Notes: Had a difficult time writing this pairing, at least at first, because I don't feel like I have a handle on Eddie's voice (I need more angst!), but I'm madly in non-platonic love with Symbrock and wanted to put something up. Referring to the symbiote as Venom à la the movie, though the rest is a mix of comics and movie. Venom can camouflage in the comics, this is Eddie's real backstory (not that Dark Origin retcon bilge though), and the symbiote generally has a simpler way of talking that I found more appealing in print.
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
It had been nine days since the Venom symbiote had last eaten brains, and Eddie was starting to feel it.
It wasn't like it was the first time. None of the fever, the frantic rummaging through the garbage, the gorging on trash chicken, the lobster tank sitz bath.
Though Eddie would have preferred all that to whatever the hell this was. This…this was….
Uncomfortable. A burning feeling that reached down into his toes instead of the more familiar gnawing hole in his stomach.
Just eat somebody, Eddie, said Venom, speaking via their telepathic link.
"We've been through this," Eddie whispered back, though this was New York. There was no need to whisper. He could shout at himself and nobody would notice. A passerby's lack of interest in someone shouting at themselves was one way of telling the tourists from the locals, aside from how the tourists were the only pedestrians actually waiting for the light to change before crossing, or stand blocking the sidewalk outside of Grand Central and take photos of the Chrysler Building with their iPads. "They have to deserve it. I can't just go around biting heads off of random people."
Are in New York, Eddie, Venom said dismissively. Chance of a random person deserving it is high.
"There are cops everywhere, too," said Eddie, pushing open the door of a hole-in-the-wall pizza place. "The NYPD doesn't mess around."
Back alley, Eddie.
"There aren't really any alleys in the city. It's not like LA or something."
Not literal, Eddie. The symbiote sounded proud. Metaphors and similes were things it was still learning to grasp. Maybe Port Authority? Bad place, Eddie. Bad people.
Eddie snorted a laugh. "Well, you're not entirely wrong."
Eat MTA. Nobody will miss them.
"Tempting, but…well…no. No, best not."
Why? Only here a few days but already hate them, Eddie.
"Yeah, but…" Eddie gave up. Arguing morality with Venom was about as much use as trying to flag a New York City cab. It had been with great difficulty that Eddie had prevented his other from decapitating the TSA agents at the airport. In all fairness to the symbiote, the agents had been going out of their way to invite a bout of head-biting. Though, in fairness to the agents, they seemed to be trained that way. There was no other logical explanation for the way, no matter the airport, every TSA agent encountered operated with the same sluggish, obstructive obtuseness, radiating that special blender of incompetence and bureaucracy that could only be found in government workers.
"Wait till after I get my story," Eddie had said pacifically as they stepped through the metal detector and were waved off to the side to be patted down, and Venom was holding him to his word. Eddie had wrapped up his interview that morning, and Venom was tightening his grip on his mind.
"Extra sausage," Eddie told the guy behind the counter.
"Coming up," said the kid, then blinked. "Wait, what was that again?"
"Extra sausage," said Eddie, trying to snap at the kid. It wasn't the kid's fault that the three bagels he'd had for breakfast had long worn off. "Make it rare."
The kid scratched at a pimple. "A rare sausage?"
"Just get me the pizza and whatever meat you can fit on top of it."
"Sure. Fine. Whatever." The kid shuffled off towards the register.
No using his brains, said Venom. Wouldn't miss them. Look at his head, Eddie. So round. So fleshy. Skull, so crunchy. Brains hot—
Eddie accepted his change and decided it was safer to eat his pizza outside, eating off the oil-soaked plate like a native who had more important things to do than stand at a crowded counter like a semi-civilized person. Too many people, too close, so close he could almost smell their hair conditioner—
Coconut brains, said Venom, as if that were funny. Why don't we use conditioner?
"Be happy I use shampoo," Eddie said, stuffing the crust in his mouth. The burning feeling was getting worse, making him antsy, almost jumpy. "Street meat?"
Not enough, Eddie. You know that.
"Yeah yeah yeah," he said, accepting a Styrofoam of shwarma from the street vendor. "No, we are not eating him! I used to know his father, dammit! Ugh, just practicing for a play," he told the vendor, who, New Yorker or not, was looking slightly bug-eyed. The usual crazies rarely ranted about cannibalism, confining themselves mostly to balanced, well-thought-out critiques on the government. "How is your dad? Doing well? Great. Yup, yup—" He hurried off.
Great, so now he'd be a bi-coastal loony despite the fact that the bar was set quite high when one sought to be considered a nut in either New York or San Francisco.
