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First Contact

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“Bored.”

 

“Well, that’s great and all but I’m kind of busy right now,” Eddie says absently. His fingers fly over the keys of his laptop, his current report coming slowly but smoothly together. There’s a half empty cardboard cup of coffee next to his keyboard, mostly forgotten, and the cafe bustles quietly around him despite the late hour. If he can get this done soon they might have time to pick up some dinner on their way home.

 

“Eddie I’m BORED,” Venom repeats.

 

“And I said I heard you,” Eddie snaps quietly, though it lacks any heat. “Just give me another thirty minutes or so and we’ll be out of here.”

 

Several heads turn towards him but Eddie barely registers the gazes. Spend enough time walking around talking to someone no one else can hear, you get used to being stared at all the time.

 

“No.”

 

Eddie’s fingers pause on the keys, head cocking to the side a little. Venom’s voice is always a deep, overly dramatic growl. It’s honestly pretty funny sounding when they start to bitch and moan the way they often do. But that one word, that one ‘no’ had been deeper than usual, so heavy it had practically reverberated physically through Eddie’s skull.

 

“What-” he starts, wary now, but straightens when a familiar sensation crawls down his spine. The way he and Venom are bonded means that most of the time they’re just the one body with two consciences. But occasionally it’s necessary for Venom to make a physical appearance and it’s always a super disconcerting feeling. Eddie imagines it as the opposite of a having a phantom limb, or maybe a painless sloughing off of skin. A sudden rush as part of your body shifts and now there’s more than there was before, an extension that you have only dulled sensation in.

 

There’s some kind of protrusion along the small of his back, a slick black tentacle that’s only slightly warmer than his skin. Eddie hisses and scoots back in his chair, catching the appendage between his body and the wood to try and keep it from moving around and drawing attention to them.

 

“What are you doing?” he whispers, and then jerks a little when the tentacle liquefies, slipping down and then emerging from his body again in the back of his jeans.

 

“Venom? Seriously dude, what the hell are you doing?”

 

There’s no response except for a dark, echoing laugh that slides along each of Eddie’s vertebrae.

 

There are more people glancing nervously at him now. Eddie flashes a quick, nervous smile and then stares resolutely at his laptop screen even as he feels the tentacle slip along the top of his ass and then lower still. His slams his elbow down on the table, hand coming up to hold his face but also hide the movement of his mouth.

 

“Venom,” he hisses.

 

“What?” the symbiote asks, and Eddie’s not sure how they manage to sound innocent but they do. Even as the tentacle probes further, Eddie’s spine arching a little at the foreign sensation. It’s wriggling it’s way between his ass cheeks and Eddie has a sinking suspicion that he knows where this is going.

 

“You know what! Why are you-” His voice cuts out completely when the tentacle reaches its goal, its touch warm and confident as it circles Eddie’s asshole delicately. God they’re in public what the fuck.

 

“I’m keeping myself entertained,” Venom says sweetly. “But don’t mind me, finish your paper.”

 

"You know I can’t,” Eddie replies, voice wobbling embarrassingly. But the tentacle is just barely breaching his body and his breath is shuddering out of him, anxiety sparking brightly along his nerves.

 

Normally Venom’s body…form…odd black goo, is slick and rubbery, almost sticky in texture. Not wet. But the tentacle is secreting something hot that Eddie can feel spreading along his ass, dripping into the fabric of his boxers. He’s never been fucked in his life (his own experimentation not counting of course) so his body is tight and resisting, not helped by his tense form or hammering heart. Yet the tentacle is pressing up into him anyways, spreading that hot liquid to ease its path. It doesn’t hurt, isn’t even uncomfortable, but there’s something curling low in Eddie’s stomach at the sensation. The intrusion of it. The rudeness. The depravity of having something slip slide along his insides when he’s sitting in his favorite cafe just trying to get some work done.

 

“What’s the matter Eddie?” Venom coos, their voice a low, pleasing rumble that makes Eddie’s cock twitch. “Not expecting this? I told you I was bored.”

 

The tentacle curls back on itself, stretching Eddie out, and he breathes out sharply through his nose. He slaps his hand over his mouth, brow furrowed slightly. “Why would I expect this?” he says into his palm, lips brushing the skin there.

 

“Why wouldn’t you?” Venom counters easily.

 

“Because…” Eddie’s not really sure why though, beyond the initial fact that this just isn’t something they’ve ever done before. But it’s really hard to think when the tentacle seems to have found his prostate and is rubbing insistently against it. And is it…thicker now? It feels bigger than it was before. Either way, if Eddie wasn’t hard before he certainly is now, leaking copiously against the zipper of his jeans.

 

“Because?” Venom prompts, but Eddie can only shake his head, pressing small noises into the palm of his hand and hoping the barrier is enough to muffle them. When it becomes obvious Eddie can’t or won’t answer, Venom just laughs again. “I think I like you like this. All quiet, shaking with pleasure and tension. You know you can’t leave, right? Not when you’re this hard, you’d cause a scene. You’re going to have to cum.”

 

Eddies drops his chin against his chest, hands gripping at the edge of the table as he tries to center himself. He can’t just…but he has to. Venom isn’t going to let up on him. And though the table is hiding him for now, it’s only a matter of time before he’s noticed.

