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When he’d first seen it, he’d thought it was some sort of illusion. Then he remembered they were surrounded by non-Gallifreyans. Lesser species who couldn’t possibly imagine what it meant, who likely assumed the celery was an alien ‘quirk’. THEN he remembered that he was the only other Gallifreyan who The Doctor even semi-regularly saw…
It wasn’t as if the fool visited unless the council had gotten themselves into one problem or another. So, he reasoned, The Doctor was trying to send HIM a message. Perhaps that was egocentric, but… well he was The Master.
The second time he saw it would be on his terms.
He sent a psychic wave out, into the vortex, just vague enough so he knew it would be answered, and waited.
The Doctor stepped into the tearoom. Alone (good) and cautious.
He gestured for his best enemy to sit down. “I have done you the courtesy of ordering for us already, my dear.”
“What do you…” The Doctors’ eyes fixed on the daffodil petals pinned on The Masters' lapel. “I see.” He sat down and poured a cup of tea. “Peppermint!” He smiled.
He scoffed. “Your ridiculous herbal nonsense.”
The Doctor raised a brow and sipped on his drink. “We both know you have a sweet tooth.”
He wrinkled his nose.
The blond leant forward on his chair. “Are you going to be… ‘difficult’…” he watched The Master carefully “about all of this?” something dark dancing in his own eyes “because I can work with that.”
The Master felt his face flush, his Trakenite heart thundering against his ribs. He’d mostly set this up out of curiosity, to see The Doctor ‘dominate’, but now… Now he wanted nothing more than to be “worked with”. To be fucked completely until he could only remember Doctor, Doctor, Doctor…
“You’re looking rather red there, Master.” The Doctor curled his lip over the teacup.
He quickly grabbed his own tea, hiding his face with steam. “The tea is hot.” He half-lied. “This body is more sensitive to temperature changes than that of a Gallifreyan one.”
This was a mistake. Not only was it true, but it made The Doctors’ head tilt. “Interesting.” Was all he said. He looked round the tearoom. Smiling at the staff, waiting for The Master to speak.
The Master gulped down his tea. “My TARDIS?”
“Hmm.” The Doctor shook his head. “Mine.” He stood up, offering an arm to his enemy.
The Master hesitated, but accepted. Walking arm-in-arm through the village streets to the tall blue box, allowing the door to be held open for him, to guide him through the corridors, into what was clearly The Doctors’ bedroom.
The fact of even being allowed there sent The Master dizzy. There were scattered pieces of The Doctor everywhere he looked. Stars, it SMELT of The Doctor, his Doctor, only The Doctor… who must have felt him inhale and brought a hand up to his face. He leant into it, holding him steady. The Doctor pressed him down, pushing him to sit on the bed, standing above. Golden hair sparkling in the TARDIS lights.
The Doctor stepped back, folding his arms, pacing round the room. “Clothes off if you please.” He ruffled through some drawers, collecting something that he hid just out of view on the mattress.
The Master obliged. He could hear The Doctor climb up behind him. Breath upon his neck, fingers dancing up his waist. His lips were taken in the achingly gentle embrace of his Doctor, gasping in these weak Trakenite lungs. The Doctor snaked an arm up his chest, dancing over his nipple for a second before giving it a sharp twist.
He pushed down a whine, biting on his tongue.
The Doctor ground his trousered hips against The Masters’ rear. One hand clutching black hair, tugging. The other pushing his enemy into the rhythm. He speckled kisses down The Masters’ neck, onto his shoulder.
“Now we have nothing to say?” the blond chuckled. “What happened to that silver tongue?”
The Master clenched his jaw. “Doctor…” his aching cock was in desperate need of attention, pooling heat round his groin.
The Doctor yanked his face round. “That’ll do.” Then let go.
Without warning, The Master found himself roughly manoeuvred onto the bed, onto his stomach, head nestled into the pillows. Breathing in The Doctors’ scent. He heard a belt coming undone and instinctively turned his head to see the time lord- stroking himself with one hand. And in the other… leather straps.
He looked at The Master. “I didn’t say we could look, did I, mm?”
