (RPF, Photodrabble, PG)

von_gelmini — Sat, 16 Apr 2011 21:33:05 GMT

Title: Getting Ready
Prompt: photodrabble, inspiration photo below the cut
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: RPF
Characters: David Tennant, “You”
Rating: PG
Word Count: 242
Contains: Written in 2nd person, other character unspecified.
Warnings: RPF – don’t like, don’t read; other than that, none.
Disclaimer: I do not know these people. This is all a figment of my deranged mind. These are not the people you think they are, just imaginary constructs that look the same and share a name. It’s all made up. Not real. Fantasy.

Getting Ready

inspiration photo on tumblr

David's trying to get dressed for the show, tying the laces of yet another of his endless pairs of Chucks. You're lying on the floor in front of the sofa watching the telly and suddenly the vid isn't important anymore. Instead you'd much rather watch his strong-yet-delicate fingers manipulating those laces, remember how they felt last night 'manipulating' you.

His trouser leg rises up a little showing a scant inch or two of his other leg. You chuckle softly and roll over, ducking your head under his raised foot. Your tongue snakes out and tickles along the gap between his sock and trousers.

"Stop it! I'm late!"

You nip a little at his calf. "Should've woken up earlier," you tease. Your hand sneaks up the back of his leg and along his thigh on the sofa.

"And whose fault is it I stayed up all night?" he asks, indignant but amused.

"You could've said no," you say coyly as your fingers inch closer to David's crotch.

He carefully puts his foot down behind you and bends far over, his hair falling in front of his face. "Can't ever say no to you, love," he says and you rise up a little to meet him in a brief kiss.

"Better hurry," you say, rolling away and trying to let the telly distract you. He really does need to be going and if you keep up like that, he'll never get out the door.

Paparazzi (RPS-Tennant/Simm, PG-13)

von_gelmini — Fri, 08 Apr 2011 18:16:04 GMT

Title: Paparazzi
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: RPS
Characters: Tennant/Simm
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 480
Warnings: RPS -- Don't like, don't read.
Disclaimer: Didn't happen. Never will happen. All made up in my sick twisted little mind. I have no connection to the people herein, and am writing this purely for fun, not profit.

Paparazzi

Inspired by this manip.

http://sherlockislove.tumblr.com/post/4442331461

(A/N: Set in an AU where neither of them is married with kids)

"David, quit fussing," John said.

"Look, you know they're out there, just waiting for one of us to go out the door."

"Fucking vultures. I don't give a toss what they say."

"Yes, well, right now, we're the newscycle. 'Doctor Who actors come out of the closet'." David finished straightening John's tie and tried to brush the rumples out of his coat.

"'Come out'?" John said incredulously. "More like dragged out kicking and screaming. Bloody hell David, you're not my fucking nanny!" He brushed David's hands angrily away, but then grabbed them up tenderly. "Sorry, love. I'm not mad at you."

David smiled. "I know that. It's the situation."

"Why the fuck don't they just leave us alone? It's nobody's business what we do."

David wrapped his arms around John and kissed him. "In a few weeks, we'll be old news. They'll find someone else to chase after." He tilted his head to the side, thinking. "In a way, I'm almost glad it happened when it did."

John arched his eyebrows incredulously.

"No, think about it. If it had happened when we first got together... when I was still the Doctor..."

John smirked. "And I was your Master..."

"Well," David said blushing, "yeah. But then it would've wrecked the show. People still think of it as a kiddie show."

"And now," John grumbled, "all it'll wreck is our careers."

"Oh now, you don't really think that?"

"I don't?"

"No, you don't," David said firmly. "You're reputation has survived worse, and what is that saying? Any publicity is good publicity just spell my name right?"

John couldn't help laughing at David's optimism. It was one of the things he loved about him. A perfect counterpoint to his own tendencies to the opposite extreme. "I do know one thing," he said, looking into his lover's rich brown eyes.

"What?" David asked, smiling.

John leaned forward, rocking on his toes to reach David's lips for a quick kiss. "It's worth it."

David touched his forehead to John's. "Want me to come with you?"

"I think I can manage to go to the store on my own," he said, scruffling David's hair. "If we go everywhere together, they'll, I don't know, think we're a couple of besotted teenagers or something."

Reluctantly, David let John go and sat on the sofa. "But, John," he said, looking up at him with playful puppydog eyes, laying the act on thick, "I am a besotted teenager."

"Arse."

David fell back laughing. "Don't forget the tomatoes."

John headed for the door, pausing to flip two fingers in his lover's direction before heading out to face the ravening wolves at their door.
Behind the ruckus outside the second door, he could hear David's bright laughter again from inside their flat.

The paparazzi must've wondered why the usually glum John Simm had such a silly grin on his face that day.

Missing You (Love Letters, Theta/Koschei, NC-17, age 29)

von_gelmini — Sun, 20 Mar 2011 13:47:52 GMT

Title: Missing You
Series | Arc: Love Letters | none
Age | Sequence: 29 | 2
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Theta/Koschei
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1036
Contains: explicit sex
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I am not writing this for profit.

A/N: Takes place after Leave and before Return, Betrayal and Forgiveness (hmmm... I guess there is a story arc here after all... but it doesn't have a name and I'm too tired to retcon one in.)

Missing You

“Oh, Koschei, I miss you so much!” Theta screwed up his face and buried it in his lover’s pillow. He had always hated when they had to be apart even for a day. Now it had been almost six months. He missed just having him near, but at night, when he would lie in their bed alone and try vainly to fall asleep, what he missed was of a much shallower nature than just companionship. His cock was hard and aching and he felt so empty inside and cold all over. He rolled onto his stomach and wrapped himself around the (now only faintly) Koschei-scented pillow. But no matter how tightly he hugged it, it never hugged back. He missed the feel of Koschei’s arms around him, the heat of his chest pressed against his cool back, the swell of his prick pressing against his arse.

Roll over, Theta.

He felt Koschei’s hand on his upper arm, pulling him to roll over onto his back. He let go of the pillow and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, letting himself fall into position.

That’s it my little Theete. He heard Koschei croon. His fingers carded through Theta’s hair. Reach your hands up above your head. Stretch your long body out for me. Hold your wrists together, my Theta. You look so hot all long and lean and needing me. You need me Theta.

“Koschei,” Theta moaned. His whole body ached with want. He squirmed on the bed desperate for Koschei’s touch, needing so badly to feel the heat of his flesh against him – stretched out there alongside him, warm and solid and touching him along the entire length of his side. He needed Koschei’s hands on him and he felt one of them reach up and stroke his outstretched arm, grasping his wrists and pressing them hard together. Theta moaned and arched against Koschei, half-turning to him.

Uh uh, Theete. Lie back. Koschei was leaning close, whispering in Theta’s ear. His hot breath tickling his hair, his tongue close enough to feel when he spoke. I love your body, Theta. I want all of you. He felt Koschei’s other hand stroke possessively across his chest, palm flat, petting him like a cat.

Feel it, Theta. Feel my hands on your body. Feel me touching you everywhere. Yes, your cock is so hard I want to touch you and stroke it. Just like that, Theta. I’m tugging on that loose foreskin of yours, making you get so much harder and making it pull back tight as your cockhead swells and starts to weep for me. I’m rubbing the pad of my thumb across the head, spreading your pre-come slick over it. Stroke it long and then thumb across the slit. When I stroke up, I’m sliding your foreskin back covering your slippery knob and then exposing it again to my rough touch. Oh Theta, I want you. I want to suck your prick. To taste your honey and smell your scent. Swirl my tongue around the head of your cock and lick along the underside and ridge. Oh yes, shudder for me little Theete. I love to feel your body quake against mine. My mouth sucks kisses down your shaft like I was trying to give you hickeys all over your prick until I get to your balls. I love the scent of you there – sweat and sweet and clean. Sucking your balls, first one then the other, into the heat of my mouth, tonguing them just a little too much, yeah. Breathe for me, love, moan for me. Uh uh uh, hold those arms up taut. Stretch yourself out all the way down to your toes. Arch your back. Beautiful Theta. My Theta.

“Yours, Koschei,” Theta groaned, burying his face into his upstretched arms.

I want to nuzzle my face against the base of your cock, in those bright ginger curls of yours. My hands are grasping those narrow hips of yours, love, as I make my way back up your cock with my mouth. Feel my tongue flick across the head teasing you. Teasing me. I want you in my mouth but I want to watch you respond before I do. That’s right Theete, rise up to meet me. Show me how much you want your prick in my mouth.

“Oh, Koschei, please!” Theta begged. “Please, please, please,” he moaned. He felt Koschei laugh, satisfied he’d made him wait long enough.

Poor, desperate Theta. I’ll take your cock into my mouth and suck on it and lick it with my tongue. I know all the spots you like. Right there, eh little Theete? And if I just so very lightly let my teeth scrape along the shaft and flick my tongue along the slit and circle it just so where the foreskin is all pulled tightly back and the base of your cock in my fist being pounded as my mouth sucks your knob, and then right there… hold you right there on the edge, back off just enough to…

“Fuck, Koschei! Oh fuck! Let me come, Kosch? Oh fuck I need you so much!”

You’re mine, Theta. Mine forever. And if I keep licking you right there and then… oh yes I know what my little Theta needs to send him over. I know your body better than my own, love. And if I pinch that nipple of yours just a touch too hard like that…

“Koschei!” Theta screamed as he came. His body seemed to stretch so tightly it would pull apart. And then every muscle relaxed and he floated in the white cloud of nothingness, waiting for Koschei’s touch to bring him back down.

But the touch never came. And the air grew cold around his naked and sticky body. And Theta was alone in the bed. And Koschei was half a world away, probably fucking his husband, Arkhajz.

A deep breath, no tears, and Theta opened his eyes to stare through the dark at the ceiling until the dawn light sneaking across it told him it was time to shower and get ready for class.

No More I Love Yous (Love Letters, Theta/Koschei, R)

von_gelmini — Sat, 19 Mar 2011 08:00:25 GMT

Title: No More I Love Yous
Series | Arc: Love Letters | none
Age | Sequence: 296 | 1
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Theta/Koschei
Rating: R
Word Count: 971
Contains: adult language, adult situations
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I am not writing this for profit.
A/N: There is one use of a foreign phrase in this. Beside it you will see a . Hover the mouse over the symbol for the translation. The reason for this term will be explained whenever witchway and I finally start posting our Outsider epic arc. :)

No More I Love Yous

No more I love yous
The language is leaving me
No more I love yous
The language is leaving me in silence
No more I love yous
Changes are shifting outside the words
-- Annie Lennox

Koschei sat and watched Theta. No. The Master sat and watched the Doctor. They’d argued yesterday. Found a moment of peace in bed where they always could, but today, things were strained. They were both trying hard to put aside their differences. If only his stubborn, naïve husband would see sense. See what IS rather than what he wishes would be. Still clinging to the childhood fantasies and refusing to see the very real situation in front of him. Gallifrey was rotten to the core and the source of the rot needed to be excised. Then, maybe then, they could be free to do what silly little Theete wanted. They had millennia ahead of them. Time enough for Theta’s exploring after. After the government was overthrown and a new one – with his and the other ‘renegades’ ideas put into place. Then they could go and explore the stars. He couldn’t understand why Theta cared about all those pathetic lower races anyway. Gallifrey. The Time Lords. That was his home and his people. They alone were important in the universe. Obligated to shepherd all of time and space. It was their birthright. His and Theta’s. They could right so many wrongs, ease so much suffering… surely that would appeal to the DOCTOR.

