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“When you have a paradox machine life is pretty well perfection. It can take you anywhere you want to go and you can change the universe without thought or care. Yep, life is bloody fantastic.”
The Master smirks as he steps over the dead body of Martha Jones and looks down at his unconscious rival. The Doctor is actually human – alive and with only one heart. Out of the corner of his eye he notices a flash of gold; he bends to pick up the pocket watch and casually slips it into his pocket. It burns against his skin, through his clothing as a voice whispers to him begging for freedom. He has already dealt with the Doctor’s main problem and destroyed the Family of Blood’s spaceship before it entered into Earth’s orbit. He’d burned them and managed to go back in time to 1913 just as the Doctor became human.
He looks down at the sleeping man before nodding at his servants. A large scarecrow picks up the now human Doctor into his arms and carries him out of the Tardis.
This is just as I want; the Master decides giggling to himself. He has his perfect plan all worked out and now he just has to wait for the Doctor to play directly into his hands. Yep, life is pretty damn perfect.
****
“No!”
John sat up in his bed and looked around confused, but was relieved to find he was in his wood panelled quarters at the school. He’d been dreaming again. Dreaming of a girl, a blue box and something....it’s right there on the edge of his tongue, but just can’t remember. Sometimes the dreams seemed so real and he would awaken feeling out of place. But he wasn’t; these were his rooms at the Farringham School for boys, where he was a teacher, a very good one, and it was the year of our lord 1913 November the tenth. He was right where he should be. He sighs, rubbing his head in frustration and pushed aside his covers knowing it was time to rise.
There is a knock at the door and he calls enter before even realising it. His head is not where it should be. A young blond girl enters wearing a maid’s uniform and carrying a silver platter with his breakfast.
“Morning...Oh pardon me, Mr Smith. You’re not dressed yet, I could come back later...”
“Please Lucy, it’s fine. Just put it on the table.” John grabs up his robe and wraps it around his lithe form before standing in the cold room. The servant lays a silver platter on the table with his breakfast before she sets to opening the curtains and tiding up.
“Sleep well, sir?” she asks, cheerfully.
“Fine thank you,” John replies absent-mindedly not really thinking about anything much but just the dream with that strange blue box. He picks up his dairy and stares at the pictures he’s sketched from his fantasies. A Blue box. A Dark skinned girl. A man with piercing eyes and a goatee. He shudders just looking at that face but he doesn’t know why it makes him feel as he does. Frightened...yet, aroused.
“Good morning, John.”
John immediately drops the book and turns to face the headmaster, Professor Harold Saxon. “Good morning, sir,” he says breathlessly. What he feels around the other man is surprising and he’s not exactly sure what it is. He respects him - his position and his amazing mind – but there is something more. Something he just cannot reach. Something he fears is quite forbidden. No one affects him as Saxon does and outwardly he knows he’s already blushing at his words.
“Ah, thank you, Lucy,” Mr Saxon tells the young serving girl who giggles and pulls out a chair at John’s desk come table. “I thought we’d share breakfast, what do you say old chap?”
“Of course,” John replies quickly and sits down as the servant leaves closing the door behind her.
“Sleep well?” Mr Saxon enquires as he pours the morning tea. John gazes a moment at the long fingered hand, the large ring on his wedding band finger and he feels a hint of jealously wondering if that means there is a wife on the horizon...but quickly looks away knowing he shouldn’t being thinking of such things. He shouldn’t be looking not at another man’s hands but he can’t help it. Not with Mr Saxons – those hands seem too make him feel weak at the knees for some reason.
“Right...Yes...No – Dreams. Sometimes I have these extraordinary dreams.” John answers unconsciously and surprises himself with his truthfulness. Saxon does that to him – he makes him a little flustered or gets him blurting out words which he didn’t intend to say. He’s amazed he’s not just being dismissed as a right idiot but the Headmaster keeps coming back for more. He keeps coming back for John’s company.
“Really, how interesting. What about?”
John flushes at Mr Saxon’s enquiring look with those dark hazel eyes fixated on him. “I err..I dream I’m this adventurer – a daredevil really – something like a madman. The Doctor, I’m called and he’s....well he’s a man from another world.”
“You have an amazing imagination John,” Mr Saxon continues giving him a wide eyed smirk and making John blush all the more. Mr Saxon picks up his diary and flicks through a few pages as John watches feeling embarrassed. The other man had called it John’s journal of impossible things and he’d kept the title. John doesn’t know why he ever told Mr Saxon about his dreams, he just kind of blurted out one morning. He’d come into share breakfast and had discovered John scribing away at his notes and drawings. They had talked for a long time, John almost missed his first lesson and he’d enjoyed their time together. Mr Saxon appeared to have a deep desire to listen to him and John enjoyed his company even more. Now, it wasn’t only fellowship that he coveted. He’d told him about the dreams, the time traveller he sees and the blue box. Mr Saxon had listened intently and they ended up talking about authors of books they like including Oscar Wilde and Jules Verne.
“Yes, the Doctor and his blue box.” John nervously looks down at his hands surprised how this imaginary man’s name makes him feel. It is almost like Saxon purrs the title and John senses it’s directed just at him.
“You have no lessons this afternoon, yes?” Mr Saxon asks digging into John’s uneaten breakfast. John feels a little too giddy to eat at the moment; he doesn’t understand why the Headmaster’s intensity is directed at him. He’s nothing special and yet Saxon seeks him out constantly day or night.
“That’s right they have outdoor lessons instead...you know army preparedness.”
“Join me in my study. I’d loved to show you some of my books.”
John blushes brightly not sure why but nods quickly in reply. Mr Saxon continues to talk about the boys and the school while John listens; not saying much at all while he chews on a slice of bread. He loves listening to Mr Saxon talk – that strong clear voice with the rough edge. His voice, John has learned is very affective – it can make the boys freeze in fright with his orders but like now, it can almost sound...seductive.
“Well, best be off, see you later Mr Smith,” Mr Saxon finally finishes and abruptly leaves. John sits for a little longer just staring at the chair the other man vacated and wondering what the hell he was feeling. Slowly he gets his mind back in order then dresses in his teacher’s uniform with a clean suit and crooked bowtie. He likes teaching and has always enjoyed imparting knowledge to young minds. His speciality is History and Ancient Languages but he is fond of everything really. He likes books on chemistry, botany, sciences, culture and so much more. Mr Saxon shares the same interests and John finds he babbles far too much around the other man.
John’s classes run like clockwork without any problems and soon he’s faced with his afternoon appointment. He’s feeling a little out of sorts as he approaches the Headmaster’s offices. They are both new to the school, arriving much at the same time after the unfortunate deaths of a couple of teachers. As such John found they shared a common bond, both new and unsure of their surroundings. Saxon easily filled his role very quickly while John was always left feeling a little uncomfortable and out of place. However, he didn’t know why. He continued as he’d always done – working, sleeping and working again. Yet, something wasn’t quite right but he now matter how hard he tried to pin it down, he just couldn’t put his finger on what felt amiss.
