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Charles takes one look at him and then runs screaming in the opposite direction.

Erik’s not really sure how this happened.  He’s been off duty and sleeping in his quarters for the past two hours.  He thought he’d get up and grab something to eat and find out where Charles is and maybe have a quickie before heading back up to the bridge.  For some odd reason it always improves his mood.  Go figure.

Finding Charles hadn’t been a problem, but now Charles is gone again.  

This may or may not have direct correlation to his sudden appearance as slime monster.  Huh. 

Erik tries to open his mouth, but all that really happens is a lot of oozing.  Well that’s going to make life difficult. 

He tries to take a step forward, and this seems to go okay, until he realizes that he’s probably moved about a centimeter.  Only moving a centimeter at a time is really going to make life really difficult.  

Goddamn it. 

Erik concentrates.  Slime is pretty malleable.  Maybe he can make some kind of order out of this new body.

It takes a few minutes of rather intense focus, but he’s rather proud of himself when he’s suddenly got legs.  They’re sort of melty, but he discovers that as long as he keeps moving, the less he’ll fall apart.  This is good.  This is progress.

He sets off through the ship.  As a slime monster.  His life, sometimes.

He’s not sure what he should do first.  Obviously he’s going to need some help figuring out what the deal is with this, uh, condition.  McCoy is probably his best bet for that.  The CMO might have some idea as to how exactly this is even possible.  

If this somehow has something to do with Logan and Scott, he is going to kill them.  Slowly.

But, on the other hand—not that he really even has actual hands left, at this point, Jesus Christ—he also kind of wants to find Charles and make sure he’s not having an emotional breakdown somewhere.  The Deputy is understandably a little sensitive about slime.

On even another hand, though—this could be possible with his new, er, body—Erik is a little miffed that Charles didn’t recognize him.  One would think that by now Charles would know him anywhere, slime or not.  Erik is fairly certain that he’d recognize Charles.  Because he knows Charles inside and out.  Yes.

Erik is still pondering all of this when he rounds a corner and runs into Wilson.

“What the hell are you doing on my ship.” Erik demands but in reality all that really comes out is a giant globule of slime that splats down onto the floor.

“Dude,” Wilson says, eyes alight with avid curiosity, “what the fuck’s going on here, man?” 

Then he draws one of his swords.

Jesus Christ.

Wilson swipes at him, and Erik is immediately gratified when the blade passes right through him with no pain.  

Hah,” Erik says, because he is sometimes allowed moments of immaturity and he feels like this is a perfectly opportune moment because it’s not like anyone can understand him anyway.

Wilson, however, draws his other sword.  And starts to grin.  Like a maniac.  ”I,” he says slowly, “am,” he continues as he brings both his swords up in front of him in some kind of odd-looking pose, “DEADPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!”

Wilson attacks, his blades spinning so quickly that Erik can’t even follow their movements.  At this rate, he’s going to end up splattered across the wall like paint and he’s not really sure if he’s able to put his body back together after something like that.  Jesus.

So Erik does the only thing that he can do at this point.

He slimes Wade Wilson.

Erik puts all of his weight into it, sliming the bounty hunter as thoroughly as possible.  Wilson goes flying backwards and hits the wall but Erik doesn’t let up, oozing more slime as quickly as he can and cementing the lunatic against the wall.  When he’s finished, Wilson is plastered from his neck down, stuck against the side of the hallway like a bug. 

Erik thinks he probably shouldn’t feel as pleased by this as he actually is.  Hm.

“Bro,” Wilson says and Jesus, he’s still grinning, “that is awesome.  His Majesty didn’t tell me he had a slime monster on his ship, no wonder he got all touchy back while we were on the Nyrulian ship.  He must have missed you, man.”

Erik isn’t even quite sure what to make of that.

Talk of His Majesty—as Wilson is inclined to call Charles, for whatever odd and most likely insane reason—reminds Erik that he should be looking for the Prince instead of just standing here staring at the bounty hunter.  He decides that he will find Charles first.  He needs to make sure Charles is alright, for one thing, and for another, Erik could really use a little support here because although he’ll never admit it, this whole thing is sort of starting to freak him out.  A little. 

Erik takes a moment to fix his legs, because all that lack of motion has left him a little drooping, and then sets off again.  He has an idea of where Charles might have gotten to.

“Dude!” Wilson calls after him.  “You can’t just leave me here, man!”

Yes, Erik thinks as he rounds the corner, I can.

He somehow gets himself into an elevator and manages to get down to the cargo hold without running into anyone else.  Small mercies.  The cargo hold is relatively empty right now, but there are still some containers stacked here and there in some vague sense of order.

Ever since his capture and subsequent rescue from the Nyrulians, Charles has had a thing about cargo holds and for the life of him, Erik can’t really figure it out.  The Deputy can nearly always be found down in the hold when he needs a little quiet time, and more often than not Erik has been forced to track him down here.

