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There was something attached to his back. Like a koala. Or perhaps one of those creatures from the wretched Earth film named “Alien” or something equally offensive. He couldn’t quite remember. Either way, there was something latched onto his back. Something large, something heavy. Something that was currently letting out little snores that would’ve perhaps been cute if he was a child and not a 900 year old Time Lord. He was also drooling.
The Master had no idea how to wiggle out of this predicament. The Doctor was latched onto him like a barnacle—an admittedly cute barnacle, not that he would ever say that out loud—and was most likely fast asleep, evident by the soft snoring. Which he really needed to stop finding cute. He wasn’t supposed to find things cute. Especially not the Doctor.
The Doctor who he knew was currently snuggled against his back, happy and content, face buried in the Master’s neck, making the occasional contented noise. Which was not cute. Not at all. It was annoying, that’s what it was. Annoying that despite his many atrocities, the Doctor still loved him with a force so deep and unwavering that it could extinguish a sun. That no matter what he did, the Doctor would still let him kiss them silly, even if it took a little forgiveness. That they were two binary stars, circling and dancing around each other, but always in each other’s orbit, as partners.
The Doctor gave another soft snore. The Master knew how much he didn’t enjoy sleeping. It wasn’t very good for his health, but since when did the Doctor care about his health? Who needed sleep when there were puzzles to be solved? He also knew that the Doctor especially hated sleeping around other people. He needed to appear strong and mysterious and whatnot, the dork. He wasn’t going to tell him that it just made him look crazier than usual.
Rassilon’s balls, the Doctor was making him soft. He gritted his teeth. He wasn’t supposed to care this much, especially about one idiot Time Lord. The only other Time Lord. Even if they were admittedly cute.
Enough droning on. Back to the matter at hand. There was a very cute, very skinny, and very fast asleep Time Lord plastered to his back, and he had no idea how to wiggle his way out without waking them up. And they were much more tolerable asleep. Less talkative. He slowly reached up and started to lift the Doctor's arm off him. Said Time Lord made a sleepy and unhappy noise and just nuzzled in closer.
He cringed. Why did something so small and stupid make his insides feel weird and fuzzy? He wasn’t a damned child in the academy anymore. He didn’t do feelings anymore. He mentally kicked himself, prying the Doctor’s arm off of him. For all of five seconds before it firmly reasserted itself. He turned his head. The Doctor was definitely asleep, brow furrowed even as he snored. “No,” he murmured, voice near incomprehensible from sleep.
The Master growled. He hated this and he hated the fact that he liked this. Maybe even craved it. He tried to move the Doctor’s arm again, only for him to let out a noise so sad and pathetic that he gave up on trying entirely. He resigned himself to a few more hours of sleep, clingy Time Lord and all.