“Ah, John,” Mr Saxon calls enthusiastically as he opens his study door and John enters into his private rooms. He smiles, fiddles with his bowtie nervously making it a complete mess, before entering the room.
“Go-good afternoon, Headmaster,” he manages to mumble as Mr Saxon closes the door and locks it behind him.
“Sit my dear chap, I have tea ready,” the Headmaster informs him and he sinks into one of the comfortable chairs before a warm fire. He likes the study; it is welcoming, cosy and filled with books, many of which John would love to read or own.
“Thank you,” he replies to Mr Saxon’s kindness suddenly feeling shy. He takes the offered tea cup and drinks down the hot delightful drink. Mr Saxon is smiling at him again and he’s not entirely sure why because he hasn’t said or done anything yet. It’s a strange sort of smile – a hint of cruelty mixed in with seduction but John finds he enjoys being gazed at in such a way. It is something else John has noticed; Saxon stares at him...a lot.
Mr Harold Saxon watches his visitor with a sly smile. Over the last month he’d been working tirelessly to get to know Mr John Smith, reserved school teacher. Accidental meetings in the village, the church, the school, the pub and then again on the walk home. He puts himself everywhere John is. They bump into each other in doorways; knock books flying and so much more. Once Saxon had accidently bashed a pile of papers from John’s arms and he’d apologised, babbled and blushed so beautifully all the way through it. It was perfection watching the poor man come apart with his seductive whiles. He wonders if John has caught on to what he is doing – the whole seduction gig, but he has found the human so delightful he cannot wait any longer to claim him. It is time to up the game.
“Have you read Oscar Wilde?” Mr Saxon asks making John choke on his tea.
“Err, Yes. One of my favourite authors,” John replies wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“I met him once,” Mr Saxon continues, “He had very nice hands. Much like yours, John.”
John swallows nervously looking at his hands before folding them in his lap. This doesn’t help because he can sense the Headmaster’s eyes are now fixated on his lap. Where his hands are – over his groin...
“Yes...Err...” John babbles anxiously moving his hands again and considers actually sitting on them but surely that would be too childish.
“Warm isn’t it,” Saxon continues enjoying John’s discomfort and the, oh so, beautiful blush that travels up his neck then over his cheeks. They glow warmly pulsing with human life. Saxon takes off his jacket leaving him only in shirt sleeves and waistcoat.
“I’m fine thanks,” John mumbles but as Mr Saxon’s hand touches his shoulder he jumps. He cannot find the words nor does he stop Saxon from helping him out of his jacket making him feel much under-dressed. He shivers and it’s not from the cold. Firm fingers stroke over his shoulder and up to his neck pausing just a moment before the other man stands back and returns to his seat. John rubs the place on his neck nervously, touching the same place where moments before another man’s fingers had been.
“You know he went to prison,” Mr Saxon suddenly continues making John jump. He pondered on asking who but then remembers they were talking about Oscar Wilde.
“Yes,” Is all that John can manage to choke out.
“Is love that way wrong? What do you think, John?” Mr Saxon leans closer to him now, across the table so that he’s a breath away from his lips. As if he was learning over to offer his mouth to a lady while asking for a kiss. Which is totally ridiculous, John decides because Saxon would do no such thing and he’s the completely wrong gender.
“Think....I don’t...I’m not...Mr Saxon, I...”
“Harry, please. We’ve known each other these last two months John, surely first name basis is acceptable. We are both new here, we need to stick together.”
“Yes...Off course...Mr...Harry.”
The stutter is adorable and the warm flush makes his cheeks glow.
“You’re very pretty, John,” Harry admits making John gasp and he actually does sit on his hands. He doesn’t know where to put his eyes and his mouth just keeps opening and closing unable to find the words. Suddenly Harry is there before him again leaning close. But it’s not near enough and to John’s shock; he sides from his chair onto his knees and all of a sudden it is very close and personal. It’s making John’s head spin and he can do nothing but gaze into the sparkling eyes, breathing in the other man’s scent and bask in the nearby presence of the powerful man. John gasps at the sight of Harry on his knees between his legs, making him feel so warm and a little...aroused. He looks away, his eyes nearly closed and but he cannot stop looking at the other man through his lashes. John isn’t sure what his gaze means but the only word he can use to describe it is...Want.
“Can I kiss you John? If you don’t like it I’ll never mention it again.”
John considers and clenches his hands under his legs. He tries to make himself small and unnoticed but Harry is staring directly at him and he cannot escape those eyes. Bright hazel eyes with such passion, genius and a hint of something else... He knows he should be running from his room, never to see Saxon ever again because this isn’t proper or right. Yet, he cannot because this most certainly doesn’t feel wrong to him.
“I – err...I haven’t...”
“Shhh.” Harry tells him leaning forward and pressing their mouths together. John cannot stop his loud gasping moan of surprise as the cool lips touch his. He’s kissed girls before – he was an average boy doing boyish things at one time – but the intensity of the gentle kiss surprises him. He considered it would be different but Harry’s lips are just like any others - Smooth and soft, but firm and oh, so demanding. The second time Harry presses their lips together in a chase kiss; John opens his mouth welcoming him. He gasps as the cool tongue reaches deep within his mouth before it is withdrawn again.
This is so wrong, so forbidden; John’s conscience cries but he finds his heart isn’t listening because this feels so...right. Harry’s mouth of his is perfection.
“Can I John?” Harry pleads again. John’s only answer is to nod numbly with wide eyes and clenched fists. Their lips meet a third time and this time a cool tongue plays with his as the kiss becomes more impassioned. He moans as the clever tongue flicks inside his mouth, searching out his own and they entwine together. Then it’s gone and Harry is back sitting in his chair as if nothing had happened. As if John hadn’t just had the life snogged out of him.
“So are you going to let me read your journal of impossible things, John?” Harry enquires out of the blue perfectly calmly as he picks up his tea cup. John pants unsure where to put himself but finds his head nodding to Harry’s request. He’s not sure what just happened but is afraid to ask in case like that blue box he’s imagined the last five minutes. The world didn’t end with his sin either and there was no finger of God pointing at him...so did he imagine it? If so it was damn good and he’d really like to go for it again.
They don’t kiss again all afternoon and by evening John is back in his own rooms confused and apprehensive. He’s not sure what he is feeling and what he should do. He liked Harry’s kiss even though he knows he really shouldn’t. He liked the taste, the scent – the feel of the other man against him mouth. If it did happen then in all good conscience he should make ensure it doesn’t ever again. If he asks, and John doubts he will, he will tell Harry he doesn’t want his kisses and that will be it. They will go back to being friends – nothing more because there cannot be anything more.
