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Lost Boys	By : Turkaholic Category: 1 through F > Doctor Who Views: 3820 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, any of its characters or trademarks. I make no money from the writing of this fanfiction

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Quick note:
Apologies for this, especially in the middle of a sex scene, but just a couple of points I need to make:
- Normally I’m not a review whore (Okay, that’s a lie), but in all honesty, if you’re enjoying the story it would be a great pick-me-up to hear about it. I like to know that what I’m writing is pleasing someone, so if that’s you just click the review button? Even a couple of words would give me a buzz.
- I’m going back to uni on Monday (29/09/14). This means that from Monday onwards, new chapters may be sporadic, or the chapters (even) shorter. Master/Doctor love is time-consuming and tiring. Please don’t worry: I won’t abandon this. Remember those niggling little worms I talked about before? Yeah, well they won’t let me.
That’s all. Thanks for reading!
Turkaholic.
Chapter Five
                The Doctor hissed as the Master’s teeth scraped against his skin, pressing himself harder between the taller man’s legs. The Doctor could feel the gloating smile pressed bruisingly hard against his collar, but all will to resist had gone. The surrender had been final: the Doctor knew it; the Master’s smile proved it to be true.
                The Master moved, suddenly grinding his hips forward with an undisguised hiss of enjoyment, biting down harder on the Doctor’s skin. The Doctor could barely hold back a groan, shuddering as the Master pressed forward again, unable to stop himself from grinding back. He buried his face in the other Timelord’s hair, desperate to conserve what little pride he had left.
                The Master’s tongue slid upwards, following the pounding blood in the Doctor’s neck, over his jaw and back to his ear, still grinding roughly against the taller man. Robbed of his hiding place, the Doctor turned his face away, painfully aware of the way his hips moved so perfectly, submitting completely to the Master’s rhythm.
                “Oh but Doctor you’re still holding out on me.” Slurred the Master thickly. He grabbed the other man’s hips and tugged at them violently, pressing them against his own, his fingers digging in the Doctor’s flesh. The Doctor threw back his head and shuddered, biting his tongue to supress a cry. “…I want to hear,” hissed the Master, amusement filtering through every syllable, “I want to hear every nasty little noise you make.” He laughed breathily in the Doctor’s ear. “I remember them well. And… if you won’t make them for me…”
                He made his point by biting at the other Timelord’s ear, pulling it downwards sharply. The Doctor tried hard to bite back his gasp, but too late. His hips jolted towards the Master, his back arching away from the wall. The Master took his earlobe into his mouth, soothing it.
                The Doctor felt the drumming of his hearts pounding in his ears. He hissed through bared teeth, still trying to bite back the noises that were rising in his throat; but he knew already how the Master worked; the streak of sadism that had grown with his madness that meant he would never let the Doctor hold back. He did the only thing he could think of: he turned his face towards the Master, opening his eyes long enough to see the smirk fade from the Timelord’s lips, replaced with an uncharacteristic look of confusion. A fraction later, he pressed his lips against the Master’s.
                The Master’s entire rhythm changed. Where once his movements had been hard, almost punishing, they became fluid. Not gentle; the Master could never be that, thought the Doctor, but instead of clutching furiously at his hips, the Master now massaged them. Instead of the bruising kiss of before, he simply dominated.
                “…Doctor, am I about to watch you -?”
                “Easy, captain.” Warned the Doctor, just a hint of playfulness in his otherwise serious voice.
                Jack laughed a little. “Believe me, any other partner in that room with you, you might have to tie me down, but…”
                He watched the two bodies as they moved together, studying with mixed shock and uncertainty the intense expression on the Master’s normally terrifying face. Right now, for all the world he simply looked normal; a normal man, concentrating on the sensations of someone else’s body.
                The Doctor shook his head sadly, raising his wide eyes to the ceiling. “This isn’t a memory I’d choose to share. With anyone. Some things should stay private.”
The captain’s mind flashed back to memories of Ianto, and he felt his stomach lurch. He understood.
                “Then why are we here?”
                “…Because,” sighed the Doctor, “some things that should be private have to be shown, and some things that should be shown never are.”
                There was a dull thud as the Doctor’s jacket and shirt fell to the floor behind him. The Master pulled away from the kiss, his eyes glinting as the Doctor let out what he’d expected to be a muffled groan. The Master stood back, watching the other Timelord’s hips arch forward instinctively as he did. The Doctor opened his eyes, confused.
                “This new regeneration, Doctor…” panted the Master, looking him over. The Doctor rested his head against the wall, his chest heaving as he regained his breath. “So much better than the last time we met. A little on the skinny side, but…” He spread his arms, an appreciative smirk on his face.
                The Doctor frowned, suddenly aware again of the situation he had fallen into. He shivered, the air conditioning suddenly cold on his bare skin. He made a movement as if to pick up his shirt. The Master got there first.
                “No shirt for you.” The Master chided playfully, standing up with a mock-glare. He threw it across the room. “You’re so much more interesting to look at the way you are.”
                “And what about your wife?” panted the Doctor, “I’m not sure she’d appreciate it.”
                The Master began to laugh. The sound rang through the silent room like a gunshot.
                “She’s a human.” He said simply, as though that explained it all. “Sweet little Lucy… but their lives are so fragile. So fleeting, aren’t they Doctor? One day soon, she’ll be gone, but us-“
                The Master moved forwards once again, pressing his chest against the Doctor’s. His eyes flashed in the moonlight, the sound of superiority and amusement in his voice. “We survive. Day after day; year after year; regeneration after regeneration, like the endless sound of drums, marching on. And no matter where you run, what face you take…” The Doctor closed his eyes, gulping back a moan as the Master dragged his fingers down his bare chest, coming to rest tantalisingly on the waistband of his trousers. His hips twitched.
                “…You know I’ll find you.”
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Lost Boys