A Pox On Your House

[staticsnap]

Characters: Shark!Erik, Pilot Fish!Ben
Date&Time: December 25th, evening
Setting: Ben's absconded den  Erik's room 
Summary: Gesunteit; see also: alternatives to chicken soup.
Rating: Rish?
Status: Open to Cooler!Erik.

Comments

[staticsnap]

"YOU ARE COMPLETELY RUINING CHRISTMAS," Ben shouted, kicking out in a vain defense against the ruthless and totally uncalled for goose down attack. Seriously, what the fuck. Were they fucking thirteen-year-old girls at a slumber party now? What sort of man attacked his prone lover so ruthlessly? The pillow boffed against his stomach like a padded missile and Ben narrowed his eyes, pointing a damning finger at Erik. "AND CHANUKKAH!" he roared. "AND FUCKING KWANZAA."

Also possible New Years but that wasn't in keeping with the theme and there was no need for melodrama.

Desperate times called for desperate measures and Ben was about as delicate when provoked as a mother honey badger. Sitting up just enough to reveal hair that stuck up in twelve different directions and bleary, bloodshot eyes, Ben reached over and punched Erik as hard as he could in the thigh. A charlie-horse would serve him right, the insensitive, territorial bastard. With a victorious grumble, Ben flopped back down and rolled toward the middle of the bed, burritoing himself in the comforter because now the room was too cold and he was shivering and fuck a duck, why couldn't he just die and get it over with? His entire life right now was a case in support of merciful euthanasia.

[rageserenity]

Erik cried out in surprise when Ben punched him - albeit weakly - in the thigh, the unexpected attack almost making his leg give out as he leaned heavily upon the edge of his bed, reaching out to swat Ben against the back, giving him a good smack for his efforts.

Damnable boy! How dare he attack Erik in his own bed, even if it was in some form of feverish self defense!

Erik climbed atop the bed, in a foul mood from having his shoes ruined and his bed violated by a germ-infested little slut, and began pummelling Ben in earnest now. With the pillow.

"Get! Out! Of My Bed!!"

There would be no escape his ire, as he straddled the boy and whacked him over and over with the goose down pillow, beating him with it until Ben would simply give up and crawl off to infest another room.

Did Erik really have to go and sleep in Ben's room?! He had a party get back to - this was wasting his time.

[staticsnap]

Dimly, Ben wondered which one of Amara's fucking gods he'd managed to piss off because this wasn't remotely fair. Only an asshole of theological proportions could have concocted this fate and as soon as Ben found out which deity was responsible for his tragic state, he was going to build them an altar and then burn it to the ground and piss on the ashes.

"It's my bed too!" Ben hollered scratchily, his throat protesting the strenuous effort that it took to go above a grumble. "I've stained the sheets more than you, goddamn it!"

With Erik's legs squeezing against his hips and the blanket wound tightly around him, Ben was more or less immobilized and could do nothing but huddle violently beneath the thick blanket as Erik bludgeoned him. Electrocution was becoming more and more appealing with every strike. The only thing keeping him from indulging was a) he couldn't be sure of his control when his entire body felt like a limp noodle and b) he really, really, really wouldn't survive Erik's retaliation. Not even a little.

But fucking hell, he had to do something.

"Stop fucking hitting me, you tyrant!" Ben bucked his hips and half-twisted, managing to work his arms free just enough to yank the comforter more firmly over his head. "I'm warning you, Erik, I will hock a loogie in your face and I will enjoy it. One more time and it will be phlegm central all over your fucking cheekbones. Show some goddamn compassion and get in the holiday spirit, fucking goodwill and peace and all that shit."

[rageserenity]

Erik punched him lightly in the face through the blanket, hardly anything really considering; and if you thought about it properly, as Ben ought to, really he was doing the boy a favour. You know... concentrating his agony on a specific physical source, that being his cheek, rather than letting all of the boy's attention be on his ridiculous viral illness.

