hh_mirror | WART from the Master!

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WART from the Master!

It's been a while, all you wayward children of Hogwarts. I think it's time for a little more... music.

I know, the lyrics are sappy, but I love a good cover.

Now, that's a little less... sticky-sweet. Charming in its own way, I suppose.

...you know, I don't care. Maybe I don't mind sappy once in a while.

...what were you humans smoking in the 90s?

Now, here was a time when you had a little style.

...remember those days, Doctor? We should do a show together soon. I'll let you pick out the songs.

((ETA: Eventual NSFW in the Ten/Master thread))

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The Doctor watched the light for a few moments longer before growing bored.

"It's all very fascinating, but having to hold it just seems like a special sort of torch, yeah?"

"Pfft. Look at this." He grabbed one of the empty glasses and murmured an incantation that caused cheery blue flames to spring up inside. They flared alarmingly for a moment, then cast a dim but appealing flickering glow over the table.

The Dcotor looked much more impressed by this and began mumbling about chemical reactions and poking carelessly at the flames/

"I think you're a bit too drunk to be literally playing with fire," he said with a smirk. In truth, he probably was as well; he should have anticipated that the alcohol residue in the glass would have caught. He pointed his wand over the glass. "Aguamenti!" He cast it to a much smaller and less forceful flow this time, filling the glass with water as neatly as if from a tap.

The Doctor proceeded to clap in excitement before leaning forward and resting his head on the table. He really was rather tired and everything was rudely refusing to stay still.

"Not that drunk."

"I think you are." He twirled the Doctor's hair around his fingertips (because really, it was practically being offered up like that) and giggled. "It's been an incredibly," he pronounced it with exaggerated care, "long time since we've gotten drunk together. No such thing as Sidecars then!"

"Is there not?" He sounded disappointed from inside the shelter of his arms, not protesting the attention to his hair just.

"Has been a while. But I think i've had enough."

"I'd have to agree," he mused, fingertips trailing down the nape of the Doctor's neck. "I could carry you to our room, I suppose, but then I'd have to carry you over the threshold, and we're not dressed for that." He leaned forward, resting his chin on the edge of the table. "Much better to stagger arm in arm, singing bawdy songs off key. Do you think the house elves could do us a kebab?"

"Mm. Think I'm well enough to walk." He smirked and got to his feet shakily. "Bawdy songs it is! You know any old Venusian ballads?"

"Mmm. A few." He managed to appear steady as he stood, but he was gripping the chair tightly for balance. "You start one and I'll join in. I'm bound to at least know the chorus."

Once he was on his feet the Doctor slung an arm around the Master's shoulders and lurched into a song, terribly off key, but obviously pleased with himself.

It was vaguely familiar, and the Master joined in, humming a few of the words, joining in halfway on a few lines. The height difference was enough to make it easier to wrap an arm around the Doctor's waist than his shoulder in this state, but that was fine, cozy and fine, and if they were wobbling a little as they headed to their room, it wasn't enough to knock them over as long as they leaned on each other.

Probably some sort of metaphor in that.

He continued to sing all the way back to their rooms, mumbling incoherently when he forgot the words and belting out the ones he did know. When they exhausted that song he moved onto an Irish sea, ballad, which involved quite a bit of hopping and jogging with his free arm.

"Leave it to you to make even singing tiring," the Master chuckled, fumbling with the doorknob, since he wasn't trying to approximate a jig. "You really get inversed. Immersed. Immersed in things. No, no, that's good. I like that." He slid loose and grabbed the Doctor's hand as he sat on the edge of the bed, perhaps a bit harder than he meant to. "Always liked watching that."

"Did you now?" the Doctor asked pleasantly. He swayed a bit on his feet, caught somewhere between tipping over and breaking into a spin. Instead he did neither and bent low to plant a rather chaste kiss on the master lips and crawl past him onto the bed, up where the pillows were.

That was good. That felt right. The Master ignored the pillows, leaning against the Doctor instead. "Well, you never paid much mind to what you were supposed to be studying. But if it was something that you wanted to know, you couldn't get better focus with laser sights." He laughed at the mental image of the Doctor with laser sights fixed to his temples as he pressed his cheek to his neck; a vaguely awkward pillow, but it was pleasant, feeling the Doctor's pulse in such a personal fashion.

The Doctor didn't protest and folded his arms around the Master, content and comfortable with the heavy warmth. The pulse against the master's cheek quickened ever so slightly for a moment before dying down again so as to become sluggish. This regeneration had never been able to hold it's liquor quite so well as others. He stroked the Master's hair and yawned, moth stretching wide.

"Me with laser sights, now there's a vision."

It was comfortable, letting the alcohol haze blot out the uncertainty, the feeling that it was only a matter of time before things went pear-shaped. Odd, how familiar this felt, when it had been so long.

"I suppose you could use them for a water pistol. One of the new ones, the big ones. Or paintball. I like paintball."

"Naaaah. Don't like things what shoot so much." He chuckled and settledback into the pillows, eyelids growing heavy. He felt warm, inside and out and comfortable. Every part of him was heavy and had no desire to move even an inch.

"You never really did," he mumbled, nuzzling the Doctor's neck. He more than felt right, he smelled right, and the Master cuddled closer. "Of course, you and that pistol, the look on your face... I thought I was going to come in my pants." As snugly as they were nestled, it was clear that the memory alone aroused him.

"Really?" He blinked at that, looking down over at the Master. His fingers were still coming through his hair. "Shouldn't be surprised. Always had the weirdest kinks, you did."

He'd worried for a moment after speaking that the sentiment might not have been taken well, and when he wasn't pushed away he wrapped his arms tightly around the Doctor's waist. "All up close like that. A direct kill. Bit of a taboo of yours. Might have been nice, crossing a taboo together.

...."You'd want me to shoot you?" He might have been clever but he'd also had a lot to drink and was extremely tired. But the arms around his waist were distracting and he sighed, stretching his arms overhead before tucking his hands behind his head. "Not going to let me sleep, are you."

"No, no, it's not really that, not that way," he said thoughtfully. "It was more the intimacy of the moment. Another moment together you wouldn't be able to forget, if you managed to to survive. But oh, you were sharp. I got revenge and we had a few lovely little moments there. A few seconds of 'us'."

The Doctor tilted his head to look up at the ceiling, imagining little spots of light jumping across it. The Master's words weren't entirely sinking in. Oh he was hearing it all just fine, but the usual adverse reaction he might have had wasn't forthcoming. "Us... With guns and a rubbish chair."

He snorted and pulled the spectacles from his pocket before he rolled onto them.

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