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The crazy thing is, it feels like a natural progression; and nothing about this is natural.
It is not natural to have an alien parasite - sorry, symbiote - possess your body and eat human heads. It is not natural to have a voice in your head that you talk to every waking moment. It is not natural to lose all sense of privacy, to feel the lines of self blurred with another - and not feel the slightest bit bothered by it. It is not natural to be easily talked into allowing your bodymate to take control of your body to eat another human being in a way that seems reasonable, because you care about him and want him to get what he wants and not be hungry. It is not natural to have half a body sprout from your back, grow arms, and embrace you because he senses that you’re missing your old girlfriend.
But for Eddie, it all feels like it couldn’t have been any other way. Like maybe he was always meant to play host to a violent, grumpy, perpetually starving alien who was also meant to find his way to Earth and to Eddie. Like maybe something in the universe designed them for each other, like Venom was supposed to be his most trusted, most intimate partner and that they were not meant to exist in any way but fully, physically, and inextricably enveloped in one another.
And maybe it’s natural and maybe it’s not, and maybe it’s good for him and maybe it’s wildly unhealthy, but Eddie can’t deny it feels like a literal inevitability. Not that he would have it any other way.
Pressed against a wall, Venom framing his torso with his own, arms holding firm to his wrists on either side of his head as an abnormally long tongue traces the shell of his ear, Eddie feels like it could be nothing but natural.
“Eddie,” he whispers in that low gravel, sending a shiver right down Eddie’s spine to the point of connection between him and Venom’s manifested form.
“God,” Eddie chokes out.
“No.” Venom teases. “But that is still preferable to ‘parasite.’” and Eddie has to huff a laugh even though his lungs don’t seem to be quite functioning properly.
Venom’s hands leave his wrists, but not before a warning squeeze, telling them to stay put. They travel down his sides, exploring, feeling up the body he considers to be his own, and at the same time, something far more precious.
Eddie feels a nip at his shoulder, and he can’t suppress his moan.
“You always feel your most excited when we are in danger, when I take control. Pulse races,” Venom says into his back, teeth dragging lightly, implicating the potential of their damage, but not breaking skin. “You feel the same now.”
“Yes, yes, yes.” Eddie admits in a rush, too fast so none of his words can break off into a whimper as Venom’s hands grab hold of his hips firm enough to bruise.
“Tell us what you want, Eddie.”
“Oh you fucker, you know.” Eddie complains, embarrassed.
“We get flashes, tastes of what Eddie likes. We need to know what to do. What is...okay.”
There is hesitation in Venom’s tone, a hesitation Eddie would not have expected of the symbiote. “Anything,” Eddie reassures. “I’m yours. How about you take me?” he suggests.
Venom purrs, seemingly gotten all the permission he needs. He produces tendrils from his own back, which snake down and rope together, forming the rest of his body at his waist. Eddie can feel the moment Venom disconnects from him with a sticky slurp, and finds balance on his own two feet instead.
He uses his new independence to take further control of Eddie’s body, dragging his ass towards him and pressing close, draping over his back. At every point of contact, Venom seeps just past his skin a little, so they are both themselves, separate, but still joined, still them. Eddie feels like he can’t breathe.
They are cheek to cheek, and Venom does not hesitate to extend his tongue to prod inside Eddie’s open and panting mouth, exploring and dragging pleasantly with his own.
His hands have loosened, and begin to tug at his sweatpants instead. Eddie can’t agree with that change of motion enough. It’s peculiar to feel Venom outside of him, and something about it has him just longing to feel Venom as thoroughly as he can, as though Venom touching as much of his skin as possible will fix the slightly nagging empty space in his head and in his chest where Venom likes to curl up.
Sensing Eddie’s anxiousness to rejoin, Venom mumbles a consoling “Patience, Eddie. We will get what we want.”
Hearing Venom’s voice in his ears and not just in his head always is a treat, and Eddie shivers again and he steps out of his goddamn sweatpants.
Finally, finally Venom is connected with him entirely, meshing together everywhere behind him there is skin, hands trailing up and down the front of his torso in a reminder of everywhere he isn’t.
Eddie bites back another whine, another impatient thought to command Venom inside himself. The pulse of desire must be sharp, because Venom catches it through their partial joining.
“That is my intent.” Venom observes, amused, and Eddie suddenly feels sour that Venom sounds so collected when he is already feeling wrecked to desperation by a little bit of touch.
That must also come on strong, because Venom growls, roughly shoving Eddie back into the wall as far as he can, body melding into him a bit more, one hand roughly tangling in his hair to control his head and drag it back towards his mouth and he speaks into his ear, “Trust me, Eddie; you have dragged out carnalities in me that I have to suppress for your own sake. I hunger.”
Eddie’s mouth goes dry, and his mind whirls to a stop. All he can manage is an echo of please, please don’t suppress it, give it to me, please.
Venom rumbles with a deep satisfaction, emulating a laugh. His hand not in Eddie’s hair reaches past his waist, and a single finger tests a dip into his entrance.
Eddie shoves himself back onto it in response. “ Venom, please.” Any shame he might have felt in asking is long gone. He needs this.
Eddie can’t sense Venom’s internal response, but he can feel him pick up his pace instantaneously, shoving in him more roughly, and he would have felt a little pleased at discovering one of the symbiote’s buttons if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with catching his breath and feeling amazing .
Venom de-solidifies some of the external part of his finger, skin liquefying to slick his own way so the glide in is smooth. A second finger goes in to join the first, jabbing deep into him, silkily dragging against his walls, searching for the spot in him that ached to be reached. When he finds it, Venom presses , and Eddie lets out a wrecked moan, hand landing flat on the wall with a sharp slap.
Eddie’s pleasure is intense, almost doubled because it is Venom, and Venom feels it too, and it is feeding back into Eddie, and they are not Eddie and Venom, they are we. But Eddie, through the haze, knows there is more, that they are not together enough.
Venom withdraws his hand, and Eddie wants to cry. He bites his tongue to keep it in as Venom lines himself up, and then oh, god…
It is so close, almost the same, but better. Venom is in him, but not like how he always is, and it feels so good, so right, like it was meant to be like this.
It's slick, just like his fingers, and Eddie feels Venom filling out further as his body adjusts to his presence. The slight burn of the stretch, the deep press and the wet feeling, it is thicker and stronger and more possessing than before.
He is filled by Venom, and he belongs to him entirely, and Venom is his, giving him everything he needs. Venom rocks him backwards easily, lifting him off his feet with massive hands bracing his thighs, sweetly pressing in and out to draw the tears and guttural cries from him.
His arms reach over his head, grasping until he finds Venom’s neck, tracing the curve of it to draw his head forwards, over his shoulder, to steal a kiss. Venom fucks into his mouth again with his tongue, matching the languid pace of his hips.
Venom is outside of him and inside of him, and Eddie is empty and full all at once, and it’s too much. Venom’s hand wraps around him and it’s all he needs to spill over the edge, arching away from Venom as much as his body cries out to retain his contact.
Venom melts into him as he comes, seeping into his skin as he dribbles out of him, replacing the fullness Eddie was just feeling with a different kind, and Eddie descends with a new sense of being occupied, and it’s all kinds of right.
He’s breathless and sated, and Venom is purring beneath his skin with a similar satisfaction.
It’s indescribable, irreplaceable, and Eddie knows instantly he is ruined from anything else, ever again. He knows this must have been inevitable, must have been by design, because nothing else would have fit the way this does, and he cannot imagine never experiencing this.
Venom hums in agreement, and Eddie smiles to himself. There could have been nothing more natural.