Doctor Who fic
Title: Something Must Break (1/2)
Author: acidpenguin46
Pairing: Doctor/Master
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,607
Warning: Dark themes, adult situations, sexual references
Summary: If you play with fire, you're going to get burnt.
Disclaimer: None of it is mine, it all belongs to the BBC.
Notes: A few people asked for a sequel to Reflections, so here it is. The title is taken from the Joy Division song of the same name.
Something Must Break
Glimpses in the dark. The smallest hint of a retreating back, leaving as soon as The Master entered the room. It was almost as though the Doctor could sense when he was approaching. He hadn’t seen the Doctor’s actual face for some time. This avoidance made his plan somewhat more difficult. In spite of all the room available in the TARDIS, he had never felt as confined as he did now. He’d been incarcerated here for too long, stuck without even the smallest trace of other life, just him and the shadow that the Doctor left in his wake, floating in the dark abyss of sheer nothingness. The complete inactivity was driving him even more insane, his bored mind wandering from one idle thing to another in restless flights of indecision. The Doctor should have known by now that a bored Master was never a good thing.
The Master had always held a deep fascination for fire. The intoxicating flames, passing down their verdict of annihilation upon whatever they touched. When he came across a box of matches in the deserted TARDIS study, it was like all of his birthday’s had come at once. A plan emerged, fully formed, in his mind, and for the first time in a while that appetite for destruction within had found an outlet. The Master liked to play with fire, and it didn’t even matter if he ended up burnt. He could feel the predator within, poised for action. The Doctor couldn’t avoid him forever.
He waited, leaning nonchalantly against the wall next to an open door, the back of his head and upper back pressing against the smooth wood paneling of the deserted bedroom while one slender thigh was stretched taut underneath his smooth black suit trousers, the leg bent at the knee so as to balance his foot on the top of the skirting board. He knew he wouldn’t have to wait long and sure enough the Doctor hastily entered the room, eyes darting at the burgeoning flames rising from the pile of paper in the corner of the room, his breath coming in short, wheezing gasps. Wild eyes surveyed the room until they landed upon the Master as his eyes glittered in amusement. “Isn’t it beautiful, Doctor?”
He couldn’t help but smirk as the Doctor addressed him, still trying to avoid actually having to look at the Master. “What are you doing?”
He affected an air of mocking innocence. “I was bored.” He smiled as the Doctor finally turned towards him, his face creased in something akin to disappointment, before he started to make his move towards the incandescent flames. The Master almost lazily slipped his hand into his front pocket, pulling out a sleek black metal contraption and placing the open end against the back of the Doctor’s retreating neck. He pressed the button on the contraptions handle and the maniacal grin on his face was illuminated in the vivid blue light of the taser, as volts of electricity ran through the Doctor’s body, rendering him unconscious. The Master giggled as the other man’s body collapsed to the ground.
He straddled the Doctor’s still body, ignoring the fire burning in the corner as his knees rested on the bed on both sides of the Doctor’s thighs, while he waited for the awakening of the unconscious man. Soon enough large brown eyes blinked open in confusion, eventually settling on the man towering above them. The Doctor didn’t struggle against him, but then again the Master didn’t really expect him to. Gently he picked up the Doctor’s fingers with his hands, bringing them upwards to rest against the Master’s temples. He looked directly into the Doctor’s faltering gaze and whispered, “Do you want to remove them, Doctor?” He began to move the Doctor’s fingertips in a circular motion, closing his eyes as those long fingers unwillingly massaged his pressure points. “Do you want to take away the drums, make me normal?” His eyes flashed open upon the last word, and he stared frenetically at the man below him.
The Doctor grunted, and tilted his head to the side to avoid the burning glare. “I know you won’t let me.”
He grinned. “Good. You’re learning.” The Doctor ignored him, so he continued. “Now if only you could get it through your thick skull that you know exactly how it feels. You have no drums, Doctor, just the little hidden voice, the leprechaun on your shoulder that tells you to burn things.”
