It takes a while for Venom to notice, because it’s not a loud call from Eddie’s body like pain or hunger or overheating. It’s just a mild tenderness in Eddie’s groin, signalled mostly by a slight hitch in his walk every now and again as he shifts his leg so his reproductive sack hangs a little more easily. When Venom explores, they find that there’s a build up of all the fluid and the little worms that Eddie makes for his part in the odd binary reproduction system that humans use. The build up doesn’t seem dangerous at present, but there’s a definite increase compared to when they first joined, and Venom isn’t sure why.
Eddie? they demand. Eddie!
Eddie drags his attention away from the story he’s working on. “What is it, bud?”
Are you going into heat?
“What?” Eddie makes his confused face. “No!”
Or planning to breed?
Eddie’s forehead ruts get even deeper. “Where the hell is this coming from?”
You are making too many of your breeding worms.
Eddie goes tense all over. “Breeding worms?” he says, shrilly enough to make Venom flinch.
Surely Eddie knows he has sex organs? You store them in the organs between your legs, so you can share them to make more humans.
Eddie must figure out what they mean because the tension leaves him all at once and he slumps back against the chair. “Jesus Christ. You mean my balls, the sperm in my balls.” He rubs his neck, which usually means Venom has asked something that humans think shouldn’t be talked about, and his cheeks are starting to flush a tasty red. “Yeah, that’s normal. Men my age pretty much always make them. You don’t have to worry about it. I’m not going into heat, and it doesn’t mean I’m going to knock anyone up. It’s just something my body does. It works itself out.”
Venom considers that. It still doesn’t explain why there are so many now when there weren’t before. But if Eddie doesn’t want to worry about it, there’s an easy enough solution. Can I eat the ones you don’t need?
Eddie stares at them. His cheeks have gone even redder, and there’s an odd tingling starting up in his groin. “You want to eat my sperm?”
Not all of it, they clarify. Just the surplus.
“Just the surplus,” Eddie mutters. But he’s relaxing back even further in his chair, his legs splaying open, and Venom already knows he’s going to say yes before he waves a hand and says, “Sure. Why not? It’s better than snacking on my heart,” which is frankly uncalled for, because they fixed that ages ago.
But they’re too busy to bother making Eddie take it back, as they snake a tendril down into the folds of Eddie’s body and suction up the extra sperm -- delicious, Eddie always tastes so good. He is their favourite, and finding parts of him they can eat without doing harm is the best thing to happen to them all week.
“So, how are you gonna do this?” Eddie asks, and he must be feeling the benefits of their work, because there are more tingles now, at the base of his spine, and his penis feels more tender then usual.
Already done. You taste delicious.
“What?” Eddie says. He sounds insultingly surprised, as though he hasn’t already seen how efficient Venom can be at taking care of him.
Ungrateful! Venom says, and curls up to doze on Eddie’s spleen. Humans can be so much work!
The issue doesn’t come up again until breakfast a few weeks later, when Eddie says, “Hey, uh... do you think you could stop eating my excess sperm for a couple of days?”
Venom gets excited at this. Are you planning to breed?
Venom is disappointed. They want Eddie to spread his genes. Why don’t you want to breed? Is our nest not good enough? Are you hungry?
“For fuck’s sake," Eddie says, all pink in the cheeks with excess blood, "I just wanna rub one out, you know. Reduce some stress. Test the pipes.”
Venom is not impressed by this explanation.Your pipes are fine! I check them all the time!
Eddie groans. “I’m not casting aspersions on your health care regimen, buddy. It’s a human thing. Can you just do this for me, please?”
Fine, they concede grudgingly. They have learned that human things are best endured or Eddie gets grumpy. More grumpy. But I want extra chocolate. If they are going to miss out on two days of their favourite snack just so Eddie can do human things, they deserve more chocolate.
“Done!” Eddie says, and his heart kicks up and his blood floods with happy hormones, so maybe cleaning the pipes really is something he needs to do.
The next morning is the weekend, and Eddie doesn’t get up at the usual time. Instead, he stays in bed once he wakes, running a hand slowly over his belly. Tingles start to pool in his groin and shiver up his spine, and Venom is suspicious. This doesn't seem to be anything to do with pipes, but it's not their usual routine either.
