Credit to BlackRoseSpuffyFan for roleplaying this with me. She played the part of the Doctor and I was the Master. Enjoy :3
The Doctor ghosted his hands across the controls, wondering where in the universe to go. Without a companion to give him an idea to go, he was at a loss. He'd seen almost everything, been almost everywhere and seeing it again, alone, didn't seem rather appealing. Deciding he should at least try and find somewhere he hadn't been before, the Doctor began to pull at leavers and rapidly pressed buttons, running around the console but lacking his usual excitement. Suddenly, the TARDIS lurched and something flashed on the screens. He read the message on the screen, a simple signal with only coordinates, and, out of utter boredom and curiosity he punched the coordinates into the console. The TARDIS, after throwing him from side to side, and the Doctor holding onto the console with all the strength his body could muster, they landed in an abandoned, overgrown field. He walked to the door, cautiously, and swung it open, staring outside at the field.
A cold gust of wind blew through the Master's hair, ruffling the blonde strands and sending a chill through his body. He pulled his hoodie more tightly around himself, waiting silently for a response to his message. Soon enough, the familiar whirr of the Doctor's TARDIS could be heard in the distance, and a grin spread across the Master's stubble-grown face. Picking himself up, the black-clad Time Lord made his way through the tall tufts of grass and cracked concrete that littered the barren wasteland. Finally, he crept over a small hill to see the TARDIS standing in the middle of the field, the Doctor not far off and facing the opposite direction. As quietly as he could, the Master circled the other Time Lord until he was a little closer, but still out of his line of sight. Then, picking up a nearby rock, he chucked it in the direction of his enemy, hitting him squarely in the back of the head with a loud thump. The Master chuckled, slinking back into the tall grass.
The Doctor stared into the distance, waiting for someone – or something to emerge – so he could figure out why someone had sent him a signal, when something hit him in the head. Startled, he turned around, staring at the grass in dismay and rubbing the back of his head with a confused expression. He tilted his head, looking at the long grass with sudden curiosity before walking towards it. He began to walk near the grass, not venturing inside, but instead just hovering near it. "Hello?" he called, hoping for a response "Is anyone there? I got a signal..." The Doctor trailed off, then sighed, stepping forward into the grass "Hello?" he said again, still waiting for a response.
The Master sighed dramatically. All he wanted was a reaction out of his old enemy, but instead the Doctor had to go and ruin all his fun. He stood up slowly with his arms crossed, and half glared at the Doctor. "So you finally decided to come and visit, have you?" he said, his tone of voice suggesting that he might stick his tongue out at the Doctor for tampering his fun.
The Doctor raised an eyebrow "M-master?" the Doctor asked, surprised at him being there. "But how? You were trapped in the time lock! You can't be out. How did you possibly get out?" the Doctor questioned, looking him up and down. "You shouldn't have been able to," he muttered. "And what do you mean, finally? How long was it since you escaped? And why did you call me here?" the Doctor demanded, suddenly suspicious at the Master's actions.
The Master threw his hands over his ears. "Gah! So many questions!" he exclaimed. "Can't you ever shut up? Even an entire fleet of Daleks can't make you stop babbling!" The Master spun around and began walking off in the opposite direction, muttering under his breath and thrusting his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.
"Can't you ever stop changing the subject?" the Doctor said, annoyed with his enemy. "And I can shut up, I just don't feel like it right now. Why won't you answer my questions?" The Doctor asked, following after him. "And where are we going?" the Doctor questioned. "You must have called me here for a reason, tell me what that reason is!" the Doctor said, grabbing the neck of the Master's hood, managing to stop him and pulled him back. "Now, please, if you don't mind."
The Master turned sharply, wrenching his hood from the Doctor's grasp. "There you go again," he growled, poking an accusing finger into the Doctor's chest. "You never give me any time to answer your brigade of questions; you just pile things onto me until my head starts pounding with the drums!" He put his hands over his ears again, clutching his head tightly for a few minutes before visibly relaxing. He opened his eyes again and looked at the Doctor as if nothing had happened. "How do you even know it was me who called you here?" he said, recalling the Doctor's earlier words.