The Doctor snorted. “A Simpson’s reference? I would’ve thought Earth cartoons were beneath you.”
The Master ignored him. “Even now you can see the flames as they devour, and yet you don’t throw me off of you to stop them.” He tilted his head to the side. “Why is that, Doctor?” Still holding the other man’s hands against his head, he lowered his body towards the figure beneath him, leaning in against the Doctor’s ear and whispered in a tauntingly rough voice. “You know you want to hear them, Doctor. All you have to do is open my mind and listen.”
He closed his eyes as he felt those fingers tremble against him, dancing against the precipice of a cliff he hadn’t approached in a long time. He could feel the Doctor as he began to hesitantly penetrate his mind, lingering in their shared memories, spanning from childhood to their time in the Valiant, as the constant throbbing of the Master’s drums clenched around him. He could tell that the overwhelming clatter was taking its toll on the other man, unused as he was to the call of the drums. The Doctor’s body was tense below him, as though he was trying his hardest not to collapse from the constant thrumming sensations.
The Master released the Doctor’s fingers but they remained where they were, his mind lost in the depths of the Master. He placed his own fingers against the other man’s face and felt the slight sheen of perspiration under his fingers as he closed his eyes and gently began his own probing. He glided past the debris of the Doctor’s mind, past his foolish heroics, his mingling with the man apes, until he found that little dark spot restrained in the back of the Doctor’s mind. He lingered on its restraints, tugging gently and hearing the Doctor whimper below him. The tugging became more violent and the ardent desire to break the dark spot free of its chains almost overwhelmed him. He could feel the Doctor, his body tense and coiled as though he was ready to pounce. The chains began to loosen under the Master’s hands, and as they fell apart he felt the Doctor quiver beneath his legs.
The Doctor’s body stilled, and suddenly the Master felt the other man’s hands leave his face and grasp his shoulders, using his elbows as leverage as he flipped their positions so that the other man’s body now hovered over his own. He smirked as the Doctor leant in and devoured his mouth. The fire raged in the background, forgotten, as that mouth battled against his own, the telltale sign of an emerging erection pressing against his thigh and the Doctor’s mouth claiming the Master’s as his own. He felt the Doctor’s nails claw recklessly into his scalp, as his mouth was violently penetrated with the other man’s tongue in it’s desperate search for every spot in his mouth that had him bucking up against the man above him. Teeth clashed and bit down against puckered flesh, and soon they were both lost in a sea of mingled spit and blood. Oxygen dwindled and soon the Master withdrew his mouth from the war, panting heavily as he looked up into the Doctor’s eyes from beneath lowered lids, his lashes fanning against his cheekbones. “You heard them.” It wasn’t a question but the Doctor still nodded in reply, his breathing still too heavy to form any actual words.
“What did they tell you to do?”
The Doctor grinned at him, his eyes glimmering dangerously. “Destroy.”
The fire burned all around them, its orange glow reflecting in their eyes as the world before them unraveled in magnificent flame. He didn’t need to look at the face of the man next to him to know exactly how he was feeling. He knew only to well the sensation of adrenaline pumping through your veins at a million miles per second and the lust for complete destruction mounting, impatiently waiting to burst. He could feel that this is what the Doctor was experiencing in the tenseness of the other man’s hand, trembling within the grasp of his own, and in the way his body was coiled in complete immobility next to him. They watched from the open TARDIS doors as this unknown planet smouldered in the darkness, and he knew that the blood that was on his hands had now violated the Doctor’s, and the other man knew just how good that could feel. He turned to observe the demented, power-drunk smile on the face of the other Timelord, watching as the other man mirrored his actions. “What do you think Doctor?” A hand lazily reached up around his head, fingers gripping his short hair, desperately trying to gain a hold. He watched as that face, vacant except for a glimmer of insanity, slowly closed the narrow gap between their mouths. The Master smirked, and as he felt that hand violently tug his head backwards and bringing it into sickening contact with the doorframe behind him, the smirk didn’t even have time to leave his face as he slumped to the floor, unconscious.