It was the Doctor who didn’t care, not the Master. The Doctor wanted to play tourist at worst, anthropologist at best. He couldn’t see that he was almost as bad as those fossils on the High Council. He just wanted to watch and meddle and play. Not really FIX anything. Not do anything to actually help the populace – just a few choice individuals, acquaintances, pets. Most of whom likely didn’t deserve his time. Koschei wanted to fix the chaos in time and space. To MASTER it. To make it truly better not just slap a plaster over it like the Doctor did. It would be a difficult treatment that the Master would give. The patient would get worse before it got better. He’d have to watch it suffer (something the Doctor could never do!) in order to actually GET better and not just FEEL better. Why couldn’t the Doctor see that? The Master was ready to assume his ‘duties and obligations.’ Why wouldn’t his Theete take up his place at his side where he had always been? Where the Master needed him.

NEEDED. Rassilon’s Balls! He hated needing the Doctor. Needing the few hours peace that being with him – that fucking him – brought. No one else quieted his mind, so he’d long ago given up his other lovers. Just Theta. Just the Doctor. There to heal him. But he wasn’t even sure the other man believed him anymore, believed that the noise inside his head was even real. Last night he’d said as much. He thought the Master (his Koschei!) was using the drums as an excuse for his “evil”. That he’d always used them as an excuse. ALWAYS. How could the Doctor have forgotten all those nights as children that they’d cling to each other with their fears. How Koschei would scream in agony as the drums ravaged his mind. Ho long had it been (years? Decades?) since he’d laid his head in Theta’s lap and had his lover stroke his forehead until the sound quieted down? How long since Theta clung to him after a nightmare instead of rolling away clutching at himself?

But, by Omega, their nights (and mornings and afternoons and evenings and whenevers)… Those nights when the Doctor became his Theta once again, reaching out his slender wrists, “Dwylo clymu, Koschei?” he’d ask so sweetly. Then it was the Doctor’s time to NEED, to ache, to burn. It never mattered how hard they’d fought – they fucked even harder. He could still make his Theta scream – in both pain and in pleasure. And afterward, he still declared himself, “Yours, Koschei, forever.” That made it all worthwhile.

Koschei walked over to the sofa and sat beside his husband. He took Theta’s long-fingered hands in his. Theta looked up at him. “I hate it when we argue, Theete,” he said.

“Oh gods, Kosch, me too.” Theta’s eyes began to fill with tears. Still an emotional loomling, his beautiful Theta.

Koschei opened his arms and theta moved into them. They just sat, Theta lying back against his chest, settling in his arms. Yesterday’s problems drifted away and it felt so good to just hold him again. Just Koschei and his Theta. No urgent need to fuck or do anything more than simply BE together and let time slide past them.

“I love you, Theta,” he whispered, kissing the top of his head.

And with those little words he’d ruined everything. He felt Theta stiffen ever so slightly in his arms and then force himself to relax.

Pretending he hadn’t noticed, he gave the Doctor another kiss on top of his Theta’s red hair. (How he wished he’d transform already… damn near 300 and still a loomling… still looking like his beloved Theta.) He stood and leaned over to put a kiss on his lips. The Doctor tried to make it more, but the Master stepped back. “I need to go to the lab for a couple of hours. The temporal structure experiment is finishing up today.”

“And then?” the Doctor asked with a sly smile.

The Master forced a chuckle and returned his smile. Then he grew serious and fixed the Doctor with his dark eyes. “I love you, Doctor,” he said solemnly, knowing that this was the last time those words would pass his lips. “Forever.”

“Yours, Koschei,” the Doctor said absently, a ritual becoming ever more devoid of meaning.

Leaving their flat, the Master shut the door behind him. “Yes, you are,” he muttered darkly. “And I will never let you forget it.”

Happy Valentines Day (Love Letters, Theta/Koschei, PG-13)

von_gelmini — Tue, 15 Feb 2011 01:30:09 GMT

Title: Happy Valentine's Day
Series: Love Letters
Age: 6 908
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Theta/Koschei
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 830
Warnings: language, some adult situations
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I am not writing this for profit.

A/N: I wrote this for the Love, Actually challenge over at , where I'm on Team Anti-Hero. Just a few of the Valentines Day cards that have gone between Theta and Koschei.

Happy Valentine's Day

age 6

age 11

age 19

age 21

age 22

age 31

age 47

age 87

age 110

age 153

age 908

1sentence challenge - Claim: Theta/Koschei, Table Alpha (Love Letters, R)

von_gelmini — Tue, 08 Feb 2011 08:03:15 GMT

Written for the 1sentence challenge, theme table Alpha

Wherein much abuse of punctuation occurs ;)

A/N: almost all sentences can be read as part of my Love Letters series.
A/N2: this symbol, , if you hover the mouse over it, will give the translation for a foreign word.

#01 - Comfort
"Theete, please don't cry," Koschei said, sitting beside him on their bed he put his arm around his friend's shoulders and hugged him tightly, "those idiot cousins of yours don't know what they're talking about... your belly-button is cute."

#02 - Kiss
One thing Theta could never get enough of was Koschei's kisses -- they could drive him wild, comfort his deepest fears, and make him feel like he was the most loved person in the universe.

#03 - Soft
Koschei brushed Theta's soft, ginger hair back from in front of his face, where it seemed to inevitably fall.

#04 - Pain
It hurt at first, but the pain was nothing compared to the pleasure that Theta felt whenever Koschei claimed his body.

#05 - Potatoes
"These things look disgusting," Koschei said, turning the brown vegetable in his hand, "this cannot be what your mother's delicious chips are made of."

#06 - Rain
The boys were running in the field of red grass when the first raindrops began to fall, but they didn't care -- they were alone and free as the wind, as the clouds, as the rain... besides, Theta rather liked the way the wet, white shirt clung to Koschei's body.

#07 - Chocolate
Koschei grinned with excitment when he saw that a package had been left outside their dorm room -- return address Swizerland, Earth, marked perishable -- those chocolate strawberries they'd shared over the summer had been so delicious, he couldn't wait for Theta to get back from class so they could do it again.

#08 - Happiness
Koschei lay back and opened his arm, Theta crawled right into his usual spot and rested his head on Koschei's chest; there was nothing that made either of them happier than being like this after they'd made love.

#09 - Telephone
"Theta, the whole point of us spending the weekend apart means we're supposed to be apart... not on the phone with each other every five minutes," Koschei said, annoyed at first, but the sad look on Theta's face made him quickly apologize and spend the next two hours listening to his boyfriend babble on about his day away.

#10 - Ears
The way Theta's hair curled just a little, right behind his ear... it was impossible for Koschei to resist nuzzling into the spot and showering it with tiny kisses and licks -- and the sounds doing that made Theta give, well that just made it even better.

#11 - Name
"Koschei the Deathless was a demon in Russia on Earth," he explained to Theta, "who kept his soul inside a needle which was inside an egg, inside a duck, inside a rabbit, inside a golden chest, buried under an oak tree, on an island, in the ocean, and as long as it is safe, he can't die... just like me... I'm never going to die, Theete."

#12 - Sensual
Koschei slipped his fingers into the warm leather of the gloves; the fit was snug and felt like a second skin tightly caressing his hands and he couldn't wait to touch Theta with them.

#13 - Death
When he stepped out of the TTC and into Koschei's open arms, Theta's eyes were red-rimmed and swollen; Koschei doubted he'd stopped crying much since his mother died.

#14 - Sex
Their neighbors on both sides of their dorm room banged loudly on the wall, "Rassilon's balls, Theta, can't you be more quiet!"

#15 - Touch
His skin was so very pale, so incredibly soft, the feel of it beneath Koschei's fingertips set them tingling.

#16 - Weakness
He hated when he was like this, that the only thing that could calm him was Theta's gentle touch, that he needed someone, even though it was his beloved Theete, to make the noise in his head -- the noise that even Theta couldn't hear -- get quiet enough that he could stop screaming.

#17 - Tears
"Oh Koschei," Theta said, tears glistening in his bright blue eyes, "Don't you know that I'll never leave you, we're forever, love... Koschei the Deathless and his Theta Sigma... I swear it, FOREVER Kosch... forever."

#18 - Speed
"Theta, Theta, slow down... you lost me somewhere around the third word... Rassilon's left tit, do you ever talk fast when you're excited."

#19 - Wind
Koschei was tall enough now that when he held his hands down to his hips, they just brushed the top of the red grass as it blew in the wind and as he walked alone in the fields of his father's estate, he missed Theta more every moment... and it was only the third day of the long summer break -- he had no idea how he'd ever make it through three months alone.

#20 - Freedom
"Now that we're done at the Prydon and moving on to the Time Lord Academy, there's nothing your mother can do to stop us being together, Kosch, we're not time tots anymore."

#21 - Life
Koschei was wriggling in his nanny's arms, when she finally held him up to see, the crying little pink thing stopped making noise and fixed him with dark blue eyes, and Koschei, who was only six weeks older, knew that he would always love Theta Sigma.

#22 - Jealousy
"Koschei, I don't care about any of the others, I know they don't matter, but please, please promise me you'll never sleep with Arkhajz again?"

#23 - Hands
Koschei cupped Theta's face in his hand and Theta turned, taking his finger into his mouth and sucking on it sensuously.

#24 - Taste
"Mmm, you taste like strawberries," Theta said, licking the red juice off of Koschei's lips, "and chocolate."

#25 - Devotion
"I mean this as much today as I did the first time I said it, Kosch: I will forgive you anything."

#26 - Forever
"Do you two keep saying it... do you know what 'forever' means, to a TIME LORD," their professor, Borusa said with disgust, "you will quit using that obscenity or I will mark you down for it."

#27 - Blood
"Oh gods, Theete, please wake up, don't die, oh gods, there's so much blood, Theta, Theta; won't someone come help, HELP!"

#28 - Sickness
"What do you mean I can't see him, that's Koschei, he needs me, I don't care if I'm his 'family' or not, I love him and you're going to let me in to see him or you're going to regret it."

#29 - Melody
It was a sad song Theta's mother always hummed, she said it reminded her of Earth, but for Theta, it just reminded him that he was different, and Koschei knew when he heard his boyfriend distractedly singing to himself while doing his homework that something must've happened, so he stood behind him, bent over, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, he kissed Theta on the top of his head and said, "I love you, Theete."

#30 - Star
"Second to the right, and straight on till morning," Theta whispered softly as he looked up at the sky imagining all the places he and Koschei would visit once they graduated.

#31 - Home
'Home' was any place but for him; the only time Koschei ever felt at home was when he was in his dorm room with Theta.

#32 - Confusion
"Wait, wait, wait," Theta said, putting up his hands, "what do you mean, 'I want to go outside for a drink'... do you mean outside or Outside?"

#33 - Fear
"Shh, Theta," Koschei whispered, gently stroking Theta's head, "it's just a dream, you're not alone, I'm here, love, I'm always here."

