"You stupid ass son of a bitch..." Chris swore adamantly although silently, electricity jumping over his flesh while slowly peeling the layers biege uniform off his partner's unconscious form, flicking open buttons. There were fangs of white sparks biting into every inch of Piers' body, coursing into the hands of Chris while he fought with convulsing muscles, grimaces and moans escaping pouted lips every time he tugged at the body to free it from the B.S.A.A. standard issue uniform he was clothed in, searching for the source of blood. They had been on a snatch and grab mission that almost counted as relaxed only a few hours ago and now his partner was shaking like a leaf, convulsing with every surge that nibbled into his skin. Chris had already had a long enough day, no a long enough week, after their run in in the locker room, without all of this now causing problems. There was a significant amount of blood that the captain hadn't even noticed until he'd pulled off the flak jacket from an unconscious form, answering for him over why his partner was now laying useless on the ground with his eyes rolled up in his head.
Chris hadn't brought up the injuries from the locker room next day, or the day after, or the day after that, however that also left him required to ask him now that they were compromising him. His partner made it painfully clear he didn't want Chris asking him about the marks on his back by coming in to work in full gear the next week so that Chris didn't have the opportunity to observe the injuries inflicted, however that also left him staring relentlessly at the sniper's body throughout training the recruits the next day. He had been using the excuse of watching over Piers every morning and night as a way of making certain he was safe, but it also lasted him the day in not looking like a complete stalker in the field. In return, the captain had been more than ecstatic to receive mission orders for the duo two mornings ago, because it relieved him of pretense and obligation regarding anything but the mission, and gave him some time alone to think with Piers in his usual manner. On top of that he couldn't run away from him on mission when Chris would decide to bring up the obviously uncomfortable question. In this instance however he would have had to simply have to lie back and take it while Chris questioned him now that it was intruding on their business. That was, once he woke up after this incident, he'd been unconscious like this for near twenty minutes.
Before this he had been viewing his partner scoping out their target from two miles out, lying prone on his abdomen, his weight propped on his left leg and hip, his fingers gently running up and down the scope of his anti-material rifle, poised at the ready. Problem being that he was pushing his gorgeous backside up and Chris had nothing to do but stare at Piers, staring at their target most the morning. It made what he was doing now more uncomfortable than it should have been, but he couldn't look at his partner without thinking about it now, even with all the blood and electricity sparking. The sparks hurt less than Chris would have imagined, and rather they were dancing over him and causing his need to strain more grievously in his own fatigues, while tearing his knife through the wife beater that was left, wrenching it free.
Piers never allowed this disability to stop him from doing his job, never once, still here they were holding up at their hand made little base camp riding out seizures together. He was aware, when the doctor's had informed him, that Piers would suffer chronically from the electrical impulses of that mutated he had been able to control. There was were times where it was more obscure than others that Piers was in considerable pain, he hid it very well. In actuality, Chris had demanded Headquarters not divulge his condition to the other men of Alpha team so that others wouldn't look at him as incompetent in the field. Still though he was aware of the side effects it had on his partner, it had never made a difference how Piers acted in the field, and whenever he thought it might the younger man carried it with grace. It was a surprise to see the kind of resistance he'd put up, because Chris hadn't even noticed his pain until the man had collapsed on him at the end of their mission, and the contact immediately transferred the shocks of fire over his own skin, causing a tight drawn line in his lips to part and permit a yelp of distress while he caught the man under his arms.
"Look at your goddamn shoulders, what the hell happened to you huh? You didn't say a damn thing over the com about being injured." Chris swore incredulously, watching Piers eyes roll around from the pain coursing through him, moaning as the final layer of clothing was peeled off in strips from his lithe, robust torso. The talking was mainly for his own sake, he needed to say something while maneuvering the other in his arms, to take his mind off all the blood so that he wouldn't vex too much over it and make a mistake. He was pleased however, for the fortuitous chance to admire the smattering of scars that he had gotten so use to over the last few months. He played his fingers along the marred flesh that lanced his shoulder junction, enjoying the sparks that licked his fingers while he searched the smooth chest, prepared to turn him and check his back where he was most as like to find the source of the dark stick substance. Now wasn't the time to be admiring his partner's flesh, but it was such an exotic feeling to finally get to touch him. Not to mention all the oddity of having his subordinate arching up in his lap every time a wave of shocks would crash over him causing a long stream of grimaced moans and whimpers to come over him. Chris' head was canted to the side, watching the rhythmic breathing punctuated by stuttered gasps every so often, expanding his chest to his tapered waist, rolling him against his own thick middle to peer over his back, feeling spitting electric dancing over his tactical vest and lap straight to his groin. "You should have said something you beautiful moron."