That was something he had always appreciated about the two cities: he had always felt different, his entire life, as if he was faking things, somehow. But in the city nobody looked twice at you. Both a good and a bad thing. It had got him down sometimes before he bonded with his other, made him feel alone, even when out with Anne, but more often it was a blessing.
"Venom, why am I so hungry?" he asked as he opened the Styrofoam container. "I'm eating enough to make them pump a horse's stomach, and I'm still starving."
Chocolate. Told you before, Eddie.
"If I see another Hershey bar I swear I'll ralph. I've eaten nothing but chocolate for three days—"
And cream cheese bagels. And falafel. And pizza. And hot dogs. Burrito. Not enough meat. Like meat, Eddie.
"I bought you that steak, remember? Used up the last of my per diem."
Raw meat good for us, Eddie. Not cream cheese bagel. Not even with extra scallions and "lox."
"I really don't need a guy who chows down on heads for fun lecturing me about my eating habits," said Eddie through a mouthful of rice. Venom had been far too disappointed to learn that hot dogs were not made of actual dog. The symbiote had access to Eddie's memories and life experience, but there were too many to comb through for small details of everyday life. "Fine, I'll buy a pack of ground beef."
Will not help.
"So what do you suggest I do, hang around under a bridge and wait for someone to mug someone?"
This is New York—
"Yes, yes, I know, but this not the movies. Which you've seen too many of, I may add."
Eddie could almost feel Venom shrugging. Sleep too much, Eddie. Get bored.
Eddie shoved the rest of his shawarma in his mouth and headed down the street, moving quickly, on edge in a way that had nothing to do with hunger.
Not for food, at any rate.
Eddie felt Venom's goo sliding over the skin of his back, the bottom of its head appear above his collar so it could get a better view of the surging streets without relying on Eddie. Its slick black membrane nuzzled the skin beneath Eddie's ear, tickling him, and Eddie walked faster.
Something bothering you, said the symbiote. It could not read Eddie's in-the-moment thoughts, not in the traditional way, but it took pride in having learned enough about its host to tell its moods. Shall we talk? Like Dr. Phil?
"We shall not talk about it," Eddie said. "Especially not like Dr. Phil."
Personal?
"Do you really know the meaning of the word?"
We have no secrets, Eddie.
Eddie stopped into a Dunkin Donuts and bought a chocolate doughnut and a mocha espresso. The espresso was a mistake, what with his nerves strung as tightly as they were, and smell of the doughnut's chocolate glaze made him want to hurl.
Checkout lady looks tasty.
"Shut up, just for five seconds!"
Mad at us, Eddie?
"I'm not mad at you," said Eddie, reaching inside his collar to scratch Venoms' head. The slick black surface was warm and soft, a bit like stroking wet Play-Doh that had been left out in the sun. "I just feel—weird."
Venom released another tendril of goo under his shirt, sliding from his back over his chest. That man looks shady, Eddie. Follow him.
"Eh, that's just a delivery guy. They all look shady."
Looks juicy.
"Even if he was doing something wrong, I can't exactly eat him in front of five hundred tourists. There's not a lot of privacy here in the city, if you haven't noticed."
Humans obsessed with privacy.
"It's a basic human need."
Die without it?
"Well, want, if not need."
Food is a need.
"Yeah yeah, but brains—"
Water a need. Shelter a need. Sleep a need. Everything else a want.
"What's your point here?"
You should not deny yourself your wants simply because it is not a need, Eddie.
"Well, privacy is out of the question, with you around."
The Venom symbiote sounded almost hurt. Not need of privacy, Eddie. We mean if we don't eat. Which is becoming more a need than a want.
"You mean you'll chow down on my liver?" Eddie made a mental note not to let the symbiote watch Silence of the Lambs. Sweeney Todd was out too, though Venom had developed an endearing fascination with musicals. (Why does the Phantom not just eat Raoul, Eddie? Raoul Boring, Eddie. "I know, buddy, but the Phantom doesn't eat his victims." Waste of good meat, Eddie.)
"Or maybe my eyes or lungs or pancreas," Eddie added, remember the threat they had made during their first outing together.
Would never hurt you, Eddie. Chocolate helping for now. But not as good as brains. Didn't know this before, but we read your body now. See things, Eddie. See what's happening to you. To us.
Even after six months together Eddie struggled to read the symbiote as well as it read him, but he could pick up on its current mixture of curiosity and discomfort.
"Well, I'm going to the Museum of Natural History," he said. He wasn't a big museum guy, that was more Anne's thing, but they had an exhibit on mummies he wanted to see. "If you want to stay here, go ahead."