"Then who else is here?" the Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow. "Were there others that escaped the Time Lock?" The Doctor, becoming slightly panicked but deciding to keep his cool, at least on the outside, continued to question the Master. "And you didn't even look as if you were going to answer my questions, you just walked off!" the Doctor said to him. "Where were you going exactly?" The Doctor stopped, looking around. "This place looks so empty."
The Master walked off a few paces and stood with his arms crossed, looking up at the sky. "No," he answered the Doctor's earlier question. "No one else is here. It's just me." He sighed, facing the Doctor once more, but looking down at his feet instead of meeting his eyes. "I was lo— bored," he said gruffly, substituting his final word last-second. "It's no fun hanging around this dump without someone to try and corrupt."
"And I'm the one you want to corrupt?" The Doctor asked, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Why me?" he muttered, more to himself than the Master. "So, you called me here for no real reason other than being bored?" the Doctor said, crossing his arms and glaring ahead. "And do you think I'm going to actually stay here?" The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "I have other places to be, you know. Places where people actually need my help and don't want to corrupt me."
"Yeah? Like where?" scoffed the Master. "Admit it, you were bored as hell until you got my call, so don't even try and say that you have something better to do!" He turned around and stalked off, heading toward a meek building that was half falling apart with rust and age. When he reached the outer stone wall, he punched the hard surface, growling in frustration. The Master put his head down, thumping it against the wall and breathing heavily. "I'm so hungry," he half growled, half sobbed. "There's nothing to eat in this Rassilon-forsaken place, and I'm starving."
The Doctor followed him, mumbling about how very un-bored he was in The TARDIS, when he saw the Master hitting his head on the wall. "Hey, stop that," the Doctor said, standing behind him, not sure whether to pull him away from the wall. "Isn't there food around here? How did you survive?" he asked. "And would you stop that shouting? It's annoying!" The Doctor sighed. "How long have you been out here exactly?"
"Ugh, I don't know," whined the Master. "When I got here my head was pounding – pounding worse than ever before. I was in agony for days, weeks; I don't know how long I was out here before I could function properly. I could have been lying on the ground for months and I wouldn't know it." He turned and grabbed onto the Doctor's suit collar. "It felt like years, Doctor. I couldn't even move..." He trailed off, his eyes becoming unfocused and distant as he stared at something that no one but him could see.
The Doctor stared at clearly unstable Master. "I may have some food in The TARDIS," he said reluctantly. "Then again, I might not considering what you did to the TARDIS last time you were in her," the Doctor snapped, ineffectively trying to keep calm. "She was all mutilated… It took me forever to get her back to normal," he said, sadly thinking back to what The TARDIS looked like once The Master was done with her. "She might take all the food away, but it might be worth a look." He paused. "We don't have any humans though, so it might not be food that suits your liking," the Doctor said bitterly.
The Master's ears pricked at the mention of food, and he looked up at the Doctor with big eyes, almost like a dog. He didn't care that he was acting like a fool, he was fucking starving. Ignoring everything else the Doctor said, he started back toward the blue ship. Once he reached the doors, he tried desperately to pull them open, but growled in frustration when they wouldn't budge. "Doctor! Your stupid ship won't let me in!"
"That's because she doesn't like you." The Doctor snickered slightly, walking towards the door and stroking it, silently pleading for the door to open. After a while of coaxing, the TARDIS allowed him to open the doors. "And she's not stupid!" the Doctor snapped, walking inside. "She's brilliant!" He stopped inside the doors, looking back at the Master. "Call her stupid again and you'll have no food," he warned, cautiously keeping an eye on The Master as he led them down a hall.
