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Between a Man and His Parasite

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Lying in bed, staring up at his water-stained ceiling, Eddie contemplates the sheer fucking absurdity of his current existence. Semi-possessed by an alien parasite. Talking to Anne again. Working in journalism again, only this time he gets to call his own shots. Overall, things have been looking up.

Really, they have been.

In fact, his future has never looked quite so rosy.

There’s just this one little thing.

His palm rests on his bare stomach, fingers practically itching to sneak under the waistband of his boxers, but he doesn’t.

Can’t.

What are you doing, Eddie?

Thing is, Eddie hasn’t gone so long without touching his dick since he was in middle school, maybe. Since he learned what his dick was for. Superpowers are great and all, and Venom generally makes a decent head-mate, but the complete and utter lack of privacy in every aspect of his life has been trying in this one aspect.

To say the least.

But it’s not like Eddie’s going to give up orgasms for the rest of his entire life. He probably can’t, actually, though his subconscious might resort to wet dreams if he stops taking care of himself, so to speak. Eddie isn’t sure if that would be more or less embarrassing than trying to jerk off with Venom over his shoulder.

Literally, sometimes.

“So… is it possible for you to give me some privacy?” Eddie asks, already expecting the answer.

What do you mean?

“Like, you go away for a little while and aren’t. You know.” Eddie waves a hand vaguely in front of him, as though that really clears it up. “Not listening in all the time.”

No.

“Hmm.”

Eddie stares at the dark ceiling for a while, contemplating.

“Can you leave? For a little while?”

No.

“You did it in the hospital.”

Not willingly. I cannot live on your planet without a host.

Maybe Eddie could get a dog.

“What if I had a dog?”

No.

“You did it before,” Eddie points out. Anne had told him that much.

Not willingly.

“Yeah but. C’mon.” Eddie’s pretty sure that Venom just doesn’t want to, the asshole. “Will it kill the dog?”

...Yes.

“Are you lying?”

...No.

“You’re not a very good liar.”

Neither are you.

Eddie lies in silence for a little while, debating whether or not jerking off is even worth the effort. People do that, right? Priests and shit. It’s possible.

What do you want, Eddie?

“Don’t worry about it.”

Is this about mating?

“Sort of.”

Mating with Anne?

“No. Humans don’t always… mate… with other humans.”

Odd. Why not?

“Can’t you just…” Eddie waves his hand around his head, followed by the indescribable sensation of Venom sifting through his memories. He should probably be used to it by now, but he’s not.

I see. You mate with your hand. Is that because you’re a loser?

Asshole.

“No. Everyone does that, sometimes. It’s normal for humans.”

Mmmm.

Venom sounds doubtful, because Eddie shares his headspace with an asshole.

“You didn’t see anything like that, when you were in Anne?”

I was not looking. She and I are not compatible the way we are. I would have harmed her.

“Cool, yeah, good. Don’t hurt Anne.”

I will not.

Eddie nods. He knows that Venom won’t, mostly because Eddie wouldn’t forgive that.

“Or Dan, either. Dan’s a good guy.”

That is not how you win her back.

“Can’t win her back by killing her boyfriend. And Dan really helped me out there.”

Venom says nothing, which Eddie takes to mean Venom disagrees but isn’t willing to argue with a foolish human. Privately, Eddie doesn’t think he’s going to win Anne back. Not with Dan in the picture, not with Venom. And that’s fine. Really, it is. What Eddie really wants is for Anne to be happy, and he’s not sure that he’s the one who can do that, anymore.

You want to mate with your hand.

Eddie sighs. He thought they had wandered far enough away from that point.

“I’m all right, buddy. Don’t worry about it.”

If this is a normal human function, then you should not deny yourself.

“It’s…” Eddie struggles to find the words to explain masutrbation to a disembodied space alien. “...it’s not strictly necessary. And it’s something we do alone, which I am not. So.”

This is why you wanted me to leave. So that you can mate your hand.

Jesus Christ.

