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Toxic to the Touch

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Doc Holliday cursed the day he'd ever heard the name Earp. Wyatt had been a good man and he had loved him dearly, but calling him difficult would have been the heart of charity. And now there was Wynonna. There were no words for Wynonna.

Especially not now as she danced around the homestead's living room, climbing on the furniture and singing while he lay there bleeding on her nice wood floor. It was going to stain, and Doc harbored no illusions about who would be blamed later when he was well and Wynonna was in her right mind.


Wynonna looked at Doc from the sofa, smiling over her shoulder as she shimmied.

"Could I bother you for a rag or two and some water? Or maybe just a shot of bourbon?"

Wynonna frowned and stripped off her leather jacket as she stepped off the sofa onto the coffee table and then hopped to the floor. "You are seriously harshing my buzz."

Doc closed his eyes and felt the floor sway beneath him. It wasn't supposed to do that. "My apologies, but I cannot help it. I am utterly dependent on your hospitality."

Wynonna laughed a little. "You are in sad shape if you're depending on me to be hospitable."

"Maybe you could get Waverly? I'm sure she would assist me and then you could go back to caterwauling."

Wynonna sat down on the coffee table and began tugging her boots off. "No can do, Doc. She's with Haught." She rolled back onto the table, still struggling with the boot. "I think she still feels bad about trying to kill us while she was possessed."

Doc pulled himself up against the wall so he could sit then he took a moment to pant and wait for the world to stop spinning before saying, "I think I may require a doctor." He swallowed hard.

Wynonna finally sat up, stuffing her sock into the boot she had managed to remove, and looked at him. "Wow, sweaty." She tossed the boot aside and started working on the other one. "That's no reason to get a doctor though. You got a few scratches, Doc. It's no big deal."

Doc was just about out of patience. "Wynonna, I am unwell. You may have taken a stroll through the garden and come out giddy and intoxicated, but I walked through a patch of thorns that attacked me, tore my flesh, and poisoned me." He let his head fall back against the wall. "What sort of revenant takes up gardening anyway?"

Wynonna shrugged and grinned at him. "You'll be fine. None of those wounds are deep enough to kill you and you can't get sick."

Doc stared at her and then spoke slowly and deliberately. "I am telling you that I am sick. Something is wrong, very wrong. I need some help."

Wynonna threw her second boot and sock away. "You know, you're kind of cute when you're all sweaty."

Doc laughed weakly. "You should have known me in my consumptive days. My pallor would have charmed you."

Wynonna stripped off her holster and tossed it on the sofa. "You've got plenty of charm without all that coughing." She started to unbutton her pants. "The sweat and blood are a turn on though."

Doc couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Why are you disrobing?"

Wynonna didn't answer. Instead she stripped off her pants and held them up briefly before dropping them on the floor. She wasn't wearing underwear and didn't seem concerned about it. She straddled Doc and sank down onto his lap.

Doc pressed back into the wall, which just made Wynonna smile and lean forward. She ran her hands down his torso and poked a wound in his side with her finger. She smiled wider when he cried out.

"I really don't think I can do right by you right now, darlin'." Doc tried for a charming smile, but it felt like a grimace. "If you'll agree to table this for now, I will promise to attend to all your needs as soon as I feel better."

Wynonna took his face between her hands. They were sticky with plant sap, the smell sharp and green. She pushed a couple of fingers between his lips and bitterness flooded his mouth. "Have a taste, Doc. It'll make you feel good."

Doc swallowed around her fingers. He didn't feel better, but he did start to feel a little drunk on top of the sickness. He wanted to make her get her fingers out of his mouth but his arms weren't working. He couldn't say the same about his cock.

Wynonna laughed and took her fingers out of his mouth just as he was beginning to believe he'd have to be sick all over them both. She started to grind against him as he turned his head to the side and spat.

When he'd cleared as much of the taste from his mouth as he could, Doc looked back at Wynonna. She had her head back and her eyes closed as she rubbed herself against him. She was beautiful of course, made up of angles and sharp edges, but soft in all the right places. He would have loved the view if he weren't busy feeling like he was dying.

He lifted an arm slowly, not at all sure that he had the strength for it, and touched her face. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, still rocking and grinding against him.

"We have to stop. I can't." She stilled in his lap and he thought that he'd gotten through to her. He sagged back against the wall in relief.

"You can," she whispered as she took hold of his hand and moved from her face, guiding it under her tank top to her breast. She made a small noise of approval in the back of her throat as she scooted back just a little and reached between their bodies to open his fly. "Don't worry; I'll do all the work."

Doc moaned as she opened his pants and took hold of his cock. He let his arm fall back to the floor, but she didn't seem to notice as she continued to work him with one hand while she reached between her own legs with the other.

"Gonna be good, Doc. You'll see." Doc could barely hear her; his own heartbeat was too loud and booming in his ears.

He felt it though when she raised up in his lap to rub his dick against her. She was hot and wet and his cock was happy even if the rest of him wasn't.

"Wynonna, please." He gasped as she sank down onto him and began to ride, apparently thinking he was begging for more.

It was good. It might be killing him but it was undoubtedly good. Maybe she was just talented or maybe it was just another power that came with being The Heir, but Doc had never had another woman who felt like her. Or maybe he was just that enamored of her. He didn't usually think that way. Maybe he really was dying.

He tried to lift his arm again, but Wynonna grabbed his hand and pressed it against her, damn near breaking his wrist to get his fingers against her clit. He whimpered a bit at the pain, but she just twisted harder and worked his fingers against her.

"Close, Doc. So Close" She was speeding up, bouncing on his cock faster and faster. "Goddamn, Doc."

She finally cried out and paused in her rhythm. She let go of his hand and went rigid, still riding him, but jerky and slow as she shuddered through her orgasm. He felt her squeeze his dick as she finished, clamping down to draw out every bit of pleasure she could wring from him, and it pushed him over the edge. She helpfully rode him through it and then collapsed against his chest.

Doc wanted to ask her for help again, wanted to ask her to get off his chest because it was hard to breathe. He couldn't ask for anything. He was falling into the darkness. He wondered if the magic that kept him alive would overcome the poison, if he would keep falling until he reached some point close enough to death that the curse would finally pull him up, like the spell was a rubber band that stretched and then snapped back.

Wynonna snuggled against him. "Hey, Doc." He felt her slap his face a little. "Wanna go again?"

Doc kept falling.