Author: acidpenguin46
Pairing: Doctor/Master
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,607
Warning: Dark themes, adult situations, sexual references
Summary: If you play with fire, you're going to get burnt.
Disclaimer: None of it is mine, it all belongs to the BBC.
Notes: A few people asked for a sequel to Reflections, so here it is. The title is taken from the Joy Division song of the same name.
Something Must Break
Glimpses in the dark. The smallest hint of a retreating back, leaving as soon as The Master entered the room. It was almost as though the Doctor could sense when he was approaching. He hadn’t seen the Doctor’s actual face for some time. This avoidance made his plan somewhat more difficult. In spite of all the room available in the TARDIS, he had never felt as confined as he did now. He’d been incarcerated here for too long, stuck without even the smallest trace of other life, just him and the shadow that the Doctor left in his wake, floating in the dark abyss of sheer nothingness. The complete inactivity was driving him even more insane, his bored mind wandering from one idle thing to another in restless flights of indecision. The Doctor should have known by now that a bored Master was never a good thing.
The Master had always held a deep fascination for fire. The intoxicating flames, passing down their verdict of annihilation upon whatever they touched. When he came across a box of matches in the deserted TARDIS study, it was like all of his birthday’s had come at once. A plan emerged, fully formed, in his mind, and for the first time in a while that appetite for destruction within had found an outlet. The Master liked to play with fire, and it didn’t even matter if he ended up burnt. He could feel the predator within, poised for action. The Doctor couldn’t avoid him forever.
He waited, leaning nonchalantly against the wall next to an open door, the back of his head and upper back pressing against the smooth wood paneling of the deserted bedroom while one slender thigh was stretched taut underneath his smooth black suit trousers, the leg bent at the knee so as to balance his foot on the top of the skirting board. He knew he wouldn’t have to wait long and sure enough the Doctor hastily entered the room, eyes darting at the burgeoning flames rising from the pile of paper in the corner of the room, his breath coming in short, wheezing gasps. Wild eyes surveyed the room until they landed upon the Master as his eyes glittered in amusement. “Isn’t it beautiful, Doctor?”
He couldn’t help but smirk as the Doctor addressed him, still trying to avoid actually having to look at the Master. “What are you doing?”
He affected an air of mocking innocence. “I was bored.” He smiled as the Doctor finally turned towards him, his face creased in something akin to disappointment, before he started to make his move towards the incandescent flames. The Master almost lazily slipped his hand into his front pocket, pulling out a sleek black metal contraption and placing the open end against the back of the Doctor’s retreating neck. He pressed the button on the contraptions handle and the maniacal grin on his face was illuminated in the vivid blue light of the taser, as volts of electricity ran through the Doctor’s body, rendering him unconscious. The Master giggled as the other man’s body collapsed to the ground.
He straddled the Doctor’s still body, ignoring the fire burning in the corner as his knees rested on the bed on both sides of the Doctor’s thighs, while he waited for the awakening of the unconscious man. Soon enough large brown eyes blinked open in confusion, eventually settling on the man towering above them. The Doctor didn’t struggle against him, but then again the Master didn’t really expect him to. Gently he picked up the Doctor’s fingers with his hands, bringing them upwards to rest against the Master’s temples. He looked directly into the Doctor’s faltering gaze and whispered, “Do you want to remove them, Doctor?” He began to move the Doctor’s fingertips in a circular motion, closing his eyes as those long fingers unwillingly massaged his pressure points. “Do you want to take away the drums, make me normal?” His eyes flashed open upon the last word, and he stared frenetically at the man below him.
The Doctor grunted, and tilted his head to the side to avoid the burning glare. “I know you won’t let me.”
He grinned. “Good. You’re learning.” The Doctor ignored him, so he continued. “Now if only you could get it through your thick skull that you know exactly how it feels. You have no drums, Doctor, just the little hidden voice, the leprechaun on your shoulder that tells you to burn things.”
