~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Disclaimer time once again!   Forty-ninth verse same as the first . .everybody *sing*: I don't own these characters, (chorus) Paramount does! I don't own this venue, (chorus) Paramount does! I am making no money off of this, (chorus) Paramount does not either! This story involves sex between two men, aka: slash.  If that is *not* your cup of tea, sweet as it is, then don't read it! (simple, ain't it??) Feedback is *very* much appreciated, and always answered. Flames will be passed around to friends and chuckled over.  :) This takes care of Mykkhal's 'first time' challenge on the PKSP and provides a perfectly reasonable explanation for when spitting *should* take precedence over swallowing.   'Bitten' by Amirin ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* "It bit you *where*?  How the hell did *that* happen?" Harry groaned again, tried to curl into as small a ball as possible, and wished he could just disappear altogether. "I was answering a call of nature, Tom; it's not like I planned it . . . Ohhhhhh . . ." Tom whipped out the tricorder and his eyes widened in dismay as he noted Harry's temperature rising.   "Shit," he muttered, then drew a hand over Harry's hair to sooth the panicked look in his best friend's eyes.  "It'll be okay, Har, I just have to get the poison out.  Let me see it." "Nooooo. . ." Harry wrapped both hands around his knees and groaned again. "Harry, come on," Tom moved closer to him, rubbing his friend's back, then gently moved the man's arms out of his way.  "Come on, Har, relax.  I need to see the bite . . ." He slowly worked to get Harry flat out on the ground and cursed Janeway for taking Voyager an hour away to scan the near-by asteroid belt, thinking they'd be all right on their own.  When had *that* ever happened? The tricorder insisted that the poison needed to be removed, but there was no way Tom could do that on this god-forsaken planet.  Well, except the old-fashioned way, like they used to do for snake-bite victims.  He'd have to suck the poison out.  Orally.  Which would have been no big deal, except the damned creature had bitten Harry right on his cock. "Yeah, this'll be fun . . ." Tom muttered dryly, seeing Harry's eyes try to open.  He sighed. "Harry, I have to get the venom out, okay?  Just hold still." "How?" Harry grated out through chattering teeth. "Trust me, Har, all right?  Just close your eyes . . . and think of something . . . pleasant." Tom moved Harry's hands out of the way and winced in sympathy at the large, angry-red bite on the head of Harry's cock.  Damn, that must hurt. He leaned down carefully and moved the organ to where he could get to it easier.  Opening his mouth, he fastened his lips over the thick crown and started a firm suction.  He could taste the venom almost immediately, extremely bitter and very acidic.  Spitting out what he had already gotten to the side, he glanced up to check on Harry.  Enormous brown eyes stared back at him. "You're doing fine, Har, just stay quiet."  With that, he lowered his head again and continued the suction.  Harry shifted under him so he grasped the man's hips in his hands and held him still.  He'd gone through the suck-and-spit routine twice more when he noticed Harry's cock was considerably larger than it was when he started.  And hard as the proverbial rock.  Poor guy. "It's okay, Harry, hear me?  I'm almost done," he murmured, before getting to work, again.  He barely noticed that he couldn't really taste the bitterness of the venom anymore, but he didn't want to stop, just in case he missed any.  All he could taste, right now, was . . . well . . . Harry. Another groan, or maybe it was a moan, brought his head up and he grabbed the tricorder to see if it could tell him why Harry was breathing so fast. Heartrate was elevated, as was blood pressure, but the fever seemed to be dropping.  Even so, the Ensign's face was redder than Tom's uniform. "You all right?  Harry, talk to me." "Don't stop," Harry whispered, looking down at him. "Please." Tom studied the tricorder again and frowned.  "Harry, most of the venom is gone.  You're going to be fine." He hadn't even noticed he was gently rubbing the bite with his fingers until Harry arched upward into his hand with another groan. That was when it hit him. "Oh, shit," he whispered, as Harry moved his legs further apart to give Tom more room.  "You're enjoying this," he realized aloud, shaking his head. "I can't *help* it," Harry ground out.  "You were sucking my cock, Tom. How could I *not* get turned on?" "I was only trying to help you, not get you off," Tom insisted, more shocked than angry. "Then, what are you doing to me *now*?" Harry asked incredulously, feeling the wonderfully firm stroke of Tom's hand on his hardness, and almost cried out in frustration when Tom dropped his rigid flesh as though it were the damned creature that had bit him in the first place. Tom swallowed roughly, picked up the tricorder again, and saw that some of the poison still inside Harry was slowly backing up into his cock. "Harry, we've got to get the rest of it out," Tom looked up and amended that statement quickly.  "I mean, you've got to get the rest of it out. You're gonna have to . . . You need to . . . um, you know." Harry shook his head, his hands twitching at his sides.  "I can hardly *move*, Tom, how am I supposed to jack off?" "Damn," Tom swore, realizing that the venom had caused a slight paralysis in the younger man. "Okay, I'll have to do it. I guess.  Right?  No problem, I can do this." He took Harry in hand again, stroking the man as he had earlier.  Hell, it wasn't Harry's fault. The guy was young and at that age where damned near anything could trip the trigger.  Harry thrashed a little, still not able to move much, and moaned again.   Tom cursed inwardly as the needy sound hardened his own cock.  He went a little faster and licked his lips, watching Har react to the pleasure he was giving him. Okay, he knew why Harry was getting off on this.  So, what was his excuse? "Oh, gods, that's good," Harry murmured, bucking up into Tom's hand. "Faster . . ." Tom swallowed heavily and quickened his pace, saw Harry catch his lip between his teeth and nearly groaned himself. Shit, a totally aroused Harry Kim was something else, again. "That's it, Har.  Come on," he encouraged.  "Come for me. Come on." Harry's throat tightened around the wail trying to escape and his back arched as he erupted into Tom's hand, overflowing the long fingers.  A few more pulses and he was spent and exhausted.  He looked up blearily to see Tom wiping his hand on the grass with an odd smile on his flushed face and couldn't help freezing when blue eyes captured his own. "Okay?" Tom whispered, brushing the dark hair off Harry's sweaty forehead with his clean hand as the man nodded tiredly.  The pilot picked up the tricorder and sighed.  Only traces of the poison were still there, not enough to do any harm; it was in the very tissue, where it could remain until Harry got back to Voyager.  Tom looked down at himself and sighed ruefully.  Trying to be professional about this wasn't lessening his own arousal, which was pressed firmly against his leg, throbbing and aching. "Are *you* okay?" Harry asked quietly, wondering how much of a strain this was going to put on their friendship as he worked on regaining the feeling in his hands. "Yeah, Har.  I'm fine," Tom answered automatically, but Harry's raised eyebrow called it the lie he knew it to be and he sighed. "I think I enjoyed that almost as much as you did," he admitted quietly, eyes on the ground. Harry smiled when Tom was finally looking at him. "First time the man doing that wasn't me," he said quietly.  "You've got great hands." Tom snorted and sighed.  "Thanks," he acknowledged with good humor, but couldn't get the memory of the rapturous look he'd put on Harry's face out of his mind. "What are you thinking?" the object of his thoughts asked him. "Truth?" "Always." "I'd be willing to bet that you've got great hands, too," Tom replied softly. "Come here," Harry offered after a moment's thought, indicating the ground next to him. "You sure?" Tom frowned. "I'm sure," Harry nodded as the pilot reclined at his side.  His reawakened fingers quickly parted the fabric of Tom's slacks and freed his erection. "Wow," he whispered, running his hand down the length of it. Tom snorted, then groaned harshly when Harry slid a fingertip over the head and back up to the root.  "Damn, does that feel good." "You aren't telling me anything I don't know," quipped Harry as he sped up the strokes along the hot, silky skin. "Ohhh, Harry," Tom's voice caught on an aroused chuckle and Harry took that as a sign to quicken the pace.  Startled blue eyes opened and Tom hissed, arching upward with a low moan. "That's it," Harry said huskily.  "Just like that." Tom's hands tightened into fists as he tried not to cry out loud, but Harry was mercilessly demanding the honesty of his response and he could give no less. Tension coiled within him and Harry seemed to sense it; his hand went a little faster, his grip, a little harder. Tom couldn't have fought it if he wanted to, which he didn't, and he came with a cry, filling Harry's hand until his seed ran down the man's wrist.  There was a brief pause as he tried to find a steady heartbeat and his closed eyes opened at a soft touch on his cheek. "Thank you," Tom whispered, grinning upward into the warmth of Harry's smile. "You're more than welcome, Tom," Harry murmured in reply. ********************************end