“Yeah, but you said that you can’t, so that’s where we’re at.”

Hmm.

Just as Eddie starts to think that he’s escaped the conversation, Venom pipes up again.

There are many acts which humans do in private which I have seen you do. Bathe. Release waste. Weep. Why is this different?

“It just is.”

Why, Eddie?

Eddie takes a deep breath and counts down from ten, then releases it in a gust of air.

“Why can’t you let it go?”

Because I do not intend to leave you. If this is a human function, then you must learn to do it with me.

Venom, Eddie thinks, is afraid to get kicked out of Eddie’s body, if Eddie gets tired of his dire lack of orgasms. An understandable concern, but it’s moot. Eddie has no intention of kicking Venom out, orgasms or not. Jerking off doesn’t hold a candle to the rush of tearing apart a spaceship or defending Mrs. Chen or saving the world, so.

“I really don’t. But seriously, it’s fine. Dandy.”

Do it once. If it is strange, then you can cease and I will not bother you.

Eddie doesn’t really want to show Venom the joys of masturbating, but it’s been weeks. He’s only human.

“Can you be quiet? Act like you’re not there?”

Yes.

Eddie blows out another breath.

“Okay. Cool. I’ll just…” He stops talking, because he’s supposed to be pretending that Venom isn’t there, not narrating his actions.

Instead, he palms his cock over his boxers, hoping that he doesn’t get performance anxiety - not that that happens to Eddie, but the one time it did would be the one time he has an alien in his head who won’t let him live it down. He can easily imagine Venom’s you’re a loser, Eddie, if he can’t even get a boner…

What he really needs to do is stop thinking about Venom.

Seriously, though.

His dick doesn’t seem to mind whatever shit show his thoughts are up to, perking up immediately at the light friction. It’s been too damn long. His reaction has nothing to do with Eddie’s weird passenger.

Honestly.

Eddie pushes his boxers down and then wiggles gracelessly until he can toss them onto the floor.

He can feel the press of Venom on the back of his mind, even though no thoughts filter through. Usually, Venom speaks his mind constantly, so Eddie has never needed to try and intuit what Venom’s thinking. Now it’s hard not to think about it. There’s a silent void in the back of his head but it’s still there.

Eddie closes his eyes and tries to focus on what he’s doing. Hand. Dick. Up-down, easy as breathing. Natural. It takes him a while to find a rhythm, but he manages, eventually. It even starts to feel good.

He’s never had sex in public - never managed to check off that particular sexcapades box - but now Eddie thinks that he doesn’t need to. Trying to get off with an audience is weird.

Eddie is kinda, sorta, starting to get into it, but he can legit feel the weight of Venom’s curiosity pressing against the back of his mind, even though his passenger is keeping their terms of silence.

“Ugh, what?”

The formless press of thoughts undulates, for lack of better term, but remains silent.

“Seriously, I think your silence is worse than your talking. What?”

Is this all?

“Yeah, kinda.”

Human mating is boring.

“This isn’t mating, it’s… it’s just stress relief. Didn’t you see that in my memories?”

Human memories are poor records and you do not experience the world the way that I do. It is difficult to apply what you remember to what I see.

Eddie sighs.

“Can you feel that it feels good?” Eddie gives his dick a few pulls to demonstrate.

Yes.

“Okay, so I keep doing that, and it feels better and better. The whole point is that it feels good, not that it’s interesting.”

And then what?

“And then you have an orgasm.”

And then what?

“And then… I dunno, the point is the orgasm. Then you go to sleep.”

Boring.

“What do you do, that’s so interesting?” Eddie regrets the question the moment it’s out of his mouth.

I can show you.

“Nope! No, that’s all right. I’m trying to, uh, focus, here.”

Eddie has a feeling that if he gets pulled into Venom’s memories, he’ll lose his boner permanently. His imagination easily supplies a weird writhing mass of teeth and tongues and tentacles - at least, he hopes it’s his imagination - and that way madness lies.

No, no, no. Focus on the task at hand.

Continue, then.