#34 - Lightning/Thunder
The sound of the drums became so loud it was like thunder, onetwothreefour, all running together repeating and repeating over and over until Koschei couldn't help but fall to the ground clutching his head because it would never stop never stop never stop... until it did; Theta's arms encircled him and he kissed him on the forehead, whispering softly in his ear, "I love you, Koschei, I'm here, I'm yours forever."

#35 - Bonds
Theta held his arms out, wrists crossed, palms up, "Dwylo clymu, Koschei," he said, offering himself to his lover in the manner they'd learned during their weekend with the Outsiders.

#36 - Market
"No, absolutely not, Koschei, I am not going to that planet with you on spring break so you can pretend to sell me at some slave market!"

#37 - Technology
It was quite simple, actually, he should've been able to figure it out on his own, but Theta walked past, glancing at his project and simply said, "Why don't you try reversing the polarity of the neutron flow," and of course, damn him, it'd worked.

#38 - Gift
"I swear, Theta, if you ask me one more time what I got you for Otherstide, I'll... I'll... I'll TELL you," Koschei said, watching as Theta opened his mouth then quickly closed it again, having been bested at his game.

#39 - Smile
Koschei watched, transfixed, as Theta climbed out of the river, naked and dripping, stretched out on his towel and leaned his head back, shaking out his hair, and smiling up at the warmth of the suns on his face.

#40 - Innocence
"Theta, has anyone ever kissed you," Koschei asked, but before Theta could finish shaking his head, Koschei leaned forward and gave his best friend a quick kiss on his lips, "now they have."

#41 - Completion
"That's the last one," Theta said, giving Koschei a big kiss after opening his Otherstide present, "I've got every Harry Potter book, now I can start reading them."

#42 - Clouds
The grey clouds chased each other across the orange sky as the two boys chased one another across the field of tall red grass.

#43 - Sky
Theta reached out and grabbed Koschei's hand as they ran, laughing for no reason at all other than the pure joy of their companionship, "Look at us now," they both cried out looking up at the burnt orange sky of Gallifrey.

#44 - Heaven
Theta floated somewhere out above his body, heaven it must be, he thought, because ony in heaven could I have felt something as wonderful as Koschei making me come like that.

#45 - Hell
Koschei put no stock in concepts of heaven or hell, well, maybe in hell, because spending the summer listening to his mother droning on and on about some girl or boy she wanted him to meet, couldn't be any worse than any hell he'd read about.

#46 - Sun
Gallifrey has two suns, one smaller and not shining as brightly as the other; the Academy has two boys, one with hair the color of the second sun, shy, and not shining quite as brightly as his friend.

#47 - Moon
The cool light of Pazithi Gallifreya shone down on their spot in the woods near the river as Theta and Koschei made love beneath the sky.

#48 - Waves
Theta sees him across the quad and, before he starts to run to him, waves to get Koschei's attention.

#49 - Hair
Theta loves the way Koschei's hair strings down in front of his face, all sweat-soaked and wild as he fucks him.

#50 - Supernova
Theta told him that their love was like a supernova, so bright that everyone everywherewhen would have to acknowledge it -- Koschei couldn't shake the feeling that though the explosion burned hot, the gasses soon grew away from each other and turned cold.

Too Hot Not To Happen... (Ten/Simm!Master, Five/Ainley!Master, NC-17)

von_gelmini — Sun, 30 Jan 2011 10:02:29 GMT

Title: Too Hot Not To Happen...
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Ten/Simm!Master, Five/Ainley!Master, Ten/OMCs, Five/OMCs
Rating: NC-17
Contains: pwp, timey-wimeyness, explicit sex, orgy/gangbang, maybe a tiny bit of dub-con on Five's part (depends on how you look at it)
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I am not writing this for profit.
A/N: A stand-alone story, not part of any series or arc, though I suppose it could be read as an AU post-YTNW, with LLs as coloring it's background a bit... there's clearly HISTORY there.
A/N2: oh yeah, it's all silvermoon07's fault. :P This one's for her, for nursing along my wayward plotbunnies.

Too Hot Not To Happen...

"What are you doing?"

"Texting. I'd think that was obvious," the Master replied.

"Yes, but whom are you texting? I'm here and there isn't anyone else in the universe who'd put up with you."

"I put up with me."

The Doctor was confused but then it dawned on him. "You can't! You can't text YOURSELF!"

"Oh rubbish. The universe won't implode."

"And you know that how?"

"Because it hasn't so far any of the other times I've done it."

"You're... you've..."

"There, there... keep trying. You'll get the hang of talking one of these days."

"You CAN'T!"

The Master pressed the 'send' button. "Just did." He grinned and went to the other side of the TARDIS console and began to press buttons and turn dials. "Now, this is so much more fun since you took those bloody isomorphic controls off."

"WHAT?"

"Oops. I mean since I took those bloody isomorphic controls off."

The Doctor groaned. "I hate you."

The Master grinned and bounded over to him, giving him a peck on the cheek before adjusting more dials. "No you don't. You lurrrrvvveee me. You told me so, remember."

The Doctor sat on the jump seat, pinched his nose between his fingers and shook his head. "Where are we going."

"Oh you'll like this. You said we needed some fun. A vacation, you said. No running or monsters or saving the day."

"Yes..." the Doctor said skeptically. He remembered the conversation just fine. He simply doubted that the Master's plan wouldn't eventually involve something of the sort.

"A nice little vacation planet. A pleasure planet," the Master said leering. "Just you and me... and you and me... and maybe you and me if the youngsters can manage to make it, there's that whole problem with his, your, TARDIS being locked on Earth or something like that."

"YOU CAN'T!" The Doctor leapt up from his seat and frantically examined the TARDIS's settings.

"Blah, blah, blah. You're just afraid you'll lose the bet."

"What bet?"

"That my you is better than his you."

The Doctor buried his face in his hands, then slowly opened his fingers to peek through, his eyebrows raised. "You don't mean... I can't touch another version of myself, well, I did that one time, but that nearly blew a hole the size of Belgium in the Earth. And you can't touch a different version of me, I mean I don't think you can because I'd remember it and I don't remember it."

"Oh don't be such a worrywart. You'll give yourself a headache and that's no fun where we're going."

"If the universe implodes it'll all be your fault."

"And I'm sure you'll remind me of that while we're busy imploding, you sanctimonious prat. You're just afraid you'll have fun."

"I doubt it."

"I know it." The Master gave him a lecherous grin. "I know you too well, my little Theete. And while his you is still you, you're much more... sensual... in this incarnation."

"As opposed to which? My sixth? That wouldn't take much!"

"No, no, pet. One off. Your fifth. You remember, the pretty blonde boy I used to delight so much in making scream?" The Master caressed the Doctor's blushing cheek. "Who do you think will win? You or you?"

"Win what?"

"Who can get fucked the most." The Master smiled. "Judging from the past few months since you've decided to be my keeper, I think you'll win hands down... or arse up as the case may be." He leaned in and whispered, his breath hot on the Doctor's ear. "And I've had the advantage of having had you both. The other me, well, he's just guessing."

"You cannot be serious."

"As a heart attack, my pretty."

"What makes you think I'll go along with this? Or were you just planning on having me raped?"

The Master rolled his eyes. "I thought we were past all that. You know you want it." He stepped closer, nudging the Doctor's knees apart as he sat on the seat. "All those hot men lusting after your gorgeous skinny arse. Pricks all hard for you." He reached down and rubbed the Doctor through his pin-stripped trousers. "Me sitting there watching them plow your arse, watching you get hard for them, watching them make you come over and over again, watching you beg them to fuck you harder. You know you want it. You'll do anything for me. It'll make me so hot seeing that." He licked along the Doctor's throat, grinding their bodies together. "When you're so shagged out you can't move, when your arse is so loose and wet and full of come you think you can't even feel it anymore... that's when I'll show you that you can." He squeezed the Doctor's cock just a little too tightly, making him moan. "I know I can always make you scream for me."

"It's hardly fair, I'm a lot younger then..."

"And still horny as a bitch on heat, if I remember correctly." He grinned. "And I do remember quite correctly." He felt the Doctor's arms slip around his waist. "You were always so willing in that body."

"Hardly," the Doctor said. "You just always took what you wanted."

"Oh and you put up just enough of a struggle to appease your conscience, as you always did. But we're past all that now, aren't we?"

The Doctor groaned and buried his face in the Master's neck. "Yes."

"Good. Because if we're not, I mean if this is all too much for you..."

"No."

"I told you, I'd stay. Not as your pet but as your lover. Your willing lover. Stop being that and I'll leave."

"You don't have to," the Doctor said. "I want you."

"Good. I want you too."

"So let's go to the bedroom."

"This will be more fun."

"The universe will..."

"I know, I know! Isn't that part of the fun though? Will it or won't it? Can the universe stand up to the combined passions of two completely shagged out Doctors or will it tear itself apart from the sheer amount of orgasmic energy?"

"And the fact that we're crossing one another's time lines and creating a paradox..."

"Pair of Docs... exactly!" He grinned again. "Or trio if I can manage to get your third's TARDIS working again."

"You won't because you didn't."

"Or maybe I will because I did?" He jumped back and spread his arms. "Who knows? You've got to admit, it is brilliant, isn't it?"

"You're a bloody lunatic," the Doctor said, but he smiled.

"Yep. And that's the fun of me, isn't it!"

The Doctor laughed. "One of these days, Koschei, you're going to go to far."

"And don't you just love the excitment? Whatever did you do with your boring old self without me in your life?"

The Doctor got up and walked over to the console. "I have no idea how I ever managed," he said dryly. He made a few adjustments to their course and to the settings that should allow the paradox to not rip the worlds apart (he hoped!).

"You'll do it!" The Master clapped his hands together. "I knew you would."

"But will I, I mean he?"

The Master rolled his eyes. "Trust me. I remember you better than you do. You were a lot easier to manipulate then than you are even now."

"I was not," he said petulantly. The TARDIS's rotor stopped. "We're here. And judging from these warnings, so are two other TARDISes." The Doctor frowned. "What about the Blinovitch effect?"

"Quit worrying. All taken care of by my other me. Ugh. I don't want to watch some old paunchy you getting fucked."

"How shallow of you, Master. I've seen you in worse shape."

"Oh yeah, you so were ready to jump my crispy bones because you're not at all shallow or concerned with what I looked like."

The Doctor looked ashamed. "Okay, so we're both shallow," he admitted.

"Exactly!" The Master put his arm around the Doctor's waist. "More alike than not, I've always told you that."

"I am not like you."

"Well, there are significant differences... For instance, I'm not about to be fucked within an inch of my life and love every minute of it."

"You..." The insult sputtered on the Doctor's lips because, well, it was true. "He doesn't stand a chance," the Doctor said with a sly grin.

"That's the spirit!" The Master patted him on his bum as he headed down the ramp to the door.

"Doctor."

"Doctor."

"Master."

"Yes, now we all bloody well know who we are," the Master said frowning at himself and the two Doctors. "You." The blonde Doctor pointed at himself. "Yes you. You're here willingly?"

"What do you care?" The younger Doctor said angrily.

"Aww, you're so annoying young. I'd forgotten about that." He walked up to the Doctor and cupped his chin, bringing his gaze down to his. "Are you here willingly, I asked," he repeated.

"Yes!" the Doctor answered, pulling himself away from the older Master.

