His wrist tickled. 

Clark woke up one morning after a night of the usual riverbed dreams, and it was there, this itch above the blue vein.   Pulling his hand from under the covers, he inspected the skin.   It looked normal, just your average guy wrist.   Then he rubbed it-- 

--and saw not only stars, but suns, moons, and a few galaxies.   As his breath shot from his lungs and his cock hardened, he rubbed again. Interplanetary explosions.  He was squirming now, writhing, the sheets on the floor, his bed springs squeaking as his thumb slid back and forth over the itchy blue vein. 

Next, he did what any boy does when faced with something strange: he licked it.  This gave new meaning to the Big Bang.   His heart flipped, his eyes rolled back in his head, and his confused cock went wild, blasting streams of come into the air while Clark suckled his wrist with infantile fervor.  He wished it had a scar. 

This went on until his mom called through the floor boards, "Clark! You're going to be late for school." 

To his mother's annoyance, it took Clark an extra half-hour to shower and get dressed.   Every time the water kissed his wrist, a shock ripped through him, and he'd pause for a little mouth-to-wrist relief.   Tiny licks were the best; longer licks overwhelmed him.   He knelt for a full ten minutes on the shower floor, recovering.  During it all, three letters buzzed like flies around his head. 

Halfway to school the itch started again, stronger than ever.   For the first time in his life, Clark ditched class, heading straight to Luthor Manor.   It was a biological imperative so powerful so that Clark was opening Lex's front door before he realized the problem.   Despite the looks and life-saving, he and Lex had never done, you know, anything. 

If necessity is the mother of all invention, need is the father of all bullshit.   Clark knew what he would say and hurried through the halls, his wrist up to catch the breeze, his cock just up, until he found Lex sitting at his desk, papers like clouds around him. 

"Clark.   What are you doing here?   Don't you have a quiz in English today?" 

"Shakespeare can wait.   See, a spider bit me." 

"Are you okay?   You look kind of flushed.   And I have to say I'm not that familiar with arachnidan treatment methods." 

"Arachna-what?  Look, you just have to, um, suck on the skin.  Here."   He held up his wrist and tried to look pained and innocent, not desperate and horny. 

"You can't do it yourself?"  Lex moved in front of him, offering the strange soft smile usually reserved for escaped mental patients.  He wore a purple shirt, and his skin looked like the cream Clark's mom had with her coffee. 

Clark's wrist throbbed.  "It has to be someone else.   I'm not sure how it works.  Something in, uh, the other person's saliva.  I was never good at biology."   Hey, Lex would never see his report card.   "The venom only works if you have direct contact with the spider, so you'll be fine."   Clark vowed to do extra chores for the next month in case God actually paid attention to the number of lies a teenage alien told for a little wrist action from his best friend. 

"Let me get this straight: you're asking me to suck your wrist to save you from a wild spider bite?   I have to admit, Clark, you're always full of surprises." 

"That's me: one big birthday present.   So, would you mind hurrying up?   I could be dying.   Please, Lex."   When Lex took Clark's hand, bending his head, his breath tickled, and Clark turned his moan into a cough. 

"I don't see a puncture wound." 

"It was a really small spider."    To give it the right authenticity, he described the one that lived in a hay-filled corner of the loft.   Charlotte, after the spider in the pig book. 

"Well, I can't have you dying in my house.   That would be the final nail in the coffin of my reputation."   Still holding Clark's hand, he edged him back until Clark was sitting on the desk.   Then he bent again, only this time he didn't look down.   His eyes were colored like the river. 

The first touch of Lex's mouth on his wrist was so soft, warm and wet that Clark almost slid to the floor, his bones melting like fallen ice-cream on a sidewalk.  "That's...good."   His voice squeaked, high as a girl's, and he cleared his throat.  "I mean, that's helping.  Keep doing it." 

Lex did, and his mouth kept sliding over Clark's skin as he sucked, and it looked like a series of kisses, felt like a blow job.  Or what Clark had imagined a blow job would feel like in those bored-with-math-class fantasies he had about Lex, even when he wasn't in math class.   He swayed a little, made a sound that could only be described as a gurgle, and Lex reached out with his other hand, placing it on Clark's thigh to steady him.   It didn't, not that high up his leg and embarrassingly close to his very stiff cock. 

Clark actually managed to forget that particularly insistent part of him, sort of, when Lex's tongue slipped against his wrist.   The first few times seemed like an orgasmically-happy accident, and Clark added whimpering to his list of never-before-uttered noises.   When Lex started to lick him, his eyes so blue and wide and unblinking, Clark considered from a distance the possibility that he sounded less like a guy being brought back from the dead and more like a guy about to shoot his load inside his jeans. Acting had never been his strong suit. 