Venom made a low rumbly sound—yup, it was definitely hurt now—and started to slide back down under his collar, and Eddie quickly reached up to scratch the creature's head again. It leaned into his palm, cat-like. He wasn't mad at it, not really, though it would be fantastic if it stopped rubbing over his skin the way it was.
Because he had figured out what that feeling was. Had for a few days now, but he had been reluctant to put a name to the feeling. Even now he refused to name it, because thinking about it would only make it worse and he would never have the necessary privacy Venom scoffed at to take care of it.
He stood on the subway, trying to block the thought from his mind as they barreled through the tunnels.
Why stand, Eddie? Seats in corner.
"That's where the homeless and other weirdos sit," Eddie replied. "And yeah, I know we're weirdos too, but I mean the other kind."
Venom sounded confused. We help the homeless. You helped Maria. Saw in her memories.
"Yes, but that doesn't mean I want to sit…" Eddie trailed off. Leave it to an amoral black alien goo to make him feel guilty. "Well, it's just a few stops."
Don't like the music, Eddie.
Eddie glanced over his shoulder. The woman next to him was blaring heavy metal from her earbuds, along with about five other people who assumed that wearing earbuds meant that nobody would hear their music.
"You and me both, V."
Eat her, Eddie?
"I'll tell you when we can eat someone, all right? We can't just eat rude people."
Wouldn't be hungry if did.
"True. And we'd be a lot less annoyed."
Annoyed at us, Eddie?
"Just in general. I don't like being back here, to be honest." Eddie hated to admit that, even to himself, but Venom was basically himself and there was no need to hide the fact that setting foot in New York, which should have been like coming home, felt more like the prodigal son returning. It wasn't as if people recognized him, and the Sin Eater debacle had been years ago, but just being back dredged up his past failures.
Maybe that was why he was so testy. Maybe it had nothing to do with the hunger gnawing at his insides.
Venom shifted over his skin, over his thigh this time, and Eddie felt a twinge in his crotch.
Well, so much for that attempt at an alternate explanation.
It took forty-five minutes to get to the 81st Street Station, longer than it should have, but nothing ever ran as scheduled with the subway. Eddie pushed his way off the train, because of course the people in front of the doors couldn't be bothered to step aside (Eat them, Eddie? "Maybe one day, V, maybe one day") and up the stairs that led straight into the lower level of the museum.
Teddy Roosevelt, Eddie! Just like in movie!
Eddie darted a quick look at Roosevelt, smiling briefly before hurrying down the hall towards the cafeteria. More than anything he wanted to find a bathroom and just rub one out like a horny teenager in a high school bathroom who just watched a health video, but that was out of the question.
"Hamburger," he said. "Extra bloody."
"Bloody?"
"I mean…rare. Extra rare."
The man behind the counter shrugged. Eddie sat in the corner and ate, but he could barely get the burger down. His thoughts were elsewhere. On the tentacles wrapping his leg, for example, moving up and down with such tiny, soft movements that he wasn't sure the symbiote was aware of what it was doing.
A thin black tendril poked out his sleeve, pushing a napkin towards him. Museum closing soon, Eddie. Want to see the mummies.
Eddie had trouble concentrating on the exhibit, but Venom was fascinated. Not all races honor their dead, Eddie. Humans special in some ways. Is nice.
"I never thought about it that way. I guess it is."
A docent approached. "The museum will be closing in ten minutes."
Eddie tried to thank him, but the man, having given him a look the kind of look that suggested he had heard about the lobster tank incident and have failed to see the humor in it, was drifting off.
Him, Eddie?
"Naw. Museum docents are all snobs."
You don't like when people treat you that way, Eddie. We feel it. We know.
Eddie shrugged. "I'm used to it. Had it all my life."
Doesn't mean you deserve it, Eddie.
Eddie shrugged again. This was drifting back into Dr. Phil territory. "Let's just get out of here, V. We have an early flight tomorrow, and LaGuardia is hell."
Want to see rest of museum, Eddie. Want to see whale.
Eddie remembered his trip to museum as a child. He didn't remember much, but he his awe at the sight of the whale, and the otherworldly peace of the Hall of Ocean Life, was green in his mind. He had had so little awe and peace as a child. "Can't you just look into my memories?"
Already saw it there, Eddie. Want to see it with you.
"With…" Eddie stopped walking, unsure of how to respond, then continued. "All right."
Will camouflage. Also best for when woolly mammoth charges or loud hairy man in pointy hat comes.
It took Eddie a moment to catch that one. "You know Night at the Museum is just a movie, right?"