The Master looked at his younger self skeptically. The bearded man shrugged. "More or less," he admitted to his older self.

"Close enough, right Doctor?" The older Master asked the older Doctor.

"Oh all right. I still don't remember this happening, I'm telling you. It can't because I don't."

"Who says I don't remember it happening. Maybe I retcon you after or something."

"Do you remember?" his Doctor asked.

He shrugged a lot like his younger self had. "More or less," he said imitating his own voice.

"You're infuriating," both Doctors said at once.

The bearded Master laughed. "You were right. This is going to be quite amusing."

"And if the universe implodes, well, what a way to go!"

"Would you quit congratulating yourself on your cleverness," the blonde Doctor said.

"Yes, and what exactly is this bet you two have?" the other Doctor asked.

"It's quite simple," the younger Master said. "I say mine," he walked over and rested his hand on the blonde's shoulder, "can do more than yours." He smiled at his Doctor. "Youth and enthusiasm."

"I'd forgotten how cute you were when you blushed then," the older Master said, looking at the younger Doctor.

"Hey now," the older Doctor said, walking over to his Master. "Let's not forget who belongs to whom here."

"He's rather possessive in the future," the younger Master said admiringly.

"We get better with age," the older Master bragged.

"Well, how are you two going to manage this scheme?" the blonde Doctor asked.

"Yes, Master, as we already discussed... we're shallow. I'm not about to just let anyone..." the older Doctor trailed off, embarrassedly realizing just what it was he was talking about doing.

"Don't worry. I told you I'm not about to watch some ugly old farts fucking. The proprietor of this establishment was kind enough to advertise the event for us and vet the applications." The Master looked smug with himselves.

The blonde Doctor was looking increasingly nervous.

"Don't worry, my dear," the bearded Master said calmly. "We've arranged a comfortable room for the competition, very private."

"Yes, very private," the older Master said mockingly. "Just you and me and you and me and oh, fifty or so strangers with raging hard-ons looking for a cute little Time Lord arse to fuck."

"You're crass when you get older," the blonde said to the bearded man.

"Yeah," the older Master said, grabbing his Doctor and pulling him into a rough kiss. "Well you like it when you get older. Upstairs, all of you." He smacked the blonde Doctor on the arse and grabbed his Doctor by the hand, dragging him up the rickety wooden back staircase.

The room was decently proportioned, but seemed smaller than it was for being dark and given what was about to happen there. Two mattresses were crudely thrown on the floor. Towels and lube were provided near each along with at pitcher of water. At the heads of the mattresses were comfortable chairs for each Master to sit and observe.

"It's okay," the Doctor said reassuringly to his younger self. "You'll like it once you get over your shyness, I mean I will, so you will, so I did, I mean... on bloody hell."

That made the blonde Doctor laugh. "He always knows how to get to us, eh?" He looked quickly at his Master.

"That never changes," the older Doctor agreed, laughing along with himself.

"So you two..."

"Spoilers," the older Doctor said and started to unbutton his suit jacket. He smiled at his Master who'd taken his place in his chair.

The Master grinned then looked at himself. "Yours is a little overdressed for the party still."

The bearded Master gave the blonde Doctor a bit of a glare. "Come now, Doctor. You said you'd be willing to try anything to dissuade me from my life of crime and atrocity. As you can see from my older self, you eventually succeed."

"Well," the older self said. "More or less."

The older doctor finished undressing and knelt before his Master. "More rather than less, right?"

"Oh very well. Yes. I'm a reformed man. There," he said looking at the blonde man. "Does that make you feel better?"

He looked skeptically at his older self. "You believe him?" he asked.

The Doctor looked over his shoulder and shrugged. "We have to, don't we?"

The blonde began to unbutton his cricket jacket. "I suppose we do."

"If you two have finished your hen party, I believe there are some rather handsome horny men on the other side of that door who'd like to make your acquaintence."

"You can't honestly find this as exciting as he does?" the younger Doctor asked his counterpart Master.

"Well, he is me after all," the bearded man said. "I have to admit, I am rather curious to see... Come kneel before me like you are with him," the Master said, not without tenderness in his voice.

The young Doctor blushed and did so. His Master leaned over and whispered in his ear. "You are beautiful, Doctor. Yes, I want to see you writhe on the floor and I want you to know that every man who has you is acting in my stead. I want to see you excite for him as you would for me. Don't deny it, Doctor. You know you never can deny me so let's do away with the pretense this time. Enjoy yourself. Take this night and release yourself from your inhibitions to do what it is you really want." The Master reached out and caressed the back of the Doctor's head, twining his fingers in his long blonde hair. "No one will know but us." He gently kissed the objections from the Doctor's lips. "Mine," he whispered against them.

The older Doctor was straining to hear what was being said to his younger self, but he was beiing distracted by the touch of his Master's fingers on his face. The look of raw lust in the Master's eyes turned him on. There was something so primal about his lover. No affectation of urbanity, just pure maddened desire. The Master was right, the crudity suited him now, his civility wiped clean by the scourges of war and loss and age.

"I want your arse in the air, my little Theete," he said, grabbing a handful of the Doctor's hair and bending his head roughly back. "I want to watch those men fuck you and use you and I want to see you come." He claimed the Doctor's mouth in a bruising kiss, biting his perpetually pouting lower lip. He reached down and grasped the Doctor's cock. "Mine," he growled possessively.

The young Master went to the door and let the owner of the brothel in. On his way back to his chair, he let his hand trail reassuringly over the Doctor's blond head. "Very well, sir, you may start sending them in," he said to the other man. "And have one of your boys bring us some wine, if you have any vintage that's suitable to drink that is."

The older Doctor curled up in the center of his mattress. Despite his casual act in front of his younger self, he was quite nervous and looked back to the Master for reassurance. The lecherous grin was enough to enbolden him. His younger self seemed to derive his strenth from within himself and was steeling himself to 'endure' what was about to happen. The older Doctor remembered doing that often. How he'd have to deny his own desires behind noble self-sacrifice and the pretense of long-suffering. But he also remembered how easy that pretense crumbled once his passions began to rise. He was slower to enflame in that regeneration, but once begun he burned brightly. He might not remember it having happened, but he knew once it began he'd never forget.

He began to worry about the madness of the impending paradox and how it would resolve, but a large muscular man knelt beside him. He smelled of the outdoors and hard labor but had cleaned himself as best he could given the primative standards of the world, and the Doctor had to admit that he was a handsome chap. No, this would not be an onerous duty at all. He rolled onto his stomach and raised his arse in the air as the Master had said he wanted to see him that way. There was little in the way of foreplay or preparation as the man reached his fingers into the bowl of lube and shoved them roughly up the Doctor's arse. He gasped at the entry but had little time to adjust before he felt the man shove his hard prick deep inside, replacing his fingers with something larger. Thought was driven from his mind as his body sought to adjust to the invasion and he shifted and moved to find a way to bring pleasure from the pain. It was just beginning to feel good when the man finished with a coarse grunt. The Doctor moaned in frustration but before he could even look over his shoulder a second man had entered him and began fucking with more skill than the first. Before long he was hard and panting. He looked over at his younger self.

The blonde Doctor was on his back, his legs pulled back almost to his shoulders. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and if it weren't for his rampant cock one might think he was being tortured by the young man who was slowly fucking him. He didn't want to be enjoying this but his body had other ideas. Despite his youth, the man inside him knew exactly what he was doing, moving slowly in and out making each stroke tease the Doctor's prostate. In an amazing feat of flexibility the young man bent himself over and licked at the head of the Doctor's cock as he impaled him deeply. The Doctor's blue eyes opened wide and he watched with amazement as the man fucking him teased his cock with his mouth.

"I think yours is going to come first," the older Master said. "Won't last as long."

"Don't you remember though, that one night that we made him come four times?" the bearded man asked. "He has a young man's stamina. How old is yours? Twelve hundred? Fourteen?"

"Nine hundred and seven!" the Doctor said breathily.

The younger Doctor laughed raggedly. "Oh I see we lie about our age now, eh? Oh!" he screamed out when the young man, taking offense at his distractedness, angled his thrust to better get his attention. "Bloody hell!" he swore.

"No talking while I'm fucking you," the young man said. "I'm going to be the one make you come." He circled his hand around the Doctor's erection and before long had done just that.

The Doctor had no time to recover before his second man claimed him, though he was much less skilled and the Doctor was able to calm himself and settle into the less stimulating pace that was set.

"Mine's on his third already," the older Master bragged. He stretched out his legs and rested his foot on the edge of the mattress.

The Doctor noticed the Master's nearness and reached his hand up to touch the Master's shoe. He scooted a bit farther up until he could wrap his hand around the Master's ankle. The man fucking him followed his movement, not missing a beat. The touch was what the Doctor needed and knowing he had the Master's attention, he arched his back and thrust back against the man fucking him, more actively participating than he had before. It was his fourth who made him come though. He was resting his face against the Master's shoe and panting, quietly muttering something over and over again just under his breath. He reached beneath himself and stroked his cock as the man fucked him hard and fast until at last he came, screaming out the Master's true name.

The bearded man arched his eyebrow and looked at his older counterpart, not believing what he'd heard. The oldler Master looked smug as he moved his leg back, sitting up in his chair. "He screams for us again," he said quietly to his younger self. He leaned over conspiratorily and whispered. "It's worth it."

"Spoilers," the older Doctor chided. He rolled onto his back to give his knees a rest as the fifth man knelt down on his mattress. He looked at his younger self. "But yes," he said tenderly. "It is worth it all."

Hours later, their younger selves had to concede the challenge, not because the blonde Doctor couldn't have gone one or two more, but because the young Master couldn't contain himself. He wrapped the naked and weak-kneed Doctor in his cloak and spirited him back to his TARDIS. Once inside, he lifted the taller man into his arms and carried him into the shower.

"I don't know what I'm like in the future, but I do not like sloppy seconds," he said as he gently washed his Doctor, following each swipe of the flannel with a kiss on his clean skin. He gathered the Doctor in his arms and they sat on the floor of the large shower, letting the warm water wash over their bodies. He brushed the Doctor's hair out of his face and kissed his lips. "You did that for me," he said, more than just a little awed.

"Yes," the Doctor answered, and rested his head on the Master's chest. They sat there under the warm water until their skin had become uncomfortably pruned. "You know we can't remember this," the Doctor said, sadly.

"We can wait until morning," the Master said, helping the Doctor to his feet and turning off the water.

"I suppose that won't hurt anything," the Doctor agreed. They dried one another with warm towels before heading to the Master's bedroom for the night. Before falling asleep, the Master carefully measured the doseage of a potent form of retcon. When they woke together in the morning, they would simply assume they'd had another one of their 'truces' and each head their separate ways, none the wiser.

The older Master, having won his bet, claimed his prize, roughly tossing the man, who had the audacity to still be fucking his Doctor, aside. And though the Doctor was sore and tired and didn't think it possible to come yet another time, as he always could, his Master proved up to the challenge. For a second time that night the Doctor called out the Master's true name.

"Come on, Doctor," the Master said, reaching his hand down to help his lover up off the filthy mattress. Neither of them bothered with their clothes as they made their way arm in arm down the back staircase to the TARDIS. "I think I like being your prisoner," the Master said.

"Oh, Koschei, you are not my prisoner."

