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The apartment's walls were plain, and the decoration was, in general, quite spartan.

The music was simple, and subdued. Everyone attending the party provided their own music - at least in Dustin's mind. After he'd had enough to drink, people's voices were somehow more structured-sounding, more melodic.

Dustin knew no-one here. He kept reminding himself why he was here: his friend from college had some other friends from the gym, who were having a party for the sake of a party. They insisted Dustin to come, and he came, though he was in no mood.

It was the middle of Summer, it was too hot, and there were bugs... not just any bugs. Big damn flies everywhere on the street. They actually didn't seem to be in the apartment at all. He was just whining, he knew that.

The hosts were Spiders - four of them. They owned the place, and were probably former frat brothers or something. They had made a kind of natural mosquito net over the windows. It was useful, but it was also sort of gross, because it came out of their bodies. Or from one of their bodies? The thought of them mixing gross grey ooze from one another together nearly made Dustin heave. He also didn't understand why they had *three* extra pairs of limbs, instead of two, but he didn't want to ask. They all had human-ish bodies, but for the faces and tails, with arms and legs - then three more long, segmented limbs.

If they weren't all naked, this would have been less obvious to Dustin, he was sure.

They were all very friendly to Dustin. Very, very friendly. They had obviously been told about the breakup, and so, they were obnoxiously trying to be helpful. Each had their own definition of 'help'.

Jamal was an "Orb-Weaver", he'd explained, and he was the tallest and drunkest of the Spider quartet. All six of his eyes were big and dark and wet, and Dustin could see sickly saccharine compassion in them. His skin was a lovely crimson, with yellow fur over his forelimbs, tail, and chest. Some of his many hands kept 'accidentally' pulling Dustin's drink away for his own good, the blasted hypocrite.

Amir was a "Recluse", Jamal had said, and he was about Dustin's height, and completely sober. He was slimmer than the other Spiders, but his arms and legs were relatively longer... it was difficult to tell if he was fit, or just skinny, because the exoskeleton - while flexible - was thick enough that it did not show their musculature. He was a little less touchy-feely than the other three - and the hazel-coloured fur covering his body was delightfully soft, for all that it belonged to a relative stranger. He obviously wanted Dustin to feel at home. It was difficult to make eye contact with him. He had a pair of eyes where a person's would be, to make eye contact with, but his forehead had a strange pale patch, shaped like a violin, and Dustin kept looking at it, instead of Amir's eyes.

Simon was pretty sauced, but not all the way to Jamal's level. He was obviously some kind of Tarantula, and his fangs were massive - almost intimidating. They were usually folded away into his face, so all Dustin saw most of the time were the muscular things that moved them, shifting side to side when he talked. When he laughed, though, it was a little scary. He was furry, and black and brown, like a hench, many-eyed, many-armed teddy bear. Obviously, he was the athlete of the four. He was cunning, too, though. Dustin had only realised after the conversation he had with Simon that he'd confessed some things about the breakup to him, about his feeling lonely, when he'd really been trying not to make anyone else deal with his problems. Simon was one to be wary of, because he was the most likely to succeed in their little plan to be BFFs.

Last, and least intrusive, was Finlay, the "Peacock Spider". He was shortest, and brightly coloured, with silvery-grey fur all over him, red stripes, and two blue and yellow 'frills' on his tail. While he was eye-catching, he was shy, too, and the shortest of the lot. Dustin kept noticing the Spider once people moved out of the way, and it was a little unnerving how the two big eyes on the front of his face seemed to follow you around the room. He literally had eyes in the back of his head, too, so Dustin never felt unobserved by Finlay when he was in the room.

The other guests came and went. Dustin couldn't really remember their names, or anything about what they had said to him, and he didn't care. The party didn't get especially wild, not overall: every guest seemed to have arrived with a completely different idea of how wild it was going to get, including the hosts. Jamal had drunk for a bachelor party. Finlay smelled just a little of weed, and it explained a lot about the slow way he spoke, and explained how he wasn't nearly as jittery as Dustin's friend had described him. Simon seemed like he was halfway through Thanksgiving, where you drank to be merry or to cope. Who even knew what kind of parties Amir liked, but they were dry.