The Master rolled his eyes, but followed the Doctor eagerly into the TARDIS. He felt a slight pressure inside his skull, and realized that it was the TARDIS' telepathic network working its way into his mind. 'She's probably trying to figure out what I'm up to,' he thought to himself, smiling slightly. He was glad that he still came off as somewhat threatening despite his physical state.
The Doctor opened a door, wandering inside, and motioned for the Master to sit at the table. "Ahah!" exclaimed the Doctor, as if he'd just made a great discovery. "Food" he announced, taking out a packet of ham and putting it on the table "I could make you a sandwhich..." the Doctor pondered, turning around to look into the cupboards "We have some bread, but no butter... Could you deal without money? I suppose you could given how hungry you are," he rambled, turning on his heel with the bread in hand.
The Master paid no attention to the Doctor's ramblings. As soon as the ham hit the table, he was tearing it apart. The packet was gone in a matter of seconds, and the Master was looking up at the Doctor expectantly by the time he turned around.
The Doctor's eyes widened at The Master. "You really are hungry, aren't you?" he mumbled, tentatively placing the bread in front of him. "I think we have some chicken somewhere..." the Doctor said, rooting through all the cupboards, and pulling out some slices of chicken. "It's uncooked but you don't seem to mind," the Doctor told him, placing the chicken in front of him as well.
The Master did the same with the pieces of raw chicken, and it was gone just as quickly as the ham. The Master sat back in the chair, looking satisfied and licking his lips. "Mmm, much better." The Master grinned before standing up and sprinting out the door, heading back toward the control room. Once he got there, he tried to send the TARDIS into the vortex. But as soon as he touched the controls, a searing pain shot through his body, sending the Master to the floor with a thud. "Oww..." he groaned, his head throbbing from the electric shock that he'd just received.
The Doctor followed him, arms crossed. "Out. Now," he ordered, pointing towards the door. "I'm not having you here if, when I clearly show kindness you don't deserve, you throw it back in my face by trying to take the TARDIS somewhere," the Doctor told him, arms folded as he stood above the Master, gently tapping the man with his foot. "Do you really think The TARDIS wouldn't have done something to stop you from trying to take her away?" the Doctor asked with a raised brow. "You don't think she's that stupid, do you?"
The Master rolled over on the grated floor, still holding his head. His stomach panged with guilt but he just wanted to leave this damned wasteland and get to somewhere safe! His head was pounding like mad, and everything the Doctor said was drowned out by the noise.
The Doctor crouched beside The Master, staring at him. "Is it the drums still?" he asked, concern in his voice. "I did offer to at least try to fix them, remember?"
The Master looked up, his eyes meeting the Doctor's, which were filled with concern. At the mention of the drums, he realized that his head no longer hurt from the shock he'd received but from the pounding curse that was now overtaking him. Looking into the Doctor's eyes, they subsided slightly, and the Master let out a choked sob. "Doctor," he whispered. "My head – it hurts."
"I know it hurts," the Doctor whispered. "Is...Is there anything I can do? Anything I can do to stop the pain? Or ease it, at least?" he questioned, gently reaching his hand out to brush across the Master's temple.
At the feel of the Doctor's hand against the side of his face, the Master relaxed slightly, and the drums quieted a little more. Surprised at this notion, he told the Doctor what was happening. "What does it mean?" he asked, his voice small and child-like, filled with pain.
"I-I'm not sure." The Doctor blushed, gently cupping The Master's cheek. "But...is it helping?" The Doctor asked, "Are they quieter? Is the pain going?" He ran his thumb across the Master's cheek, trying to help.
The Master closed his eyes, leaning into the Doctor's touch and letting his eyes slide shut. He didn't answer the questions directed at him, but tried to focus on the warmth emitting from the other Time Lord's hand. To his surprise and relief, the drums quieted even further, but were still prominent in his mind despite the Doctor's calming presence. He opened his eyes, meeting the Doctor's once again and just looking; taking in the features of the man before him. His body itched like there was something he needed to do – he needed to move. But where to? He frowned, confused.