And then quiet time usually turns into how-many-times-can-I-make-you-come time.

His body reacts almost immediately at the mere thought, the color of his slime changing from a clear-greenish to an almost purple-magenta, which is startling because he’s not really even sure what that means.  All he knows now is that he wants.

Dare he suggest it, but this body might be…fun.

Erik finds the object of his desire crouched down against one of the larger containers a few rows back, his head in his hands.  Erik stops for a moment, taking Charles in a tad bit hungrily, because as far as he’s concerned the Deputy is the embodiment of perfection.

Then a large globule of slime drips off his shoulder and hits the deck with a loud splat.

Charles shoots to his feet, eyes wide, pressing himself back against the container.  “Stay back,” he says, “I’m warning you now, keep away from me.”

Erik holds up his arms in what he hopes is a pacifying gesture and not a terrifying one, because he can see Charles’ hand inching towards the phaser at his belt and while Erik readily endured a few sword-swipes from Wilson he doesn’t exactly want to find out if he can withstand a phaser that will probably be set to its maximum level.

He needs to find a way to tell Charles who he is and fast, or otherwise he’s going to end up as an actual pile of goo.

Then it hits him.  Erik leans down as best as he can, and drags his makeshift hand through the slime that’s dripped off of his body, spelling out ERIK in huge letters.  Satisfied, he looks back up again.

Charles is staring at the word blankly.  “Erik?”

Erik spells out YES.  Now they’re getting somewhere.

Slowly, Charles lets his hand drift away from his belt.  “What…”  He shakes his head, looking up at Erik in confusion.  “What happened to you?”


“Because I ran away, yes.”  Charles laughs, a little self-deprecatingly.  “Erm, sorry about that.  I didn’t realize it was you.  I just saw the, uh, slime.”

Erik would chuckle, except he’s not sure whether or not that would end with Charles being covered with slime.  But then again…


Charles tilts his head a little as he reads Erik’s command, but then he comes over, so complying and trusting that for a moment Erik can’t even move as the Deputy steps up to him, blue eyes more curious than afraid now as he studies Erik.

“I can’t begin to fathom how you got this way or even what you are.”  Charles hesitates, and then carefully reaches out to gingerly touch the slime on Erik’s arm with one finger.

The touch is like a livewire that runs through Erik’s entire system.  He wanted before, but now he needs, and Charles is right in front of him and—

“What’s that smell?” Charles asks, sounding a little dazed.  He doesn’t seem to realize that he’s still touching Erik’s arm.  “I think you’re…emitting it?”  As Erik watches, Charles’ pupils grow huge.  “It smells…so…”

Erik’s still not entirely sure how to use this body efficiently, but it’s pure instinct now to flow forward, wrapping around Charles like some sort of slimy blanket and bearing him down to the deck.  Charles is slighter than him even when Erik’s human-shaped, but now Erik practically dwarfs him in this massive slime form, and it’s all too easy to push the Deputy all the way down, splaying him out and shifting over him until he’s covering Charles completely, spread out over him from neck down.

“You’re so warm.” Charles says, sounding slightly surprised.  He’s limp beneath Erik’s bulk, which is good.  “All the slime before was so co—a-ah!” He breaks off with a choked cry when Erik uses his entire body to lick him.

Erik isn’t sure how it works, but he can feel Charles’ entire body with his entire body, as if the slime somehow has a sensory function that allows him to touch, taste, smell, and see Charles all at once wherever they’re in contact, which at this point is practically everywhere.

Erik could get used to this. 

Especially when Charles squirms like that, as if he can’t decide to push up into Erik’s nearly overbearing touch or curl away from it.  Every movement he makes sends shockwaves through Erik’s body, until Erik is practically overwhelmed by Charles, his entire universe narrowed down to everything that Charles is, CharlesCharlesCharles

“What are you doing?” Charles asks suddenly, still lax for the most part in Erik’s grip but his voice holds a faint note of nervousness to it that Erik sort of wants to swallow whole because Charles shouldn’t ever have to worry about his intentions.

Especially when it’s fairly obvious that Erik is doing everything in his power to get rid of Charles’ clothes.

“E-Erik,” Charles says breathlessly when Erik figures out how to slide his way under the Deputy’s uniform, coming into contact with skin at last.  It only takes a matter of moments to figure out how to create suction with his slime, and Charles gasps when Erik finally gets his clothes off, sucking them away like some sort of vacuum and spitting them out to the side in a messy, slimy pile.

Erik presses forward even more, and Charles moans, twisting beneath him again powerlessly as if he really can’t help it, choking when Erik surrounds his cock and applies his suction there, his slime making slurping sounds as he works Charles into a quivering mess.

