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