"I know." The Master grinned. "No more isomorphic controls, remember?"

"Yes, well I'm taking away your texting privliges if you're going to act like an irresponsible teenager. You're lucky we didn't blow a hole in the universe."

"Luck had nothing to do with it, Theete. I always was better at temporal mechanics than you were."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Well don't do it again."

"Already been done, what would be the point? But I'm sure I'll think of something else..."

"Oh for Rassilon's sake!" The Doctor looked down, suddenly realizing he was naked and sticky and incredibly uncomfortable and cold on top of everything else. "I need a bath."

"Now that sounds like a good idea," the Master said, heading down the hallway.

"Oh god, Kosch, I am so done," the Doctor said following after.

"Yeah, well I'm not," he leered. "Do you know how incredibly hot you looked? Both yous? I bet they're bopping like bunnies right now."

"I still don't remember," the Doctor said worriedly, starting the water filling the tub.

The Master settled into the huge bathtub with a sigh. "I told him to retcon the hell out of you before morning."

"What about you?" the Doctor asked, settling in beside his lover.

The Master shrugged. "Don't remember a thing. I must've dosed me too."

The Doctor looked skeptically at the Master. He supposed he'd never know for certain, but whatever the Master had done, the universe didn't implode, so it must've worked out all right in the end. He settled into the crook of the Master's arm and toed the tap off, enjoying the feel of the steamy water and the closeness of the other Time Lord.

"I do you know," he said.

"Yeah. I know." The Master rolled to his side and hugged the Doctor. "You luuuurrrrvvve me. You sop."

The Doctor slid, soapy and wet, along the Master's body and wrapped his arms around him. "Be nice or I won't go down on you when we get out of the bath."

"Now who would that punish more?"

"Bastard."

"Yep." He brushed the Doctor's wet hair out of his face. "Mine."

"Yes, Koschei."

Red Head (Ten + Donna, G)

von_gelmini — Sun, 16 Jan 2011 15:44:34 GMT

Title: Red Head
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Ten + Donna
Rating: G
Contains: silliness, crack
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I am not writing this for profit.

A/N: a little early morning crack to answer this prompt over at .

Red Head

The bottle of red hair dye mocked him from the window of the store.

When he walked into the TARDIS's kitchen, Donna quite literally fell out of her chair laughing. It was a good five minutes before, gasping for breath, she could manage words.

"Oh. My. God!"

The Doctor looked crestfallen. "Nine hundred years and I've never been ginger," he tried to explain.

Donna picked herself up off the floor and gave her pitiful spaceman a big hug. "And you're still not, dumbo. Did you look at the results?"

"Erm... I wanted to show you..." he trailed off.

She fished about in her purse "And I suppose you just read the label on the box and bought it." She took out a small mirror and held it up.

"Aren't gingers called red heads in America?" The Doctor leaned in to look at himself in the compact. He pulled back startled at the sight of himself. "I'm..."

"Uh huh. RED headed." She reached out and scruffled her fingers through the Doctor's shocking red hair.

"Oh well," he mumbled a little sadly. "I'll go wash it out."

Donna felt the texture of the Doctor's hair. "Erm... no. That was a permanent dye you used. So either we wait for it to grow out, shave your head..."

The Doctor looked horrified at the thought.

Donna laughed again. "Didn't think so. God you're vain for a spaceman."

"Donna..." he chided, afraid she'd fall into another laughing fit.

"All right. Come on. We can bleach that color out and dye over it." She grabbed his hand and headed for the TARDIS door.

"No! I'm not going out looking like this."

"Oh okay. I'll pop 'round to the beauty supply and pick up things." She cocked her head to the side and looked at him. "You still want to be ginger?" she asked.

"I think I'd just like to go back to normal if you could do that," he said sheepishly embarrassed at the vanity that had led him to wind up with hair the color of a post box.

"Good." She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. But not before she quickly spun around and snapped a picture with her camera phone. Laughing, she darted out the door before the Doctor could catch her, knowing she'd be safe outside. She popped open the phone and took out her chip. No way was she letting him sonic that away. That was one for the memories, it was. Giggling she made her way to the store.

An hour later the Doctor had his normal hair color (well, almost) again. Glowering, he waved his sonic screwdriver over Donna's phone to erase that picture. The next morning, taped all over the console room walls, were pictures of the Doctor with red hair. He didn't know how she'd done it, but he couldn't help laugh at himself. It was easier now that he didn't look like that.

Donna heard him and came into the room. She held up the tiny chip. "For a spaceman, you're thick sometimes," she said grinning.

The Doctor laughed. "All right, Earthgirl. I just don't want to see that posted all over the internet! Donna, oh no you didn't!"

Art for Art's Sake (Jack/Ianto, R)

von_gelmini — Tue, 11 Jan 2011 03:16:38 GMT

Title: Art for Art’s Sake
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack/Ianto
Rating: R
Word Count: Mini-drabble, 92
Contains: Bondage, sex
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood. I am not writing this for profit.

Written for this prompt in “Three Sentence Stories” at

Art for Art’s Sake

It wasn't the first time Jack had been in bondage, but it was the first time he'd been turned into a work of art. The patience and precision required for shibari was well-suited to Ianto's attention to detail. After taking a series of pictures for their private memories, Ianto carefully untied Jack and lavished kisses and tender caresses everywhere the tight ropes had left their mark, until the Captain was begging for Ianto to fuck him, to finish him off, to do something to him; so of course the young Welshman obliged.

WARNING: RPS -- Rehearsal (R)

von_gelmini — Thu, 06 Jan 2011 11:45:44 GMT

Title: Rehearsal
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: RPS
Characters: David Tennant/John Simm/Philip Glinister
Rating: R
Word Count: 597
Contains: RPS, sexual situations, language, implied sex & BDSM
Disclaimer: This is all fiction. Made up. Not real. The characters herein are purely fictional who just happen to bear resemblance and share names with certain actors. If you don’t like RPS, please don’t read.

Inspired while I was making this graphic for these icons:

Rehearsal

“Come on, Phil,” David said as he put the finishing touches on the bow tie to his tux. “You said you were going to help John rehearse with me.”

“Yeah,” the big man grumbled, “but not this scene.”

“It’s the one I’m having problems with though.” John slid his black jacket over his similarly colored shirt.

“Yeah, but…” Phil started again.

“Oh come on,” David said, holding out the green dress. “It’s a costume. You’re an actor, how hard can it be?”

“Yeah, but…”

“It’s not like you can bloody well give me tips on being Hamlet, mate,” John said.

Phil sighed and took the costume from David’s outstretched hand. “It won’t fi…” He shook out the green satiny cloth and was surprised to find it considerably larger than would Michelle, John’s co-star. He looked at the other two men skeptically as he began to undress. Neither seemed like they were taking the piss and he had promised to help John rehearse after all. “Why we have to get into bloody costume to just do a bit of rehearsal,” he complained as he put the dress on.

“It will help him get into the character,” David explained. “Now wait in here for your cue.”

John and David went into the lounge and Phil stood ‘in the wings’ of David’s bedroom doorway. He listened to them rehearse the famous soliloquy. Damn, they were both good. John’s take was so different from David’s. Same words, but… “And that’s why you’ll never do bloody Hamlet,” he muttered under his breath, not a little disappointed.

“Soft you now!” He heard John start his cue. “The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered.”

Phil came down the corridor to the lounge with a little flounce, trying his best to get into character. “Good my lord,” he began before the flashes from both cameras blinded him.

David and John were clinging to each other in peals of laughter.

“You are both dead,” he growled before giving chase.

“Careful,” David said breathlessly, running away and ducking Phil’s meaty grab.

“You don’t want to…” John spun around quickly and shook off Phil’s grip on his shoulder. He headed for the sofa with the coffee table as a shield between them.

David was nearly bent double laughing. “…Tear the dress! Aw, fuck.”

“You’ll do for starters,” Phil said, catching David up in his arms. He pointed at John. “I’m going to beat within an inch of your life, Simm.” He tucked David tightly under his arm. “After I watch you beat him within an inch of his.”

David couldn’t stifle the chuckle. “Yeah, but only question is…”

John leapt over the coffee table and took off for the bedroom. “Will you wear the dress while you’re doing it?”

“Pretty please?” David added, giving Phil his best puppy-dog eyes.

He looked down at David. “I will n…” The eyes. Bloody hell, how did John ever manage to keep command of this one? “Oh bollocks.” He looked at John, who was standing at the bedroom door, slowly unbuttoning his shirt giving him his best ‘fuck me’ look. “Bollocks,” he swore again. He smiled and shook his head in disbelief. “How come you two are the nancys and I’m the one wearing the dress?”

“Erm… You look good in green?” David offered with a blinding grin.

“And you look good in red, Tennant. Nice big red welts across that skinny white arse of yours.” He let David out of his grip and gave him a nudge down the hallway. “Get to it, Johnny boy.”

Have You Ever... (Love Letters, Theta/Koschei, R)

von_gelmini — Tue, 04 Jan 2011 04:49:59 GMT

Title: Have You Ever...
Series | Arc: Love Letters
Age | Sequence: 28 | 4 (sometime after “Sick”)
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Theta/Koschei
Rating: R
Word Count: 316
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I am not writing this for profit.

Have You Ever…

“Koschei? Are you…”

“Don’t say it,” Koschei groaned. He rolled over to face Theta and shook his head exasperatedly. “What is it this time?”

“Do you… I mean did you… um… have you…”

“Out with it little Theete.”

“Have you ever slept with a woman?”

Koschei’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “What the fuck brought that up?”

“I was just wondering.”

“Theta, you don’t ever ‘just wonder’.”

Theta pouted. “And you don’t ever give a straight answer.”

“Do you want one?”

Theta thought about it a moment. About eighty percent of him wanted to run and answer ‘no.’ But that curious twenty percent always won out. “Yes,” he said.

Koschei looked at his lover skeptically. They never talked about his extra-curricular activities. Theta might think he wanted to know, but Kosch knew better. “No,” he lied.

“So yes,” Theta countered.

Koschei sighed. “Theete, it doesn’t matter. None of them matter. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Theta said, drawing out the word.

“So it doesn’t matter if they were men or women or wombats.”

“But a woman? One day your mother will want you to marry…”

“Ugh. So not happening. Women are all right, but I’d never marry one.”

Theta smiled. “But you’d marry a man?”

“Maybe,” Koschei said slyly.

Theta scooted closer to Koschei and wriggled into his arms. “G’night, Kosch.” Within moments he was back asleep.

Koschei rolled onto his back, gathering Theta to lie in the crook of his arm, his head on his chest. Absentmindedly, but now wide awake, he carded his fingers through Theta’s soft ginger hair. He would find a way. He would subvert her plans for him. He was smarter than she was and he was already working on a plan. He always got what he wanted – he kissed the top of Theta’s head and felt him shift in his sleep – and what he wanted was right here in his arms.

Love and Loss (Love Letters - Ten + Jack, Jack/Ianto - R)

von_gelmini — Mon, 03 Jan 2011 07:35:47 GMT

Title: Love and Loss
Series | Arc: Love Letters | Tenth Doctor, canon era
Age | Sequence: 903 | post-Voyage of the Damned, pre-Partners in Crime
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Ten + Jack, Jack/Ianto, past Doctor/Master
Rating: R
Word Count: 2667 (erm… this was supposed to be a drabble… it got away from me)
Contains: adult situations and concepts, very brief non-explicit mention of past non-con
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I am not writing this for profit.