Breakfast? they ask, testing the waters.
“You go and help yourself, buddy. I’ll join you in a sec.”
Venom eyes Eddie for a moment, and then yanks the blankets away from his body. Eddie’s penis is already taut along his thigh, and jerks under their gaze, the tingling feeling intensifying. You are going to clean the pipes, they accuse. Without me!
“Yeah, but it's not that interesting. You don’t have to stay. It’s something I can do on my own.”
No! I want to see.
Eddie swallows, and his penis jerks again, now a rigid line pointing up towards the hand lingering on his belly. “You want to watch?”
Instead of answering, Venom flicks out their tongue and swipes the drop of wet from the tip of Eddie’s penis, savouring the familiar taste.
Eddie’s whole body convulses, and his hand darts down to squeeze his penis. A wave of pleasure races through his bloodstream and washes into Venom. But Eddie freezes up then, staring at them, as though expecting them to leave.
Venom starts to get an inkling that Eddie has been underplaying this whole pipe-cleaning business. They hiss, urging Eddie on.
“God, okay,” Eddie moans, his hand stuttering into motion, sliding up and down his penis, wringing shuddering surges of good feelings from his own body like it’s easy.
Like this is something he knew would happen if he touched himself this way. They watch keenly as Eddie's body moves beneath his hand.
Every time Eddie's eyes flick open and he sees them looking, his penis surges into his grip.
Eddie’s penis is swollen to three times its usual size. It's red with blood and smells like sperm, and they want to lick it, they want to lick it so badly, but Eddie’s hand is in the way, and they don’t want to stop him because every stroke makes the good feelings swell, ramping higher and higher, filling Eddie’s body with a feast of delicious hormones that flows on to them and makes them fizz with anticipation.
Want to lick you! they confess, and snake their tongue down around Eddie's balls, savouring the heat of his skin, the hormone-rich sweat and the faint taste of sperm. They fold the spines on their tongue back, so that they only prick a little and don't catch on Eddie's tender skin.
Eddie takes one look at the spines curling around his balls and bellows. He grabs at their head with his free hand as his body lifts from the bed, his other hand suddenly halting, clenching tight around his penis. The muscles in his abdomen go rigid and then ropes of sperm shoot out of his penis, landing on Venom's plasma, and Eddie’s skin, and the sheets, and even up into Eddie’s hair as Eddie writhes through whatever he’s feeling. A moment later the pleasure hits them like they just ate a hundred brains at once, and their pseudopods all jerk and then liquefy, unable to retain their form. They cling desperately to Eddie as his muscles go lax and he flops back on the bed, puddling on top of his heaving chest and sticky groin.
They both lie there in a stupor, as the hormone soup of Eddie’s blood races through them both.
Eventually Eddie stirs enough to rasp out, “You okay, buddy?”
Venom makes an effort and re-forms their tongue, but then can’t resist sliding it over the sticky residue on Eddie’s skin, lapping him clean.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Eddie says, patting them with a clumsy hand.
After chasing every last gob of Eddie’s release, Venom says, Eddie?
“Hmmm?” is the contented reply.
I like the human way of cleaning the pipes better than my way.
Eddie chuckles. “Yeah? Me too.”
We should do it every day!
“Okay,” Eddie agrees easily.
Twice a day! All the time!
“All the time might bite into your chocolate-eating, don’t you think?”
Better than chocolate!
“Okay, now I’ve heard it all.” Eddie pokes them. “Remind me to show you the Wikipedia entry for the Olds and Milner's rat experiment.” His brain flashes on a picture of dead rats that killed themselves with an overdose of sexual pleasure.
What?! Venom demands, suddenly feeling a lot more alert. Sexual pleasure can kill you? Why didn’t you say! We can never clean your pipes again! No!
Eddie sighs, and yanks them back down against his chest. “You just sexed me, and we’re both fine,” he points out, which Venom has to concede is true. “We have more self-control than rats. So give me a cuddle, and then we’ll go have breakfast, and we can hammer out a schedule for my pipe-cleaning that we’re both happy with.”
Only pussies cuddle, they observe, nestling back into the comfy spot in the crook of Eddie’s neck.
"Heaven forbid," Eddie says, kissing them and falling into a contented doze.