In fact, Ben ought not notice his sickly state at all now he'd received a punch to the face to distract him and give him something else to think about.

Erik was incredibly generous and thoughtful that way.

"If you even dare, i'll smash your face against the headboard until I see blood. How's that for a merry fucking Christmas, you little incubator!"

Erik patently didn't get sick, he never did, but he wouldn't allow risks to come his way in the form of sickly germ incubators taking up residence in his personal space.

[staticsnap]

That was fucking it.

It was one thing to thunder and grumble like a maniac and it was quite another to threaten real bodily harm to the already ailing. Not that Ben was ailing, exactly. Because Ben wasn't sick. He was just tired. Tired in a very hot, very congested, very headache-y kind of way. He needed head rubs and possible a blow job, not a punch to the face and verbal abuse. Domestic violence was not something he'd asked Santa for (unless the old geezer had misinterpreted 'riding crop', which seemed unlikely given the fact that Ben wasn't enjoying this at all.)

With a savage howl that resembled the cry of a rabid wolf who was aware of it's own imminent disposal and was letting fly it's last, magnificent lunge, Ben wriggled free from his blanket prison and lurched up with surprising strength. The suddenness must have caught Erik off guard and before he could fully react, Ben grabbed his arms and pinned them above his head, their positions now reversed. With a triumphant glower that would have been frightening had there not been a sickly trail of snot streaming from his nose, Ben swooped down and kissed Erik like they were going to war tomorrow and only had tonight, baby. It was wet and deep, Ben forcing his tongue inside and sucking Erik's lower lip into his own mouth. When pulled away it was with a wet slurp and a warning nick of teeth. Had Ben been sick (which he wasn't), it was an assured fact that he'd just passed at least 63 percent of his germs over to Erik, who utterly deserved it.

"Ha, how do you like them apples?" Ben smirked. And then he promptly slumped against Erik's chest, exhausted by his own cleverness.

[rageserenity]

Erik felt somehow both aroused by it and simultaneously utterly disgusted, grimacing and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

But he didn't toss Ben's dead weighted scrawny arse out of bed, or even off him, merely lay there, resigned to his fate as a newly-kissed member of the Infected.

Erik never got ill, so in all likelyhood nothing would happen and he'd be absolutely fine... but it was all still completely unacceptable, and not at all hygenic.

"Why would you wish to make me ill, Benjamin? Hmm?" He murmured out, practicaly whining at how utterly unfair that decision had been on Ben's part, because why would someone who was supposed to love someone else ever want to make them suffer through an illness?

[staticsnap]

"Ngh," Ben mumbled, which was as elegant a response as Erik was going to get for the moment. He was being lulled into some kind of coma by the softness of Erik's shirt against his cheek, the cloying scent of his aftershave that Ben could only half-sense, the essence of it more on his tongue as he breathed in rather than piercing through his stuffed nose. This was the perfect medium. With the frigid air blowing in and threatening to plunge the room into another ice age and Erik's warm body beneath him like a personal bellows to fan the fire of his fever, Ben was finally approaching something that resembled being comfortable. Now all he had to do was convince Erik not to move, preferably for the next two days. Possibly a week.

After a moment, Ben sighed and rubbed his face against Erik's chest in miserable restlessness. He discovered both that Erik's chest was an incredibly soothing place to smash ones head against and that turtlenecks made excellent tissues and chafed less, besides.

"You won't get sick," he croaked with stubborn determination, closing his eyes. "You won't get sick because I'm not sick. A little worn down, maybe. Seasonal allergies on top of that. S'all it is."

As long as he kept saying that, there was a chance that it would come true. At least he didn't feel quite so overwhelmed by hopeless melancholy now that Erik was here. Even when he was being a malevolent jackass, his company was soothing. He exuded calm in the bedroom, especially after sex, which was Ben's favourite boudoir activity, followed by the head rubs that always seemed to come with the idle canoodling that happened when they'd finished wringing orgasms from each other.