Love and Loss

Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. The Doctor agreed with that sentiment. He’d loved each of his companions throughout his life in their own way. And despite the sadness he inevitably felt when they left – or died like poor Astrid – he wouldn’t change it for the world.

But to have loved and lost and then regained and lost again? It was more than his hearts could bear. No matter how much he tried to distract himself, the distractions eventually ended and he was once again alone. He could pick up another companion if he wished, that was always easy enough to do. Ill advised though, given his current state of mind. He’d done that with Martha after Rose and it hadn’t been fair to the girl. No, alone was best.

He cried nearly all the time when he was alone. Yes, this regeneration was more emotional than his others, but he knew he couldn’t go on like this. Not and survive. And he wanted to survive. More than that, mere survival was never enough for him. But night would come again and he would be in his bed, curled up crying, unable to forget the feel of him. Of the way he felt when he died in his arms. Of the way he felt when they would meet and declare a night’s truce. Of the way he felt when they were oh so young and innocent, just two lads who believed that love was enough and that it would last forever.

Mourning wasn’t enough. The Doctor had already mourned. When he’d heard that the Cruciform, that ultimate weapon, had been destroyed with all hands lost he didn’t have time to mourn. But after the war he did. Before he met Rose. His ninth regeneration was born of the grief for him. For Gallifrey to be sure, but mostly for him.

To have found him again was a miracle. Of course he was still the same. Still scheming, still destroying. But he was alive. The Doctor wasn’t alone. Of all the Time Lords to have survived the Doctor never dared to hope and then there he was. Wonderfully, amazingly, impossibly alive. But then he was, after all, Koschei the Deathless.

During the Year That Never Was, no matter how bad things got, the Doctor knew he would defeat him. He always did. And then they would begin the cycle again and again. Battle and truce. Fight and fuck throughout the stars. Always with the hope that someday each of the other would change. As long as there was life there was hope. And there was love.

To have loved and lost… and lost again.

The Doctor was accustomed to bearing his burdens alone. He’d always muddled through long enough to pull himself out of his sorrows. But now… perhaps he had lived too long. To have outlived his people, his planet, his children, his husband. Too much. Even for him.

He heard her voice suggest…

“No,” he answered. “I don’t need anybody. I’ll be all right. I’m rubbish right now to be around, old girl. He has his team. He’s not going to drop it all and travel with me. And I’m not one to ask a second time.” He listened again. “Just a visit? I’m not in the moo…” The TARDIS lurched forward out of its orbit and into the vortex of her own volition. The Doctor sighed. “No arguing with you then. Lead on.”

The TARDIS landed in her usual spot on the Plass, opened up and began refueling. Once started, the Doctor knew he wouldn’t be able to move her for several hours. He could either wait for Jack to come to him or… He grabbed up his coat and headed for the little tourist office.

“You must be Mr Jones!” he said cheerily. “I’d recognize you anywhere from Jack’s glowing description.” He gave the young man a wink. “I can see why he’d leave me for you.”

Before Ianto had a chance to recover, the door opened and Jack burst through. “Doctor!” He ran to the tall, thin man in the brown suit and hugged him tightly. “It’s been awhile.”

“Has it?” The Doctor stepped back a bit. “I thought I’d give you some time,” he sputtered. He had no idea how far in the future the TARDIS had brought him. “Erm… How much time have I given you?” he asked.

Jack laughed. “Almost two years.”

“Just been a couple of months for me,” the Doctor explained. “I’m probably crossing myself somewherewhen.” He looked around a little nervously. “Still, the universe isn’t exploding, so it must be all right.”

“Come on in, Doctor. I’ll show you the place.”

“I never thought I’d be willingly walking into Torchwood,” he said a little skeptically.

“It’s changed,” Jack said.

The Doctor dutifully followed Jack on the tour. His former companion was quite proud of his achievement, and grudgingly, the Doctor had to admit he should be. Under his guidance Torchwood had become a peaceful organization. He smiled and joked with the team members, giving each of them his attention. Part of him was actually interested in what was going on, but a bigger part of him just wished they were all gone and he could be alone with Jack.

Jack must have picked up on his discomfort because before long they were heading up to his office alone. Ianto brought them both a lovely tea and left quickly, but not without a rather proprietary kiss on Jack’s lips.

“Sorry about that, Doc,” Jack said after Ianto was gone.

“No, no. Not at all.” The Doctor smiled. “The message was received. You can tell the handsome Ianto that he needn’t fear I’ll take you away again.”

“It’s just after last time…” Jack paused and looked at a speck on the floor. “I was a bit of a mess.”

The Doctor nodded silently, unable to look at the Captain. After an uncomfortable silence he quietly said, “I still am.”

Jack looked at him sideways. “You travelling alone now?”

He nodded. “Best that way. It’s just too dangerous. Besides, I’m not fit company anymore.”

“Doctor? What’s wrong?” Jack asked, genuinely concerned.

The Doctor leaned his head back, sighed and then lowered his face into his hands, massaging around his eyes. “I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“Which?”

“Oh, I don’t know why I came. I don’t know why she brought me here. You don’t want to hear this.” He propped his elbow on Jack’s desk and rested his head in his hand.

“The TARDIS brought you here?” Jack asked, a little disappointed.

“She seems to think I need to talk to someone about it.” He looked up at Jack. “And she thinks you’re that someone. But trust me. You don’t want to know.”

Jack walked out from behind his desk and pulled up a chair beside the Doctor. “If it’s got you this upset, Doc, I do want to know. Tell me.”

The Doctor looked up at Jack. Tears ran down his blank face. “He wasn’t just a friend.”

“Who?” Jack asked and then immediately realized the answer. “Oh. You and the Master… were lovers?”

The Doctor scoffed. “Much more, Jack. So much more.” He pressed his fists into his eyes to stop the tears and took a deep breath. “You have every reason to hate him, I know. You’re the last person I should be telling this to.”

“You’re right. I do hate him. But he’s dead now.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened and his head shook just a little.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “He was special to you. More than just the last of your kind. Tell me.”

“We grew up together,” the Doctor began. “Oh he was brilliant.” He couldn’t help but smile. “We were together literally from the moment I was born. My mother and his nurse were sisters. Growing up together, going to school together.” He looked at Jack. “He was my first kiss. He was my first time.” The Doctor swallowed. “And he was my husband.”

Jack couldn’t help being startled at the revelation. “The Master… and you? Married?”

The Doctor nodded. “Married by the ancient Gallifreyan rites of Seventh Degree matrimony. We were more than married. We were enaid rhwymo. We were soul-bound.” His voice caught as he said a word that Jack didn’t understand. “Forever,” he said, providing the translation. He looked Jack in the eye. “Can you understand what that concept means to a Time Lord? The word was considered one of the foulest obscenities you could utter. And we swore it to each other daily for three centuries.” The tears began to fall again. Running down his face without other signs of crying, as if his eyes had become faucets. “We had a daughter. A grand-daughter. A life.”

“But that was ages ago,” Jack said. “Before he left you.”

“Oh no. He didn’t leave. I was the one to break our vow. I made him what he became. Without me there to stop him…”

“You can’t blame yourself for the direction another man’s life takes,” Jack said sternly.

“Oh but I can. That sound. In his head? The one he used for Archangel?”

Jack nodded. He’d witnessed the Master tapping out those four beats often during that year. He’d been whipped to that rhythm. Raped to that rhythm. Tortured to that rhythm. He tried to push those thoughts back. No matter what the Master had become, the Doctor loved him. His friend was in pain and needed him.

“That sound, the drums, was quiet when we… whenever we were together. It gave him moments of peace. Enough to keep the madness at bay.” The Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose. “And I abandoned him to it.” He looked at Jack, his face lined with guilt and remorse. “So you see, it is my fault.”

“No,” Jack said. “You wouldn’t have left without reason. Not if you loved him that much.”

The Doctor shrugged. “There were reasons. They seemed important at the time. We were growing apart. Our ambitions taking different turns. I didn’t want to… It doesn’t matter now. I left. I took our grand-daughter with me, stole his father’s TARDIS, that one I have out there – it was his father’s, in truth she should belong more to him than me – and I ran. I’m good at running, Jack.” He looked disgusted with himself. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at.”

“Doc, that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” the Doctor said skeptically. “I ran from you, Jack. As fast and as far as I could. I knew you were alive. I knew what had happened to you. And I ran anyway.”

Jack had nothing to say to the truth.

“And I ran from him,” he added sadly. “And now he’s gone. We were supposed to be forever,” he said wistfully.

“But you’d lost him before. Or thought you had.”

“The Time War. The news that he was dead. But everyone was dead. All of them. I killed them all. To grieve my own personal loss seemed… selfish.”

“And then you found him again,” Jack stated.

The Doctor nodded. “It was… I can’t describe it, Jack. All the terrible things he did. To the Earth. To you. I knew he would do them. Not specifics. But we’d been fighting like that for centuries. He’d scheme, I’d stop him. It was the only dance we knew anymore. Neither of us could let the other go but so much had happened… there was no going back, only struggling forward. Yet I always hoped. Always. That he would become what he had been. That he would be my brilliant love again. That if we lived long enough and fought long enough and made love long enough… then the wounds would be healed.” The Doctor stopped speaking and stared silently into the middle distance.

“And now he’s gone,” Jack offered.

“This time I’m certain of it. I burnt his body. I saw the ash. But more than that, I know it. I didn’t feel it before, but I thought that was because of the war. There was so much happening. I thought I just didn’t have time to notice. I was fighting for my life, for the universe. But now I feel it here.” The Doctor touched his hearts with both hands. “With Gallifrey gone, there is no Matrix for him to be stored in. No possibility of our eventual reunion after death. He’s gone. The bond is broken. I am alone.”

The pain in the Doctor’s voice was all-encompassing. “Oh,” was all Jack could manage as he tried to picture two legendary beings, two Time Lords of Gallifrey, bound together with the promise of eternity and now the two only one. It explained so much. Why the Doctor forgave the Master even after all he’d done. After all he’d done to him, Jack could never forgive. The man would always be a monster to him. But to the Doctor? The loss was unimaginable.

Jack reached out and touched the Doctor’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”

The Doctor swallowed and nodded. “Thank you, Jack.” His best girl did know how to take care of him. Just saying those things aloud. Knowing that there was another person in the universe who knew… It was a release. In that moment he made a decision. He stood. “Now, I’d like to pop out to the TARDIS to get something and then if you would, could you have Ianto meet me in your archives. Just Ianto if you don’t mind.”

“Sure Doc, whatever you want, but why?”

“Oh nothing. I just have some old papers and I’d like facsimiles made and stored here. Who knows? Something could happen to the TARDIS someday. Did I ever tell you about when I had to jettison more than half her rooms to keep from falling into the big bang? No? One day remind me. Anyway, if I ever had to do that again, I’d hate for these to be lost.”

“Do you want them sealed?”

“I think they can be open to the head of Torchwood – as long as that’s you,” the Doctor added with a smile. “And to the Archivist. But I’d rather not discuss them, if you don’t mind.”

