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Venom is plying him open in the back of the cab.
It was a date with someone else, some guy with a dark stubble and a silky grey shirt. It was small talk about the San Fran Giants and drinking wine that he didn’t pay for. It was fun, and pointless, and he had a nice smile. But Eddie didn’t like him. Venom didn’t like him either.
We’re bored. Venom had said halfway through the aperitif. It was the only way he could say he was jealous, because Venom is always so jealous. The man was complimenting Eddie’s eyes, reciting some line of journalism he’d written a while back, stroking at his ego. Too nice. Venom’s tendrils were already playing their lascivious game during the first course, brushing up Eddie’s spine, kneading the dip of his ass. Reminding him who would be fucking him at the end of the night. It was always Venom.
The cab windows are misting up. It’s November, but it’s not just that.
“Ah, fuck.” Eddie hisses into his shoulder. His fingernails are clamped desperately into the leather seat. Jesus Christ. Anything to stop him from palming his crouch, rubbing the fabric and finishing before they even get home. He tries to concentrate on something else; he counts the cars as they whizz past, he stares at the ebbing pink sun as it slips into the ocean, but Venom knows how he likes it. Venom doesn’t say a thing. He lets Eddie rut in silence, rock back into the tendril in his ass as subtle as he can. Venom knows he likes it that way. Just the touch, the silent tease. The deafening arousal of being rock hard in the back of a stranger’s car. He doesn’t have to say a damn thing.
The walk from the cab to the apartment, from the staircase to the key in the door, is painfully long. He bumps into an old lady on the second floor, an agonising extra couple of seconds of straining an apology and shuffling around her. Venom pulses inside of him at every step, Eddie bites his lip until it bleeds.
When the door (stupid, broken) finally closes and the chain is secure, Eddie is shirking off his jacket and dropping his keys and stumbling to the couch straight away. “Come out, get the fuck out here now.” He says.
Of course, Eddie. Venom’s voice is dripping with satisfaction.
The blinds are still up, the lights are on. Eddie doesn’t care. He’s peeled off his t-shirt and he’s bent over the arm of the couch, taken hold of a cushion to bite into later. But Venom takes his time to come out. Because he can, because he knows Eddie likes to be denied. Helpless in wait. Not in control. He begins to seep out of Eddie’s lower back, not humanoid but heavy blackness taking amorphous form, and the weight of him bows down Eddie’s spine. Eddie groans. Just the suggestion of a body above him, behind him, weighing him down, and god he’s so hard.
Eddie wants Venom to take off his pants, to grant his cock some release from the strain; he says it in his head as loud as a thought can be. Rip them off, I don’t care I don’t fucking care. But Venom takes his time with the zipper, takes his time dragging the denim over his ass and down his thighs. His tendrils are hands now, his torso still building itself like magic sand. He feels Eddie’s desperation just as he’ll feel his release, exactly when he gives it to him.
Eddie rocks into the arm of the couch uselessly. “Come on.” He commands, but he is too desperate to sound commanding. He pants into the pillow. Please, please, fuck I need it, he says in Venom’s head. The tendril is still inside of him, but Venom’s made it smaller, barely a finger.
He was too nice. Venom purrs. It’s still in Eddie’s head because he doesn’t have a mouth yet, buzzes inside his ears like a whisper from the inside out. The tendril pulls back, barely a fingertip around his entrance now, and Eddie whimpers. He couldn’t do this to you, could he?
The man had given him a kiss goodbye, just before the cab; he’d kissed his cheek while Venom was inches inside of him already. Eddie was too hot to say anything of courtesy as he ducked into the car. He was far too sweet. Sweet and boring and not Venom.
“N-no.” Eddie breathes. He strangles the pillow in his fists. “Fuck- I need-“
We know, Eddie.
“Get my…fucking-“ Take off my fucking underwear. Eddie can’t vocalise the syllables. Fuck the syllables, fuck talking. Hurry up. The thin fabric, the rocking friction against his cock, it’s enough to make him come already. It’d be such a waste. Please.
Venom slips the tendril out of Eddie’s ass as he slips his underwear down. The air hits like a cold slap. The loss of the tendril hits even colder. Eddie dips his head, pathetically embarrassed, exhausted at the foreplay. He’s spread enough, his cock is leaking onto the floor, he’s arched like a crescent moon. Venom, love, Venom Venom, Venom please.