But showed on plane. Screen in seat—
"I don't even think the museum has a mammoth, not a full diorama. And nothing comes alive. Heck, the security guards probably even fall asleep themselves."
The symbiote sounded disappointed. Was a lie, Eddie?
Eddie sighed affectionately. "We talked about this, V, remember? After watching ET."
Venom's tentacles tightened around Eddie, sliding around his stomach. The symbiote had taken the ending of ET very hard. Eddie had been unsettled by the strength of the creature's reaction, blaming himself for not being enough for his other, until he convinced himself that no matter how much Venom wanted to stay on Earth, it couldn't have been easy for it to be separated from its own kind.
"Here's the Hall of African Mammals, buddy," he said, changing the subject. "Those big things in middle are elephants. Stuffed, though, so no getting any ideas."
Where's the whale?
"We'll get to the whale, V. I promise. I think it's downstairs. Check out the zebras meanwhile."
The loudspeaker blared to life. "The museum is now closing. Please make your way to the nearest exit."
Eddie ducked behind the elephants and allowed Venom to fully emerge in its full suit form, turning them both invisible. They waited as the security guards marched up and down the halls, rounding up stragglers, then started to move from exhibit to exhibit in the hall, examining the astonishingly lifelike stuffed animals behind the glass, each posed in a natural-looking habitat with a detailed backdrop.
These places are real, Eddie?
Yup, Eddie thought back.
We can go?
Maybe one day, when we've saved up enough money.
Want to see your world, Eddie. Want you to show us, Eddie…Eddie? Venom asked when Eddie didn't respond. Don't want to, Eddie?
I do. It's just…
What Eddie? Can tell us anything.
Nothing, V. Eddie wasn't sure how to put it into words himself.
He had been happy with Anne. She had made him happy.
But, no matter what she said to the contrary, he had never been sure that he had made her happy.
She was a warm, loving person. A gem. A wonderful partner. But…
There had always been something lacking. Not her fault, he'd be the first to admit. Probably the first time "It's not you, it's me" would have been true had he ever had to break up with her.
His mother had died giving birth to him, and his father had withdrawn deep into himself. Nothing Eddie had done had ever been enough to earn more than a grunt of acknowledgment. Not straight As, not athletic trophies, not college scholarships, not prestigious reporting jobs.
And then, when that Sin Eater mess had gone down, his father had cut him off with an alacrity that suggested he had only been waiting for an excuse to break things off with a son whose only true accomplishment in life was to take the woman he loved out of it.
His mother had been his father's entire world. Eddie had been all he'd had left of him, a literal part of her. And yet Eddie could not even begin to fill the void his mother had left behind.
And if he wasn't enough for his father, nowhere close to enough, not even when his father had ever reason to reach out for him, how could ever hope to be enough for anyone else?
We are not just anyone else, Eddie.
Eddie stiffened inside the suit. Since when can you read my thoughts?!
Don't need to, Eddie. Can feel. Felt it a lot when we first met. Venom peeled itself off him, absorbing back into his body, leaving just its head to look at him. Its opalescent leaf-shaped eyes shimmered in the muted lighting, beautiful in their bizarre alien way. Are enough, Eddie. Are more than we've ever had.
Eddie started walking towards the Hall of Ocean Life, Venom bobbing along beside him. The tall, stately stone halls were empty. Eddie preferred them that way. "How would you know? You've only bonded with one other person."
"Not just Maria," said Venom, speaking out loud in its incongruously deep, commanding voice. "Many before her. But even if hadn't, would know. Would know, Eddie.
Eddie jammed his fists in the pockets of his hoodie. "You don't know what you're saying."
"Don't believe me, Eddie?"
"You know how I feel. Better than me, it seems. Why ask?"
Venom's head ducked down beside Eddie, like a kicked dog, and Eddie quickly said, "I didn't mean it that way, V. I'm not myself today. I'm still hungry, though the thought of food makes me sick."
"Not hungry, Eddie. Are…" Venom trailed off.
Eddie pointed, trying to change the subject. "Shhh. A janitor."
Venom enveloped him, camouflaging them as the man pushed past with his cleaning cart. Venom released him, and Eddie half-tiptoed into the new room.
"Rain forest," he said, heading towards the exhibit outside the Hall of Ocean Life. The museum had built a replica of a section of rainforest, complete with trees and fake water and jungle creatures. Eddie leaned on the railing, feeling a sense of tranquility seeping into him from the Venom symbiote. For the first time in days, he allowed himself to relax slightly, transported thousand of miles away, the effect helped by the dim nighttime lighting. From inside the Hall of Ocean Life came the sound of a vacuum, but the low hum was too low to ruin the hushed atmosphere.