Dustin himself got reasonably drunk, but it didn't help his mood, which was obviously going to happen, in hindsight. What was surprising was that Dustin stayed through the entire Blotchicate playlist, enough to hear it start to repeat tracks.

Then, he was the last guest present.

He hadn't noticed this because he'd been sat on their sofa on his own for two hours. No-one was approaching him anymore.

Until Simon did.

"Hey," he said, visibly catching himself before he could address Dustin as 'bro'. "You came on your own, right?"

"Yeah," Dustin replied, looking at his empty beer bottle.

The Tarantula sat down next to him. He smelled like good wine and home. One of his arms slid along the back of the couch, behind Dustin. It was both comfortable and too familiar at the same time. Dustin found himself wanting to lean back.

Simon picked the bottle out of his hand, and put it on the table.

"Finlay said you don't know a lot of people in this city, yet," Simon continued. This wasn't as forceful as before. "I want you to know us by the time you leave. You shouldn't be alone."

Scratch that. That was forceful. Things were getting forceful.

"I don't think should be around people right now," Dustin said, eventually, wrapping his arms around himself defensively.

"You came, though," Simon said. Dustin was silent for a moment, hurt, but not knowing why.

Simon didn't point out that Dustin hadn't left yet. It was very polite of him.

"I've not been good company, though," he eventually said. He looked around the room, twitchily. There was nowhere to look, and he shouldn't have looked at Simon - so relaxed, spread out like a teddy that's way bigger than the kid it's for.

Simon's arm moved from the back of the couch, forward over Dustin's shoulder. He curled his big hand around Dustin's shoulder and pulled him back against the sofa. Dustin pushed a little against the hold, once, as if for his pride's sake, but let him do it. The Tarantula's fur wasn't stiff or urticating like he'd expected - it was soft and thick, a little like wool.

"That's no bother," the Spider said.

"You're doing this because of the breakup, right? Sandra told Finlay, and now you're all cheering me up?"

"No," Simon said, his hand rubbing circles into Dustin's shoulder. "We're not going out of our way to cheer you up. Calm you down."

Dustin noticed that he didn't want to get away. He wasn't afraid. Then, Simon's chelicerae moved in such a way as to suggest a smile - a real accomplishment, for a vertical mouth - and Dustin's blood ran cold. Sort of. Cold. Not warm.

"But we will now."

"Oh, I... you don't have to do anything for me, this party's been great," Dustin said, resting his hand on Simon's wrist. Two more of Simon's giant hands crawled like friendly crabs around the couch - two more moved over and rested on Dustin's back. One other limb handed him a big glass of cold water. "Thank you," he said.

"Tell me about your problem, Dustin."

"Um."

"Talk," Simon said, lowly, with some humour. "Or I'll make you talk."

Dustin wasn't sure what he was doing, still being there, but he did like the attention.

So, he talked.

He talked about not being enough for her.

He talked about being lonely.

He talked about going out of his way to become lonely, once she was gone, because there was no point in making other people deal with how he was right now. Especially since he was crying just talking about it.

Over the course of what must have been a very long monologue, Simon continued to curl his arms around Dustin. Dustin found himself sat between the Tarantula's legs, on his broad tail - 'abdomen'? -and wrapped up in four separate furry hugs, his face on Simon's shoulder. (He didn't know what time it was, anymore.) When he realised Simon's hand had snuck into his hair, stroking it, he shook his head, and said "Stop that."

"Sorry," Simon said, uncurling his arms. Somehow, he made sitting with a far smaller human in his lap the easiest thing in the world. "Mind if I say something, though?"

"Go ahead," Dustin said, shifting to face the other way, "I can't stop you."

"When you're friends with someone... really friends... then they offer their support. Or, they listen. I'm not 'dealing with' you. Oh, hi, Finlay."

