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"Turlough!" the newest arrival came bounding, gazelle-like, towards Turlough and (— was it… a– a light? —), before he could react, had cupped the side of his face with a startling degree of tenderness, and begun kissing him with incredibly soft lips.
Soft, the way his Doctor's hands were soft; Soft, the way his Doctor's lips weren't.
Startled, Turlough didn't react at first. The kiss was tender and gentle, with none of the accustomed fierceness, hardness, of "his" Doctor – yet it was nice. Turlough's body responded automatically, his mouth opening slightly, and this older Doctor deepened the kiss, tongue inside Turlough's mouth, hand moving around to cup the back of his head, passionate and leaving Turlough breathless.
And then they pulled away.
Turlough blinked.
He glanced over at his Doctor beside him, and realized he was glaring daggers at the elder version of himself. His familiar hand came to rest on Turlough's shoulder, (—Funny thing, time travel, isn't it? —) and he pulled him closer to himself, eyes never leaving those of the other.
*
Chill, I'm literally you. the older Doctor chided in the younger Doctor's head. The younger Doctor frowned back mentally.
Turlough's mine.
{laughter like golden honey, like a babbling brook} Alright, alright.
Quite.
*
this is all there was actually time for, because at this point the older Doctor switched their attention to Constance Clark, and the banter she was engaged in with the other Doctor, the one dressed in that unbelievably tacky coat. (Turlough couldn't believe the Doctor would ever actually wear that, and when he said as much his Doctor cringed, while the other one looked indignantly offended, puffing up like a blowfish to glare at him.)
This is all there was actually time for, but sometimes, time folds itself like paper stars, and when you unfold it you discover it held all sorts of secrets and pockets of time that you didn't see before.
Like — six months of Nyssa, when she came back. Out of timeline, out of joint, but more important than anything you could ever see at first glance. Indeed, it's the reason anybody is who they are at all.
Like nearly a year for the Doctor and Turlough to find their way to each others' bodies, all neatly bookended between the Eye of Orion and Sea Base 4. Yes, it looks like it happened fast, but I'm reality, it was oh so slow.
Like three years of this, just the Doctor and Turlough, boys traveling about on their own after Tegan left them. Oh yes, it's been a while, for all that wound still aches.
And so, in that time-that-isn't-time, there was plenty of room for this:
Turlough's Doctor pulling him into a passionate, heady kiss, hands underneath his shirt and gripping him firmly around the waist, heat and need coursing through him, and all the while he glared at the other Doctor over Turlough's head.
That Doctor – shorter than he's used to, the same height as Turlough himself — gently pulling Turlough away and towards them, Turlough passing from one to the other so smoothly it's like they never even broke the kiss.
The older Doctor's tongue slipping into Turlough's mouth, smiling against his teeth. The younger Doctor still holding him even as the older Doctor's arms also encircle him.
(Arms arms arms.
arms and arms and arms and
arms.)
Is this how it works? Was he reaching through time with other selves, every time he held Turlough with too many arms?
Maybe, or maybe it didn't matter.
Turlough floated on a wave, held up by all those arms, and the Doctors kissed him and petted him and stroked him in places he didn't even know existed. And they kissed each other; the younger hard and angry, almost pushing them away as the other laughed gently into his mouth, arms still wrapped around Turlough.
Turlough sighing, tilting his head back, and the older, long haired Doctor catching it, an arm cupping his neck before they swooped down to kiss him gently, softly, while his younger Doctor ground against him.
Turlough sandwiched between them, crushed but still somehow able to breathe, hot bodies pressed against him from in front and behind. His Doctor's big hard cock grinding against his own, which responds; the other's smaller hard cock pressing into his ass.
(and arms and arms and arms and
arms and
arms.)
And then the universe ending, as it always does, as it always is, and Turlough shaking himself, breathless and dazed. He stood alone. The Doctors and the others were talking. Maybe this all happened in their heads.
Who knows.
But it did happen.