Much easier said than done. Eddie tugs halfheartedly at his cock, wondering whether or not it’s worth trying to call this little experiment off. He’s tried jerking off with Venom and failed. Maybe it’s time to tap out, take his participation trophy, and stop embarrassing himself.

Eddie doesn’t get the chance to say that, though. Instead, he’s distracted by the tingly, peeling sensation of Venom materializing a limb on his upper thigh.

Eddie freezes.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks as the tendril brushes against the backs of his knuckles.

Helping.

“It’s polite to ask, first. No, actually, it’s necessary to ask first. Human rules.”

Do you need help, Eddie?

“No.”

Liar.

The tendril brushes against his fingers again, more deliberately this time. When Eddie doesn’t say anything, the tendril continues upward and brushes against the underside of his cock, surprisingly soft.

Eddie lets out a breath that’s shocking loud in the quiet room.

When Eddie doesn’t say anything, the tendril wraps itself around his cock, just above where his hand rests, still frozen.

He should have seen this coming, really, but somehow he didn’t.

The tendril squeezes a little, then moves up, then down, mimicking Eddie’s movements from moments ago. The sensation is unlike anything he’s ever felt before - soft but firm, slippery but dry. It’s foreign. Alien.

Eddie groans, lets go of his cock where he’s been strangling it for dear life, and covers his face with his hands. This might as well happen, right? Get possessed by an alien parasite, save the world, get fucked by an alien parasite… it’s all in the same vein. It’s not like this is any more fucked up than the rest of it.

Probably.

Maybe.

Probably not. But, you know, whatever. This is Eddie’s life now, so…

The tendril wrapped around his cock undulates, grows more confident. It strokes from base to tip, now that it has the room with Eddie’s dumb hand out of the way, tugging curiously. It feels so fucking strange, but all Eddie can seem to do is moan. Sex always feels better when someone else is touching you. Even if that someone is an alien cohabitating in his body.

Eddie feels the tingling sensation in his other thigh, and then there’s a second tendril, because of course there is. It squirms down to his balls and does something - the sensation is hard to describe because it’s all hard to describe - but it feels great. Fantastic. Weird as hell.

Good?

“Shut up.”

Are there more places that make you feel good?

“Please stop talking.”

A spot on Eddie’s ribs tingles, and then there’s a tendril slinking over his chest, his abs. It dips into his belly button and skates from hip bone to hip bone. It would tickle, if Eddie were ticklish. Instead it just makes him shiver. The long, slow pulls on his cock are making him crazy but he also doesn’t want to beg for something faster, harder.

Eddie isn’t quite ready to verbalize anything about the current situation.

The tendril wanders up his chest and eventually makes its way over to one of his nipples. And listen - Eddie’s nipples have never been that sensitive, okay? They’re just kind of there. Like most guys’ are, probably. But you wouldn’t know that from the strangled noise he makes, some kind of cross between a gasp and a whimper. The tendril rubs over his nipple softly, then firmly, then delicately wraps around it and tugs.

Eddie takes his hands off his face for just long enough to grab a pillow and practically suffocate himself with it while he shouts.

It’s all — it’s too much, really, truly. The sensations are overwhelming. His cock, his balls, his nipple - no, both nipples now, Jesus fucking Christ - all the points of contact, of pleasure, are basically turning Eddie’s mind into mush.

A tendril nudges at his knee and Eddie doesn’t even think, just shifts where directed. Until there’s another tendril creeping up between his legs, brushing over his hole. Eddie doesn’t even realize that he’s been thrusting up into the tendril around his dick until he stops, frozen. It’s been a long time since he’s had anything touch him there - not since Bryan - and somehow he’s caught off guard again, even though he shouldn’t be. He gave Venom permission to go digging through his sex memories, and it’s not like Eddie has never been fucked before.

Eddie pulls the pillow away from his face.

“Uhhh…”

The tendril pushes forward, the thin tip slipping inside him.

You like this.

Venom doesn’t ask. The answer was plain to see in Eddie’s memories.

