Turlough, Turlough (SWF edit)

Chapter 6: Five, Ten, Turlough, Turlough

Turlough still found it hard to believe what an uncomplicated creature the Doctor could be.

The boy in the Brendon School tie let the centuries-old passion of this wiry new Doctor run over him, devouring kisses delivered to stunning effect, shoving his clothes aside, tearing off his jacket and tie.

But Turlough's eyes were on his older self, up against the wall, and the blond touching him with such easy, erotic reverence.

The seals of Turlough's uniform split like torn tinfoil. The younger Doctor's hands roamed over the flight shirt, black and snug, peeled it off, revealing a torso paler and slightly bulkier than the one he was used to. "You're beautiful," he said, running his palms up and down Turlough's chest. Their eyes locked, mirroring expressions of hope and lust and muted sadness. "You were always so beautiful. You always made me want... Want to know you."

The Trion kissed the blond Time Lord, that perfect familiarity warming him, safe and true like nothing else in his life. "I only wanted to use you," Turlough confessed against his Doctor's mouth, and felt those hands falter. "But you know who you are. What you are. The kind of man a god can't manage to destroy. You made me."

The Doctor's warm sigh was rendered into a squeak by his constricted throat. His Turlough might lie about such a thing, but he sensed this one would not, and the words filled in some of the cracks in his soul. Another friend who had left the TARDIS more complete than when they had arrived. Another lover he had never let down.

"Thank you, Turlough," the Doctor said thickly, his long body pressing up against Turlough's, wanting that comforting contact.

"There's.. there's something you could do for me, Doctor," the Trion said softly.

"Anything-"

"I just need to hear you say it," Turlough began to explain.

"I -"

Turlough cut him off with a kiss, hands moving to the Time Lord's shoulders. He pushed him back and looked into the Doctor's waiting face.

"Tell me you forgive me."

Heartbreakingly solemn, the Doctor stared into Turlough's eyes, so deeply he felt the man's mind begin to suspect his presence. "Of course. I'm sorry I ever left you in doubt of that."

But Turlough's gaze jumped. "I meant... For leaving you."

The Doctor's eyes glittered with pure sentiment. "Nothing to forgive."

"Ah."

"Turlough. Of course I'll miss you. Of course it will hurt. But my hearts are strong, you know. I've lived hundreds of years just like the ones you spent with me, loved and lost. You just can't keep a good Time Lord down."

"You could've just said 'I forgive you,'" Turlough complained, letting the Doctor's mouth drop gently biting kisses all down his neck.

"I forgive you," the Doctor said.

Turlough turned his head and glimpsed the young, ice-blue eyes he knew were watching. He couldn't suppress a smile.

(very very raunchy things happen)

The Doctor's pale eyebrows raised in resignation. "I do hope Tegan forgives us for this."

"You don't understand Tegan. You never did."

"Oh, and you do, do you?" the brunette Doctor sniped over at the older Trion.

"She doesn't love me," the younger Turlough supplied. "She can just relate to me. And cheating is human, Doctor. She'll be angry - but she'll feel settled."

(very very raunchy things happen)

The older Doctor was on the point of feeling endeared to the younger Turlough, when he realised the boy was in fact watching the other couple.

"Turlough," he began, in a tone that promised obnoxiousness, "why bother to seduce me when it's clearly him you're interested in?"

"Jealous of yourself?" Turlough snarked. "Doctor, really."

"Well it is a bit galling, playing second fiddle to myself, when I've come all this way."

(very very raunchy things happen, and Ten gets all melancholy cause he's still stuck in his own head cause he's a goober)

Suddenly Turlough was close. "Are you all right?" the boy asked, under his breath.

"Um, what?" the Doctor mumbled, panicking a little. "Fine, fine, never been better."

"Because you seem to be... not exactly enjoying yourself. Not that it's any of my business."

The Doctor's head drooped. The poor boy, so ready for his care to be dismissed. But he had dismissed Rose's, hadn't he? After all she'd done for him. That wasn't any better. And now he couldn't even apologise.

So many mistakes...

"I'm a little bit of a wreck," he muttered. "It's a pity the Black Guardian didn't wait a few centuries. I'd probably make an easier target now." It was easy to be flippant, now the Guardians seemed to have vanished altogether. He sighed, feeling Turlough frown at him in thoughtful confusion. "Then again, these days I'd probably go ahead and try to destroy him, and damn the balance. I seem to have got just a tad vindictive." He gave the boy a serious look. "You fought that battle alone. I'll always be proud of you, Turlough."

"He knew I wanted you."

"What?"

"The Black Guardian knew I wanted you. I keep wondering if he always knew I would. If that's why he chose me. Just for the irony."

"I'm sorry."

Turlough's eyes flashed. "Don't be. It's why he lost."

"He lost because Vislor Turlough is nobody's pawn," the Doctor said firmly.