The Doctor caressed The Master's skin with both hands now, ghosting his fingers over the skin. The Doctor took deep breathes, deciding that this seemed to be helping the Master, if only a little bit; and if it helped The Master, he should continue his actions. The Doctor's breath caught slightly as The Master's eye met his, and his gaze seemed slightly questioning, but The Doctor said nothing.
That Master looked up at the Doctor, realizing that he was more comfortable in his enemy's arms than he'd been in a long time. It was an odd realization, and even though he just wanted to enjoy the Doctor's comforting touch, the controlling part of his mind wanted to push the other man away and regain his prideful manner. He reached out with one arm, intending to do just that, but instead found his hand curling around the back of the Doctor's neck. What was he doing? Feeling as if he had absolutely no control over his body anymore, the Master watched as his betraying arm pulled the Doctor closer so that he was mere inches from the other's face. He stopped, trying to asses the situation that he had just placed himself in.
Before The Doctor could even stop to think, he closed the space between them, pressing his lips against the Master's because... because it was helping him. The only reason he was kissing the Master was because it was helping him. Obviously. He closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind as his lips moved against the Master's, but all he could think about was the fact that he was kissing The Master. He blocked out everything else and focused on the kiss.
The Master's eyes widened when he felt warm lips move against his own. The Doctor was kissing him. He didn't know what to do; his mind was clouding and rambling with different thoughts and explanations, but he couldn't focus on a single thought. 'What the hell is going on?' The Master tried to focus, pulling his attention to what was happening outside his mind. The Doctor was kissing him. And – he found himself kissing back. His lips moved against the Doctor's. His arms were wrapped around the other man's neck, and the Doctor was still caressing his face. It felt – nice. Something in the Master's stomach fluttered, and his eyes finally slid shut. He concentrated on the kiss, and found that his mind was clearing. The drums were still there, but they were small and quiet. They coincided almost perfectly with the Doctor's heartbeat which he could feel against his own chest. Gradually, the Master completely relaxed into the kiss. He finally slowed and pulled back slightly, locking eyes with the Doctor.
The Doctor took several deep breaths, trying to compose himself after he'd just...after what'd just happened. "Did that help?" he asked, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable for asking such a stupid question. But he need to ask it, he need some justification as to why he'd just kissed the Master; any reason would do really, especially if that reason was because it helped the other man. He got to his feet, standing up straight and smoothing his clothes out, offering a hand to help The Master up, wiggling his fingers slightly, trying to act normal after what has just happened; trying to keep himself at least slightly composed.
The Master stared at the Doctor for a moment, his eyes a bit unfocused and his lips pink and swollen from the kiss. His eyes flicked to the outstretched hand, and he took it slowly, allowing the Doctor to pull him to his feet. When both men were standing face to face, the Master felt that same fluttering feeling in his belly, and he willed it to go away. He stood in silence for a moment, then turned around, glaring at the TARDIS console. "Can we please get out of this hole that I've been stuck in?" he said to the Doctor, still not looking at him. "I'm bored."
"It's not a hole." The Doctor told him. "Holes don't have grass. What kind of hole has grass? What type of holes have you been looking at lately?" he said, glad to be back to his excessively talking start. He spun on his heel so he was facing The TARDIS and began to stare at her "Where to first?" He asked, more to himself than anyone else. "Oh!" the Doctor exclaimed, clapping his hands and typing in coordinates "I know just the place!"
The Master rolled his eyes. "Where are you taking us?" he demanded. "If you're trying to bring me to some fairy world to save the flowers, I'm not going." He sat down with a humph and crossed his arms, glaring after the Doctor. On the inside though, the Master was sort of glad to be going somewhere with the Doctor. 'It's only because I have nothing better to do,' he told himself stubbornly, trying to justify his feelings. The Master watched the insane man in front of him, circling the console joyously. He didn't understand how the Doctor could be so damned happy all the time. As he watched, he started to think about what had happened between them. Why had the Doctor pretended like nothing had happened? Maybe he only did it to make the Master feel better so he could go somewhere to take his mind off him. The Master frowned.