Dustin opened his eyes and saw Finlay right in front of him, on a big armchair opposite the sofa. He was splayed on his belly, legs and arms akimbo, and he waved his oval tail in the air, from one side to the other. He was the picture of a happy, sleepy stoner. He must have gotten a little higher over the course of the party.

The human was going to say something like 'we're not really friends', to Simon, but that would have felt even more rude when there was someone else in the room. And, well, he was sitting on Simon, who was hugging him, and who had just listened to at least half an hour of his problems. Dustin shook his arm free from the hug and wiped his eyes.

"Hi," Finlay said. There was something a lot more eye-catching about the blue and yellow in his tail, now. Maybe it was just because it was so late at night, and colours looked good, then.

"You enjoyed yourself tonight, honey?" Simon asked him - his voice never lost that gentle rumble it had taken on when he first saw Dustin. His hand crept back towards Dustin's hair... Dustin looked behind him again, into Simon's eyes, and whispered his consent. The claws carded through his hair, and lightly scratched him, and moved his head to face Finlay.

"Basically. Dustin's the one staying in the spare room, right? He's the only one left, so I hope he is," Finlay said, without malice or impatience.

Finlay opened his tail-frills. This showed off two eye-like patterns on either side, which seemed to change the more Dustin looked at them. He stared, happily, forward, forgetting he was going to say that he should go back to his own place.

"Sure is," Simon said, still gently stroking the human man's hair, and there was a hint of a laugh in his voice. "Now, this boy doesn't know what you do with your tail, Finlay, and he's had a bit to drink. What you're doing... it's not exactly fair."

"Don't know what you're talking about," Finlay said, unconvincing. Dustin should have been suspicious, but he wasn't. He just looked. Finlay swayed his tail from side to side, stretching his arms and legs out now and then. "What are we doing tomorrow?"

Dustin followed the tail-fan. Finlay's flicking legs didn't distract him from the fan. He was starting to feel a little lifted up, though Simon's arms remained tight around him, and the Tarantula's hand still held his head in place... he was getting a little stoned, he realised. Finlay was somehow infectious.

"Curing Jamal, for starters," Simon said, quietly. It felt like he was paying close attention to Dustin, like he'd gone quiet just for him. "We're letting this one sleep in, or we're making him do so. Boy needs his rest."

"I heard," Finlay said. "And friends, too."

"He's got friends, now," Simon said.

"Of course." Finlay smiled. "Us."

Dustin yawned, loudly.

"Sorry," he slurred.

"It's late. You yawn just as much as you need, buddy," Simon murmured to him. "You're getting nice and buzzed, and then you're gonna have a rest, bro."

The tension in the room eased a little. Dustin could tell how much Simon, the permanent jock, had needed to say that.

"Amir's making your bed, right now," the Peacock Spider said, circling his multicoloured tail almost suggestively. "You don't want to go all the way over to the other side of town to rest."

"I live a block away," Dustin said, feebly.

"Doesn't matter," Finlay corrected him, and Dustin grinned for a second, and nodded. It really didn't matter how far away he was staying. He was welcome here. It was good here. He'd stay here. "We're your friends, Dustin."

"People need to have friends," added Simon. "You've got a lot going on. Let us take some of the load off your shoulders."

Encased in the warm, stoned haze, and in Simon's hug, Dustin nodded again. He felt his shoulders relax, felt himself lean back, as if to lie down... but he just sat upright against the athletic Tarantula's chest. Simon held him where he was. It was good.

"You're gonna go to sleep," Simon whispered. "And in the morning... breakfast."

"Breakfast," Finlay said, wistfully, mostly to himself. The Peacock Spider seemed to see something in the corner of his eye - and nodded towards the door. Someone was probably there. Finlay wiggled his fan a little faster for a second, then turned his big eyes to Dustin. "You ready for a nap, my friend?"

