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“Did she say when she'd be done?”
“Huh?” The Master hummed sleepily. He was quite literally covering her with his own body like it was some sort of – undoubtedly handsome – blanket, his head resting on her chest and fingers interlaced with her own.
“Clara.” Yaz reminded, finger of her free hand drawing nonsense shapes on his back; he seemed to enjoy it quite a bit, his eyes falling close the moment she started that. “You said she's doing some TARDIS maintenance and will be with us shortly.” And then he dragged her into the nearest room where they could lay down. Without asking her for an opinion on being his personal, living pillow. Not that she really disliked it; so she let him place her down on a couch and rest on top, which was about fifteen minutes ago. He was getting a little heavy by now, honestly.
“Nonsense. Clara doesn’t do ship maintenance, I do.” His head moved, but if Yaz had any hopes to be freed, they disappeared quickly when he simply pressed his face into the crook of her neck, making it very obvious what he really was craving: more skin to skin contact. Well, unfortunately for him, he had to deal with what he already got. As comfortable as she got around him in the last couple of days, it wasn’t to the point where she’d undress in his presence. Way too early for that.
Never say never, though. After all, if someone told her a few months ago that she’d be cuddling on a couch with the Master, she’d laugh in their face. Oh, how times change.
“Then why did you say so?”
“Said what.” He sighed into her skin, clearly not focused on their conversation at all.
Yaz tried to be patient, despite his hair tickling at her jaw. “That Clara is doing maintenance.”
“Ah. I lied.”
Yes, that was quite obvious and honestly, Yaz couldn’t even find it in herself to be mad at him for lying. Not when it was actually quite obvious why he did it, the reason heavy on her chest and melting into her so dearly she could feel his double heartbeat, calm and slow.
There were much worse things he lied about in his life and doing so to get some cuddles was possibly the most innocent reason he’s ever had.
Which didn't mean she shouldn't try to push him just a tiny bit for that so she decided to remind him: “We were supposed to spend time together, all three of us.”
“Yeah but then we'd get up and do things you guys planned. I thought I could get what else I wanted before that. You're going to tattle on me to mommy Clara for that?” He asked when she pulled out her phone (not without some trouble, with the item being trapped in her pocket, between the living weight on top of her and the backrest of the couch).
“Sort of. I'm going to text her where we are. When she comes, we'll see what can be done about changing plans a little bit.”
“Plans are fine. As long as they happen after.”
“Then we'll see what can be done about postponing them for half an hour or so. Until then, though… I reckon we still have a few minutes before Clara gets here.”
The way he almost purred into her neck told her he was going to do his best to melt into her in those remaining moments. And she was going to enthusiastically allow it, so she simply wrapped her arms around him in a loose hug.
There was a risk that once Clara would arrive, she’d simply join them and Yaz would have to survive the weight of two people craving her closeness; fortunately, she was more than willing to take that sweet risk.