"We like it here, Eddie. Like it a lot." Venom hovered beside his head, close enough for him to tilt his head and rest his cheek on it, had he wished. "This world can be beautiful. Not all B trains and checkout people."
"It sure can, V. Guess I just have to be reminded of that sometimes." He glanced over his shoulder, standing still. Two janitors were just leaving the Hall.
"Monkey is fake, right, Eddie? Monkey brain much like human brain, said Animal Planet. Could try and see if—"
"Monkey's fake. And the whale is right there in that room."
Venom turned, unspooling eagerly.
Eddie found himself grinning affectionately. "All right, buddy. I got you. Come." Together they headed into the Hall of Ocean Life.
Eddie hadn't been there in thirty years, but he remembered this being his favorite part of the museum. An awe-inspiring 94-foot blue whale dangled from the ceiling, and ocean videos played on screens ringing the room, plus an enormous one in the center. Someone had forgotten to shut off the videos, and they cast soothing, muted blue light in the darkened room, the ocean noises making a restful backdrop. Lining the walls were replicas of sea creatures, from giant squid to polar bears to seals to dolphins to sharks.
Eddie stopped beneath the blue whale. "Was the whale worth the wait, V?"
Venom rose up towards the whale, pale eyes wide atop its stringy black neck stalk. "We like the whale, Eddie. Really exists?"
Eddie was surprised to feel a flush of warmth at how much his other was enjoying itself. Anne had always been the more put together of the two, the one to show him things, the worldly sophisticate. It felt good to be able to give someone else simple pleasures, share with them, recreate a memory. "They sure do, buddy. We can go whale watching in the bay back home."
"Would like that, Eddie."
They wandered past the various exhibits, Venom floating beside Eddie and eye height. It hadn't seen many animals, as Eddie was wary of taking it to the zoo, and was proud to be able to identify most of them from Animal Planet. Several tendrils curled around Eddie as they walked, gleaming sleekly in the flickering blueish light of the ocean videos.
"Squid real too, Eddie?"
"Everything in here's real, buddy," he said, reaching up to lay a hand on the tangle of tentacle-like goo extending from his shoulder. "We can go to an aquarium if you promise not to eat anything."
"No promises, Eddie. Walrus looks juicy." Venom turned to face Eddie, its usual grin widening, as if it were making a joke. It didn't quite get comedy yet, and had failed to appreciate 1967 The Producers the other night, but it was an intelligent creature and learning fast. It bumped his nose with its face. "Feeling better, Eddie?"
"A bit. Till you reminded me." Eddie lay down on one of the benches set directly in front of the enormous central screen, one knee bent, hands folded on his chest. "We should go," he said, making no move get up. "Need to be up early tomorrow."
Venom bobbed above him, gazing down at him with its expression even more inscrutable than usual. Pale light gleamed off its rows of fangs. Eddie wished he hadn't lain down, but to get up now would alert the symbiote to the fact that there was something odd about how they were positioned, prompt it to dig inside his memories for an explanation of why it made him shift his hips and swallow.
He closed his eyes and thought of the tapes Mrs. Chen's cousin had sold him, tried to clear his mind, soak in the ocean-deep peace of the room, stop his heart from pounding, remember that it was an alien goo monster that was bent over him, not…well, not something that was…well, female and human.
When Venom spoke again, it was in Eddie's head, still deep but far more intimate than speaking aloud for anyone to hear.
Can help, Eddie.
Eddie opened his eyes. "With what?"
Haven't had brains we need, so…body gets… Venom coiled its neck stalk into a curlicue, the symbiote equivalent of squirming. Will release chemicals need. Only temporary. But will feel better. Can make you feel better till get brains, Eddie.
Eddie sat up in alarm, but one of Venom's tendrils pushed him back down, very gently.
Our fault you're like this, Eddie. Want to help. Want—want to be enough for you, Eddie.
Perhaps it was that turn of phrase that made Eddie lie still as a thin black tentacle fumbled with the zipper on his jeans, tugged at his hoodie. His hoodie was in a heap on the floor before Eddie came to his senses.
"Wait, Venom, stop!" he said, grabbing at his jeans to keep them from following his hoodie to the floor. "This isn't—isn't—"
Venom came down to stare into Eddie's face. It was coming out of Eddie's stomach now, thick shiny black stalks growing from his skin. Isn't what, Eddie?