"Yeah," Dustin said. He was sort of getting used to the stoned feeling, and more capable of thinking, now. "You sure you want me here?"

He was sort of capable of thinking, that is, until Simon's claws slid gently into his hair again, and he got lost in the feelings again.

"Course we do, bro," Simon said. He lifted them both up, and cradled Dustin in all of his arms. "Wouldn't offer to keep you here, if we didn't."

"Of course," Dustin murmured, turning his head into Simon's chest. If he hadn't been so tired and emotional, he might not have done that, but this was exactly what he needed right now, and he didn't have the energy to defend his pride. He closed his eyes.

Half-sleeping, Dustin dreamed he was sinking to the bottom of a very big lake, in a bubble. Half-awake, he was aware of being gingerly carried... up a wall. Through a door, up the wall in the short staircase to a door, to a room that smelled of something good. He realised his bubble was made of glass, that he was in a submersible suspended from a submarine. Distantly, he was being lain on something that felt like a bedsheet, felt like a mattress, and he heard many murmuring voices, so soft and low that he couldn't help but slip completely into sleep, and watch a strange play being put on the lake floor from his little bubble.

The play's plot was complex, and details kept slipping from Dustin's mind as it changed from one theme to the next, one genre to another, one location to another, completely different one. He never wondered why this lakebed hosted a play, or how all the human players could keep breathing underwater. Not until morning, when he woke up in his bed and said hello to... someone? He looked behind him at the bed, and saw the person he'd said hello to slowly vanishing.

He wasn't awake.

He tried to make himself move, then he tried to scream.

"Dustin," he heard someone say. "Dustin, it's Amir. Wake up. It's okay. We're here."

The human opened his eyes, and reality flowed in like water to fill his head, where the dream had been.

He was looking into Amir's face, he realised, as his just-woken daze passed.

"There you are," the Recluse said, recognising that Dustin was becoming more aware of everything around him. "There you go. Whatever that was - it wasn't really happening, luv. We're here, we're real, and you're safe."

"It was a nightmare," Dustin mumbled, sitting up and forward. "I think."

The morning light was streaming in from a window, but not downward onto Dustin - he was in a web, which was stretched across the centre of the room. Underneath them, on the carpet, Simon slept on his belly, his big hairy limbs splayed out in all directions. Finn was in a hammock strung in a dark corner below the web, and Jamal seemed to have made himself a little cocoon on the ceiling. Amir had joined Dustin in the web-bed, and seemed to have spun an extra sheet for them to use as a blanket. This web he lay on was as springy as a mattress, and the sheet was as soft and thin as was warranted at this time of year.

Amir had done a good job.

"I guess that's obvious, isn't it?" Dustin put his hands in his face. Amir took his wrists in hand, and pulled them away.

"What was it about?"

"Are you su --"

"We're not 'fair-weather' friends, us," Amir said, and judging by his face - which Dustin had previously thought would be inexpressive, given the many eyes and vertical mouth - he clearly meant it. It wasn't so difficult to look at his eyes instead of the violin, now that they were so close. "Tell me about your dream."

"I don't remember anything before waking up at home, and talking with someone, but then I looked at them, and they vanished," Dustin said, quietly. He looked at his feet - someone had taken his socks off before putting him in the bed. Huh. "I just felt like nothing was real anymore. I was so confused."

Amir nodded.

"I'm not a psychologist, but I think this is just some of your worries coming out," the Recluse said. "Like you were holding your breath. But, this is real, here, Dustin. And I think you need a little more sleep."

"Are you sure? I mean, you've all been so considerate, the least I can do is help clean up," Dustin said.

"Oh, you will, but not yet. Do you trust me?"

"...yeah? Is there a reason I shouldn't?"

"My venom can give you a nap," Amir said, chipper. Deliberately chipper: he managed to make it sound exactly the right kind of suspicious that meant it wasn't suspicious at all, not really.

