The Doctor let out a little whimper, and not it pain, as he surged into the kiss. Well, not physical pain. His mind couldn't help to flash back to his conversation, weeks ago, with his alternate self. Who clearly judged him for needing this, and seemed to be blind to the Master's need, buried under the madness, and his hearts broke a bit for them both.
Fuck it. He'd pour everything he had into this, because he wanted to, and hope that the Master came out oh so slightly better in some way. Maybe capable of having an actual conversation with his own Doctor.