"I was going to say normal, but nothing about us is normal, is it? I guess I—" He stopped, taking a deep breath. "This is the kind of thing I used to write about for the Fact Sheet. 'Bigfoot Spotted At Local Krueger's.' 'Aliens Laid Eggs In My Chest in Nevada Desert'—"
No eggs, Eddie. Venom moved back. Eddie could sense its hurt through their bond. Don't want to harm Eddie. If you don't think we can help—
"I didn't mean it that way—I was just using that as an example of the tabloid trash we printed—"
Thought we agree were weird, Eddie. Weird together. If you don't—
"I swear I didn't mean it that way. But sharing a body is one thing, V. This—this would be crossing…more than a line. It's…"
This or brains, Eddie. Can't control ourselves much longer. Might bite head off nice concierge—
"Concierge? Our motel barely has toilet paper."
Venom moved away, starting to shrink back into Eddie, and Eddie reached out to lay his hand on its head.
"Wait."
Eddie?
"I'll just—I'll just do it myself, okay? That will release the same chemicals, won't it?"
Yourself?
"I haven't since we've been together, but…if you go inside me totally, I can pretend that…"
Privacy?
"Yes, V. Privacy."
Venom nodded and retracted fully into his chest.
Eddie took a deep breath, suddenly nervous, and looked around. The room was empty, but he felt too exposed, lying on the bench like that. He slid down so that he faced the screen with his back to the rows of benches and slid his hand into his unzipped jeans.
He had expected his cock to be at least half-hard, going by is increasing desperation, but it was as limp as the burrito he'd eaten yesterday. He rubbed it experimentally, and it felt good, but nothing happened.
Something wrong, Eddie?
He winced. "I feel too exposed here, and my hand is dry, and having you talk isn't helping. I'll try back at the hotel."
No, Eddie! A group of black tendrils were growing out of his arm, thickening, binding together to form a clawed black hand. Can't wait. Need it now.
"Venom, what are you—"
The hand plunged down inside his boxers, brushing his cock with its slippery warmth, and a jolt of pleasure shot through his groin. He felt himself hardening as Venom pumped him up and down, squeezing gently and allowing one thin slippery tendril to stroke his balls.
Dammit, it had seen his memories, of course. Knew exactly what to do. Known exactly what he'd been trying to hide from him.
Eddie rested his elbows on the bench behind him, gripping the rim. "V—" he managed to get out, "you have to—stop—"
Venom's hand stopped moving. Don't like, Eddie?
"You can't just—do that, Venom. Not on Earth. You have to—to ask. Listen. Not just—grab."
Venom extended its head out in front of him, upping the Fact Sheet factor by fifty. Can feel what you feel, Eddie. You want more.
"Still. You have to ask."
We are sorry, Eddie. Didn't know.
"I know, buddy." Eddie swallowed hard, aching for Venom's renewed touch but trying to keep his voice steady. "Just let me try it again—"
Don't think you can, Eddie. Not while we're bonded. We—can't help it, Eddie. Are sorry. Will make it up to you. Will help release the chemicals, more than you ever had, Eddie. Make you happy, Eddie. Make you better. Longer between brains.
Eddie screwed his eyes shut.
Eddie? Are trembling, Eddie.
"All right," he said.
Yes, Eddie?
"Yes," he said, his voice barely audible.
Allowed to touch you, Eddie?
Please! said Eddie inside his head, because to hear himself say that out loud would be—would be—
Venom's goo shot out in every direction, thick black tentacles that lifted him and set him down on the carpet with a mixture of gentleness and eager roughness, making his rock-hard cock bob in a way that made him groan. The tentacles surrounded him, tugging off his jeans and boxers so that he lay there naked save for his necklace and thick cuff of beaded bracelets.
Is okay, Eddie? All right, Eddie? Why make that noise, Eddie?
It's…pleasure, not pain.
We can touch you?
V, just do what you want! he said, because his hands were pinned to the carpet and if something didn't touch his cock in the next three seconds he was going to fall apart completely. Fuck me!
And what means "fu—"
"Just do it!" he managed.
Venom ducked its head and grinned wider.
"You're not funny!"
Venom tilted its head coyly and began operations again with its hand. It didn't produce runny goop, but its hand was smooth and slippery and warm, smearing the dribbling precum up and down the thick veiny shaft.
It squeezed tighter, and Eddie cried out.
"Keep going!" he got out when the symbiote stopped. "Don't stop! Don't stop till I tell you!"
You…like the hurt, Eddie?
Eddie moaned in response.
A whiplike tendril shot out of the central stalk and wrapped itself around his throat, tight enough to be felt when he swallowed. He moaned again, and the symbiote wrapped another dozen tentacles around him, pinning his entire body to the carpet like something out of Gulliver's Travels.