"Is this helping?"  Lex ran his tongue again over the blue line. 

Words jumbled in Clark's mouth, and he finally managed a clever, "Yeah.  I think I might live.   But you'd better keep doing it to make sure." 

"You know," Lex said in the same neutral tone, "you feel pretty warm.   Maybe you should take your shirt off to get more comfortable."   Lex had a point, if he closed his eyes and squinted at it. 

"Good idea."   It hurt to have his wrist free, and Clark popped a few buttons as he pulled off his shirt.   Black and shiny as spiders, they skittered across the floor.  Seconds later, his wrist was back in Lex's mouth, Lex's free hand landing on his bare shoulder. 

"You should talk, too, so I know you're still with me.  You're breathing kind of hard." 

So was Lex, but it didn't seem worth an argument.   "What do you want me to talk about?" 

"Things you like.  Positive energy and all that." 

Clark liked Lex's mouth.  He always had, since the river and their first kiss.  Resuscitation.   Whatever.   There was a scar on his top lip, a little red and swollen, like something had bitten him.  Too bad it wasn't a spider.   "I liked saving you." 

"More."   Like he was soothing him, Lex ran his fingers down Clark's chest, brushing one of his nipples. 

It made his insides shuffle.   "I...I liked the way you looked at me when you woke up.  Kind of dazed and happy.  Sort of like you look now." 

"It's not every day I get to save someone from imminent death.   Who knew that Smallville had such a rabid spider population."   When Lex stroked Clark's chest again, he lingered on the nipple. 

Clark was glad that his cock wasn't as strong as the rest of him or it'd burst through his pants like a clown from a canon.   "I liked how your mouth felt when I was breathing into you."   He didn't mean to say it like that, so low and needy.  Hopefully Lex would figure it was the venom talking.   More tongue on his wrist, and the sucking really felt like kisses now.   Maybe he *had* been bitten by a spider because Lex's face kept flashing from normal to black to normal again, like someone had turned on a strobe light.    His heart was apparently trying out for the gymnastic team, doing somersaults and pole-vaulting inside him. 

Speaking of pole-vaulting...He shifted on the desk, spreading his legs a little wider.  "Wow." 

"Still too hot?" 

"Boiling." 

"I was just thinking...Maybe you should take off your pants.  I don't want you fainting on me." 

Then Lex shouldn't say stuff like that.  "I would, Lex, but...The spider bite has this weird side-effect, and it's sort of embarrassing." 

"Nothing to be embarrassed about, Clark.   Who doesn't get a hard-on from a spider bite?"  Lex had never looked so bland, like he was talking about stock options or some other billionairy subject. 

"If you don't mind..." 

"I just want you to be comfortable." 

"Okay, then."  The pants were on the floor beside his shirt, and he sat back down, conscious of his cock, so thick and hard behind the thin fabric of his boxers. 

Lex noticed, too, looking down at the bulge as he brought Clark's wrist back to his mouth.  "Later, when you're recovered, you've got to tell me what kind of spider this was. We could market the venom as the new Viagra." 

As Lex began to suck, the itch in Clark's wrist spread.   His dick had always been in on the action, but now it tingled like he'd waved it in poison ivy.   Gave a whole new meaning to spider-sense.   His nipples were the same, caught between an ache and a burn, and every time Lex touched one in that slow, teasing way, it felt like the time he'd been struck by lightning, only good.   Great.   Lightning-struck, throbbing-everywhere, ready-to-come great. 

"The things you like..."  Lex's whole mouth looked red now, but he kept doing these things with his tongue, circles and stars on the unbitten skin of Clark's wrist. 

"I liked it when you gave me the fireworks at my party."   He didn't like the girl that Lex had brought with him, but the fireworks had been cool; he could see them now, bursting behind his eyes.  "No one's ever done that to me--I mean, for me--before." 

"It seemed appropriate."   He squeezed Clark's nipple.   Maybe it was some ancient Greek cure for poison.   Lex was always talking about dead Greek guys. 

"I liked it when you came to the loft and we watched the sunset.   And you told me that we were going to be friends forever." 

"I meant it, Clark."  Lex moved his hand lower down Clark's chest, over his ribs, stroking him just above the waistband of his shorts.  Clark's cock, which didn't understand subtlety, strained up to meet it.   "You know, you're still hot, and you must be uncomfortable like that.  I think comfort's got to be important for a cure.  Why don't you take your boxers off?" 

Clark studied Lex's face.  Wide, innocent eyes.  Tiny, harmless smile.  The expression seemed familiar, like looking at his own face in a funhouse mirror.  "Good plan," he said.   Or his dick did.   Hard to tell who was in control anymore, and he wasn't sure he cared at this point, not this close to spontaneous alien combustion.  Still, hard to meet Lex's eyes as his shorts fell. 