"No!" The Doctor told him "I did that last week! Why would I go back and do it again?" The Doctor asked him, rolling his eyes as if it was this was information The Master should already know. "I don't want to tell you were I'm taking you, you'll find out soon enough!" The Doctor grinned, sounding like an excited child with a secret. The Doctor, every so often, looked up or behind his back to glace at The Master. 'It's to make sure he's not doing something he's not supposed to be doing,' the Doctor told himself. 'And it's not because he looks cute with that expression.' No, it was most definitely not that. "Almost there!" he exclaimed, grinning at the console.
The Master tried not to stare at the man in front of him, but found his gaze returning to the Doctor time and time again. Not because he liked seeing the Doctor all excited and bouncy; no. It was because he was making sure the Doctor was actually flying his ship properly. He missed his old TARDIS, and itched to press those lovely buttons on the console once again. And the Doctor... He imagined himself standing beside the skinny man, the two of them flying the ship together. The Master shook his head. The Doctor must have done something to him, he concluded. Maybe the TARDIS forcefully triggered some of his happy endorphins or something.
The TARDIS came to a halt and The Doctor took a step back from The TARDIS. "We're here!" The Doctor grinned, then looked at The Master thoughtfully. "I can't have you run around this planet alone, you'll cause trouble," he said. "And I can't keep an eye on you all the time." The Doctor pondered his choices for a while before snapping his fingers. "Handcuffs!" he exclaimed. "If you're handcuffed to me, you can't run off."
The Master's face flushed slightly at the mention of handcuffs. "I'm not your pet, Doctor," he growled, trying to draw attention from his discomfort. "I can handle myself perfectly well without you making it look like we're some sort of..." he faded off, eyes becoming unfocused once more. He shook his head, glaring up at the Doctor. "Point is," he hissed, "You aren't my master." 'It should be the other way around,' he added to himself.
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "You can either be handcuffed to me so we can go outside and explore this planet, or I'll take you to one of the many dungeons of The TARDIS and chain you up there while I explore," he said, taking a step closer to the Master and holding the handcuffs in front of his face. "I never said you were my pet, did I?" the Doctor pressed. "If I did think of you as a pet, my first suggestion would be a leash to match that collar of yours."
The Master blushed at the thought of the Doctor putting him on a leash, and he looked down quickly, focusing on the thick collar still secured around his neck. "It keeps me warm," he muttered, fingering the red band. After a moment of silence, he looked back up at the Doctor, recalling his threat to lock the Master up in the dungeon. "I am not going in any damned dungeon," he told the Doctor, not wanting to speak his choice aloud.
"Fine." The Doctor grinned, putting one of the cuffs on his own wrist and the other on the Master's. One thing he was never going to admit is how good it felt to have such control over the Master, to actually be able to handcuff him to something; even if it was just himself. "I'm sure we're going to have lots of fun here!" The Doctor exclaimed, dragging him towards the door. "You know, some people use scarves to keep themselves warm," he added.
"Well, I like the way it looks," he defended himself. "Besides, it makes me look like an animal. People tend to stay away then." The Master was forced along with the Doctor out the door of the TARDIS. "Where the hell are we?" he asked grumpily, looking around.
The Doctor turned to The Master, tracing his fingers along the red collar. "Where did you even find it?" He muttered "It's so beaten. I have some collars somewhere, you could try one of the newer ones on," the Doctor told him distractedly. "And we're on Earth," he said, grinning from ear to ear and sounding like a child that had just received the greatest gift ever. "In the year 4021."
A shudder ran through the Master's body when the Doctor's fingers brushed against the skin of his neck. He cleared his throat. "You don't remember?" he scoffed at the Doctor. "UNIT put it on me when they had me fix that machine last Christmas." He smiled evilly, remembering how close he had been to victory that day; when he had the Doctor strapped up in that bondage chair. He licked his lips unconsciously, unaware of the other man staring at him.
