There were a lot of things Eddie wish he would’ve been warned about ahead of time. In first grade, someone could’ve told him that the kid he’d called dumb was going to punch him in the face, later become his best friend and introduce him to Anne, the love of his life, many years later. If he’d been warned (no, if he had just listened), he wouldn’t have fucked up the interview and ruined her life, his life too, nor would he have become a host to some… alien life form, bent on eating everyone in the entire city.
He would’ve especially liked it if someone had told him he and his new friend would share “hungers.”
I’m going through a growth spurt, Eddie.
He’d announced it over coffee one day as a roll of hunger thundered in his stomach. Eddie stared into his cup, watching the latte deco swirl into frothy white tendrils. He felt sick, but he was also absolutely starving.
“Okay. So, uh—what does that mean?”
Venom didn’t like it when Eddie played dumb.
They fought for control over the blazing-hot chai latte; Venom wanting nothing more than to spill it over his leg, and Eddie trying to keep that very thing from happening. Eddie had grown a little stronger over the last few months, and fighting over something was slightly more of a match lately. But in the end, Venom always won.
Drops of coffee fell and burned his—their—leg.
Venom didn’t like to hurt Eddie either.
Immediately, Venom let go and Eddie slammed the cup down on the counter, shooting it away for good measure. “You gotta eat more, is that it?”
A lot more. A whole delicious feast of bad guys.
That had been a week ago. Every night since then, Venom ate while Eddie dealt with his own version of hunger. A hunger, under no circumstances, did he want to discuss with Venom: his insatiable need to fuck.
He felt like a teenager again. A stiff breeze would set him off, tenting his pants at the most inopportune time. During a Victoria’s Secret commercial on TV, for example. On the trolley for no particular reason other than it was moving. While talking to Mrs. Chen. And every time it happened, he felt Venom writhing inside his head in pure curiosity. He hadn’t touched himself in weeks—no, months.
So, at one o’clock AM on a Saturday, when a raging hard-on hit him, Eddie didn’t have many options. He could either take Venom out for another joyride across San Francisco, or—
Eddie cleared his throat. The strange sound echoed in the too-dark room, mingling with the scattered sounds of cars driving by outside the window, and the refrigerator buzzing in the kitchen. 1:03 blazed green on the digital clock, pouring a sickly green over the blankets, the headboard, his fingers. His skin itched and the need to touch himself, fuck anything, crawled inside of him like a thousand ants.
“Hey,” Eddie whispered. “You hungry?”
Venom slithered to waking under his muscles, pooling in the marrow of his bones—at least it felt like that anyway. He could feel him now, inside of him, lurking, poised in his brain. Scanning their shared body, analyzing, searching for—
What’s happening to us, Eddie?
“Nothing! We’re good. Real good. Great, even. Never better, actually.”
“Me? I wouldn’t do that to you, buddy. No secrets, remember?”
Everything went still. The tell-tale vibration in his brain of Venom thinking, the rippling just below the surface of his skin was gone. Nothing moved. Eddie didn’t even dare to breathe. The cars outside rumbled by. Somewhere, a dog barked. Anxiety gnawed through his bones.
Black ink shot out of his arms like a science experiment gone horribly wrong. Spilling down his bare stomach, beneath the hem of his boxers, to wrap around—
Eddie jumped out of bed. “Don’t touch that!”
What is it?
“Nothing! Nothing you need to worry about.”
His voice, dark, thick and firm, shot down his spine, and a second of fear solidified in his chest. Eddie swallowed around the lump in his throat before taking a breath, trying to settle his nerves. He didn’t fear death—dying was easy. He feared having this exact conversation.
“It… happens sometimes.”
Something like impatience stabbed at one of his organs. Eddie grit his teeth through the pain before blurting out, “Fine! It’s a fucking boner, goddamnit. It happens when I’m—horny, okay?”
It feels… uncomfortable. How do we get rid of it? Eat it?
“No! For fuck’s sake, no. You can’t just eat your way through your problems, man. You need help.”
Then what do we do?
“We don’t do anything. This is my problem to handle.”
“Not this time. Just… think about food while I—deal with this, okay?”
Can we go to McDonald’s afterward?
I want to eat the cashier.
“How about you think about food, not talk about it.”
Eddie messaged his temples, then got back into bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin. His insides were still, quiet, his brain free from the icy ‘other’ presence that often perched in the darker corners. Almost as if, somehow, Venom had left their shared body entirely, and he was finally utterly alone.
Like a rabid dog let off the chain, he yanked open the nightstand drawer, grabbed the lube and squeezed a healthy glob in his hand before grabbing his aching dick. One pump, two had him flopping his head back, whispering out a thread of a groan into the darkness of the room. He ran his thumb over the head, teased the slit, then fucked up into his tight fist as hard and as fast as he could. Few more strokes like this and he’d come, so his mind raced to find that perfect image that’d throw him over the edge. Anything would do. Anything.
Black tendrils choking his dick, sinking deep into his ass—
Eddie took in a sharp breath. “Fuck you. Stop putting images in my head.”
A dark chuckle spread like a disease over his mind. That wasn’t me, Eddie.
Living dark rivulets sped down his chest, his hips, and coalesced around his cock.
That was you.