****
One week later and John is back in the Headmaster’s study for afternoon tea. Harry closes and locks the door behind him but this time he doesn’t sit. Instead, Harry smiles at him, walks over to his chair and bends over to kiss his mouth. John’s eyes close and his head tilts a little as their tongues touch letting the kiss deepen. He doesn’t understand why he’s doing this – why he’s allowing Saxon into his personal space.
“Lovely, John,” Harry breathes into his mouth and John jumps as a wandering hand stokes down his arm. Those firm hands take off his jacket and fold it over the back of a chair after the kiss ends. Nothing else occurs and John watches confused as Harry sits before the fire and pours the tea. He takes the teacup, his hands shaking, feeling bewildered and a little infuriated that the kiss was over so quickly. That thought shocked him and he has to use both hands to steady his teacup.
“Can I kiss you John?” Harry requests after a long period of silence and John finds himself nodding without complaint. Harry’s back down between his legs which leaves John breathless and his mouth dry. He is hesitant about what to do but slowly Harry takes his hands, pulling him nearer. He’s a little apprehensive and dry mouthed but he doesn’t pull away. A cool hand strokes his face making him jump as Harry caresses his cheek, then up through his hair until his fingers play at the nape of his neck. His head tilts and Harry’s mouth is back on his - wet and demanding.
“Harry,” John gasps as Harry’s other hand slides around his waist resting there. He touches nowhere else but John feels as though any contact burns him. The hand around his middle strokes up his side and then down over his hip before moving back. His skin tingles where Harry’s hand presses against him through his clothing and he wonders what it would be like to be touched just skin on skin.
“Can I John?” Harry pleads and John nods as the welcome mouth covers his. His time he’s panting with desire, the kissing making him hot and aroused. He’s never done anything like this before and he’s uncertain about what he is supposed to do when kissing a man. Harry is pressing closer and John lets him near, spreading his legs wide so that Harry can lean against him chest to chest. He blushes feeling Harry’s body just inches from his and knowing the other man must feel his growing erection. He gets kissed some more, his eyes closing with the contact only to flash wide when nibble fingers start to unfasten his waistcoat. He lets Harry push it off before he starts on his shirt.
“Harry,” John moans suddenly feeling very exposed. Harry smiles and pauses a moment before taking John’s hands and placing them on his chest. Soon John’s shirt is undone and Harry strokes over his pectorals and the pebbled nipples. John stops breathing a moment as Harry touches skin on skin. His flesh tingles and he shudders but it isn’t a bad feeling – instead it’s making him lightheaded with fast growing arousal.
“I’m cold John,” Harry whispers into his mouth before kissing him again. John nods and Harry presses them together, shirt against skin. His hands work under John’s shirt to stroke up and down his back. John doesn’t know where to put his hands but slowly they move Harry’s shoulders clenching the firm muscles as he is kissed repeatedly. Harry’s hot mouth finds his and they kiss with mounting passion. A very skilled tongue works against his making him moan and gasp. He lets Harry dominate, lets him take everything he wants from his mouth. Harry strokes his back moving down the long line of his spine before running back up his sides. His skin is so hot it burns where Harry touches him with firm, possessive hands. Harry is cooler than him, but every touch is burning him –inside and out. He should stop this. Should stop the other man stroking his back, stop him holding him so close and certainly stop his demanding mouth. John is beginning to feel a little uncomfortable because he is so very hard and there is no way Harry can miss it. It’s pressing against his stomach – hard and aching. He must be disgusted...but isn’t that what passion does to everyone? Harry’s arousing touch should have the affect he wanted – getting John hard.
John gasps and moans suddenly feeling so aroused and hot. His lower regions are throbbing with demands and he’s so damn confused. He wants to touch but is desperately afraid too.
“Lovely John,” Harry breathes into his mouth and John feels his resolve crumble again.
“Soft and lovely,” Harry repeats, now kissing around his mouth, his face then down his neck. “So warm.” A tongue licks the hollow of his throat, over his Adam’s apple and back into his mouth. More licking, sucking and then a bite. Harry bites and sucks his throat, creating a lovely painful red mark. He grins at the hickey before making another, a row of them down John’s throat as he listens to the amazing moans the human makes. Such a beautiful long throat made stunning bearing his teeth marks. He doesn’t touch anywhere below the waist just keeping this encounter to kissing and stroking. John is putty in his hands, confused and desperate. He can smell his arousal, can feel it pressed against him, but he holds back because John isn’t ready for that yet. He wants John to beg him to touch him – to love him. He wants to ask permission and have John say yes. He wants John to beg for it. It’s so wonderful, this lovely hot human corrupted by his mouth and hands, begging to be his. Begging for his Master.
Harry knows he has to stop this – he needs to stay in control but John’s amazing lips, body and moans almost break him. The man is begging to be fucked and hard. However, Harry’s resolve is stronger than his desire. Only when John begs for it will he claim what he wants. It is with force of will that he stops sucking on John’s throat and gives him one last kiss. Very gently he redresses John, covering pale skin with clothing, but his love bites are just visible around his collar. He shudders as John strokes his throat, eyes wide and mouth bruised from kissing. Soon he’s gone and Harry laughs, since his plan is moving along perfectly. He can sense John’s wonderful confusion, yet the human wants his attention even if his mind doesn’t realise it yet. Maybe, morality is holding him back but Harry is very confident he can easily strip away any barrier John puts up. John attempts to hide it but he is a very sensual creature and Harry could feel how much he wanted to be kissed and touched.
*****
John returns to his rooms shaken and aroused. He stops before the fireplace mirror and pulls his shirt collar down staring at his throat. A line of red bite marks cover his neck and he gently strokes them with a finger each one making his arousal burn brighter. He looks like one of those common sluts he’d seen in the poorer part of Nottingham. His lips are red and bruised but his eyes glow with passion. He strokes the marks once more, feeling his body shudder not with revulsion but with pent up desire. It’s wrong but he wants Harry to kiss him again, to touch, to stroke but above all, oh please – to take.
****
It’s late at night when all the boys should be tucked up in their dormitories; there is a knock at John’s door. He rises from his bed, wrapping a robe around him and opens it.
“Can I come in a moment, John?” Harry is standing in his doorway dressed just as he is but with a bright eyed, desperate look about him.
“Err...right...yes...yes, of course.”
John steps back letting the other man into his room and he shuts the door behind him. Suddenly John yelps as he is pushed up against the door with Harry sucking on his mouth. His surprised gasps quickly turn into a moans as he opens his mouth wide letting Harry’s wicked tongue inside.
“I wanted to kiss you goodnight,” Harry coos into his ear before moving down to lick and suck the bite marks around his neck. John shudders, his hand clutching at the wood surround and his nails digging in. He doesn’t know where to put himself, but his mouth disobeys him and kisses Harry back willingly. The slim body presses against his and he’s surprised to find that Harry isn’t soft at all, but is all wiry muscle and a solid length surges against his thigh. He whines unable to hold back causing Harry to kiss him with desperate pent up passion and desire. Harry’s hands travel the long line from hip to chest, making him shudder in his embrace.
