Ink (chapter 2) Eddie/Venom
Eddie and Venom get that new tattoo.
gen
~1,200 words
“You started already?” Eddie squints, watching, Max, the tattoo artist, push steadily on his needle. He’s finished half a letter already, the first deep curve in the word for We, in Venom’s language. “Can’t feel a thing.”
Max cocks an eyebrow. “You’re lucky. Like I said, this is a sensitive spot. Sometimes people pass out when they’re getting inked down here. Bare minimum, you’re gonna need a break.”
“We do not need breaks,” Venom says, adding smugly, “We feel no pain.”
Yeah, but I do, Eddie thinks. At least, I used to. He’s still not entirely used to thinking at Venom instead of talking out loud, but it’s better. People don’t stare at him like they do when he’s talking to himself out on the street. Plus it works, and it feels more intimate.
“We have turned off your pain receptors. All of them.”
All of them? Eddie asks, suddenly offended by the idea. Although it had come in damn handy these last few months, what with all the fighting evil. Turn them back on. Right now.
“Why?” Venom sounds genuinely confused.
Because I need to feel this. It’s important.
“Then this memory will be of pain, when it should not be.”
This is a good kind of pain. I want to feel it.
“Then feel,” Venom says, coiling rapidly around Eddie’s spine, up into his brain stem.
Eddie bites his lip, mouth curving into a smile as a tingling pulse runs through his body, all his nerves unguarded again. The push of the needle’s tip comes into startling clarity, inches away from his groin. He lets out a small gasping sound, clenching his hands into fists, until the tips of his nails dig into the flesh of his palm.
“Change your mind?” Venom asks, at the same time as the artist, who lifts the needle, watching him.
“No. Keep going,” Eddie says. “Please.”
The needle goes back down and Eddie swallows a moan. Venom writhes inside of him, settling in Eddie’s groin.
Eddie can’t tell if his symbiote’s position is making the pain more or less intense, but it doesn’t matter because all of his blood is rushing down and he can feel himself start to harden, remembers where he is and what he’s having done and tries to think of something else-anything else but-
The needle stops. “Okay, break time,” Max says.
“Shit. Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Happens sometimes. Like I said, usually people pass out, but some people....” Max shrugs, standing.
“Can I um-” Eddie’s mouth feels dry, “-can I get like a glass of water or something?”
“Sure. Gimme a sec.” Max pushes the curtain aside and walks out into the main room.
All of Eddie’s nerves are still on edge, a core of heat gathered around the tattoo and lower. He bites his lip, tries every trick he can think of to calm down, but nothing works. “You gotta help me,” he hisses, between his teeth.
“With what?”
“With this-” Eddie points at his crotch. “I can’t be doing this while-”
“Why not?”
Eddie covers his face with his hand and drags it back down in exasperation. “Because it’s impolite.”
“Here’s your water,” Max says, coming back through the curtain.
“Thanks,” Eddie takes the cup gratefully and gulps it down, fighting back the lingering flush of embarrassment. Max leaves the room again, and Eddie breathes in and out, in and out. Can you-with my receptors-can you turn them to low or whatever? Not off, just like-
“Yes.”
And instantly, the last lingering throb of tension vanishes. Eddie breathes an audible sigh of relief. It’s such a drastic change that he feels completely drained, like after a grueling workout.
“Need a few more minutes?” Max asks, poking his head back in.
“I’m fine,” Eddie says, as Venom shifts, settling higher up in his chest.
Max takes his seat again, and a moment later, the needle goes back in, delivering dozens of precision pinpricks. It’s a light, pulsing sensation-not anywhere near as overwhelming as before. Eddie finds himself relaxing, nearly drifting off to sleep.
“Stop!” Venom shouts and a tendril snaps out, grabbing Max’s wrist. The needle clatters to the floor and Max goes pale, staring at Eddie and his new black appendage, stammering, “What-what the hell is that?”
Eddie snaps fully awake, and growls, “No!”
“I’m sorry-whatever it is I did,” Max pleads.
“No, not you-” Eddie concentrates, fights for control, and manages to pull Venom back inside of himself. “We do not attack our tattoo artist!”
“He was doing it wrong!” Venom shouts, his full head bursting from Eddie’s chest on the last word.
Max stares in terror, gasps for air-his eyes roll up and he collapses, landing on his side, hand inches away from the needle.
“This line is wrong!” Venom roars, jaw wide, tongue whipping angrily towards the last downstroke the needle left behind.
“Okay-we can fix it. But not if you scare the crap out of our artist. He’s probably-” Eddie looks at the unconscious man, "-definitely not going to finish the rest of it now.” With a sigh, Eddie slides off the chair, zips up his pants, then crouches down and picks Max up.
“What are you doing?”
Eddie carries Max over to the worn leather couch in the waiting area and lowers him gently onto it, propping his head against the cushioned armrest. Glancing at the door, Eddie considers for a moment, and then locks it, flips the sign to Closed.
“We are not finished here!”
“Yes, we are.” Eddie pulls out his wallet, counts out the right number of twenties and tucks them in Max’s shirt pocket.
“We paid a deposit! He did not finish.”
“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” Eddie grabs his shirt, pulls it on and heads for the back exit.
“No!” Venom lashes out and grabs the needle.
“Drop it,” Eddie says, patience wearing thin. They’ve already ruined Max’s night-probably traumatized him. They’re certainly not going to steal his tools, too.
“We must finish the words.” Venom sounds less angry now and more forlorn, almost heartbroken.
Eddie takes a breath, raises the hem of his shirt. ”What does it say now?”
“It says, “We are joined…”
“That’s fine. We can add the other part another day.”
“It says, 'We are joined, stupid,' because he did the line wrong!”
Eddie snorts a laugh. “Well, that’s not inaccurate.”
“It is supposed to say, 'We are joined, until we are devoured!'” Venom fumes, as Eddie keeps laughing.
“It’s not like anyone else is going to know what it says.”
“We will know!”
Eddie takes hold of Venom’s tendril, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Drop the needle. What, are you-gonna finish it yourself?”
“Yes.”
“No. We’d end up with ink on our internal organs, and you know it.”
Venom drops the needle on the chair, sulking, and retracts. “We would be careful.”
“Yeah, I know.” Venom’s discontent vibrates through Eddie’s insides as he pushes the door open. The night air is cool, and he can smell the ocean on the breeze. “But, actually, I kind of like it like this. Anybody who doesn’t know we’re joined is stupid.”
“Yes, they are.” Venom wraps themselves around Eddie’s shoulders, then spills up his head and down his back, forming a hooded jacket. “Unlike us.”
“That’s right. Couple of geniuses, we are.” Eddie pats himself on the shoulder, and feels Venom warm beneath his touch, the heat traveling down just beneath his waist, into the new words embedded in their skin.