Silver

Disclaimer: Isn't it obvious that I don't own Doctor Who?

A/N: So my most recent fic (after this one!), Golden, started off as a one-shot but after watching EoT last night, I've decided to turn it into a series of drabbles focussing on different metals and the changing teenage relationship of Theta and Koschei (aka MiniDoctor and MiniMaster). So here's the second one. It's slash so I have to say, don't like, don't read but if you have no problems with it then enjoy! Oh, yeah, and if I've spelt Rassillon wrong, please could someone let me know 'cause I like to get things right in my work =]

A/N Take Two: Please remember that all reviews are greatly appreciated so once you've finished reading, have a go at pressing the purdy li'l button at the bottom of the page...Pretty please with an even prettier Time Lord on top?

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The winters of Gallifrey are the tales of legend. The silver leaves on the pale gold branches of the forests quiver in the slightest breeze and fall into the crimson grass with effortless grace. From the highest peak of the Citadel, it looks like the fields are bleeding magnesium; the silver-white of death, to afford for new life.

~*~

Koschei's cold hand curled into a fist, blocking out any contact from the boy next to him. Theta was unabashed by this and reached out his hand, warm fingers just touching Koschei's freezing knuckles before finding their hold around his balled up hand.

"Rassillon, Kos! Your hand is like ice!" Theta whispered in awe, rubbing his thumb across his friend's frozen fingers.

"Well you don't have to hold it!" Koschei said indignantly, pulling himself away from Theta with a slight pout. Theta paused for a second, watching him, and then pulled Koschei's hand back, interlocking their fingers; the perfect union of fire and ice.

"No, no…I want to…" he said quickly. Koschei looked down at their entwined fingers and quirked an eyebrow. Theta's hand-holding tendencies had never been this…desperate before.

"This is…new…" he said carefully. Theta looked at him, his blue eyes widening in apprehension of what was coming next. Koschei's moods were notoriously difficult to predict.

"Do you…do you like it, Kos?" he asked tentatively. His voice was so quiet that it was barely audible and his breathing was uneven. Koschei froze, his face the picture of surprise, and then slowly, the faintest pink blush spread across his cheeks, warming the silver of the moonlight that threw shards across his expression. He shook his head quickly and shrugged. He couldn't tell Theta the truth, even now.

"S'ok, I suppose."

A small smile spread across Theta's face and his eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Kos…?" he began, wheedling slightly. Koschei stopped dead and looked at his friend.

"Yeah…?" he said with some trepidation, willing Theta to continue.

"Can I try something?"

"Depends what it is…" muttered Koschei guardedly.

"It's nothing really…it's just that your lips look, well, blue…and I thought…" Theta was losing his coherence, stumbling over the words as they spilled from him. Koschei's eyes widened. He knew.

"You thought what?" Koschei demanded, but all his confidence had disappeared and he was without his only weapon.

"I thought that I could maybe warm them up for you…" Theta's voice was so small and quiet that Koschei barely heard him.

"Speak up, Thet. I can't hear a word when you whisper like that…" The words were supposed to be powerful, but they just sounded quietly excited.

"I said…um…I said I thought I could…um…" Theta's words failed him. They hung in the air, like insubstantial silver threads and suddenly Theta sighed. Words were overrated under the snowy moonlight and his hand reached up awkwardly, as if he was not entirely sure what to do with it. He brushed Koschei's downy hair away from his face and pulled himself up slightly, brushing Koschei's lips with his own.

They stayed like that for a moment, their lips never moving, just touching. It was barely a kiss, but while they stood still, Koschei's hand moved up into Theta's brown hair, running his fingers through it as if it was the blood-red grass they loved so much. Theta's thumb stroked Koschei's cheek lightly, exploring the texture of his skin where it felt slightly furry with the onset of adulthood. Finally, after what seemed like a whole eternity of waiting, their lips began to move in sync, fitting together like pieces of an intricate puzzle. Pushing the boundaries of friendship into uncharted territory; as if it had somehow been forbidden. Their whole world disappeared.

They broke apart, gasping for breath, staring at each other. They both knew that they couldn't go back after that; they would never just be friends again.

"That was…" Koschei began.

"Different," muttered Theta. "I know." And then he grinned sheepishly.

Koschei held out his hand and flexed his fingers, spreading warmth to their tips. He stretched them towards Theta.

"Do you want to hold my hand?" he asked, confidently, almost childlike.

"Yes." Theta said firmly, taking the other boy's hand in his own.

~*~

It is said that the Time Lords of myths and legend and the stories of a thousand years had winters without any warmth. When the slightest thing could turn to silver ice with the tiniest movement. The winters of Gallifrey held no colour, merely powdery white snow and silvery leaves amongst dying blades of crimson grass, when not even the twin suns had strength enough to shimmer across the frosty landscape. But in one field, one shimmering silver field, there was a cloud of pure gold dust, where two boys had walked in search of some elusive warmth.