Eddie arched his back with a urgent groan as wet, tight heat sucked at him. The feeling undulated down his hard shaft, then up again to tease at the tip, just how he liked it. Playing with the slit, pressing into it, before swallowing him whole, right down to the root. The light scrape of pointed teeth had him grasping up for the headboard, just out of reach. His arms sprouted black tar that stretched and latched, holding him in place, giving him some leverage. Slowly, he pumped up into—whatever it was he was fucking, hard and steady, marching him toward damnation and release. His thighs began to shake, his fucking erratic. He was close, so goddamn close.
Do you like this, Eddie?
Do you like it when you fuck me?
So close. Eddie licked his lips, dropped his head back onto the bed. The heat, so much heat—
How much would you like it if I fucked you instead?
His world flipped, and he was face-first down on the mattress, bare ass ready for the taking. Eddie sucked in an alarmed breath and squirmed as tendrils inched up his thighs, then circled his waist to keep him still. Behind him, a massive dark shape formed, solidified, and Eddie turned his head before he saw his rows of teeth, his wide, gaping eyes. The desperate, urgent need for release died down to a low murmur, interrupted by the idea that he’d get fucked by a goddamn alien. But all the doubts went away when the sucking started again, drawing him into a world blinded by fuck me now. Gradually, Eddie let his thighs fall open, his hips sinking deeper into whatever was sucking him off. He fucked it into the mattress while something thin and warm crawled up his leg, over his hole—
“If we’re gonna do this—God, I can’t believe we’re fucking doing this…” Eddie took another deep breath. “I need you to be gentle, okay?”
That’s no fun.
“No, no, trust me, it's fun. Just—fuck, be gentle. Please."
I like it when you beg, Eddie.
Something wet and firm passed over his hole, once, twice, a third time, and Eddie gasped with the sensation. It circled the ring of muscle there, pressing into it, lavishing it with heat and attention. He slammed his hips back to get more of it, whined when the sucking sensation on his dick went away. His mind whirled, confused, wanting to fuck into something while getting eaten out, wanting to get off but needing it to last at the same time. Another swipe at his hole, another, his thighs quaking with his impending release. Close again. Almost comi—
He felt a ribbon of living darkness wrap around the base of his balls, squeezing a little, making him fumble out a noise that existed somewhere between pleasure and pain. Eddie wanted to come, and with another lick at his hole, he should’ve, but he just physically couldn’t. Fuck.
The mattress tipped a little as the hulking mass moved, its heat settling against his ass. Hard and thick, wet and warm, it pressed against his hole, sliding in, inch by barest inch. Stretching him open, the dull hum of discomfort quickly replaced by the need to get fucked. Eddie wiggled his hips, teasing himself with the ache, how completely full he was, before slamming back to fuck himself over and over again. Tendrils wrapped around his chest, his arms to keep him steady, sheathing his hips, fortifying his thighs. For what, he didn’t know. Then—
Venom thrust forward into him, and the impact forced the breath out of Eddie’s lungs. His body ignited with fire, the fuck of his life fizzling every nerve ending. He would’ve slammed his head into the headboard, but Venom kept him still, safe, focused, while Venom pounded into him over and over again. Eddie cried out with every one, so loudly that a net of black threads stitched his mouth closed. His body sung while Venom fucked him into oblivion, stretching his hole wide, filling every inch of him. That spot inside him, whatever it was… every thrust, every time…
Eddie mumbled against the inky netting, which fell away so he could gasp out: “Harder.”
I’m going to break you.
The bed rattled and thumped with their vigorous fucking. Harder, until the wooden floors creaked. Faster, until the headboard slammed wildly against the wall. A crack formed. The bed groaned under the force—the phone rang.
Anne’s name came up on the screen.
Eddie knocked the phone away, and a black tentacle snatched it out of the air. They wrestled for it, but Venom won, hovering a finger-like extension over—
“Don’t you fucking FaceTime her, goddamnit. I swear to God—please.”
No more secrets. Ever.
“No more secrets. Ever. I promise. Let it go to voicema—Hi, Anne!”
A dark chuckle rolled through Eddie’s brain. Ominous.
“Hi, Eddie. How are you? We haven’t spoken in a while. Just called to check up—”
“Y—yeah, been busy. I, uh—yeah, why are you calling? It’s so laaAAA—“
—the force of Venom’s thrust punched the strength from his bones. He flopped onto the mattress, gasping.
“Eddie? What happened? Are you okay?”
“M’fine. Just—aggh. Stubbed my toe. Listen, gotta go. Doing a project over here.”
“At 2 AM?”
Another hard, bone-shattering thrust.
Eddie slammed the ‘end call’ button and glared over his shoulder. “You fucking asshole.”
Venom was all grinning teeth and mass, rearing back then slamming into him again. And again. Sick and wet inside him, filling him beyond anything he’d ever known. Eddie let his eyes roll back into his head as he was fucked, his body unraveling under the strain, the pleasure, how fucked up this entire thing was. Slippery darkness crept up his neck, around it and squeezed. His breathing shuddered, he gasped—a tongue slithered around the shell of his ear.
The heat, the impossible heat… hard, ravenous fucking…
The tendrils around his balls loosened and Eddie came hard, his whole body arcing with it, shaking. Limbs and fingers and toes like liquid, muscles seizing then melting away completely, until he was nothing but there. He laid there, unable to move, breathing raggedly. Completely sated. Almost asleep when the black mass turned to liquid, sliding along up along his form, to huddle in behind him like a big spoon. Cuddling.
“Go to sleep.”
Venom huffed then settled in the darker reaches of his mind.
Eddie frowned, then shifted enough to peek over his shoulder. “This isn't going to become a regular thing. Let's make that clear right now.”
The dark form only chuckled, like it knew better.