“All right. I’m sure that Ianto will be delighted to add more knowledge to your file. I’ll have him meet you down there.”

The Doctor stepped in towards Jack. The hug was awkward at first but soon became warm. “Really Jack. Thank you.”

“Any time, Doc.”

----------------

The Doctor and Ianto were mysteriously in the archives for hours, long after everyone else had gone home. Shortly after hearing the grind of the TARDIS’s leaving from the Plass, Jack saw Ianto crawling down the tunnel into his room.

Jack gave him a worried look. His eyes were red and puffy. He’d been crying. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing. It’s just… Those papers the Doctor had. You should read them someday.”

“All right, love, I will.” He held his arms open and Ianto walked into them.

“Jack?”

“Uh hmm?”

“I know you probably don’t want to hear this…”

“You know, I’m getting tired of people starting sentences like that today,” Jack said with a smile.

“I love you, Jack. I’m sorry,” Ianto added quickly. “I know you… I mean, what we have, whatever it is, is great. I don’t want to change anything. Nothing has to change.”

“It’s okay, Yan. It’s okay.” Jack kissed Ianto and hoped with all his heart that his kiss would say what he couldn’t.

Two Love Letters stories for Silvermoon07's birthday...

von_gelmini — Wed, 29 Dec 2010 11:00:49 GMT

Title: Otherstide
Series | Arc: Love Letters | None
Age | Sequence: 21 | before the previous #1
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Theta/Koschei
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1276
Contains: fluff and soppiness
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I am not writing this for profit.

Otherstide

“Koschei?” Theta whispered. “Are you awake?”

Koschei groaned. If he had a credit for every time Theta woke him like that, he’d be richer than his mother.

Theta kissed his boyfriend lightly on the cheek, ignoring his closed eyes and attempts to pretend he was still sleeping. “What’d you get me for Otherstide?”

“Restraints and a gag so you’d let me sleep through the night just once,” Koschei grumbled.

Theta giggled. “That’d be a present for you, not for me.”

“You do this every year.”

“Yes.”

“And do I ever tell you?”

Theta pouted. “No. Not even when I tickle you.”

“Rassilon’s left tit, Theta, I’m trying to sleep. DON’T tickle me.”

“I wasn’t going to. Like I said, it didn’t work last year.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Theta snickered. “What? You don’t want to remember how I tickled you so hard you pissed yourself?”

“Theta Sigma so help me…”

Theta rolled onto his belly and propped himself up, looking at Koschei, who was finally awake. “So?”

“Theta, only Time Tots get presents for Otherstide. We’ve graduated from Prydon last year and are at the Time Lord Academy now. Not exactly Time Tots anymore.”

Theta looked worried. Maybe Koschei was serious. “But I got you something for your birthday.”

Koschei put his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling with a smug grin. “Oh yes you did. And even wrapped it up with a beautiful blue bow.”

Theta laughed. “You seemed to like it at the time.”

“Maybe I’ll get you the same thing.”

“Koschei,” Theta drew out the name in a whine.

“Stop being a child, Theta,” Koschei said, annoyed. He rolled over, turning his back to his lover. “Go to sleep.”

Theta tried to snuggle against Koschei’s back, but the irritated grunt he got made him roll away too.

On Otherstide Eve, all Time Lords stay in their homes. Tradition says that it was to avoid the Wrath of Rassilon as the great Lord President hunted down the renegade Other. No one wanted to be in the mighty Founder’s way, so everyone stayed indoors. The next day the Other was captured and banished from the world, never to be seen again. There was great rejoicing in the Citadel, and this event was marked with parties and festivals ever after.

Throughout the day, many people wished Theta Happy Otherstide. Only Millennia and Drax remembered that the holiday was also his Nameday. Koschei’s attitude that morning had not improved much from the night before. He wished Theta a happy birthday with a kiss, but he wasn’t interested in going down to the fair at the park as they had for every year since they came to the Citadel. That was for children, he’d grumbled. Silly rides and games and hundreds of Time Tots running around high on too many sweets was not Koschei’s idea of a fun time. “Well it’s mine!” Theta had said and headed down to the festivities alone.

He tried to throw himself into the spirit of the holiday. And he succeeded for long moments. But every time something excited him or caught his eye, he’d turn to share the experience with Koschei, only to find his other hand empty and no one at his side.

Theta looked around for anyone he might know, but none of the First-Years were there, nor were any of the Deca. They were all trying to prove themselves to be too grown-up for this sort of fun. He noticed some older students in their robes, seeming to have a good time, but he didn’t know them and as a First-Year himself, he didn’t dare approach.

But he was not about to return to his room after only an hour away and let Koschei have the victory. This was his day and he was going to enjoy it. He pushed all the sour thoughts to the back of his mind and bounded off, finding some children to entertain with simple magic tricks and other games. By the time he next found himself thinking of his stubborn boyfriend, the suns were low in the sky. He found the nearest transmat point and took it back to the quad heading for the dorms.

“Koschei! You’ll never guess…” he started as he flung his door open wide. Their room was dark and Koschei wasn’t there. He switched on the light. A grey envelope was propped up against the lamp on his desk. He recognized Koschei’s writing of his name, always spelled out in formal Gallifreyan instead of written in Greek as was Theta’s own habit. He sat down and opened it.

Theta wiped the tears from his face and smiled. He opened the envelope to put the letter safely back inside and something caught a glint of light. He shook the envelope over his desk and an almost liquid golden chain fell from it. Picking it up, he held it to the light. On each link, almost microscopically, was engraved the intricate symbol that Koschei had drawn -- their names entwined with the eternal Seal of Rassilon.

Quickly Theta undressed and fastened the chain around his neck. Wearing nothing underneath, he put on his heavy formal outer robes and his trainers and ran to his lover, his forever Koschei.

Title: The Last of the Wood
Series | Arc: Love Letters | Eight, Time War
Age: I don’t know… however old Eight was during the Time War
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Eight/Jacobi!Master (young, looking much like he did in I, Claudius [but with better hair!])
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1009
Contains: soppy romance and angst
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I am not writing this for profit.

The Last of the Wood

The Doctor stopped the Master in the busy Citadel corridor. “Come with me a moment, Master.”

“Now is not a good time, Doctor. I’m on my way to meet with the Chancellery Guard about their stations onboard the ship.”

The Doctor put his hand on the other man’s arm. “It can wait a moment, cariad,” he whispered in a language they had not shared for centuries. A language that was now as dead as the people who once spoke it. Without the protection of the Dome, the Outsiders were amongst the first casualties of the induction barrier breech. But the Doctor didn’t want to think about that now. Things had been going so well between him and the Master since the High Council resurrected him. They no longer fought each other, but along side, comrades in arms in this terrible war.

The Master tried very hard not to smile at his adversary. “Very well, I can see you won’t be dissuaded.”

The Doctor didn’t try at all to hide his own smile as he dragged the Master down the passage to his TARDIS.

“Now tell me, Theete,” the Master said once the doors were shut. They’d taken to speaking tenderly when not observed. They’d taken to other tender things also of late. He slid his arms around the Doctor’s waist. “What is this all about?”

The Doctor tilted his head up and kissed his lover. Still took some getting used to, this regeneration being taller than he was. “Happy Birthday, Koschei.”

The Master laughed and rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell, Theta. We’re in the middle of a fucking war. Time and place.”

Not to be put off, he walked around to the pilot’s chair and handed the Master the wrapped box that sat there. “I got you a present,” he said with a grin.

“Where in Omega’s name did you… There isn’t a thing to spare in the Citadel. How did you find something?”

“Remember when you were on trial on Skaro?”

The Master began to carefully unseal the embossed silver-grey paper. “Hard to forget,” he said.

“The Time Lords took possession of your TARDIS after your imprisonment in that box. But as I was next-of-kin, they gave me your personal effects.”

The Master arched an eyebrow at his husband. “And you’re just now telling me? Why didn’t you give them back before now?”

The Doctor shrugged. “Forgot all about it, actually. Until I stumbled on the storeroom they were in the other day, and found that.”

“So what you’re saying is that you got me my own things as a birthday present?”

“Well when you put it like that…” the Doctor said, disappointed.

The Master shook his head with a smile. “I swear, Theete…” Finally the elaborate wrapping was off and inside was an ornately carved wooden box. Kaden wood. It was ancient, but it was one of the last Kaden wood artifacts left on Gallifrey, as the forests had burnt in the previous month’s attack. “It’s beautiful. Thank you. But this wasn’t mine.”

“No. Your box was broken. I found you a new one… mine. Only I took my things out and put yours in.”

What could the Doctor have stored in such a handsome box, the Master wondered. What thing, that had once belonged to him after all, had his lover decided warranted such a precious coffer? Slowly, drawing out the anticipation – because he was truly touched by the Doctor’s gesture – he opened the box.

He drew in a sharp breath when he saw what was inside. Nothing of value and yet priceless at the same time. “I thought…” his voice caught as he fought back tears. “I thought these were gone forever.” He reached his hand into the box and lightly touched the crisp vellum paper within.

Tears flowed freely down the Doctor’s face. “I didn’t know you’d kept them. All those years. All my letters. I never thought to look in your things… but I saw the broken box and… they were spilling out. I couldn’t help but look.”

Seeing his love, his Doctor, his precious Theta, crying was too much for the Master. He gently set the box down and gathered the other man into his arms. His own tears dampened the Doctor’s soft blond curls. “I never forgot, Theete. I just never thought we’d be together again.” He leaned back from the Doctor and brushed his hair out of his face. Whenever the man had long hair, it was forever getting in his eyes. The Master smiled at the memories. “But what did you have in the box before you gave it to me?” he asked, knowing the answer but still wanting to hear it.

“Your letters, Kosch. Every one.” The Doctor blinked and swallowed trying not to cry again. “I…” It was hard to say after so many centuries denying it. “I never stopped loving you. And now… now we have a chance, don’t you think?”

The Master nodded. “If we can survive this bloody war.”

The Doctor gave a sad smile. The risks they each took every day… “You’re Koschei the Deathless, remember?” He gave his lover a peck on the lips. “And we’re forever.”

“My Theta,” Koschei said, kissing the Doctor fully.

Breathless, they parted the kiss. “Yours…” the Doctor began, only to have his words taken away by the sound of an alarm loud enough to be heard through the TARDIS doors.

“Fuck, that’s me,” the Master said. Just before he took off out the door, he looked back at his beloved husband. “Tonight, Doctor. When I get back.”

And then he was gone, his present forgotten on the pilot’s seat. But that was okay; the Doctor would save it for him and give it to him when they met later that night. After the Cruciform’s test voyage. It wouldn’t take long, just orbit and then back down until the last of the supplies and ammunition could be loaded. Then they’d have a few days before the Master had to take her into battle and the Doctor had to manipulate the timestream to provide it a clear path to the center of the conflict. Then the war would be over. And then… then they could begin again.

Want (Ten/Simm!Master, NC-17, stand-alone)

von_gelmini — Tue, 28 Dec 2010 09:37:57 GMT

Title: Want
Characters and/or Pairings: Ten/Simm!Master
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Explicit sex, mentions non-explicit past dub/non-con
Summary: Post-the YTNW, the Master awakes on the Doctor’s TARDIS
Notes: in an AU, the Master doesn’t die on the Valiant but is rescued by the Doctor and brought to the TARDIS.
Word Count: roughly 2k

Written as a dwsanta fic for silvermoon07

A/N: A stand-alone, or could be considered an AU with the LLs series as a background influence.