Nobody sees him like this. Eddie Brock does not whimper and he does not beg, he doesn’t like exhibitionism and he doesn’t go on dates just to be punished for it later. But that is the Eddie that Venom is allowed to see, allowed to spread apart. Anne could never give him enough of this.
The black mass comes to a head and Eddie feels Venom behind him at last. There are legs brushing the backs of his own, thick hands on his waist keeping him up, there is Venom’s dripping teeth, and his milky gaze reading the tattoos on his back. There is his voice.
“I’m here, Eddie.” He says. The words roll up Eddie’s spine like a wet tongue. Eddie can only shiver, feed thoughts into Venom, tell him what he wants; he can’t get it soon enough. Venom has gotten so good at this.
Getting hard is not a problem for Venom, he simply awakens the muscle when it’s needed, moulds it to a shape that Eddie can take. Arousal is new, it’s human impulse, it’s interesting. Turned on, Eddie calls it. Like a lightswitch. Venom gets turned on a lot these days, and they’ve talked about it, watched porn and fucked through it, until Venom understood it better. That it’s not just breeding, but pleasure; it can be torture too. It took them a long time to get to this. Venom knowing what to say, how to pull him apart, when to keep going and when to not, when to be cruel. The possessiveness, though, didn’t need to be taught. Eddie was always his.
He slips a hand from Eddie’s waist. He knows how big Eddie needs it, he grows it in his hand, strokes it for no reason; Eddie strokes himself all the time, Venom likes to watch his face melt when he comes. He wishes he could see his face now. Eddie is hunched over and breathless when Venom finally lines himself up. But he does what they do in the pornos first, he drags it over his ass, over his hole and up to his tailbone, fucking slow into his lower back. Eddie has such a beautiful back.
“Ah…you…god.” Eddie clenches the pillow and Venom watches his shoulder muscles spring to life.
“No one can pull you apart like this, Eddie.”
“Fuck you- I- I’m gonna come.”
“No you won’t.” It’s the truth. Venom can abstain him, can prolong the release as long as he wants. He knows when to be cruel. I won’t let you.
When Venom pushes in, Eddie’s knees shake and shake until they go slack. Venom knows Eddie can take it all, his cock is built for Eddie, like a plaster cast, so he buries it deep in one go. Eddie doesn’t buckle, though, doesn’t move an inch because he can’t. Venom has him in his hands, he has him pinned right to the hilt, between a monster and a couch. Eddie’s mouth hangs open, drooling on the pillow.
“Ah- gah-“ His lips spill garbled nonsense into the fabric, his head praises god and jesus and whatever planet Venom is from. What was the man’s name again? He only remembers the silky shirt, he might’ve had a watch on-
“Don’t need to think, Eddie.” Venom’s voice comes out shuddering too. “Can’t think-“ He pulls back, halfway out, before plunging in again. Less a push, more a punch. Then a punch punch punch. He’s impatient now, chasing the pleasure, ravenous like Eddie. He moves like Eddie’s heartbeat, he is Eddie’s heartbeat. Thump-thump thump-thump- Eddie bites the pillow instead of screaming. He doesn’t have the strength to push back into Venom’s cock, he doesn’t have anything to contribute. He just lets Venom break him apart with that perfect tool made just for him. Are you killing me? Are you eating away at my life force when you fuck me like this? Eddie thinks this, but in truth he doesn’t care. What’s a couple less days, weeks, months alive?
Venom adjusts his hands frantically, trying to hold Eddie better, to fuck him closer, he doesn’t know. Eddie is covered in sweat and he’s slipping and Venom clamps hard on his hip bones, shoots out little fronds to grab at his skin, glue them together as he pounds into him.
Eddie’s dick is aching and stiff, bobbing up against his stomach. Through stuttered breaths, he manages one word of clarity. “Please-“
I need – got to come. The voice in his head is out of breath.
“Don’t - worry - Eddie.”
