Title: Health Care Author: Grey Fandom: XF Pairing: M/Sk Rating: NC-17 Archive: Yes Email: Grey853@aol.com Website: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dimension/3837/index2.html Disclaimer: CC has the guys, but doesn't have a clue about what to do with either one. Warning: Biting and blood. Spoilers for "SR 819". Author's notes: This is my penance for posting to the wrong list. I don't consider it to be my usual type of M/Sk story, so don't start reading thinking you're going to read romantic. Kink warning. Beware. Health Care By Grey Skinner ran his hand across the surface of the headstone, the granite edge cold and rough contrasted with the smooth polished surface of the front. He refused to read the words beyond the name Sharon Skinner, couldn't let himself repeat in his mind "beloved" or "wife". To recognize them meant he relived their meaning over again, the images of early mornings sliding into her slick heat, late evenings when strong hands massaged his shoulders, her comforting voice urging him to relax and return to bed, to the cradle himself in the safety of her arms. Squeezing his eyes shut, he shuddered and drew his coat closer, the icy wind touching more than his skin. He turned, and in the dim light of the cemetery lamps, headed for the chapel near the center, the caretaker's key tucked safely in his pocket. The ache in his groin kept his movements more careful than usual, the pain manageable but worsening as it usually did toward seventh nightfall. His jaw clenched at the memory of Krycek's face when he showed him the palm-held computer. He controlled his life and his suffering at the touch of a button. Worse, he commanded his life with Mulder. Swallowing hard, fighting off anger and frustration, he took out the key to unlock the door. Once inside, he flipped on a single light and moved to the front where he stood looking down at the white envelope and the small plastic container. Just touching either one turned his stomach. He knew what the message said, had read it every week since his release from the hospital. It never changed. A unexpected scrape of shoe alerted him and he reached for his gun as he turned. "No need for that, sir. Besides we're on holy ground or some shit like that. You can't shoot me." "Jesus, Mulder." He shook his head and immediately regretted it. The dizziness brought supporting hands to his waist as his agent helped him to the nearest pew. "You okay?" "What the hell are you doing here? Spying on me?" Mulder stepped back, tilted his head and smiled. "You're in a graveyard, Walter. You should expect spooky." "Cut the shit and tell me. Are you following me?" His frustration stretched his voice, the branding pressure in his crotch growing to unbearable. "Somebody needs to." "What's that supposed to mean?" "It means you don't look well. It doesn't take Scully to see that." "You're not Scully." "No shit. Good thing for you, too. She'd have your ass in a sling if you haven't told her something important." Walter studied the hazel eyes watching him and looked away before he spoke. "I'm fine. There's nothing to tell Scully." Taking a deep breath, Mulder crossed his arms, his voice tense. "You've become a really good liar, Walter, not that you've ever been a slacker. Hell, you keep this up and I'm going to really hate the idea that I ever let you fuck me." Walter closed his eyes, his hand rubbing his face a few times and then finally speaking softly. "I'm sorry, Mulder." "Me, too." A hand rested on his shoulder as the younger man sat down next to him. "I've missed you. You've been avoiding me ever since the hospital." "I know." "Why?" Instead of answering the question, Walter met his eyes, the dark brown dragging the light from the room. "It's too dangerous for you to be here, Mulder. You need to go home." "Tell me why, Walter? I want the truth." "I can't tell you the truth." "It's Krycek, right?" An electric jolt traveled up his belly, searing his heart, his hungry lungs forgotten. Falling back, he gulped for air, Mulder's face too near his to be in focus. "Walter, what the fuck is it?" "God, please don't say his name." "Who's name? Krycek's?" Electric charges blasted through his cock, the head pulsing fire and pissing sand. "Shit." Doubled over, he held himself, the heat swelling him even larger. The huge bulge under his coat throbbed with every pump of his own heart. "My god, Walter. What's going on?" "Just leave, Mulder, before it's too late. I can't control it." "Control what?" "The bastard's put those things in me. He can kill me anytime he wants, but worse, he's left some of them active inside me." "Shit." Biting his lower lip, he managed to take Mulder's arm and find air enough to talk. "I can go a week, no longer. I have to come here and he gives me permission." "Permission to do what?" "To jerk off." "Son of a bitch." Groaning, Walter dropped his head forward to rest on Mulder's chest, the strong arms wrapped around him. "He leaves instructions and a cup. I have to fill it. If I don't, he knows. It'll kill me if I don't relieve the pressure." Mulder drew him closer, his hand rubbing circles into his back, the contact drawing his attention briefly from the agony building between his legs. A kiss to the top of his head refocused his thoughts as Mulder whispered. "Why here?" "My wife's buried here." "God, what a bastard. Did he tell you not to see me anymore?" "Yes." Pulling back, his whole body cramped, the flame between his legs shooting up all at once, the nerves firing and his balls screaming. With Mulder still holding on to his arm, he choked out the words. "But think about it. I couldn't be with you anyway. It's not safe. Those things are in me, and I couldn't risk exposing you." Mulder shook his head, his face serious and his eyes clear. "I've been exposed to an alien retrovirus and black cancer. This fucking nanoshit can't do much more than they have. I'll take my chances." "Oh, yeah? You think so." Suddenly angry, Walter moved away, his joints clamping down in rebellion. He opened his coat, the grotesque swelling bulging from between his legs. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about. You've got no idea." His voice shook, his rage directed more at himself than his lover, more at his impotence at protecting the one person he wanted most to save. "Show me." "I can't." Hanging his head, he groaned as another blast cut through his middle, his erection like a spike jammed into his gut, his spine a focal point for torment. "I said show me." Mulder carefully spread Walter's thighs and then kneeled between them. Bringing down the zipper, he jerked back when the distorted member jutted forward. Twice its normal width, spidery blue veins webbed its surface pulsing like beacons just beneath the thin skin. "God, I'm going to kill the son of a bitch. Fucking rip off his balls and kill him." Walter reached out his hand to Mulder's face, the whiskers sanding his fingers. "I hate you seeing me like this." Taking his hand, the younger man turned his face and kissed the palm, his tears wetting the skin between them. "I fucking hate him." "I know." "Let me help you." "I can't" "Yes, Walter." Swallowing hard, his pain reflected back to him, the words ran away. Mulder took his cock and rubbed it gently, the touch sizzling pain, but also frosty, his brain exploding with the mixed signals. Tracing his finger along the distended vein, his right hand wrapped the base before he whispered, "I love you." His lover's mouth closed over the massive crown, his lips stretching to the limit as his tongue lapped at the tip. Acid exploded into frothy bubbles in his brain, the inner edges of his skull dissolving as Mulder suckled, his left hand pumping the shaft. Every tickle exploded inside his cells, his bones snapping with pressure as his cock extended even further. His hand grabbed dark hair, the strands moving against his palm as the head bobbed to take in even more of his length. Thin air refused his lungs, made his heart clench and bat against his ribcage. Every squeeze between Mulder's tongue pushed him to the edge of explosion, but wouldn't let him come. "Jesus, Mulder. Please. Stop." Pulling back for a moment, hazel eyes opened and met his. "I can't let you do this." "I'm already doing this." "You don't understand." "Understand what?" Reigning back his own terror, the fear of Mulder's revulsion, he whispered. "There has to be blood. One of the veins has to rupture and then I can come." Shocked, he half-closed his eyes, but Mulder still stroked him, still maintained contact. "And you've been doing this all by yourself since that bastard did this?" "Yeah." Taking a deep breath, Mulder nodded, the anger thinning his lips before he spoke. "I can do this, Walter." "No." "You're in no condition to stop me." Without anymore talking, he put his mouth back to work, his teeth edging the raised line of one of the smaller veins, the touch like lava melting his belly. His thighs trembled as the bite came, his body jerking back and pressure flooding out, his breathing stolen by fire swooshing through sinew and bone, evaporating his blood down to red ash. The scream stripping his throat shocked him, his ears deafened by his own cries. Blackness settled, a blanket circling his vision into velvet and soot. By the time faint light trickled like gauze across his eyes, he found himself embraced and rocking. "Thank god. I thought I'd lost you." "I pass out every time." Nuzzling his neck, Mulder spoke so quietly he strained to hear the words. "I swear to you, I'm going to find a way to fix this." "I know you'll try, but I couldn't stand it if he hurt you." "He already has, Walter." Lips settled over his, the taste metallic like gritty oil mixed with rust, the flavor his own, the flavor of decay and shame. Pulling away, he fought to control the shaking. "What about the sample?" "In the container. Of course, this time it's got Mulder juice mixed in. That should give the lab something new to play with." "What?" "The bastard's a sick puppy, but he's not just doing this to get off on mindfucking. You can bet your ass someone's tracking what those things are doing to you. Now the trick is to find out who that is." "And you plan to do that?" "Oh, yeah?" "How?" Mulder reached over and gently stroked the cock now returned to a more normal state. "Let's get you home first." "Mulder?" Meeting his eyes, the younger man leaned a bit closer, a few flecks of blood still clinging to his lips. "Do you trust me?" "I do." "Then trust me to make this right. Believe it or not, I'm pretty good at tracking down monsters." "Yeah, a real monster boy, I remember." "Your monster boy, Walter." The playful words drifted into shadow as he closed his eyes, praying for his lover's safety. The twitch and burn of his heart made him beg even harder, hoping against hope his blood contained no dark spell to foster the monster eating at his own belly to take root inside Mulder's. The End