The pressure on his balls tightened, several other tendrils moving to stroke in the insides of his thighs, tracing the tattoos on his chest, and Venom's head came down in front of his cock, clawed black hand still pumping.
Want to taste you, Eddie, it said, and extended its long pink tongue towards Eddie's cock. The tip dug into the slit on top, licking at the pearly beads of precum. Taste good, Eddie. It let go of his cock with his hand, moving to grip his balls, and assaulted his cock with its monstrous prehensile tongue, lapping it like a cat scraping meat off a bone with its tongue.
Eddie cried out, the sound echoing through the empty chamber.
Loud, Eddie. People will come. Without stopping its ministrations, a fat tentacle unspooled itself and hovered in front of Eddie's mouth, touching his lips, warm and glistening. Can't have that, Eddie.
The tentacle pushed inside deep inside his mouth, down into his throat, plugging it more surely than a ball gag or the like. Eddie gagged, choking, but he didn't need to breathe, thanks to the symbiote, and all the filthy gagging sound did was accelerate he pressure building in his groin.
He came with a gargled, choking cry as the tongue tightened around his cock, the tentacle reaching further into his throat, the tendrils caressing his body moving faster. Six months' worth of cum spattered over his stomach, staining himself with dirty white. His entire body spasmed, jerking in the tentacles bonds, the feel of them keeping him down making him come harder.
Venom kept on pumping him through his orgasm, the tentacle inside his throat rippling, as if Venom's goo was contracting along with his own muscles. He could feel Venom's pleasure, a mirror of his, flood him just as he was coming down from his own, and he thought he might pass out.
Good, Eddie?
Venom extended its tongue, licking his stomach clean, and removed the tentacle from Eddie's mouth, leaving behind a trail of saliva.
Tastes almost as good as brains, Eddie.
Eddie released a shaky breath. "Keep saying things like that and I'm going to come again." His voice was rough, each word an effort.
Good. Not finished. Not enough.
"Can't, not right away—"
Can fix that. Can adjust your body. Venom's tentacles tightened around Eddie's chest, the one around his throat still firmly in place. Want that, Eddie?
Eddie tried to nod, but he couldn't move his head. The idea of not being able to move still excited him. He was built like a prizefighter, yes, was but that was part of the excitement. All his life he had striven to be the best, and failed mightily; it was a relief to give up that control to someone else, let them be responsible for any successes and failures for once.
Anne had understood, if not completely; but there was only so much she could do, so much he was willing to ask of her.
Venom, though—Venom was a part of him. Was inside him. Knew exactly what to do. And had the physical means to accomplish it.
Told you, Eddie, said Venom as Eddie's cock began to harden again. The main screen had shut off, leaving them lit only by the distant ring of smaller screens, each showing a different scene of underwater life. Together with the floating whale and blue carpet, Eddie could pretend that he and Venom were deep underwater, down where light only faintly reached, away from others' judging eyes and prying questions and long memories.
Venom flipped him over on all fours, keeping him steady by means of dozens of tentacles that were as strong as iron but soft and warm. He felt two enormous hands grip his hips, the claws pricking his skin in a way that made him feel roughly handled in the best way, and fat slick tentacle reached snaked around in front of him slipped down into his throat.
Eddie moaned, and the symbiote gave a shiver around him, as if taking pleasure in the vibrations.
Another tentacle, forming a third hand, wrapped around his cock, and two thin slippery tendrils reached up to brush his nipples.
No noise, Eddie, said Venom when Eddie gave a muffled gasp. The tentacle in his mouth expanded slightly. Can't have people come. No sound!
Eddie groaned at the symbiote's order, unable to help himself, and the tentacle around his throat tightened, leash-like. The thought of wearing a choke chain, and liking it, filled him with shame, and at the feel of the heat prickling his face he felt his slowly hardening cock spring to sudden attention, straining so hard against Venom's hand that it was a wonder the skin didn't split at the sudden engorgement.
A good boy, Eddie, said Venom, and two tentacles pried apart his ass cheeks so that a third could squeeze itself inside.
It was thicker and hotter than the one in his mouth, pushing Eddie forward as it forced its way inside him, and Eddie gagged as the mouth tentacle got pushed in deeper at the sudden forward motion. His entire body clenched at the intrusion, and the shame he felt deepened.
First time, Eddie? Even so, why shame? Pain? You like the pain, Eddie.
My—my father—if he knew—one more reason to—
Won't know. Think we understand privacy.
I—this—I'm not—gay—this isn't—
Am not male, Eddie.
