by Lara Wilson

Two months. Two months since the venom had been injected--a combination of several spiders, a combination they hadn't been able to figure out yet so they could develop an anti- verum.

Tim had been paralyzed instantly and only Dick's timely arrival had kept the Council of Spiders from finishing him off. All tests showed that his mind remained active and alert, but his body was immobile.

Round the clock nurses took care of him most of the time, but Dick spent a few hours every evening with him, talking to him, bathing him, and doing other things.

Because, while he couldn't move a muscle voluntarily, and for the most part only autonomic systems worked, some muscles could move involuntarily. He could breathe and, while he couldn't chew, he could swallow. While his bladder and bowels had as little control as an infant's, a part of him was all adult.

Dick had discovered that fact the third time he'd bathed Tim. As he'd methodically and gently run the washcloth over his genitals, his cock had hardened.

Tim hadn't made a sound--couldn't make a sound--but looking into his eyes Dick had seen the awareness and what he'd hoped was need.

And he'd set aside the washcloth and used his hand to do more than clean Tim's cock, jerking him off while he'd reclined in the tub, not moving, not responding at all except for the obvious orgasm.

Tonight Dick sent away the nurses for two hours and now he lays between Tim's spread legs, running his tongue over the tip of his cock before opening his mouth and taking him as deeply as he can. He feels the flesh beneath his tongue hardening, swelling, and he sucks hungrily, sloppily. His fingers cup Tim's balls, squeezing lightly, and he tastes pre-cum and pulls back to suck the head.

In his head he hears Tim's moans. He was never loud like Dick, never babbled or cursed, but those moans always made him ache.

Behind his closed eyes he sees Tim squirming, reaching to dig his fingers into Dick's hair. He can almost feel them entwine, pull him down.

Beneath him, his cock hardens and thrusts into the bedding. He knows he could take Tim. It wouldn't be the first time and he knows how much Tim enjoys it, but it would be wrong.

This is wrong enough.

Glancing up, he sees Tim watching him and he believes he sees need there in those dark blue depths. The eyes retain focus and that focus is on him, and it's enough to make Dick suck faster and thrust faster and when Tim comes, he imagines the soft, thready cry.

Swallowing and wiping his face, Dick stumbles from the bed into the bathroom. Unfastening his jeans, he closes his eyes and braces one hand on the wall above the toilet, uses the other to bring himself off in hard jerks, tries not to pretend that Tim's hand is the one pumping his dick.

As he comes, he feels the tears wetting his cheeks, and silently prays that the doctors and scientists he has working on this will find the right combination of venom soon.

He doesn't know how much longer he can take this.


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