“Har-Harry....I....I.”
“Goodnight John,” Harry breathes into his mouth and John stares gobsmacked into the hazel eyes. They sparkle in the dim light and John cannot turn away. They are like daggers digging into his mind and heart. Harry strokes him one last time and a quick hand slides over his hip. He cannot hold back the moan but in the next second Harry is gone and he’s alone once again.
John slides down the door and rests his head in his hands. He’s so confused, so bewildered by everything that is happening between him and Harry. It’s wrong to touch another man like this, but he’s never really thought about it – about kissing a boy’s – no man’s lips. Feeling the solid length of a male body against him. He’s not had that much experience with women either, he babbles too much and seems to drive them away as if he’s an impotent idiot. Harry however...Oh Harry, he doesn’t mind the babbling, the talking – he just kisses it all away. Harry holds him tight and doesn’t let go. He drives every logical thought from John’s mind until he’s speechless and aroused.
“What are you doing?” John moans into his knees. “It’s wrong, so wrong...Oh Harry...please...”
*****
John doesn’t see the Headmaster all next day during school time. That night he takes dinner in his rooms but when he finishes there is a knock at his door. He almost doesn’t reply, pretending that no one is here – but then reconsiders because he is a grown man and not one of the boys he teaches. He should act like the adult he is.
“John,” Harry breathes his name as soon as he opens the door and his knees go weak. Just to hear it from those lips makes John’s heart stutter a moment.
“Harry...I ....I...” John wants to say something to him, wants to put a stop to this but Harry is locking his door and he’s been walked backwards towards his couch.
“Lovely John.” Harry kisses his throat at the same time as he pushes John down onto the seat. Harry sits so close and before he can say anything those lips are on his. Cool hands are so sure, so demanding as they slide over his body and begin to undo the many buttons of his clothing. They stroke his neck making John shiver as his sharp teeth grazes the bites he’s already left on his flesh. He’s been touching those bites all day, stroking them, feeling the ache of pain and the sudden hit of arousal. He cannot stop fingering them even if it makes him feel guilty and weak.
Harry’s fingers make quick work of his shirt unbuttoning it, opening his collar and giving his neck a good lick.
“Oh,” John whines having wanted Harry’s mouth on him all day.
“Can I kiss you John?” Harry always asks permission, always gives him a choice. John’s stomach is filled with butterflies with the question and he doesn’t know how to answer. He doesn’t know how to say – Stop. Not to Harry who’s hard body presses against his, whose demanding mouth takes control of his – whose whole being seems to be bent on driving John into insanity. That is how John feels – insane with lust and want and need and so many other desires. Desires that are so deeply buried he didn’t know they existed until Harry awoke them. Now they won’t rest and John wants it all.
“I dreamed of you,” John gasps and nods his head allowing Harry to keep on kissing and licking his throat. The strong hands are moving again pushing the thin fabric of his linen shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. He doesn’t help or move, his body refuses to obey, but in no way does he refuse or prevent Harry from doing what he wants.
“Really? What was I doing?” Harry asks as he moves to caressing John’s chest. His fingers pull at the spattering of chest hair before finding a large brown nipple. He sucks and tugs at the nub making it pebble hard and aching. His fingers pinch and John moans with pleasure.
“Kissing me....touching me....we were....oh....”
Harry sucks the second nipple and his teeth nip at it hard.
“We were young...so young....You tied me to the bed...” John lets his head fall back, arching his back and pushing his chest into Harry’s hands or mouth.
“Did you like it, John? Those ropes around your wrists, holding you down?”
“Oh...Yes...” John hisses through his teeth as Harry bites him brutally. He likes that as much as the caresses, the hard nip of Harry’s teeth on his flesh and the marks he leaves behind.
Harry kisses him again, his hands stroking over John’s chest and sides. John moans and struggles forgetting that his shirt is holding his arms at his sides. It only makes him moan deeper at the feeling of restraint. He’s so hard, aching and he wants to tell Harry – to know if Harry is yearning for this too.
“Sit on my knee, John.”
John flushes bright red, the lovely colour stretching from his cheeks, down his naked neck all the way to the aching hard nipples. Harry flicks them causing him a little pain with his pleasure – and to his horror he needs it.
“Men don’t...” he gasps suddenly shy because this is moving way too quickly. He’s a gentleman...they don’t do this...but he can’t stop it.
“Sit in my lap, John,” Harry demands again and John shudders at the sharp tone. He slides to his feet before turning and facing Harry, who’s firm hands catch his waist. They led him down until his kneeling with one knee on either side of Harry’s hips. His cock is so hard and so obvious in this position that he lowers his eyes. Harry’s hands push his shirt down further pushing his arms behind him and he binds his wrists with the material. John almost stops him but remembers his dream. He was bound there too and it was the most erotic wet dream he’d ever had.
Harry’s hands stroke him again, moving over his chest, his sides and back. He lets his weight drop onto Harry’s lap and he’s pulled closer. His material covered cock rests against Harry’s stomach while he can feel that he is hard and the corresponding length throbs below him. Harry’s hands flow down his back and for the first time clutch his buttocks.
“What would you say if I asked to make love to you, John?” Harry’s face brushes his and he rubs smooth cheek against cheek. He feels Harry’s lips near to his and he cannot help but reach for them. He wants Harry’s tongue but to his frustration the other man leans back and speaks again, “Do you know how men love, John?”
John shakes his head as Harry’s strong hands kneed his buttocks. A long finger follows the line of his spine moving down over his trousers and pushing against his crack.
“I’d slide in just here,” Harry murmurs into his ear, kissing and licking the lobe. John shudders, his whole body arching, not away from Harry’s hands but into them. “That little virgin hole of yours, so tight for me. I’d have to open you up so slow, John. So carefully but you’ll let me in...Won’t you John?”
“It’s – it’s dirty...” John gasps though not really caring.
“What? You never touched yourself there?” Harry laughs making John feel a little annoyed.
“No – I-“
“Shhh....” Harry soothes him before kissing him once more. “I want to be the only one, John. The only one who can touch you.”
“Oh yes, please,” John whines not realising what it is that he’s agreeing too. Harry smiles against his skin and nibble fingers make quick work of his trousers.
“Can I, John?” Harry breathes into his ear, feeling the hot body lean into his. John sways on his lap, pushing his little behind into his hands while baring his throat for more biting kisses.
“I-I...Harry, yes...”
Is all John manages to hiss out as Harry kisses him again, moving one hand to his front and shoving it down into his trousers. John yelps as a firm hand grabs his hard cock, hot and weeping. It is stroked with quick movements until John groans and come covering Harry’s fingers. John collapses against him, his head on his shoulder and those wide eyes watch him as he brings a wet finger to his mouth. He sucks it clean as John shudders with pleasure at the sight.