"I know, but—I'm…I don't think my priest would exactly…"
Need to relax, Eddie. We can open you physically, but can't make your mind accept it. Understand, Eddie?
I—I just guess I have more issues about this stuff than I thought.
That why took so long to try?
What do you mean?
Been wanting for days. We know you have. But you didn't even try. Because of us. Because we would be there with you.
Eddie slid his tongue over the tentacle in his mouth, feeling the slight shift in the one in his ass as he did so. A tentacle lay coiled beneath his dripping cock, as if Venom wanted to catch every drop.
I don't know, he thought, but if you don't fuck me raw, up the ass or down the throat or whatever the hell you want, right now, then I swear I'll—
A twinge of amusement. Will what, Eddie?
Damn you, V—
Eddie began to suck the tentacle in earnest, digging his teeth into the thick membrane, contracting his throat, and Venom caved, thrusting into his ass like a wild thing in the mating season.
It dug its tentacles into Eddie's hair, pulling his head back at an uncomfortably sharp angle, choke chain digging into his Adam's apple, and Eddie—
Eddie loved it. He writhed franticly, desperately trying to spear himself on Venom's tentacle in his rear, but Venom held him almost completely immobile, taking pleasure as he struggled inside its web of tentacles. Tears streamed down Eddie's face as he gagged on the mouth tentacle, felt the one in his ass pull out slowly, so slowly, a dozen smaller tendrils tickling his rim, his balls, the base of his cock—
He screamed around the tentacle in his throat, and Venom slammed his chest to the floor in punishment for having disobeyed its command to remain silent, forcing his muscular ass in the air like a the wolf in heat presenting itself, and began to fuck him in earnest, forming most of its humanoid form so it could snap itself forward into Eddie's hole, the a tendril extending from the cock-like tentacle and forming a ring around his prostate, squeezing it like a stress ball.
Eddie sucked Venom deeper into himself from both ends, digging his nails into the carpet and grinding his cock into the rough nap. The burn in his cock mixed with the sparks of agonizing pleasure in his ass to rob him of almost all coherent thought except Let me come, Venom, let me come, let me come—
Venom lifted him up from the carpet so it could reach his cock better, and jerked it so hard he would have shrieked had there not been a swollen tentacle in his mouth, cutting off his air.
As he did have a swollen tentacle in his mouth, he instead came so had he saw spots. Venom milked his cock as it squirted over the carpet, continuing to thrust deeply into his ass as it contracted around his cock. It felt the same pleasure he did, and he was filled with the newness of the sensation for the creature, how overwhelming it all was to his other, and gave a whimper as the tentacle slipped out of his mouth.
Venom lay Eddie down on the carpet, setting his head on its lap.
Eddie? it asked as he lay there limply, breathing hard. He didn't have to breathe anymore, not while bonded with his other, but nobody had told that to his medulla.
"Eddie?" Venom asked again, speaking out loud this time, as if wanting to make sure Eddie heard. Concern vibrated through its deep voice. It lay one hand on Eddie's chest. "Eddie? Not moving, Eddie."
I'm fine.
"Don't look fine."
Too much.
"We are sorry. All we know is from memories of hosts. If we did wrong—"
Too much is good sometimes. Eddie turned his head, burrowing into Venom's soft warm lap, luxuriating in the afterglow.
Venom stroked Eddie's hair, claws touching his scalp. "Are beautiful, Eddie."
You—you too. I mean—Eddie opened his eyes, looking up at Venom's mother-of-pearl eyes. "I mean, you are too, V."
"First are first symbiote to eat lox, now first symbiote to make love."
Eddie blinked. "Make—"
Thought you knew, Eddie, it said. The symbiote had completely retracted back into him, save the black goo beneath his head, as if afraid of his response. Eddie—?
"I'm…I'm here. I'm here, V."
Happy, Eddie?
Eddie closed his eyes. "Yes," he said, taking a deep breath. The soft lights the screens flickered across his eyelids. They were still at the bottom of an ocean together, but, he suddenly realized, that was exactly where he wanted to be.
"Yes," he repeated. "I think so."
He felt something coming out of his forearm, and opened his eyes to watch Venom's disembodied black hand form above his own and hover there hesitantly.
He reached up to take it.
Notes: Perhaps my first fic where I don't have to put some PSA about how messed up the character's actions are and how you should not model your behavior on it. Not sure what that says about me, given that it's stuffed with references to cannibalism and tentacle sex, but hey, at least it's consensual. Well, not the cannibalism, but you get it.
I'm at witchfire24 on Tumblr - much Symbrock dwells there
Update: I really want to write a sequel – anything specific anyone wants to see?
Feed me with your comments : )