The Master gave in to desire, drums and lust swirling together in his head and urging him to kiss deeper and harder and more completely. He gasped at the sting in his scalp when the Doctor pulled at his hair and moved his own hand to the Doctor's hair, but instead of pulling he stroked with the flat of his hand, holding the Doctor against him. He allowed himself to be bent even further backwards, relying almost entirely on the Doctor's weight against him to stop him sliding down, and he didn't trust him not to just move away and let him fall, but he didn't care either, because this - this - was what it was all about. This was the Doctor, right here, right now, pressed against him and wanting him and he'd do almost anything for this.