Something Ventured, Nothing Gained (Love Letters, Five/Ainley!Master, R)
Title: Something Ventured, Nothing Gained
Series | Arc: Love Letters | Five
Age | Sequence: 809 | 1
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Five/Ainley!Master
Rating: R
Word Count: 336
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I am not writing this for profit.
Something Ventured, Nothing Gained
“Can we start again?” the Master said quietly afterwards. There were always these moments, stolen truces, fevered couplings, and then hasty partings. This time he didn’t leave. Why it was different he couldn’t say. It was this Doctor, perhaps. More than the others before him… surely it wasn’t as shallow as his appearance, which was admittedly one of his better. But there was something… he was so much younger this time… so much older. So he’d dared.
“It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?”
The Master turned away. “Right.” The man wouldn’t give an inch. Wouldn’t even acknowledge what it had taken for him to say those words. There was so much more he wanted to say. But why? Was there a point anymore? He began to dress, putting on the midnight clothes which so reflected his disposition, like armor. High collars, thick velvets, stiff embroidery. Covering the flesh so recently brought alive by the Doctor’s touch. “Forever,” he thought in the ancient language they both shared.
“We were children.”
He hadn’t realized he’d said it aloud and cursed himself. There was a reason he usually beat a hasty exit before the Doctor would awake. He’d fallen prey to the seductive softness of long blond hair and long limbs slackened and spent and had been loath to relinquish the moment.
And so he left his hearts open again. Bloody fool he. Taken in by a sweet visage not suspecting it still held hard hearts, crueler perhaps than he’d been in centuries.
Without another word, he left the bedroom they had shared for that too-brief night. In his own TARDIS, he set the coordinates and watched the monitor as the blue box faded to be replaced by the vortex.
He wouldn’t make the mistake a second time. The Doctor would pay for this. With his life if possible. If he couldn’t control his sentiment for the other Time Lord, he could at least remove the problem once and for all. But not before he suffered.
Series | Arc: Love Letters | Five
Age | Sequence: 809 | 1
Author: von_gelmini
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Five/Ainley!Master
Rating: R
Word Count: 336
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I am not writing this for profit.
Something Ventured, Nothing Gained
“Can we start again?” the Master said quietly afterwards. There were always these moments, stolen truces, fevered couplings, and then hasty partings. This time he didn’t leave. Why it was different he couldn’t say. It was this Doctor, perhaps. More than the others before him… surely it wasn’t as shallow as his appearance, which was admittedly one of his better. But there was something… he was so much younger this time… so much older. So he’d dared.
“It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?”
The Master turned away. “Right.” The man wouldn’t give an inch. Wouldn’t even acknowledge what it had taken for him to say those words. There was so much more he wanted to say. But why? Was there a point anymore? He began to dress, putting on the midnight clothes which so reflected his disposition, like armor. High collars, thick velvets, stiff embroidery. Covering the flesh so recently brought alive by the Doctor’s touch. “Forever,” he thought in the ancient language they both shared.
“We were children.”
He hadn’t realized he’d said it aloud and cursed himself. There was a reason he usually beat a hasty exit before the Doctor would awake. He’d fallen prey to the seductive softness of long blond hair and long limbs slackened and spent and had been loath to relinquish the moment.
And so he left his hearts open again. Bloody fool he. Taken in by a sweet visage not suspecting it still held hard hearts, crueler perhaps than he’d been in centuries.
Without another word, he left the bedroom they had shared for that too-brief night. In his own TARDIS, he set the coordinates and watched the monitor as the blue box faded to be replaced by the vortex.
He wouldn’t make the mistake a second time. The Doctor would pay for this. With his life if possible. If he couldn’t control his sentiment for the other Time Lord, he could at least remove the problem once and for all. But not before he suffered.