Yes, Eddie?

“Yeah,” he croaks.

The tendril pushes deeper. It’s so thin, so slick, that it doesn’t stretch or burn at all. It’s just there. Eddie clenches around it experimentally, and it grows a little thicker in response, presses in more firmly. It rubs against him from the inside until it hits his prostate.

There.

Venom sounds smug. Again, it’s not a question, just a statement.

The tendril starts thrusting, and on every pass it feels a little thicker, a little firmer. Eddie’s body stretches out so slowly he almost doesn’t notice, until he’s being fucked in earnest, and then he realizes several things in quick succession: one, he’s going to come soon; two, the tendril on his dick has mostly stopped, presumably distracted by the task of wrecking Eddie’s ass; and three, that Eddie will never be able to have sex with a human again, because nothing, nothing, could ever top this.

Eddie tries thrusting up into the tendril around his dick, but it just moves with him, instead of providing the friction he so desperately needs. And that’s fine - Eddie himself isn’t that great at multitasking, he can’t expect much more of Venom - but when Eddie reaches down and takes himself in hand, in the blink of an eye his arms are pinned above his head, in that grotesque marionette movement Venom does when controlling Eddie’s body directly.

NO.

“What the fuck?”

The tendril around his cock coils and writhes, but doesn’t start the same jerking-off motion as before.

You are approaching orgasm.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, aiming for nonchalant but whining instead, “that’s the whole point, remember?”

Yes, you have an orgasm, and then you go to sleep. But I am not done learning, yet. And so you are not done either.

Tendrils sprout from Eddie’s arms and bind his wrists together, and then wrap around the headboard. Eddie couldn’t have moved his arms from where they were pinned anyway, but there’s something about being bound that makes the situation that much more real. More tendrils sprout from his calves and pin his legs down to the bed, leaving him completely helpless.

And yeah, he’s basically definionally always helpless to Venom’s whims, but usually that helplessness isn’t quite so concrete.

The thrusting starts up again - that, too, had slowed in Venom’s distraction - along with the tendrils plucking at his nipples and the strange coiling sensation around his cock. Eddie thrashes to the best of his ability, but he’s caught. At Venom’s mercy.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

There’s no doubt in Eddie’s mind that his neighbors can hear him - he’s not quiet, hasn’t been quiet - but at this point he’s whimpering so continuously that they probably think he’s a girl.

Hmm.

Another tendril pokes around at his entrance, and then slips gently inside. The big one keeps thrusting, but the small one - that’s targeted. It wriggles up and rubs right where Eddie needs it most.

“Fuck.” He slams his head back against the pillow and tries to thrust his hips, fails, whines.

Eddie…

“Yes, what, what do you want?”

Are you enjoying yourself?

Eddie can’t even answer. Venom tightens the coils around his cock, and the tip comes up to tease around his cock head. Eddie feels like he’s gonna die. The sensation is building, and building, and building, and building, in a way that shouldn’t be possible, isn’t humanly possible. Eddie’s entire body is on fire.

Come now, Eddie…

Eddie shoots off like a motherfucking rocket. Come strips his stomach, his chest, his fucking chin. Venom milks him through it, wringing every last burst of pleasure until it starts melting into overstimulation, into sparks of pain. There’s a brief moment where Eddie thinks, oh, no, I can’t deal with this - but then Venom releases him and most of the tendrils melt away. The one in his ass pulls out slowly, leaving him empty, gaping.

Venom’s face comes looming out of the darkness, then, sprouting from Eddie’s shoulder and surveying the mess of Eddie’s body. That long tongue laps up the mess that Eddie made - that Venom made of Eddie - come and sweat and probably some tears, too.

Hmmmmm…

Venom retreats back into Eddie’s body, leaving Eddie sprawled out on his bed, dead to the world.

That was interesting. More interesting than what you were doing, anyway.

Eddie groans.

Sleep now.

As Eddie drifts off, he can’t help but think of all the things Venom could do, with a little bit of practice…