Touch me – touch my- so hard -
Yes, Eddie. Venom’s hands are occupied so he uses a tendril. It snakes under Eddie’s shaking body, meandering a little, dazed in the pleasure. It gets to Eddie’s cock and spools tight around the base, and Eddie hitches at his touch.
“Gah-“ Move – move – Eddie can’t say anything out loud, just desperate little noises muffled in a pillow. He’s there but he’s not, so ready to spill out but he can’t, and it’s, god, this is Venom’s favourite part. The tendril begins to pump him, sweat and precum acting as lube. It slips up and down his length messily, desperately, and Venom’s completely out of rhythm now. He’s fucking Eddie from two points, his head is confused, his body is two parts, he’s lost in the arousal of them both. Who’s even in control anymore?
Hit me hit me hit me – Eddie broadcasts like an urgent reel of ticker tape. Venom doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t think he can, just gives Eddie a hard smack across the ass with the blunt of his hand. Then another, and another, and he tries to time them with his thrusts but everything is hitting in dissonance. Eddie’s breath hitches and chokes in his throat and Venom knows he’s seconds away-
He digs his fingers into Eddie and they sink under his skin like another tattoo, and Eddie’s voice cracks and shatters in the air as he comes all over the side of the couch. And he gasps, and shakes, and it’s a wave of mindless, rabid pleasure as the tendril pumps him empty and Venom has him deeper than ever as he bottoms out. Eddie’s vision goes spotty and white. There’s nothing to think, no words but vague images and colours and the taste of salt passing back and forth in their heads. Eddie unclenches his fists, takes in gulps of air. And everything is still but the after tremors.
The apartment lights feel too bright suddenly, broken from the haze of lust. It’s just a room again, with chickens sleeping in the little hutch under the desk, smelling of woodchip and feed, and M&Ms and newspaper cuttings splayed on the coffee table. Eddie is slick with sweat and naked and cold, and he’s still got his shoes on and his jeans are looped around his ankles, but he’s lighter than ever. He’s floating and happy and ready to sleep.
The cock inside him slowly pulls out, diminishing back into Venom. He collapses into the arm of the couch.
“C’mere…” He breathes out. “Come back inside, I feel naked.”
“We are naked.”
Eddie groans. “Come back.”
Venom seeps back into Eddie, hugging him from behind and melting through. Back together. Eddie feels warmer. He drags himself onto the couch, over the arm and into the plushness of the seat cushion. Every movement feels tired and achy, scratchy on his bare skin. His ass is slick and throbbing; something hot spills out of it. Is your come just mine? He’ll tuck the thought away, he can’t find the strength to think about it. He really can’t find the strength to get his shoes and pants off, so he simply lies on his stomach, tied at the ankles.
He sighs. “This couch is so fucked,” He says happily. “I don’t know how to wash a couch.”
I can fix the pain, Eddie, if you’d like.
“No, no I’m alright.” The pain is a mark that you were there. He wants to feel Venom tomorrow morning. “I’m really fucking alright.”
Venom purrs in his head, agreeing. That was good.
Eddie turns his head to the side, talking to his back. “Fuck you for the restaurant, though, and the cab.” But there’s no heat in it.
You liked it a lot.
“You liked it a lot, fuckin’ maniac.”
Venom pauses.
Do I like it because you like it?
Eddie knocks the abused pillow onto the floor with both feet, it’s damp with sweat and spit, he’ll wash it tomorrow. “I don’t know. I don’t know how much of you is just me.” He smiles. “We’re very morally grey.”
I don’t like you dating.
“And that’s you.”
But I like the after things, this punishment.
Eddie’s ears are pink like the marks on his ass. “That’s both of us.”
Venom vibrates. Good.
“Good.”
Eddie’s eyes flutter closed, he blinks them open again.
Are we going to bed? Venom guesses.
“I could sleep right here. God I’m tired.”
We can sleep.
“No, I need a shower. Can you walk us there? I don’t wanna move at all.”
Mm, sit tight. Venom takes hold of Eddie from the inside out, folds him under his treacle-black skin like a blanket. The jeans and shoes are engulfed too, maybe eaten up for good, Eddie doesn’t care. The Lethal Protector makes his way to the bathroom.
We’re gonna get another note under the door. Eddie says from inside.
“Yes, I think so.”
They both know it won’t be the last.