Lex had the same problem, and together they stared at Clark's hard cock.   "Jesus," Lex said, and licked his lips. 

"I didn't know you were religious." 

"Just praying for your imminent recovery." 

When Lex swallowed, then shifted, Clark glanced between Lex's legs and noticed that the phantom venom was having a similar effect on him.  "Thanks, Lex.  You're a real friend."

Lex gave a half-hearted lick across the well-tended vein of Clark's wrist, while his eyes stayed fixed downward.   "I just remembered something that Hippocrates said about poison." 

'Aha,' Clark thought. Lex had a Greek guy for every occasion.  Thank God.

"Seems that it's really dangerous when blood pools in one place.  It needs to circulate, so the good blood overpowers the bad.   I could help you out with your problem.   All in the name of modern science, of course." 

Clark couldn't speak, his mouth Sahara-dry, so he nodded, but Lex didn't move.

"Are you sure you want it, Clark?" 

Given that he was naked on Lex's desk, his cock sticking out, the head shining and ready, the answer seemed pretty obvious.    "I might die if you don't."   It sounded as true as it felt. 

Lex smiled, the first real one of the morning.  It was even better than Lex's tongue on his wrist.  "Then I'll do it."  He knelt, his hands closing around Clark's cock. 

The touch sent the room whirling, but something crept out from behind the fireworks.   His old enemy, guilt.   Or maybe it was fear, something that really did feel like a spider bite.  "Lex."  Clark touched his shoulder. 

"What?" 

"Are you sure that you want to do this?  I feel like I'm kind of forcing you." 

"Does this feel like you're forcing me?"  Lex took Clark's hand and moved it between his legs to the hardness there. 

"It feels like you might need medical attention.  When you're done with me, maybe I should, you know, check you out.   If that's okay." 

"Clark," Lex said slowly, "you might not have noticed, but I've been needing medical attention for a few months.   Ever since the river." 

"I think maybe I noticed.  But you never said anything.  You never did anything." 

"What did you want me to do?  This?"  His mouth closed over Clark's cock. 

"Oh, God," Clark moaned, which, all things considered, passed as a reasonable approximation of "Yes". 

"Or maybe this?" Lex licked a perfect circle around the head. 

Clark's cock officially replaced his wrist as the site requiring serious attention.  In fact, every other part of him faded, like he was invisible now except for his dick, held so tightly in Lex's hands as Lex licked it from top to bottom, tracing this other blue vein. "That's...God. You could've done this." 

"All you had to do was ask."  He moved one hand lower, under Clark's balls, and licked them, too, until Clark was wet and shiny everywhere. 

"I didn't know how.  You're the one with the experience." 

"That's why you had to come to me."  With his mouth fixed on the swollen head of Clark's cock, he sucked, and it looked like a series of kisses. 

Clark placed his hands flat on Lex's skull and let himself be cured.   Who needed guilt or fear, especially with his best friend's scarred mouth sliding up and down his cock, and Lex staring up with that dazed, happy look?   "You asked before what I liked," Clark said, and it sounded broken, his words in sharp pieces.   Everything inside him felt like sharp pieces.   "I like you, Lex." 

His hips rocked while Lex sucked harder, his hands trailing his mouth, and the desk was scraping the tiled floor.   So many sounds, from the desk to Clark's moans to the wet slickness of Lex's busy mouth to the low sighs Clark felt against his cock.   It was too much, noise and heat biting everywhere, so good he was shouting Lex's name and pushing hard to be taken all the way inside.   Then he was, deep as a river, miles down Lex's throat, and-- 

"Lex. Oh, God, Lex, I'm going to..."  And he did, as the itch that had started in his wrist that morning rushed through his veins to his cock, then poured into Lex's mouth.   It might've lasted an hour or only a minute; time crunched and expanded as he gave it all to Lex.   Finally, Clark announced, "I think I'm okay now," and helped Lex to his feet, although his own bones still weren't solid. 

"You've always been okay," Lex told him, wrapping his arms around Clark's neck.  "Weird excuses to initiate sex aside." 

"Lex..." 

"What is it? Another spider got you?"   He pressed against Clark, whose softening cock met Lex's solid one. 

"It's just that I told you what I liked.   I want to know what you like." 

"Ancient Greek remedies for infectious insect bites." 

"Anything else?" 

"Being saved.   By you." 

Clark pulled Lex closer, his lips slipping against the soft skin of Lex's cheek, then his mouth, until it turned into a series of kisses. 

Later, he'd catch some flies in a glass jar and bring them to the spider that lived in the hay-filled corner of his loft.   Seemed a fair trade, since it turned out that God or some kind of important cosmic Big Guy did actually pay attention to the needs of teenage aliens.