“Oh god,” Charles manages to get out, even as he arches up into Erik, pressed flush into the slime which only serves to drive Erik wilder, “oh god, Erik—”

Erik licks him again, pouring himself over Charles’ body and fanning out, coating him with slime and letting no inch of flesh go untouched as Charles moans again, reacting to the touch as if his senses are just as overwhelmed as Erik’s are.  If Erik could seep into Charles, soak into him and fill him up until there’s nothing left between them—

Then he realizes that he can.

If Erik could smirk, he figures that he’d be cracking his jaw at this point.

Charles whimpers when Erik stops his suction on his cock, leaving it hard and wanting; Erik’s pretty sure he can feel it leaking precum into his slime, which immediately absorbs it.  Erik could lap at Charles’ cock all day, but there are a few other things he wants to try first.

Charles is still arched up into him, straining against the hold Erik has on him.  “Why did you—why did you stop?” he asks, flushed and panting.  His eyes are half-lidded and dark with arousal, and for a moment Erik is fixated on his lips, parted and red, so red—

Erik pressed forward into Charles’ mouth, muffling the Deputy’s sound of surprise as he uses his slime like one giant tongue again on the inside of Charles’ mouth, swiping along his teeth and tongue and the sides of his mouth until he’s reached the back of Charles’ throat.  Charles works his jaw slightly, not quite biting down, and then it’s Erik’s turn to give a vibration of a groan when the Prince tentatively sucks, pulling Erik’s slime deeper into his throat.

Erik suddenly remembers how he was able to harden out his legs so he applies the same trick here, solidifying the slime in Charles’ mouth and forming it all into a long, wet cock that Charles gags on at first before adjusting, sucking harder as Erik fucks his mouth.

Satisfied entirely with how things are going there, Erik uses the rest of his still-viscous body to slide back down across the Prince’s chest and stomach and then drips himself back down and around Charles’ cock and balls, squeezing slightly.  Charles jerks at the sensation, moaning around the slime in his mouth, which only spurs Erik on.

Charles cries out loudly, the sound only barely muffled, when Erik slips into his entrance, wet and slick and sliding easily right into the Deputy’s tight heat.  He can feel out every single empty space inside Charles’ ass, so he expands his slime, filling Charles up to the brim before he begins to move, gliding against Charles’ insides even as he presses deeper.  He knows he’s hit Charles’ prostate when the Prince bucks his hips, eyes snapping open wide and an unintelligible garble of sound pours out of his mouth around the slime.

Erik pushes into Charles harder and stretches out more, making the Deputy writhe beneath him, hips bucking again wildly, and at the same time Erik starts sucking on Charles’ cock again and fucking his mouth at the same time, all while spreading himself out over the Prince as a layer of slime, touching and tasting and steadily working Charles past the point of coherency and comprehension.

Erik isn’t sure what it takes for his body to get off, but watching Charles go to pieces beneath him and around him is a rush all on its own, and when the Prince finally comes with a scream, his come shooting directly into Erik’s slime, white against magenta, Erik feels full and satisfied.  Charles is trembling, his eyes slightly watery from exertion, so Erik pulls back, sliding out of Charles’ mouth with a trail of saliva and trickling back out of Charles’ ass, pooling around his limp and much-abused cock as the Deputy pants, chest heaving.

Most satisfying of all is Charles’ expression, which is utterly blissed-out, his mouth forming silent words that can’t even make it past his swollen lips, mouthing incoherently at the air.  If Erik’s body had come with feathers—because at this point, why not—he imagines that he’d be puffed out proudly right now for rendering Charles speechless.

Erik droops over him again, spreading out across his Prince’s chest, rising and falling with Charles’ breaths and listening to his still-pounding heart.  He’ll give Charles a few moments to recover and then see if he can work the Deputy up again.

Because Erik’s not sure how long he’ll be stuck in this body, and he intends to make the most of it.




Erik opens his eyes.

It takes him a moment to orient himself.  He’s lying in bed in his quarters on the Heartsteel.  A very careful study of the ceiling confirms this.  He lifts one hand—one human hand.

No slime.

He’s not some kind of strange slime alien from who knows where.

It was a dream.

He realizes this at the exact same moment he realizes that he is achingly hard.

Erik looks sideways and finds Charles curled up beside him, breathing the slow and deep breaths of someone who is fast asleep.  The Prince is pressed up against him, face relaxed and at ease, but Erik can still clearly picture Charles’ undone expression.

Erik glances at the clock.  An hour before they’re supposed to be back on duty.  And he really needs to take care of his, uh, condition.

Erik ducks under the covers, and makes a bet with himself that not only can he make Charles wake up in under ten seconds, he can also make that same blissed-out expression cross the Prince’s face twice before their hour is up.

Challenge accepted.






by Maimo





by Yaegaki