"It's already morning," Dustin said, unsure. But they had him asleep, all night, and hadn't eaten him -- Dustin caught himself. People didn't eat other people. A giant spider, maybe, but not Spiders. What would they even want from him? Dustin wasn't rich. If Amir's venom was addictive, then... Dustin's mind raced with possible scenarios.

"None of us will be up for another hour or two," Amir said. He lay back down, on the web, under the sheet, where it was warm from the two of them. "Sorry about Finlay, last night, by the way. I advised against that whole thing."

"'That whole thing'... could you explain that to me, at least?"

They were so close, they could speak quietly enough that it didn't seem to bother any of the other sleeping Spiders.

"Finlay's tail can spread whatever's going on in his mind to other people. It leaves him as he does it. So, he can get drunk, and if you peek at the tail, you both end up half as drunk as he was. It's part of how his lot make love - sharing pleasure - and partly why almost all their men are gay, because it actually creates a feedback loop --"

"No, not what he did to me. Why?"

"Um," Amir started, staring up at the ceiling. "Well, we were supposed to take you in. Under our wing, so to speak. Your friend Sandra demanded it, and told us about you, so we decided to give it a shot. She also told us you were, um, reclusive. So, we tried to show you a good time."

"Did you force me to stay here?" Dustin asked.

"No. The shared sensations are... superficial. Like a smell. You can stop or ignore it whenever you want - or if you get really scared - and if it lasts for too long, it starts wearing off." Amir turned to face Dustin. "Do you feel like we forced you...?"

"No," Dustin said. Then, because he felt like he should be honest, "I just feel weird, that I allowed all of this to happen. I mean, I don't know you guys. It's nice of you to offer all of this, I just... I don't know what you get out of it."

"I think we have lots of reasons," Amir said. He used his arms to wrap the sheet more tightly around Dustin's side, tucking him in. "Some parts kindness, some parts... helping other people can give you a sense of power. Your friend said your sadness was driving people away. We know what it's like to have driven people away."

"That wasn't because you were sad," Dustin said, unhelpfully, "it's because you're giant Spiders."

"The longer you look a gift horse in the chelicerae, ape, the higher the chances she'll bolt," Amir replied, but he wasn't serious. "Shall we leave the venom for now?"

"Nah," Dustin said, after a moment's consideration. He bent his neck to expose more of it. "Go ahead."

"I'm not gonna bite you, dummy," Amir said, smacking Dustin's shoulder. (The other Spiders in the room stirred a little at all the noise, but not much.) "You've got to drink it. Here. Face up, close your eyes, open your mouth."

Dustin did as he was told, suppressing a laugh.

One of Amir's claws suddenly brushed beside his mouth.

"Gimme a smile."

Dustin smiled from the corner of his open mouth, despite himself. It was weirdly sexy, actually.

A couple of drops of aniseed-tasting ichor hit his tongue, and he rolled his tongue around on it, and swallowed. He could feel himself sinking again, tensions and memories loosening to unchain him and open up his brain at the front, like an eye, like Dustin's own eyes, as he woke up in the web-bed an hour later.

"Breakfast," said Jamal on his way out of the room, sounding as if he was drowning in molasses. The rest were gone. Dustin laughed, a little, and climbed down from the web-bed by a handy rope of silk.

Amir's silk had been warm and smooth, a little slippery - this rope came down from Jamal's cocoon, so it was probably the Orb-Weaver's web, and it had a more tangled, gooey feeling to it. Luckily, there wasn't any glue in there, and none of it stuck to Dustin's hands, feet or legs as he lowered himself down.

Someone - probably not Jamal - had cleared up most of the evidence there ever was a party there. Dustin followed the smell of frying carbs to the kitchen, where there were pancakes and fruit, and his four hosts, all of whom greeted him ... normally? Casually. Whatever normal was for this situation. Sure, Finlay and Simon were on the ceiling - Simon taking up most of it - but it was somehow completely cosy and domestic. Dustin sat at the table, and talked with them.

He offered no further apologies, and tears were the furthest thing from his mind.

For some reason, when he'd finished, they all shook his hand.

