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


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