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Summary
What Eddie misses the most is some goddamned privacy.
“Seriously, dude,” he says as he flops onto the couch, “you can’t, like, fuck off somewhere for half an hour?”
“You don’t need half an hour to rub one out,” the voice in his head rumbles with amusement.
Eddie fumes. He can’t argue with that, but that doesn’t mean he can’t pout about it. “Venom, it’s been weeks.”
“Has it?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie just wants some alone time to tickle his figs, but Venom has other ideas.