Mm, head rubs. And also, what the hell, canoodling? But mostly head rubs.

With the proprietary singlemindedness of the ill, Ben groped for Erik's arm, seizing it and flinging it up to drape across his back in a sad little mimic of a hug. "Rub my back," he mumbled. "Please?"

[rageserenity]

"Why should I rub your back, you ungrateful infested little bastard?" Erik groused sullenly, but his arm remained around Ben regardless, clearly unable to practice what he preached.

Really he didn't think Ben deserved any level of kindness for his inconsiderate germ spreading, but at the same time his overwhelmingly large level of fondness for the boy stopped him from beating him to a messy pulp and turfing him out on his ear.

Rubbing things was for lazy mornings and the afterglow of sex... not for soothing the ill.

Erik didn't soothe ill people - he merely kept his distance if it was infectious, and administered a healthy dose of reality in a spoon if it wasn't.

Afterall, the last time Ben had been bedridden, Erik had stitched his face up and fucked him better again. Non-infectious types of malady were much preferable.

[staticsnap]

"Because I suck your cock," Ben grumbled darkly, voice somewhat smothered from where his face was smushed against Erik`s breastbone. "I suck it all the time."

More than was healthy for either of them, probably. There had to be some kind of consequence for it. Jerking off could lead to carpal tunnel and he`d heard that some men who were too...enthusiastic, could actually sprain it. What a bitch a strained prick would be, Jesus. It was entirely possible that one day Ben might dislocate his jaw, especially because Erik was hung like a goddamn ox, and if that was the case then his daily sucking off of the man was a daily foray into danger. Ben was putting his life at risk every time. That absolutely deserved a back rub.

Erik`s hands were noticably in non-back rubbing position. Ben wriggled suggestively and noisily snurked up a puddle of snot that was trying to escape his sinuses. "I said please," the boy pointed out rather crossly, lifting his head enough to blearily glare at Erik. "I`d do it for you."

[rageserenity]

"You bare your ills with extremely little grace, Benjamin. If you perhaps behaved in a more civilized and acceptable manner, I might be more tempted to indule you.

As it is, you hardly deserve it now, even if you suck my cock more often than you take breath."

Erik was all for positive reinforcement, and never let it be said he didn't reward good behaviour or achievement.

The simple fact was, Ben's behaviour was shockingly poor, and his attitude unbecoming of even him.

He would deserve a back rub and kinder treatment when he learnt how to be more polite about his illness and stop bloody complaining.

[staticsnap]

For one gloriously malevolent moment, Ben dearly hoped that he'd contracted something deadly and that he'd just ensured Erik's mutual demise by kissing him. He was being a complete and utter bastard. A warm bastard, yes, but any breathing sod could produce body heat. With a huff, Ben let his head fall back down onto it's comfortable perch and contemplated coughing into Erik's mouth for added measure.

"Your face bears ills with little grace," Ben retorted sullenly. Jesus fuck, he felt miserable and couldn't remember ever feeling anything other than miserable. Naturally, this meant that the whole rest of the goddamn world needed to either be equally or severely more discontented than he was or else cater to his every whim. If not the whole world, then at least Erik could have had the decency to do so. Didn't he realize the agony of being not-sick? It was pure hell. Ben could feel his eyeballs trying to spontaneously combust, for fuck's sake.

"I'm missing the party," Ben said morosely. "There's eggnog. Spiked eggnog."

Nevermind the fact that he thought eggnog was fucking disgusting, it was the principle of the thing.

[rageserenity]

Erik would have smacked Ben for that pseudo-insult, but he well knew that his face was Ben's favourite thing in all the world, aside from his cock, and so the boy was simply dellusional from illness and meant not a word of any of it.

Poor sweet germ-infested little toerag.

He caressed Ben's sweat-sodden hair tenderly, pressing a little kiss to the crown of the boy's head, and murmuring more than encouragingly.

