Title: Is It My Body
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen & one-sided Master/Doctor
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 1, 50ficlets
Prompt: 17, Body
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor stood looking at himself in the full-length wall mirror that hung in the dressing room by his bedroom on the Tardis, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

How long had it been since he'd stood here like this and contemplated this body that he'd been given on his last regeneration? It seemed like years, though it had probably been a much shorter time than that since he'd last studied himself.

It really was a nice body. A little too thin, but that was due to the fact that he didn't eat much. And he would much rather be thin than be too portly -- if he was, then he certainly wouldn't be able to make it out of dangerous situations as easily as he could.

He almost laughed to himself at that thought. Getting out of some of the situations he'd been in since he'd had this body definitely hadn't been easy. In fact, he almost felt that he'd faced more danger in this incarnation than in any other.

The face was one that had gotten him into trouble on a few occasions. At times he almost disliked the fact that he was good-looking.

He certainly hated how it drew women to him -- women that he didn't want. There had been more than one sticky situation with companions, women he hadn't wanted in a romantic way who had wanted him. He shuddered at the memories.

Even telling them that he hadn't felt that way about females hadn't stopped them from trying to make him change his mind. But their attempts hadn't worked -- he had never thought of them as anything but good friends, and never would.

That was one of the reasons he was alone now, he told himself with a sigh. He didn't want to deal with that sort of problem again. It had escalated from annoying the first time, to exasperating with the second one. No more.

It didn't matter to him if his preference for men might be frowned upon. He wasn't going to pretend any longer that his interests didn't lie in that direction.

Would any man look at this body and want it? His teeth dug savagely into his lower lip as he studied his body, coldly, calmly. He was trying to see himself in the light that another man would look at him -- a man who wanted a lover.

Why wouldn't anyone want him? He wasn't unattractive; even though his body was thin, he wasn't emaciated. Fragile, yes, but there was an inner core of strength that belied the vulnerable look most people seemed to be attracted to.

Oh, all right, so that was more mental than physical. And he couldn't deny that he wasn't exactly the dominant type in bed. But still .... this wasn't a body that most people would turn away from. Quite the opposite, in fact.

So why did he feel that he wouldn't be able to find anyone who wanted to be with him? Why did he feel so .... unattractive?

That was due to the Master, of course. The way that he'd reiterated over and over again the last time they'd met that no one would ever want the Doctor the way that he did, that no one would ever satisfy a Time Lord the way another Time Lord could.

That wasn't true, the Doctor told himself fiercely. He didn't want the Master, even if the other man wanted him. He didn't want that monster to touch him again. He didn't want to remember how those hands had felt on his body, how the other man had defiled him.

And he certainly didn't want to remind himself that a part of him had enjoyed what had happened between them. A dark, secret, buried part of him that he never wanted to come to the surface. A part of him that he was deeply ashamed of.

He liked this body. He wanted to keep it for a while. A long time, if that was possible. It was the most attractive body he'd ever had.

But he didn't want to attract the Master with how he looked. And there was no doubt that the other Time Lord had conceived some sort of passion for him -- a passion that was not only dangerous, but that could bring him to the brink of disaster .... and beyond.

The Doctor turned away from the mirror, shoulders slumped, feeling defeated. He was in this body, and he wasn't going to regenerate into another one until he absolutely had to. He would just have to deal with the Master in whatever situation that fate threw them into.

He bent to pick up his clothes, pulling on his shirt and trousers, his fingers fumbling with the buttons as he pulled the fabric into place. He wasn't sure just how he was going to deal with this problem, but he hoped that he'd find a way when the time came to face it.

***