“It’s mine, John. You’re mine.” Harry tells him and John cannot help but agree.
******
John awakens the next morning feeling sated and relaxed. He didn’t dream at all during the night to exhausted to do anything but sleep. He stretches out on the bed, his hands touching his stomach while one rubs his throat. He can still feel Harry’s marks on his skin, the twinge of pain as he touches the places his lover has. Oh yes, he has a lover. The word sounds forbidden but John finds the thought erotic because someone wants to touch him...own him in so many ways. Someone wants to take him. He can feel his body react becoming aroused just by the touch- the memory. He freezes. Harry had said it was his....He belonged to Saxon. To touch himself now would be wrong. His cock and his semen belonged to Harry, it wasn’t his. Just that thought of the other man...his lover had John aroused and hard in seconds.
John sits up and starts to dress savouring his arousal. Harry left last night after he came kissing his mouth and holding him tight until he was boneless. He’d kissed him goodnight then left, leaving John once again conflicted. It frightened him, the idea of taking Harry’s cock into his body – that wasn’t what it was there for never mind being rather small. Just the thought made him feel dirty. He just can’t imagine how it would feel. He wonders if Harry will visit him again tonight. He hopes so.
***
John is impatient all day waiting for night. He fingers his throat whenever he sees the headmaster which makes the other man smirk at him. He feels strangely exhilarated every time he senses Harry’s gaze on him – feeling his heat and desire. His body had throbbed with arousal all day and he’s never been so pleased that teachers wear long traditional robes here.
“John, you’re been playing with me all day,” Harry tells him as John opens the door after the first knock later that night.
“Naughty boys should get punished.”
“Harry...I-I...”
Harry kisses him pressing him against the hard wood of the door until all he can do is moan. Then he’s being manhandled over to this desk, Harry pushes items aside clearing a space before pressing John against it. The hard edge digs into his back as Harry kisses him again.
“You want to get punished, John?”
“Oh...I- No...Yes.”
John shudders as Harry turns him, bending him over the desk and untying the loose pyjama bottoms. Harry grins finding no underwear because his shy, lovely John is almost ready. Harry considers using the cane but instead ops for his hand as it is much more personal. He slaps the pale flesh making John gasp with the contact. He’s shivering again, that delightful little tremble he has when he’s not such which way to turn or what he should be feeling. Should he be leaning into the slap or away from it? John only received ten whacks from his lover’s hand and the pert bottom burns bright red. Harry runs his fingers up John’s spine, pushing the top out of the way loving the touch and feel of the pale flesh. There are miles and miles of it – pure, pale and just waiting for him to mark it.
“Off,” he orders surprised when John jumps up doing just that. He’s naked before him, while Harry is still dressed in his suit trousers and shirt.
“Lovely John,” Harry compliments him while kissing his mouth. He finds the tie from the PJ bottoms and pulls John’s arms back behind him, wrapping the cord around his wrists making John moan with arousal. He doesn’t pull away or complains just presses closer. His mouth open and begging for more. Harry continues where they left off yesterday and pushes him back onto the couch.
“Lap,” He orders as he sits, watching how John blushes before sliding onto his thighs. He’s hard and those dark lustful eyes don’t know where to look. “Right here, John.” Harry tells him pointing to his face and John’s lust blown eyes gaze into his. Harry watches how they darken to black as he strokes down John’s sides and back. He loves the way the human responds to him. So shy yet so passionate. John is easy to arouse and easy to control in his passion. His mind forgets what he should do and follows the dictates of heart and cock beyond all logical thought. Harry kisses him, pulling him into his embrace as he rubs the throbbing buttocks.
“Did you touch yourself this morning, John?” he whispers while kissing John’s lovely marked throat.
“No – I’m yours...” John moans his eyes closing as Harry continues caress his ass.
“All this is mine John,” Harry repeats to him, stroking over shoulders, chest and waist. He returns to the burning buttocks. “This is too.”
John moans unable to hold back and rocks on Harry’s lap. Harry holds him close – hot human skin burns through his clothing and every touch is like fire. His head is swimming in lustful need and raging desire. He wants his lovely John completely – to belong purely and only to him,
“Please,” John whines after the hot caresses, wanting Harry to do more than touch. Harry laughs but it’s not a cruel sound. It’s one that shows he desires a deep connection just as much as John does. Strong fingers flow down his spine, pressing and rubbing until they reach the top of his checks. A single digit presses between them, moving down until it reaches the new hole he wants to discover and claim. John jerks as Harry presses against the tight wrinkle of skin, encircling and just gently adding pressure. He removes it listening to John’s uncontrolled moan before sucking his finger into his mouth. John’s eyes are so dark, blow wide by want and he stares at Harry’s every move, mouth open and panting.
“Can I John?” he asks again and all John can do is nod. He doesn’t have any reference points for this, he doesn’t know what is happening to him – what Harry is doing. Wet fingers touch him again and this time it breaks though the barrier into his body. He yelps an undignified sound but he can’t hold it back. Everything he is feeling is so new – so strange – and so unexpected. It’s not really comfortable as the finger pushes into his body, there is an edge of pain but suddenly it brushes something hard inside him.
“Oh, Harry,” he breathes his whole body shuddering with never before experienced pleasure. It burns low in his gut and as Harry opens him a little more, looking for that wonderful spot, his cock throbs with the sudden need to come. A second finger is now pushed into him, making him whine with the pain but soon Harry has found that special spot again and batters against it. He pushes and rubs until John’s body responses automatically. He writhes and jerks in Harry’s lap, his body arching and his erection marking Harry’s suit with pre-cum.
“You want to come, my lovely?” Harry purrs, whispering into his ear while he keeps rubbing and caressing that forbidden spot.
“Yes! Yes, please.” There is no stuttering – no indecision this time. John arches his back, pulling at his bound wrists wanting to touch his painful erection.
“Come my lovely John,” Harry orders and John does just that. Harry rubs his prostrate all though his orgasm, making him jerk and writhe until he sobs in completion. He keeps rubbing as John tries to pull away as his body becomes over sensitive.
“Mine, John. Everything is mine,”
“Yes, Yes!” John cries, rocking mindlessly on Harry’s lap until finally he’s released. He slumps into the open arms, letting Harry hold him, resting his head on his shoulder, breathing in Harry’s wonderful scent. Harry clutches his butt, moving him back and forth over his hard erection. John moans letting him do anything he pleased and wondered what it would take to get that hardness inside him. What it would feel like – something so much larger than just a couple of fingers. What would it be like to have Harry’s throbbing cock fucking him – owning him? Joining them together?
“You want to do something for me, my lovely?” Harry enquires stroking his long spine.
“Anything.” Harry pushes him off his lap and John slides to the ground limply. He leans on Harry’s legs and moans as he’s positioned between his spread thighs.
