Fandom: Dr. Who
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Master, Sonic Screwdriver
Wordcount: 380
Rating: PG13
Notes: Icon Prompt from
lefaym. Beta by hllangel, who saved me from posting 130 words of crap. Warnings: Emo!Doc
He didn’t use the personal setting on the screwdriver very often, certainly never when a companion was around. They’d either panic at the sight of the aftermath or, in Jack’s case, kill themselves multiple times trying to use it.
But now that he was alone again, this time by choice, there was no reason not to.
He held the screwdriver to the side of his face and waited. Within seconds the device had interfaced with the pleasure centres of his brain, sending sensation through his body. With the physical reaction came the memories.
The Doctor had never understood how love and hate could be so deeply entwined, but there they were. As he involuntarily reached down to feel his body’s response, he saw the Master in all his arrogant, evil glory. He’d loved all of his companions in some way, even desired a few of them, but it was his greatest enemy who provoked the strongest response. If he could have him here, now…yes, he’d very much like to have the Master with him. There was so much they could do together. Brief flashes of naked, sweating bodies shot through his mind, making both hearts beat loudly with anticipation.
He didn’t have to do much touching; the sonic waves took care of that, but there was still the longing for physical contact. It was a need he’d probably acquired from his human friends over the years, even when he’d been offered the opportunity and declined. The screwdriver provided the stimulus, but he still had to grip himself to make the circuit complete.
It was almost too much; painful memories juxtaposed with graphic sexual fantasies, down to being able to imagine the exact sound of the Master’s harsh breathing and words of filth he’d inevitably whisper, as he and the Doctor moved together.
The Doctor gave himself over to the experience, only vaguely aware that he was actually screaming, until he’d collapsed in a heap on the floor of the console room, completely drained.
After wiping the sweat and tears off his face, he went looking for a place to recover. This was the reason he used the personal setting so rarely. He desperately needed tea, followed by at least two weeks of solid rest.
And most definitely, a new companion.
