The Master curled his fingers tighter in Jack's hair, feeling the sting in Jack's scalp as he did so, hearing the hiss of breath released. The familiar edge it added to the building arousal. Picking up the Doctor's frantic want, and returning it as hungry need.
Jack flexed his fingers, wanting to reach down and slide them into the Doctor's hair, to trace the twists and curves and scraps of poetry that danced at the edges of his mind into the Doctor's skin. He shifted, arching into the Doctor's kisses instead, letting out a soft groan.