MASTER:
You still haven't answered the question. What happens to me?

DOCTOR:
You're my responsibility from now on. The only Time Lord left in existence.

JACK:
(goes to DOCTOR) Yeah, but you can't trust him.

DOCTOR:
No. The only safe place for him is the TARDIS.

MASTER:
You mean you're just gonna…keep me?

DOCTOR:
Hmm. If that's what I have to do. (looks to JACK) It's time to change.
Maybe I've been wandering for too long. Now I'll have someone to care for.

----------------------------------------

Someone to care for, the Doctor thought as he kept vigil beside the sickbay bed on which the Master lay.

Regenerate! No... I refuse.

Damn him.

Regenerate! How about that? I win.

Insufferable git.

An alarm went off. The Master was going into cardiac arrest. His left heart had stopped working earlier and now his right was giving out. The Doctor ran for the crash cart, thanking providence for a well-stocked Gallifreyan med bay. Knocking whatever got in his way to the side; he raced back to the Master’s pale body, placed four leads on his chest and gave him a shock of electricity. The monitor beeped slowly and then more steadily. The right heart had started again, but not the left. He didn’t dare shock him again though as it could worsen the situation.

The Master wasn’t going to survive or get better with only one heart working. Well, if it was worth it to revive the last surviving TARDIS, it was worth it to revive the last surviving Time Lord other than himself. The Doctor leaned over the Master’s face. He slipped the oxygen cannulae from his nostrils. Gathering the energy from within him, the Doctor slowly breathed out the golden glow of his artron life-force. Five years, ten, twenty, fifty...

The Master gasped a ragged breath. His eyes flew open, wide with fear. “No!”

“It’s all right,” the Doctor said. “You’re alive and safe.”

“Oh just bloody perfect,” the Master said sarcastically.

“I should’ve left you lying there dead?”

The Master smirked. “There is always a plan B.”

“Ah. I should’ve guessed. Sorry to have spoiled your plans,” the Doctor said without sincerity.

“If you needed a pet to keep you from being alone, you should’ve rescued a Gallifreyan cat before you destroyed our home-world.” It never took the Master long to figure out what the Doctor’s buttons were in any particular regeneration. As always he played them for maximum effect.

“I had no choice! I explained that to you.”

“What is it you’ve told me? There is always a choice. The Doctor: Destroyer of Worlds. Sounds good on you. Almost as good as it sounds on me.”

The Doctor ran his fingers through his tousled hair and gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re just trying to provoke me.”

“Figured that out already? You really are a genius.”

The Doctor chuckled, which, judging from the glare he got, was not the response the Master had been going for.

“So where are we?” the Master asked.

“Nowherewhen.”

“You can’t just hide in the vortex forever. Eventually you’ll have to land and refuel. I’ll escape. I always do.”

“Not this time,” the Doctor said with determination.

“Every time.”

“You are too dangerous to the universe this time.”

The Master snorted and looked at the Doctor incredulously. “And I wasn’t before? Are you forgetting...?”

“I don’t ever forget, Master. Not anything.”

“Neither do I, Theta.”

The Doctor’s back stiffened. No matter how often their paths crossed in alliance or peace, how many attempts might’ve been made, it always came down to this: The Master could not forgive the Doctor for leaving him. He’d had no choice, he told himself often in the passing centuries. Of course you had a choice. No. Things had changed too much between them. He couldn’t go on as they had so long ago. But there was hardly a day when he didn’t regret it, where he didn’t wish that things had turned out differently.

“I can help you,” the Doctor said.

The Master’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline.

“Let me try.”

“I’m not a child anymore,” the Master said with contempt. “I’m not going to cling to your shirttails and let you control me.”

“No, no. Not that. Kosch, I’ve spent centuries studying...”

“Oh and that never occurred to me. Remember, I’m smarter than you.”

“Not about this. You lack perspective.”

“You don’t believe in them. You always just humored me. They’re real. The drums. The constant drumming. Always there. Sometimes quiet, sometimes loud. But they never go away.”

“They used to,” the Doctor said quietly.

“I will not be your pet.”

“Not a pet, but...”

“I won’t be your lover, either. That never gets us anywhere. I’d have thought you realized that during the past year.”

The Doctor couldn’t help a disappointed look cross his face. “That was hardly being lovers.”

“Worked for me,” the Master said with a leer. “You too, if you’d just admit it to yourself.” He’d had enough of lying back in the damned sickbed. He swung his legs over the side and sat up, eye to eye with the Doctor. “You were fucking gagging for it and you know it.”

The Doctor reddened. “Yes, I wanted you,” he admitted. “But not like that.”

The Master laughed loudly. “Exactly like that little Theete.” He reached out and grabbed the Doctor’s wrist before the other man could move away. He tightened his grip painfully. “Exactly like you always have.”

The Doctor whimpered, but whether it was in pain or something else, he couldn’t say. “I’m not a child anymore.” With a quick snap, he pulled his hand from the Master’s grasp. He stepped between the other Time Lord’s legs. Lightning fast he reached around behind him and grabbed the Master’s hair. He pulled his head back and stepped even closer. “You want me. You’ve spent your entire life trying to get my attention. Well you have it.” He pulled the Master into a bruising kiss, holding tightly, fully expecting a struggle.

And not getting one.

The Master’s lips parted to the Doctor’s probing tongue. He let the Doctor have the upper hand just long enough for him to stop being startled and give himself wholeheartedly over to claiming the Master’s mouth. Then the Master kissed back with equal ferocity, reaching his hands up to twine in the Doctor’s spiky hair, to pull him impossibly even closer. He bit the Doctor’s pouty lower lip and was countered with the taste of his own blood as the Doctor returned the bite. He tore at the Doctor’s clothes only to hear his own shirt buttons skitter across the deck. And when the Doctor’s fingers brushed across his tented trousers, seeking his flies, the Master groaned. His own hands sought the Doctor’s trousers and made quick work of his belt and flies, yanking them down to his knees. His hands left the Doctor’s hair and gripped his round buttocks hard pulling him in to grind their hard cocks together.

The Doctor reached between them and gripped both of their erections in his long-fingered hand, rubbing them together, stroking them with a rough, desperate need. He broke the kiss and buried his face in the crook of the Master’s neck, gasping for breath. His mouth sought skin and sucked bruises on the tender flesh. The Master bit down on his shoulder and the Doctor moaned loudly.

“I was wondering when you’d meet me as my equal,” the Master growled. “Mine.”

“Mine,” the Doctor said emphatically.

“Exactly.” The Master sucked a breath between his teeth as the Doctor’s fingers played across the head of his cock. “I want to fuck you.”

“I want you to.” The Doctor fidgeted with his feet, trying to toe his shoes off while not losing grip on either his hand on their cocks or his mouth the Master’s throat. He kicked off his pants and trousers and broke the touch, climbing onto the narrow hospital bed. He lay on his back and stared at the Master with an expression of pure lust. “You’re going to fuck me because I want it.”

The Master understood the distinction. Couldn’t not, because here was his Doctor, his Theta, finally admitting what he wanted, what he needed. Not just giving in, not just letting himself be used, not just passively accepting his fate for the good of some worthless aliens somewhere. Here was his Doctor wanting him. Wanting him like he hadn’t since... That didn’t matter anymore. He met the Doctor’s eyes with his own as he lowered himself on top of the other man. “I don’t need you,” he hissed. He kissed the Doctor’s open mouth. “I want you.”

The Doctor reached his hand down to grab their cocks again and the revelation washed over both of them. It would never be like it was before. They weren’t who they were before. The past faded away before their very present present. They were getting a second chance.

The Master reached for the tube of medical lubricant on the prep tray and passed it to the Doctor. He slicked the Master’s cock and then raised his legs to his chest, spreading himself for entry. After the past year, he was hardly a virgin, but it still hurt when the Master plunged into him. He opened his mouth and gasped. “Yes!” he cried out. “Oh fuck yes!” Okay, so that hadn’t changed. He smiled and the Master laughed.

Part of him still wanted to gloat, to drip the bitter acid of his words over the Doctor. But this was so different. The Doctor grabbed at his arms, clutched his arse, pulled him deeper into him, fought back with his own desires. It was too much to ruin with a moment’s chance to win. He was winning anyway. Winning the only prize he’d ever wanted. He slammed into the Doctor with deliberateness. Of course he remembered just how his lover liked it. How could he forget? But this was so different. Every scream he wrenched wasn’t just for his benefit it was for the Doctor’s own need. He aimed his strokes to rub across the Doctor’s prostate again and again until the man became incoherent with pleasure, moaning his name over and over. His chosen name. The one the Doctor never liked to use before. The Master bit down on his own lip to control his nearing orgasm.

“Oh fuck, Master!” the Doctor cried out again.

The Master knew his lover was on the edge of tipping over the edge. “Co...”

“Don’t say it!” The Doctor glared at him.

The Doctor’s intensity was like a new drug for him. The Master gripped the back of the Doctor’s legs, pushing them back, opening him up to his deeper thrusts. “Doctor,” the Master panted, feeling the hot tightness surround him and then tighten as the Doctor came. The pulse of his arse as his cock spasmed, spilling come between them was almost too much, but the Master held back until the last of the Doctor’s shuddering orgasm had passed. He looked down at his lover, at his husband. Long, dark lashes resting on flushed cheeks, his hair damp with sweat, the scent of sex rolling off of him, his pulse beating hard and fast beneath the skin of his throat, the glow of energy just below the sheen of his skin – all fading into contented bliss. He was beautiful, more beautiful than he had ever been. His eyes open, the Master grew drunk on the sight as he filled the Doctor’s arse with his orgasm and called out his name.

The Doctor held the Master, feeling his ragged breaths and pounding hearts against his chest. He stroked his head. “I never stopped loving you,” he whispered. “I never stopped wanting you.”

The Master raised himself on his elbows and gave the Doctor a smug smile.

The other man rolled his eyes. “You are an insufferable git.”

“And you love it.”

“Yes, I suppose I do,” the Doctor admitted with a smile.

“You do have a shower on this thing somewhere?”

“It might be cold. She’s not too fond of you right now,” the Doctor said.

The Master eased himself off of his lover. “Since your girlfriend won’t freeze you, you’ll just have to take a shower with me,” he said with a smirk.

The Doctor grinned widely. “Well then, allons-y!”

Run (Love Letters, Theta/Koschei, PG)

von_gelmini — Fri, 10 Dec 2010 05:24:09 GMT

Title: Run
Series: Love Letters
Age | Sequence: 32 | 3
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Theta/Koschei
Rating: PG
Word Count: 100
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I am not writing this for profit.

Run

He knows when I want to run. When I’m scared. When it’s all too much and I think that if I don’t GET OUT I’m going to go insane.

A look or a word or just a sigh and I know I can run to him. He’ll take me in his arms. He lets me writhe and wriggle to be just CLOSE. He’ll smile and tease me but I know if I stopped he’d be miserable!

He kisses me and touches my hair and his fingers brush my cheek. And in my entire world there is just one word…

Koschei.