“I want you to see what you do to me,” Harry tells him and John watches as those nibble fingers, which have just given him so much pleasure turn to unbutton his trousers. A long hard cock is revealed, surprising John with its width. He’s been to boarding school with other boys, he’d seen other cocks but this was so much nicer. Nicer that his long length. Harry strokes it while John watches him, wide eyed and not missing a thing. Harry laughs softly but continues to touch himself, until finally he comes covering his hands.
John moans, licking suddenly dry lips before bending over Harry’s lap. Harry jerks surprised, but ultimately pleased that John appears to be a very quick learner. John laps at his thigh, licking away a few drops of come making his softening cock twitch.
“You have such power over me, John. My beautiful lover.” Harry smiles as he watches John react to him, the way he preens at the compliment, his confidence growing at Harry’s hand. He willingly submits to him, letting Harry claim his body piece by piece – his mouth, his cock and soon his ass. Surprisingly, Harry realises he’s not lying to John. John is very attractive to him, tall (though a little over tall), lithe with amazing lips and eyes. Just what he likes – no more than that – John is perfection. John is like a boy he knew so long ago with pure innocent eyes and a welcoming smile.
Harry leaves after kissing John goodnight and unbinds his arms. John touches those lovely marks on his throat, aroused by the memory of the night and his lover’s hands on his body. It makes the human smile before the Time Lord leaves; he might be claimed by Saxon but John knows he’s wanted back.
************
John used to love his job. He’s not that thrilled with children but the loves the rich history that he talks about. Loves the people, the events and the way books speak to him. He loves the mystery and adventure. However suddenly, his job becomes less appealing because he’s committed himself to a new discovery. A strange unexpected adventure with a Headmaster who he’s currently waiting for. What they are doing is illicit and wrong, but there is no way John is going to stop even if he’s jailed for sodomy. This normal, reserved Englishman forgets decorum and loses himself to forbidden pleasure at Harry’s hand.
He’s at the door with the first knock, letting Harry in before he is being kissed again. He’s desperate for those lips and has been all day; dreaming and hoping for the hours to pass just to be back in his lover’s arms.
“I want it,” John breathes between kisses. Harry is hard against him, propelling him back against the wood – so strong and solid.
“Want what, John?” Harry asks, moving down to his throat alternating between biting, kissing and licking.
“I want you – inside me...taking me. I want to be yours...oh Harry, please.”
Harry wants to scream and dance with success. John is like putty in his hands – soft and malleable yet, hot and desperate. He wants to be held and touched and Harry wants to do all that and so much more. This human Doctor reveals what is truly hidden inside the distant and cold Time Lord. The Doctor’s only desire is to be loved. He’ll surrender his body, his mind, his soul just for Harry Saxon – The Master’s touch.
“Strip for me,” Harry commands, stepping back to watch as John nervously takes of his clothing. Smooth pale skin is revealed which Harry cannot help but stroke a hand over his chest and side. He pulls John too him, leading him over to couch and tugging him into his lap. John watches licking his lips as Harry unbuttons his trousers and pulls out the hard thick cock.
“Do you want a taste?” John looks at him inquisitively not sure what he means but quickly makes the connection. He nods sliding down onto the floor, his hands spreading Harry’s legs before he bends over the erect length. The cock twitches before him and he gives a tentative lick. It’s not terrible, but not completely as he expected. The flesh is hot, a deep rose red as it throbs on his tongue and the taste is a little salty. It is a taste he can learn to love because it is the very essence of his lover. John wants all he has to offer – especially his love and semen. Harry moans with the first touch and John watches his powerfully body flex and arch towards his mouth. He licks again enjoying Harry’s responses to his gentle touch. He beginnings at the lovely flared head of the cock licking around it and this time Harry gasps with need for him. Filled with power, John continues stroking the hard length before shaking hands push off.
“Too Much, John. I don’t want to come in your mouth.” John knows he should be disgusted at the suggestion but his mouth waters at the thought of Harry’s seed flowing over his tongue. He likes making Harry moan and move – watching that stern face relax in pleasure.
“Up here my pretty,” Harry calls to him and John blushes again. He likes the words Harry uses, likes to be called pretty and lovely because they say something else to him – they say he is wanted. John is desired, needed and it gives him an amazing power rush. Harry – hard as steel when outside this room, desperately needs to touch him when they are alone.
John returns to Harry’s lap, but instead the Time Lord turns him, so that he kneels on the couch beside him, up on his elbows with his ass in the air giving his lover easy access.
“First you need preparing. You’re so new – so tight, my lovely. You’ll squeeze my cock so well.” John can only nod as Harry strokes his flanks. He hears a bottle open and then wet fingers are pushed against his hole. He jumps still surprised by the strange touch but Harry continues to caress him gently. Two fingers push at his most intimate place before sliding inside and finding that wonderful nub. They rub a moment, making John shiver and moan again before returning to scissoring and stretching the tight muscle. It hurts a bit but John ignores the pain because he really wants this...No, he needs this. He has to give Harry everything; his body, his sex and his virginity.
“I’m going to be the only one to touch you, John.” Harry tells him, his fingers pushing and stretching with more force. “You’re mine – only mine.” A third finger enters and John yelps with pain before he’s stroked again relaxing as Harry’s pushes deeper. He’s losing his mind as his lover keeps finger fucking him, moving them in and out, spreading them wide and pulling on the outer ring. He feels like he’s opening up, his ass gaping a little as a fourth finger enters the tight heat. He scrambles to hold onto the couch and his fingers turn white as he grips the arm as pain burns, but soon he’s moaning and begging for more when it turns to pleasure.
“Please! Yours, Please!” The words drip from John’s mouth without thought or direction. He cannot think straight but his body knows what he needs – Harry.
“John, you’re mine!” Harry is pulling him back, back over his lap and the long hard cock is covered with petroleum jelly. He doesn’t like the smell but is beyond rational concerns so really doesn’t care. Harry’s hands hold his hips, moving him over the hard erection and impaling him. Fingers touch him again, spreading the hole as the flared head of Harry’s cock breaks into his body. Harry wriggles them, making it easier for John to spread his knees and slowly sink down onto Harry’s trembling thighs.
John has never felt like this. Never felt this connected to another person. His body trembles with pain but also desire. He feels himself opening up for Harry’s hard length, pushing inside him, making him moan in delight. Hands hold his hips guiding him down on the slow journey until he has to bite his fingers to stop shouting out as he’s filled with cock.
“Beautiful John,” Harry murmurs before kissing him again and pulling him into a warm embrace. He moans and shifts feeling the hard length push at his insides. There is pain but also so much pleasure. He never thought it would be so good or so wonderful having Harry inside him. Having his lover take him, own him, claim him...love him?
“Do you like it John? Like my cock splitting you open?”