Jamal was last. Now that he'd had breakfast, the Orb-Weaver seemed to have recovered from his hangover. He told Dustin there was something he needed to see, pulling him by the hand.

"Amir made your bed," he said, speaking less pretentiously than he had the previous night. "That was my job."

"I... I'd rather not sleep the whole day, if that --" Jamal had taken hold of his wrists and lifted them above his head. "What are you doing?"

One pair of Jamal's hands felt over Dustin's sides, which tickled a little, before holding onto either side of his middle.

"Making sure you're comfortable," Jamal said, matter-of-factly. "You don't need to sleep."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"You will," Jamal replied. So saying, the Spider clambered up to the ceiling, carrying the human, and used his tail to attach a thick glob of silk to the ceiling. It was a little unnerving to watch, at first, because it came out of the Orb-Weaver's body with an odd mulching sound. Dustin still hadn't put his socks on, so he felt Jamal's waxy skin over his bare ankles as he took hold of them in one hand. Jamal deposited another glob, and Dustin realised these were anchor points. The human boy tried to remember what he was supposed to do today, and almost -- almost -- struggled.

However, his wrists were let go, and his shoulders gripped instead. There was a rope of silk leading from the globs on the ceiling down to Jamal's spinnerets, down at the bottom of his tail.

Jamal held Dustin flat.

"Go limp," Jamal said. Dustin laughed a little, but he did as he was told, and was rotated for his trouble.

A sheet of nearly-sticky web, like satin, was wrapped around his ankles - up his legs, binding them together.

"Jamal, uh," Dustin said, maybe a little concerned now, but found a tape of silk wrapped around his mouth for his trouble. He decided to just go with it, and stayed limp, allowing his feet and head to dangle as he was firmly but gently mummified. "Mmh."

He couldn't move.

"Yes," Jamal said, eventually. "Let me just... there. Stretch your arm down?"

It felt good.

"Now that you're all wound up, you can unwind yourself." Jamal let him go, and Dustin felt his body dangle on the four or five anchor points that linked his cocoon to the ceiling. He could only feel this, because the web-wrapping covered his eyes, too. Luckily, the stuff over his hair held on from being pulled tight rather than being sticky.

Jamal's long, smooth fingers slipped into the cocoon, and reached Dustin's shoulders, and... did something. Something helpful. Dustin sort of gasped, into his gag, breathing through his exposed nose.

"Sorry for the delay," Jamal said, just to him.

A playlist started up again on the speakers. Some kind of gentle percussion, ethnic drums. (Dustin always wondered why they were called that. He imagined filling out a form. 'Ethnicity: drum'.)

Jamal's massage seemed not to even tear any of the many threads binding Dustin, only pass through them. There was still not the smallest thing Dustin could do to resist it. He couldn't get out, he couldn't object. He could only relax. Jamal's voice was changing, and became as irresistible as his hands.

"You'll need a bath, after this," he said.

"Mmhm," Dustin said, intending to apologise for the way he must have smelled. He hadn't showered yet, after all.

"No, you smell good, guy. I only mean that this stuff can stick in your hair." And a third hand slipped over the cocoon, over Dustin's head, rubbing him, and a fourth worked on both pecs, and Dustin... wriggled.

"I think he's enjoying that," Amir said, below them. Dustin flushed bright red under the silk, and this was obvious on his exposed nose.

"Think he likes the attention?" Finlay added.

He could smell the Spiders' coffee.

"Yeah," Simon said, his massive paw curling round both of Dustin's feet, "I bet our lonely little bro loves it -- ah!"

Jamal had smacked him.

"My turn," Jamal said. "You've had your fun for now."

"Sure, honey," Simon replied.

'Honey'?

He called Finlay 'honey' earlier, too. Was Simon gay? Were they all gay? Okay, so at least Jamal and Simon were together. Maybe.

"Oh," Jamal said. "Smell's changed. He's a little worried, he is."