 

Pleasure licks up his spine in slow, bone shaking curls, echoing Venom’s movements inside him. He already feels like he could shake apart just like this, and the only pressure on his cock is from his jeans. Who knew anal could so fucking amazing?

 

“Okay,” he manages to get out, teeth grit tight around the word so he doesn’t moan aloud. “I can…just-”

 

“Ah ah,” Venom croons. “Not so fast.” Something cool and slippery detaches itself from the insides of Eddie’s thighs, thin strings winding tight as a vice around the base of his dick. Eddie gasps, spine bowing sharply and then body shaking near violently as his orgasm is denied him.

 

“Fuck,” he hisses, voice high and tight, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes.

 

Venom hums softly, consideringly. “Watch what you say. You’re already starting to draw attention to yourself.”

 

Nervous eyes flit away from the hole they’d been digging into his laptop, though his screen has long gone dark. Sure enough, a lady a few tables away is sending him worried glances, and a man who is leaving the cafe slows as he passes. Concern? Disgust? Eddie can’t quite tell with his thoughts as scattered as they are. Do they know what’s happening right now, that he’s this close to getting off?

 

“Filthy,” Venom whispers to him. “What would they think if they knew? You’re so obscene, so sloppy like this.” As if to illustrate their point, the tentacle expands suddenly and rapidly, Eddie’s body shuddering in pain and pleasure as he scrabbles to adjust to this larger intrusion. He has to physically bite hie lip to keep from crying out, eyes squeezing shut.

 

“I’ve been waiting for this, you know. Bidding my time,” Venom continues in that low, rough whisper, like the rumble of an encroaching storm. “Knew you’d be dripping for me, that you’d gag for it. When we get home I’m going to spread you out and show you what sharing your body really means, press inside you any way I can. Your round little ass, your fat cock, that feisty mouth of yours. And your ears. Your eyes. Nose. Any way I can, Eddie, until there’s no space left inside you.”

 

It shouldn’t be hot. It shouldn’t. It’s slightly horrifying, and possessive, and grotesque. But Eddie is pressing his face into his arm, entire body wound tighter than a spring. His cock is pulsing angrily, the denial of his release mixing with the pleasure from his ass, from being filled, and the shivers created by Venom’s words. He’s never felt so electric, so close to destruction. Like one wrong touch and he’ll go super nova. He bites at the shoulder of his hoodie, face turned away from the cafe, as the tentacle expands again, pushing past whatever limits he thought he had and pulling a small, muffled whine from him.

 

He presses one, desperate word into the saliva soaked fabric. One soft, “Please.”

 

“Please what?”

 

A sob threatens to spill across Eddie’s tongue, stopped only by his teeth and the too fast pace of his breath. “Let me,” he tries, has to stop when a few tears manage to escape his eyes. Swallowing hard, he tries again. “Please let me cum.”

 

Venom makes this rough, approving noise. “So pretty when you beg,” they praise. And then the tight vice around his cock unwinds itself and Eddie fills his mouth with not just his hoodie, but the meat of his arm too, to muffle his scream of pleasure. It’s like an explosion, every cell in his body suddenly racing with pleasure, every muscle tensing and singing in unison. He tightens around the tentacle inside him, body pulsing around it as his orgasm stretches on and on and on.

 

By the time it’s over Eddie is completely drained. His boxers are wet and sticky across his softening cock and the tentacle inside him is shrinking slowly and retreating, leaving only a wet, aching emptiness in its wake. His breath is still trying to even out, chest heaving, jaw sore from how hard he’d been gritting his teeth.

 

Unfortunately, the reality of still being in public robs Eddie of any kind of after glow. People are staring openly at him now, not even bothering to hide their interest, some concerned for him, some concerned about him. Eddie blinks stupidly and then decides maybe it’d be best to leave before someone asks him to.

 

With trembling hands he gathers his stuff then stands, self consciously pulling his hoodie low over the tops of his jeans. A superstitious glances proves there’s no cum stain, but probably only barley just. He pulls his hood up and leaves on shaky legs, walking as fast as he dares.

 

Outside, night has set and the glare of street lights and neon signs jar for his attention. But the concrete is cool and dark under his feet and he watches it pass as he tries to wrap his mind around…whatever the fuck just happened.

 

They’re only a block or so from home when Venom finally speaks up again.

 

“That was fun. We should try it again sometime.”

 

“Uh, how about no?” Eddie tries, unafraid now to talk as loudly as he dares. His voice still comes out shaky and the occasional tremor works through him, the last vestiges of pleasure escaping his body.

 

“But we had such a good time,” Venom protests.

 

“Maybe you did.”

 

“Was that not the most intense orgasm of your life?”

 

Eddie’s step falters for a moment but he keeps going. “Maybe,” he admits. “But still. It was wrong.”

 

“Being wrong and having a good time are not mutually exclusive,” Venom says philosophically, followed immediately by, “Would you prefer we fuck only in private?”

 

Again Eddie’s step falters, though this time he doesn’t even try to get his rhythm back. Just stops in the shadow of a dark, looming building and tries to breathe properly. When he’s more sure of himself he starts off down the remaining block towards home.

 

“We’ll work out the details later.”