“Yes, oh yes!” John cries clinging to the other man unsure what happens next. He almost doesn’t want to move because he’s never felt so united to anyone in his life. The feeling of fullness completes him. He’s joined to Harry and that sensation above all sends him over the edge. He covers Harry’s stomach but they don’t stop and his cock begins to harden once again.
“We are going to start moving, John,” Harry warns and John moans as those strong hands hold his hips again and guide him up. It pulls on his leg muscles, the perfect burn to counteract the ache inside him. He rises up feeling Harry’s hard length pulling out before he sits down again. He gasps surprised by the pleasure, the way Harry opens him, the way his cock batters again that special place. Harry moves one hand between them, pushing against his tight ring and feeling where they are joined.
“So tight John, so perfect.”
John closes his eyes unable to take any more stimulation. His cock aches with need and his body burns with desire and...
“Harry!” he cries, coming between them as a thick finger pushes up inside him and rubs his gland. He arches, writhes – his pleasure peaking when suddenly a wet heat spreads within him heightening his orgasm. Their bodies cling to each other, hot and aching with pleasure but unwilling to let go.
“Mine, John,” Harry whispers into his ear, pushing his sweat wet hair from his face. He nods smiling and curls around the other man, holding him inside his body as long as he can.
Harry doesn’t leave that night, he gets hard again locked inside John’s tight passage but this time pushes him to the floor. He turns John onto hands and knees, the new position allowing him to fuck hard and fast. John loves every second. His ass burns and aches but he doesn’t care. Harry doesn’t hold back and the next morning he sees wonderful bruises all over his hips and thighs. Harry had gone with the morning light and John wishes it was once again night. Or he was in a world where it was just the two of them, and he would be Harry’s forever. He wonders if he can have that. That he could have a lasting relationship with his lover...like a marriage. Unfortunately it would have to secret, kept from the light of day and away from an intolerant society...but John doesn’t want to keep it hidden like it was a dirty secret because it’s not. He loves Harry; where the wrong in that?
He dresses slowly, taking pleasure in how his body aches in new and wonderful ways. He can still feel Harry inside him, that thick cock pushing him open. Feeling Harry’s fingers massaging his prostate. He’d touched him there all night, fingering and licking until they were both hard again. He wants to touch his body as he basks in the memories of last night, but he doesn’t.
He belongs to his master.
*****
“Strip for me, my lovely John.” They are the first words Harry says to him when he arrives later that night. He closes and locks the door behind him, watching as John takes off his bed clothes, standing naked and proud before him. There are bruises on those lovely hips and thighs making Harry want to bite and scratch even more.
“Harry...I want...”
“Shhh....I know what you want.” Harry kisses him and John loses himself within his lover’s touch. Strong arms wrap around him, holding him, oh so tight to Harry’s hard body. Hard and compact and perfect. John shivers so beautifully against him, not in fear but desperate need and Harry loves every second. This shy reserved man opens to him so perfectly wanting to be taken, owned, hurt, controlled...well, basically his.
Harry binds his hands behind him again; making John moan and that lovely hot human cock gets impossibility harder. Tonight, Harry pushes him to lie back onto the couch in a new position. This time he faces his lover and moans loudly with delight as Harry kisses him. It is a little uncomfortable with his bound hands behind his back, but the painful arch only heightens his pleasure. Harry climbs onto the couch between his legs; he throws one over the back while he bends the other up towards John’s chest exposing his hole. Harry can think of nothing but being inside the hot, tight body. All day he’s been hard, wanting to throw John over the nearest piece of furniture and just fuck him in front of everyone. However, then he’d have to kill them because that skin is his and his alone. There won’t be anyone else touching or looking ever again. He fingers John roughly loving how the human surrenders to him. His body opening up even though it must hurt without lubrication and after a long night of fucking less than 24 hours ago. He could do anything to John. Anything and he knows John would allow it and would want him all the more.
He thinks about taking and just pushing inside but holds himself back just long enough to lubricate both he and John. He thrusts in, holding one leg open as he bends over John, resting on his thighs as he is fully impaled. John whines and pants and writhes. So perfectly, Harry thinks. He fucks hard and fast taking everything, feeling more desire as John willingly gives it. His hands make dark black bruises on John’s legs but he never stops writhing against him - never stops begging for more.
Harry uses his strength making John yelp with each thrust – yelp and cry – and beg. Oh he begs, so perfectly. He pleads with Harry to use and keep him. And oh, how Harry wants to do just that.
“Mine,” Harry snarls as his cock swells and he comes inside his human lover. As he fills the hot channel, it triggers John’s orgasm covering their stomachs completely untouched. Harry falls forward and the warm human body cradles him. He doesn’t withdraw instead he puts his Time Lord abilities to work and makes himself hard again. John just whines, his body opening up once again as he begs for Harry’s thick cock to pound inside him.
His hands wrap around the soft fragile human throat watching as John’s eyes widen but he doesn’t fight – doesn’t pull away. He moans. His thumbs rest on the Adam’s apple and he pushes hard. He could break this fragile neck just by tightening his grip a little more. He feels John respond to him. He doesn’t fight but pushes up and that hot human cock gets hard again.
“My beautiful slut,” he whispers into John’s ear and he moans with agreement. He releases a little of the pressure, letting John breathe as he fucks him again. John is so desperate - so perfect, Harry can feel the burning desire in the human just from his touch. He’s on the edge of consciousness but his perfect human lover just gives up more. Precious human lover he decides. John is his opposite – where the Doctor would never have done, John bends and breaks so perfectly. He willingly submits and wants to be his.
The hot human’s dick comes a second time as he fights for breath. His body alive with sensation and Harry kisses him. He’s made his mind up. It’s time to end this – but not in the way he expected.
**********
“Mr Smith!” a cry comes from outside his door and he quickly opens it to reveal the maid, Lucy. It is late afternoon and he has just returned to his rooms from teaching. He’d hoped to eat, bathe and then prepare himself for his lover’s arrival later. John has never felt so alive as he does now. His body aches, it is covered in bites and bruises but he’s never felt so happy – so complete.
“Please come quickly, sir,” Lucy cries in a panicked tone. “Something’s happen to the Headmaster.”
John swallows suddenly afraid and runs to help, terrified of what he might discover. Lucy leads him into the headmaster’s officer where he’s surprised to find two strange looking scarecrows and a very annoyed young man.
“Baines?” he enquires, shocked when he identifies the boy from his class. Baines has the strangest eyes, blank and white which terrify John since he is unable to understand what has possessed the boy. He doesn’t know the look of one in deep hypnosis and controlled by a certain Time Lord. The boy is holding a strange looking gun and pointing it directly at Harry’s head.
“It’s you,” Baines snarls turning to stare at the human teacher. “Turn back!”
“What? Please, let him go. We can sort this...you’re under a lot of stress...”
“Shut up!” Baines yells. “Get rid of that stupid human body and turn back!”