Dustin paused for a second - no good would come of hiding it. He nodded. Jamal's claws pulled the gag on his mouth away.

"Why'd you call him 'honey'?" he asked.

"We're all together," Finlay said.

"What, all four of you?"

"You're in no position to cast judgement, Dustin," Amir said.

"No, no - no, no, no," Dustin said, shaking his head. "No judging. I just don't..." he trailed off.

"You don't understand, do you?" Jamal's hands swapped places all over him, and he felt his quads being eased, and his abs, too. "How four people come to be together at once."

"You probably wouldn't believe us if we told you," Amir said, idly, before sipping more of his coffee. Dustin, who was now facing downwards, could almost see him through the web.

The gag was placed back over Dustin's mouth.

"We actually met at an audition," Simon said, once the human was visibly just that little bit more comfortable. "Producer wanted us to be a boyband. We... weren't what they wanted. They put all us Spiders together, and gave the contract to a bunch of opossums. They died in an airplane crash later in the year, so I don't feel too jealous anymore, you hear?"

Dustin didn't know if he should laugh. Luckily, he was gagged. Jamal cut one of the ropes holding him to the ceiling - the one around his ankles - and reattached it to Dustin's back. He hung vertically. The Spider was fully wrapped around the human, now, all arms and all legs. It wasn't like Simon's all-encompassing bearhug - it was more like an added set of ropes over the silk sheets covering him.

"We went back to our day jobs, but we kept up with each other," Finlay said. "We'd meet up in pairs, then in alternating threes... it didn't seem to work if we weren't all together, so we went with that. We Spiders - we're used to living with lots of people. We've been together now for... how long has it been?"

"Ten years in January," Jamal said. He unfolded something on the back of Dustin's head, and the sheets wrapping him head to toe loosened. Slowly, the long sheet was peeled off of him, taking a great deal of sweat with it. Dustin hadn't realised he was so hot in there. Jamal asked, "You feeling good?"

"Uh huh," Dustin said, then "whoop," as he flopped down and into Simon's many warm hands, rubbing into his shoulders and hair.

"Yeah, bro," the Tarantula whispered to him, and Dustin only moaned. "You feel great. You smell good, too."

Dustin slurred an attempted response, but gave up. He was going to say something about not trying to join them as their fifth partner.

"You should move in," Finlay said. There was that weed smell again... Dustin closed his eyes instinctively. Jamal finished peeling the cocoon off of Dustin's legs, and they, too, flopped down onto Simon's furry body, limp and happy.

"It's better to live with friends," Simon murmured, and the soothing properties of his voice felt almost as psychoactive as Finlay's tail. It was like one of those shows with the deep-voiced painter taking you through a great landscape. Dustin felt furry hands rubbing up his legs - down his arms - and wrapping around his face. He was getting very familiar with all of the Spiders' scents, now.

"Especially supportive ones," Amir added, having silently crept up behind Dustin and onto Simon. He slipped his own hands onto the human, under the shirt, his own fur impossibly velvety. Dustin felt a little aroused, again, and wondered if he wasn't getting too sweet on Amir. The feeling passed relatively quickly.

"Our offer will always be open, if you don't say yes, now," Finlay said, somewhere above Dustin. He could feel a soft, rhythmic shifting, and knew exactly what was happening - the Spider had gotten high, and was waving that tail back and forth for whenever Dustin next opened his eyes. "Waiting for you."

"I," stammered the human boy, feeling utterly protected, and never really wanting to leave. He knew there was some reason he shouldn't. He just couldn't think of it right then. He didn't need to.

He had to fight it.

"You deserve to be happy," Jamal said, near his ear. He'd lain down opposite him, so their faces were together, and his belly must have been over Simon's face. "You're going to be, my man."

Dustin was wondering about the logistics of moving all his stuff over... he sighed.

"Can I at least decide later?" he asked. "You're all coming on so strong."

The three Spiders hugging him all squeezed down around Dustin, pushing his breath out.

"Okay, okay, I'll do it," he said.