"Yes, you really ought to get back to the festivities... you're not so sick at all. Shall I escort you back downstairs and get you a nice hot toddy?"

This might be the perfect way to get Ben out of his bed and out of his room so it might be fumigated and aired and all the sheets changed.

[staticsnap]

Even though he felt about as capable as moving as a rock, agreement was on the tip of Ben's tongue without so much as a thought and very nearly tumbled out once Erik's fingers started paging through his hair. God, that felt good. It was like little fireworks going off on his scalp, except not at all painful or bloody or loud or colourful. So...only like fireworks in the sense that they weren't fireworks at all. Yes, yes, he'd definitely be amenable to whatever Erik was saying and defi--

At the last minute, Ben caught himself and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Erik was changing tactics. Why?

If his head hadn't been so fuzzy he might have been able to figure it out lickety-split. As it was, Ben decided that the safest, most opportunistic bet was to stay with what he knew was working.

"There's fucking kids down there," he said. "I'll stay here and you can bring me a hot toddy. And then, you know, we'll usher in glad tidings together," Ben propositioned. It sounded a bit listless because talking was sucking up all his energy but whatever, he'd manage if that was what it took to prove to Erik that he was not, in fact, a health hazard and was thus completely deserving of a massage.

[rageserenity]

"Perhaps i'll deign to fuck you, as long as you're on your belly and your infectious face is pressed into a pillow. There'll be no more kissing until you do as you're told." And really probably not even then, not until Ben was well again, or at least almost entirely on the mend.

It was absolutely disgusting to be kissed by someone with a terrible cold, all wet and messy and unhygenic. And Erik wouldn't abide it.

He'd use Ben's body to get off, but it wouldn't be a tender lovemaking, or even a particularly two-sided fuck. Was that what Ben really wanted? No? Well then, he should damn well yield to Erik and be commanded.

Why was it the boy only became deliberately contrary when ill?

[staticsnap]

"Fuck you," Ben rasped, rolled off Erik (and perhaps-almost-certainly catching him in his self-satisfied ribs with a bony elbow) and crawled back up the bed. He flopped onto his side and drew one leg up, catching the loose end of his sock and pulling the cotton off. Erik was skewered with another damning glare just for the hell of it, and then Ben judiciously flung his castoff sock toward the man's face. "You're an unsympathetic, merciless asshole who's wasting hands that were made for massage, which, FYI, is a goddamn sin if ever I fucking heard it and I hope you catch the fucking plague, you heretic, just so I can point and laugh while your fucking smug face rots off."

The second sock followed, slingshotting off Ben's heel to land on Erik's chest, and then the boy murderously jammed his feet beneath the covers and yanked them up and over his shoulders. He'd die here in a beautiful rage and then Erik would have to deal with a corpse having been in his bed. It would serve him right, the utter bastard. Maybe Ben would even luck out and go unfound long enough to void his bowels post-mortem.

[rageserenity]

This was all too disgusting for Erik's carefully maintained sense of order and tidiness in the world, and he just wouldn't be having it.

He'd never found Ben quite so fucking annoying as he did right now, and he wouldn't let it go unpunished.

Erik never let anything go unpunished, afterall - if he did, he wouldn't be Erik Lensherr, he'd be some other lesser man.

Ill or not, Ben was being patently ridiculous, and entirely too stroppy for his own good, and if he wanted Erik to do anything for him - and who would dare ask Erik to do something for them, hmm? - then he would need to employ his fair share of tact and good manners.

He shuffled from bed, going to fetch a clean pair of shoes and abandoning the bed most entirely.

"I'll start applying a little mercy, Benjamin, once you stop acting like a petulant child, and more like an adult.

I'm going back downstairs to the party, and if I find you still here when I return, i'll be sleeping elsewhere tonight, understood?"

Erik Lensherr took no prisoners, and he bent minds just as easily as metal.