John looks from the scarecrows to the insensible boy. He’s not sure what to do; how to stop them and he’s so scared – scared for Harry. He can’t lose him...not now.
“John, please! Remember your journal John, remember what you wrote...they aren’t dreams!” Harry gasps, looking scared and terrified as the strange weapon presses firmly against his head.
“Journal? My dreams?” John replies startled unable to comprehend what Harry means.
“I’m so sorry sir, I stole it – I’m so sorry,” the maid weeps handing him a silver pocket watch with strange symbols on the outer face. John recognises the watch, he’s always had it and it never worked...hadn’t he? Yet, it was like this was the first time he’d ever seen it.
“It was in your dreams – it’s true!” Harry manages to say, his body slowly crushed by the scarecrow that holds him. “I’m so sorry John, I didn’t know. Baines found it...I’m so sorry.”
“Open it!” Baines screams at John.
John feels like crying, screaming because he doesn’t understand what is happening. Yet, as Lucy hands him the watch he can hear it. He can hear the voice – his voice and it’s begging him, pleading with him to open the watch. A part of him wants to obey and open it but another goes cold at the thought. What would it mean to him or to Harry? Will he lose everything...again? Will all the things he loves and hold dear be ripped from his heart? Will he forget what he feels as this moment?
“What happens?” John asks tentatively cradling the watch in his hands.
“You turn back!” Baines screams and hits Harry across the face.
“He means you stop being human,” Harry gasps looking at John with such pain filled eyes.
“You knew?” John hisses in shocked surprise and feeling betrayed.
“I didn’t – not then. I swear John, I didn’t know. Not until I saw the watch.”
“What happens to me?” He can hear the voices from the vessel – it’s his voice but he doesn’t recognise the tone or inclination. He doesn’t understand the words it whispers. It is him...Yet, not.
“You die...” Harry whispers tears shining in his eyes.
“That’s it then? I become nothing? Nothing? Just a story in a journal?” John is angry now, hurt and afraid. “What are you to him?” He growls at Harry wondering if that other person had Harry as he did. Was owned by him? He is burning with human jealously because he won’t let Harry go – not even to another version of himself.
“I was a friend – a long time ago. I didn’t recognise the new face – I fell in love with you, John. My lovely John.” There are tears in Harry’s eyes and John feels like he’s been shot.
“I’m alone?” John gasps watching Harry’s face sadden and he knows the answer. He’s so very alone.
“Open it!” Baines screams pushing the gun thing harder into Harry’s head.
“You felt it? You heard the voices?” John asks Lucy who sobs at his feet, shivering with fear.
“I was so afraid,” she weeps. “I was so afraid of what was in the watch. He terrified me. He’s like fire and ice and rage! He’s like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun.”
“Stop it,” John begs not wanting to hear anymore. “Please.”
“He’s ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe.”
“Stop it!”
*Closer.* John looks down at the watch whispering to him and he feels it. The pull of ancient power hidden inside the sleeping watch and it calls to him, wants him to let go...to die. To surrender to someone who isn’t Harry.
“I’ll die – you want to execute me?” John whispers falling to the ground in a heap. He stares at the watch and the watch stares back.
Suddenly there is a scuffle and John can only watch wide eyed. Using stronger than human abilities, Harry wrenches his body free from the Scarecrow holding him and dives to the side just as Baines fires the terrible gun. Unfortunately for the Scarecrow he is now in the direct path of the weapon and crumbles into dust before their eyes. Harry is moving again, quick and light on his feet as he back hands Baines, throwing the boy back and catches the flailing gun. He doesn’t pause just pulls the trigger and kills the ‘possessed’ boy. His scheme has come full circle and with desperation he turns to his victim...no, his prize. His lovely, beloved John – his human Doctor.
“NO!” Harry shouts covering John’s hand over the watch face keeping it firmly closed. He collapses to the floor, pulling John to him and holding so tightly. He kisses the tear wet face as John clings to him, trembling in his arms but Harry has made his decision and there will be no turning back.
“Others will come? They will want the watch...its power?” John asks and Harry can only nod.
“I fell in love with you,” the Time Lord admits, tenderly kissing his beloved human...his lover.
“You will leave me?”
“I can’t stay...”
Harry kisses him deeply, their mouths and tongue joining with desperate need just as their bodies do. John’s hands clutch his soft jacket and Harry cradles the Human’s face looking into his eyes and hoping he can see everything he’s trying to reveal.
“I’m not leaving you behind,” Harry informs him. “There is a way. It would mean a sacrifice...but we can be together.”
“I don’t understand?” John cries. Inside he pleads for Harry’s words to be the truth. He doesn’t want to die but they cannot fight more like Baines just for the watch. He cannot see Harry hurt just because he’s a weak human.
“I bond with you, only with you, my beloved John. It binds who you are to me, the watch has power but it won’t override you. You can be with me forever, my beloved.” Harry kisses him again, harsh and deep, nipping at his lips with a touch of pain just as John likes it. “You’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” John reaffirms, giving up everything because he refuses to lose this - refuses to lose Harry. “Just yours.” With relief he hands the watch to Harry, sacrificing all he was because he loves him – loves him completely and he is willing to die for that love.
Harry kisses him and smiling widely opens the watch.
*****
“So where to next?” The Master asks watching his lover bounce around the Tardis. He’s dressed differently now, a tight pinstriped suit with trainers. John’s eyes are the same as human him though the hair is styled differently. All of which the Master finds very appealing. Everything is the same...yet, different. The main one – he’s no longer human but Time Lord.
“What am I?” John asks again feeling confused and disorientated. He feels so strange, there is a powerful double heartbeat inside his chest and his mind is filled with unbelievable and wonderful things. And yet, at the same time he feels...human. He is awed by the splendour of everything the Master shows him – of the Time Lord himself. He is in awe of his powerful body, his mind and the bond that binds him to his lover. Harry is there inside him – a bright raging sun that burns away John...the Doctor’s doubts and fears. The bond lets him be who he truly is – not the Doctor and not John. He is Harry’s lover. The Master’s mate. Just his.
“Mine,” Harry replies, pulling his lover close and kissing him. The Doctor presses against him, surrendering completely to the Master’s biting kiss.
The Master grins, kissing his beloved and activating the Tardis. He’s won. He’s broken the Doctor, broken him into tiny little pieces just by loving him. He gave himself and the Doctor sacrificed everything in return...even his sanity. The immense mind of a Time Lord is splintered and that’s all down to him. His wonderful handiwork. His beautiful destroyed creature – his lover and there in the centre of the Doctor’s mind is him. The watch passed the Doctor’s essence though his insanity, twisting and turning it into something new. Something wonderful – something so entirely his.
John – the Doctor is completely his. Yet, he doesn’t realise in the end it’s a double victory; for the Doctor has won the Master’s heart and soul in return. He has tempered the wild beast and he’ll never be alone again.