"Yes, I remember," the Doctor said, trying not to be distracted by The Master's tongue. "But why a collar? I mean, they could have used so many other things," the Doctor mused, walking from The TARDIS and dragging The Master with him. "Ah, Earth." he said affectionately. "It's been awhile." The Doctor sighed happily.
The Master followed the Doctor, trying to stay close to him so that no one would see that they were handcuffed together. He grunted at the Doctor's comment. "It'd look better if everyone were enslaved," he mused.
The Doctor rolled his eyes "What is it with you and enslavement?" The Doctor asked with an irritated sigh and, before he could stop himself, curiosity got the better of him. "Is it some kind of kink of yours?" he questioned, then blushed as he registered the words that left his mouth.
The Master's face flushed also, but he grinned evilly. "As a matter of fact," he drawled, tightening his hold on the handcuffs and yanking the Doctor's wrist down. "It does get me going a little bit." He raised an eyebrow, wanting to see how the Doctor would react.
The Doctor's eyes widened, the once small blush now covering his entire face "Maybe handcuffs weren't the best idea," he murmured, having to resist the urge to run... or do other things. "I guess the name suits you," the Doctor says to him, trying to keep calm.
"I did choose it," replied the Master nonchalantly. "The name holds multiple meanings." He turned, meeting the Doctor's eyes. "But you, Doctor; The Man Who Makes People Better," he mused. "That name holds only one meaning: goodness. Or perhaps," he said, thinking. "Once a medical man is corrupted, he has many instruments at hand to harm others." The Master grinned. "Now that's much more my style." He traced a delicate finger along the Doctor's jawline, before looking over the crowd of people surrounding them. "What are we doing on this stupid planet, anyway?" he asked, acting as if nothing had happened.
"I prefer the one that makes people better," the Doctor said, gulping slightly as The Master's finger left his face. 'Tease,' he thought, then quickly knocked that thought from his head. Far, far from his head. "And it's not stupid." The Doctor pouted. "It's one of my favorites," the Doctor told him sounding like a child. "And you're not going to ruin it!" he said sternly, resuming walking. "What do you have against Earth, anyway?"
The Master walked alongside the Doctor, listening to his defensive babbling. "It's just so – perfect." He snorted. "Humans think they can fix everything, but only care about things that are worth their while." He looked around at all the people. "They could care less about what really happens to any one species besides their own, yet they act like it's their duty to protect nature, or whatever the hell they call it. It's just so fake," he explained, trying to get his point across. "But when their lives are in danger; when they're taken over by someone like me, ooh... That's when their true nature comes out. Because underneath, Doctor, all of humanity are but pathetic worms who shrivel in the sun and flee from the rain. That's why I like messing with them." He grinned, eyes narrowing darkly. "It's just so satisfying to bring down such a perfect empire, and exposing them for what they really are: filth."
"But can't you see how amazing it all is? You've only seen the worst of humanity; not the best," the Doctor said. "There are humans that are just...truly extraordinary. People willing to stand up for what they believe in, no matter what the consequences, and just try," the Doctor said, eyes now far away. "Just try. It doesn't matter what happens as long as they try." The Doctor suddenly shook his head. "Martha walked the Earth for a year. Wilf was more than ready to give his own life than let me die." The Doctor gazed over the crowd surrounding them. "That is the best of humanity; those who are at least willing to try. I should introduce you to a few of those!" He grinned happily.
The Master waved off the Doctor's explanation. "Whatever," he said. "You see them as heroes, I see them as filth. I'm not interested in meeting any more of your pets. Just carry on with whatever it is you want to do here so that we can leave." The Master kept on walking beside the Doctor as they made their way along the sidewalk. Suddenly, the Master spotted something that caught his attention: a sex shop. "Alright," he decided with a grin, "Maybe humans aren't so bad after all..."