The Doctor snorted. “A Simpson’s reference? I would’ve thought Earth cartoons were beneath you.”
The Master ignored him. “Even now you can see the flames as they devour, and yet you don’t throw me off of you to stop them.” He tilted his head to the side. “Why is that, Doctor?” Still holding the other man’s hands against his head, he lowered his body towards the figure beneath him, leaning in against the Doctor’s ear and whispered in a tauntingly rough voice. “You know you want to hear them, Doctor. All you have to do is open my mind and listen.”
He closed his eyes as he felt those fingers tremble against him, dancing against the precipice of a cliff he hadn’t approached in a long time. He could feel the Doctor as he began to hesitantly penetrate his mind, lingering in their shared memories, spanning from childhood to their time in the Valiant, as the constant throbbing of the Master’s drums clenched around him. He could tell that the overwhelming clatter was taking its toll on the other man, unused as he was to the call of the drums. The Doctor’s body was tense below him, as though he was trying his hardest not to collapse from the constant thrumming sensations.
The Master released the Doctor’s fingers but they remained where they were, his mind lost in the depths of the Master. He placed his own fingers against the other man’s face and felt the slight sheen of perspiration under his fingers as he closed his eyes and gently began his own probing. He glided past the debris of the Doctor’s mind, past his foolish heroics, his mingling with the man apes, until he found that little dark spot restrained in the back of the Doctor’s mind. He lingered on its restraints, tugging gently and hearing the Doctor whimper below him. The tugging became more violent and the ardent desire to break the dark spot free of its chains almost overwhelmed him. He could feel the Doctor, his body tense and coiled as though he was ready to pounce. The chains began to loosen under the Master’s hands, and as they fell apart he felt the Doctor quiver beneath his legs.
The Doctor’s body stilled, and suddenly the Master felt the other man’s hands leave his face and grasp his shoulders, using his elbows as leverage as he flipped their positions so that the other man’s body now hovered over his own. He smirked as the Doctor leant in and devoured his mouth. The fire raged in the background, forgotten, as that mouth battled against his own, the telltale sign of an emerging erection pressing against his thigh and the Doctor’s mouth claiming the Master’s as his own. He felt the Doctor’s nails claw recklessly into his scalp, as his mouth was violently penetrated with the other man’s tongue in it’s desperate search for every spot in his mouth that had him bucking up against the man above him. Teeth clashed and bit down against puckered flesh, and soon they were both lost in a sea of mingled spit and blood. Oxygen dwindled and soon the Master withdrew his mouth from the war, panting heavily as he looked up into the Doctor’s eyes from beneath lowered lids, his lashes fanning against his cheekbones. “You heard them.” It wasn’t a question but the Doctor still nodded in reply, his breathing still too heavy to form any actual words.
“What did they tell you to do?”
The Doctor grinned at him, his eyes glimmering dangerously. “Destroy.”
The fire burned all around them, its orange glow reflecting in their eyes as the world before them unraveled in magnificent flame. He didn’t need to look at the face of the man next to him to know exactly how he was feeling. He knew only to well the sensation of adrenaline pumping through your veins at a million miles per second and the lust for complete destruction mounting, impatiently waiting to burst. He could feel that this is what the Doctor was experiencing in the tenseness of the other man’s hand, trembling within the grasp of his own, and in the way his body was coiled in complete immobility next to him. They watched from the open TARDIS doors as this unknown planet smouldered in the darkness, and he knew that the blood that was on his hands had now violated the Doctor’s, and the other man knew just how good that could feel. He turned to observe the demented, power-drunk smile on the face of the other Timelord, watching as the other man mirrored his actions. “What do you think Doctor?” A hand lazily reached up around his head, fingers gripping his short hair, desperately trying to gain a hold. He watched as that face, vacant except for a glimmer of insanity, slowly closed the narrow gap between their mouths. The Master smirked, and as he felt that hand violently tug his head backwards and bringing it into sickening contact with the doorframe behind him, the smirk didn’t even have time to leave his face as he slumped to the floor, unconscious.