It had been a simple enough extraction, and the amount of men wasn't concerning, Piers had dealt with more in his years with the B.S.A.A. and certainly with more dangerous people. Nodding it off, Chris had let him go in alone, splitting up halfway there so that he could clear out the gatehouse, set up their exit strategy while Piers extracted their target. There was a car for them set up down the road from the local government that had hired them, as a drop for the guy, so as soon as they were out and had him they should only have had to keep hold of their man for just a few minutes, eighteen by Nivans calculations. That's if everything had gone perfectly according to plan, which within twelve minutes was painfully obvious that it hadn't when the sniper's voice voice came from over the radio set changing their plans up as well as their escape route. When they'd eventually arrived and dropped the man off with their agents, twenty minutes late, they'd caught no grief, but as soon as the mission had been completed, car gone, Piers had collapsed.
There was blood adhering from his shirt to his torso and his fingers were continually clenching regularly on the hand that had been torn apart in China. It was painfully obvious the problem wasn't just the shocks though, Piers had been dealing with these since he had returned to work. No, this was from one of the freshly received injuries that was inflicted on his person. No, Chris wasn't taking no for an answer anymore, not once this kid woke up from his currant state. These two were going to have a talk about this. Surges of electricity gnawed Chris' hands, prying and prodding the marks on his body searching for the source of his blood among the purpled and abused visage, newly acquired injuries raised, welts and cracked and peeling skin. "You went through that whole mission like this? Piers, you have to say something... I know you don't like it when you can't do something, but you're not invis... Piers?" His voice turned softer as he watched the younger man shaking under his grip and the waves of electricity came off him, fighting back a grimace that had turned swiftly into sound so akin to the noises he'd envisioned his partner making only in Chris' dreams, rolling him back onto his back in his lap. Gasping out at the shifting of his weight, it converted to a moan, Piers trying to wrenching away from him instinctively yet unconscious, the blood oozing and spreading over the blades of his shoulder, revealing the slice down his spine that had apparently ripped open when the seizures had started.
Chris sighed, watching the younger man, shaking his head. He'd seen this happen before, even if Piers wasn't aware. There were times when the younger man couldn't hold back the convulsions of electric waves that stole over him. He'd shut himself up and watch his entire body shaking in a kind of mixture between agony and pleasure. Seeing it up close the, touching him while the waves slowly ceased, was exhilarating, gripping muscled hips to hold him still. If he wasn't in such a compromised position Chris might have considered taking advantage of the evidence of the pleasure of it was having on his partner. The skin under his calloused hands was tingling , sweat running over his brow as muscles contracted; body and arms shaking like a leaf in an autumn wind. He'd ask him in a while when he came conscious again about these marks once and for all. He was covered in bites, scratches, and welts that rose off his back, including the slice down the middle of his spine that was what had been the cause of the bleed, which was already cauterizing shut from the electricity. Now that he knew, he didn't have to worry, and at this moment it was the moans that escaped his mouth every now and again that was distracting him; Piers pawing silently at Chris' chest. God he was beautiful like that, no wonder he hadn't wanted to admit to enjoying this. It was painfully apparent that his partner enjoyed a certain amount of pain the way his body was reacting and covered in goosebumps now that the convulsions were receding from him. Still those injuries from whoever caused it weren't pleasurable little love bites, they were literal bites meant to damage skin and force distress. Piers reported every injury in the field, so he knew why he hadn't said anything about having an injury this deep inhibiting his choices. It had Chris fighting the impulse to give his partner 3rd degree on his extra curriculars getting in the way of their missions.
Rough hands trailed down the exhausted body in his arms, letting fingers stray and examine the damage and the method of how they'd arrived. These could only have been done by another man, and it sent fury through him hearing his own thoughts on the matter. He'd been wrong that he hadn't had a chance with his partner, which was even more infuriating. Tough callouses caught on the lip of fatigues, brushing over the front of them to feel the evidence of arousal, his own kicking painfully as a reminder of how this was effecting him. The electricity was exciting, and the jolts moved over his body and sent lust pooling in his groin every time Piers gasped, nuzzling his thigh with his face. "Damn you Piers..." He groaned, watching the younger man gasp in air, grinding his hips into Chris' hands, watching him. Gripping the disappearing marks on his hips, he felt the younger man nearly whimpering against his muscled thighs, flush breaking out over his face while he fought to not to moan as Chris gripped him harder. Finally he slipped Piers out of his lap, keeping grip on his hips, watching the goosebumps break out over sweat slick flesh, letting himself get involved with the unconscious form his partner offered, begging as Chris' lips ghosted over the scars on his shoulders, kissing each of the lines like maps, bring high pitched gasps from his partner and causing Chris to work harder to bring the burdened body pleasure. He was arching up into him, openly moaning now as experienced lips suckled at his collar. The older man couldn't help but seek out the marks and scars, teasing them happily until those soft pouted lips finally formed the name that froze Chris instantly, causing the want inside him to curl up and hatred course through him, huge biceps flexing and pounding a fist into the ground.
Oh goodness... Piers you are a bundle of trouble. Chris you shouldn't have doubted yourself. We'll meet mister unlucky next chapter.