"But I was! I absolutely was. He lost because I didn't- because you were-" his eyes flicked to the ceiling, darted around the room, looking for inspiration. "Because you're the Doctor."

The Doctor still felt guilty, but he couldn't help but smile.

(more raunchy things happen. The younger Turlough decides to make problems for everybody by tapping out and challenging the other three to entertain him, but he bit off more than he can chew)

The watching Turlough shifted restlessly against the gleaming brass at the head of the bed. He tried to straighten his hopelessly crushed and twisted shirt. His fingers hovered near his neck, fumbling at his naked collarbone. He knew he was twitching, slim limbs jerking of their own accord. He would have put on a scowling, haughty expression to cover his self-consciousness, but the other him and the two Time Lords weren't exactly paying attention. He watched his Doctor's face, resigned to bliss, and wondered if he'd ever truly see that again.

His eyes played over that soft face, fascinated. He'd got so used to looking at it, yet now he found himself completely and undeniably infatuated. Of course, he'd always thought the Doctor was sexy enough. But since the other Turlough had arrived, he had lost his detachment, his best survival skill. But not because this strange version of himself could wear an officer's uniform again with confidence. Not because the man made him feel so blasted immature.

The Turlough he would be someday was full of a simple, pure, steadfast devotion to the Doctor - while he himself hardly felt sure of anything. He'd been happy to forget about that, throwing himself into this conspiracy, but it had shaken him, and only shook him more as he watched himself, the way he fit, jigsaw-perfect, with the Doctor. The games he'd been playing with his friends, his loyalty, were stupid after all.

Turlough stared.

The older Doctor grinned to himself. He was thinking of the tables unturned, the lonely moment they'd shared back on Turlough's ship. He'd never imagined they'd find themselves here, in a friendly, sexy yesterday. Technically, he supposed, he owed it all to Turlough.

He looked over at the young Trion, sitting an arm's reach away at the head of the bed. The boy's eyes snapped to meet his curious gaze, thin bands of icy color bordering deep, inky arousal. With attention on him, Turlough's act flipped on, a skittering gaze, a muscle jumping in the jaw. But the Doctor just grinned, hopelessly endeared, watching those pale lashes flutter down.

"Come here and kiss me, you lovely little viper," he teased warmly.

Turlough stayed where he was, his eyes aimed at the bed in front of him, but the Doctor knew he was still watching.

"Come on, Turlough, please?"

"You didn't want any of this to happen."

"Well, it's, you know. Against the laws of time."

"But you joined in anyway. Why?"

"Couldn't you tell? I did it cause I find you... utterly... irresistible," he answered. "Didn't I say? I always have."

"So. An impulse."

The Doctor gave him a quick, apologetic look. "I may be a bit stupid. Rash, I meant rash."

"It seems you haven't changed that much. Doctor." Turlough reached out and slid a hand over his shoulder, up his neck, leaning forward on one arm to close the distance.

The Doctor smiled against the hesitant mouth that touched his, kissed back as thin fingers slipped into his hair. The younger Turlough kissed him hard and long, passionate and indelicate.

Turlough watched the Doctor coax his younger self back into their fold, watched his own slim body unfold and stretch out before them to kiss the less familiar Time Lord.

He saw the tension in his own shoulders, remembered his confusion. For so long it had seemed as though the Doctor thought he was nothing. The way the Doctor always held that sort of mild curiosity towards him, unchanged by assassination attempts or betrayal or loyalty or even blatant sexual interest - as if the Trion was no more than some interesting, harmless creature.

But after this things had been clear. He had understood how deeply the Doctor felt, and how much he'd been relying on the Time Lord's undemandingly steady presence, without realizing it. His memories were full of the days to come, tenderness and friendship, trust, mistrust and heat. And the sadness of leaving. And the strange, distant meetings. And then this newest Doctor and his raw need.

How he had longed to be needed. It knotted his stomach and burned in him. It was perfect. They were perfect, and he was perfect, at last.

The younger Turlough broke the kiss and looked up at him. He met his own eyes, watched his own heart open just a little, hopelessly, terrifyingly vulnerable.

(a whole bucket of very very raunchy things happen until everybody is done being raunchy)

"Tegan won't be back till morning," the older Turlough said. "No need to rush."

"I hate to disagree," the older Doctor sighed. He groaned loudly and fitfully as he partially extracted himself from the tangle of Doctor-limbs. "I mean, I really hate to disagree... but when I say I really shouldn't be here, it's honestly with a little more urgency than usual. Turlough-mark-two and I really ought to be off and out of this timeline's hair as soon as we can."

"Surely you could stay for a nice hot bath, at least," the Doctor protested, saddened at how very quickly the magic had gone.

"I really shouldn't," the older Doctor insisted. He squinted at the blank ceiling before continuing with the same breath. "Well, really though, what's one bath? All right."