“What do you want me to do?” Mistake. He’d aimed for suave but hit pathetic.
“I’d like you,” The Doctor climbed up onto his back, straddling him, smiling oh-so-politely. “To lay on my bed and behave.” He started attaching The Masters’ wrists and ankles to the bedposts, before finally shoving his head down. “Now what do YOU want me to do to you?” he breathed into his old friends’ ear.
That in itself almost made The Master cum (shameful). He scrambled for words, spluttering, squirming against the bonds.
“Oh I am really very sorry about any discomfort, my slut.”
He could not restrain the moan, but buried his face deeper into the pillows- that smelt of The Doctor- and fuck. Fuck fuck fuck he came.
It was clear The Doctor noticed. “I actually had a lot more planned-”
“Shut up.”
“Who knew it would be that easy.”
“I said-”
“So you still believe you’re in charge, here?” The Doctors’ hands were flirting with his neck. “You want this to be over so soon?”
He felt the hard cock on his back and bit his lip. “Continue.”
“Manners, Master, manners.” The Doctor teased, tracing his fingers to his own member- pumping it to its’ full length. “Now.” He gripped firm on the shapely arse. “I would love to be kind to you, but we both know you’re incapable of respect.”
“What are you…” The Master struggled to hide the mix of apprehension and arousal rising in his voice. “What do you have in mind?” He heard a bottle squeeze.
“It would be ungentlemanly not to.” The Doctor muttered.
He winced at the thought that his best enemy had been considering the alternative, then winced again at the hard slap on his rear. Another slap connected and his skin fizzed with need, the need of his Doctor to consumefillruinPLEASE-
He felt The Doctors’ consciousness meet his and knew he’d been caught.
“Say it.” The blond smacked him again. “Ask nicely, and I might.”
He growled.
The Doctor dug his nails in, eliciting a whine. “Let me make this clear.” He continued. “I am perfectly capable of ejaculating right here, atop you.”
The Master was nearly fully hard again. He was sweating and dizzy and shit. His mind was always so loud just “Please.” He whimpered. “Doctor.”
Almost instantly The Doctor thrust into him, fast. He yelped. The Doctor leant down, planting kisses up his spine, causing him to shudder, wrapping hands round his neck. The Doctor started up a breakneck pace. Riding them both to a brilliant, blinding, summit. The Masters’ vision blurred as fingers squeezed his neck.
“Yes.” He gasped through the sensation. “Yes PLEASE…” With no respiratory bypass, he was left freefalling.
“Good boy.” The Doctor drawled, slamming into him with such aggression that he couldn’t restrain his moans.
Tighter and tighter and faster- the fantastic pain of it all rising red hot.
The Doctor came deep into him, the waves of psychic pleasure ricochet between them and The Master orgasmed. Several minutes passed with his Doctor still inside him, softly stroking his hair, whispering such beautiful things in his ear. Eventually, the leather straps were undone and The Doctor curled up next to him on the other side of the bed.
He shuffled over so they were facing each other. And oh, The Doctors’ face was that of pure bliss.
“My dear Doctor.” He mumbled, reaching out a hand to stroke his old friends’ cheek.
The Doctor smiled, leaning forward and pecking him quickly on the lips. “Any complaints?”
He chuckled. “Requests, perhaps…” he ran his hand through the glorious golden hair. “For your future consideration.”
“If you behave…” The Doctor kissed him again. Lingering longer this time. “We can arrange something.”
“Mm…” he could never agree to The Doctors’ terms and yet he could never resist. This weakness. He sighed and rolled off the bed, slinking off toward the bathroom.
“Master?”
“I can’t compromise my core being for…” He paused at the bathroom door. “I appreciated this.”
“I understand.”
He set the shower to freezing. Forcing the smell of The Doctor off his skin in sharp, scraping blasts of ice.
A hot tear threatened his face but was quickly washed away, falling into the depths of The Doctors’ TARDIS.
tinyestark Wed 19 Nov 2025 11:30PM UTC
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surprisinglygoodstaffcanteen Wed 19 Nov 2025 11:39PM UTC
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