She Swallowed Something

In the wild, brain slugs hunt primarily by chemoreceptors, and communicate largely by biochemical markers and scent-trails. Human hosts to brain slugs rely heavily on scent and taste. Strong odors like garlic can deter them, though this is not an absolute protection against possible ****.
—Brain Slug Infestation: Cause and Avoidance, Chapter 3

"Garlic?" Mel muttered aloud. "What the hell are they, vampires?"

He couldn't sleep. His erection hadn't gone down. Mel had hoped that the library book would make him drowsy, or at least drown out some of the horniness aroused from the sleek pages of Slug Fucker Monthly. Instead, he'd found himself increasingly irritated at the book, unable to decide for himself how accurate or misleading it was. Which he knew, rationally, was ridiculous. The only other written source he had to go on was a porn magazine.

Yet here he was, terminally horny. Dominated by the part of his anatomy that was least rational.

"Go to sleep," he said to himself. "Just close your eyes. Eventually you'll pass out, and tomorrow will be another day."

Instead, he thought about Jordan. Couldn't help but think of her as Jordan, and not the gelatinous alien slug on her neck, which was somehow bonded into her nervous system and brain. There was garlic in some of the meals Mel had bought, though she hadn't complained yet.

Is that something I should worry about? Mel asked himself. Being a good roommate by not eating a lot of garlic and spicy food? Or does that mean I should eat it, so that one night she doesn't come in here and try to make me join her hive?

The last thought echoed the paranoia of the library book. Mel hadn't seen another brain slug in the apartment. There was no reason to think she was setting him up for anything. The only thing she did around him that had been at all weird was...well, okay, she acted weird a lot of the time, but the incident with his cum-filled tissues stood out in his mind.

Maybe I should do it again? Mel thought. For science.

It was stupid. It was his dick talking. Mel swallowed hard, unable to dislodge the thought. An experiment. He had one data point. What if that was a fluke? What if he had misunderstood what was happening? Yet if he did it again...if the same thing happened...

Thou shalt not do science experiments on your alien roommate, Mel told himself. But...what if the book and the magazine are both right? If brain slugs mostly use smell and taste, and human cum has something that attracts them...

Porn brain thinking. Mel had the tissues laid out on his stomach as he fished out the copy of Slug Fucker Monthly. It was still stealth masturbation. He didn't dare moan as he gripped himself, eyes fixed on an image of a slug girl licking a thick wad of jizz off the floor. Her irises were dilated, huge; head shaved, and the brain slug looked bigger than others. Through its semi-translucent body he could almost see one of her cervical vertebrae.

Mel had never looked that closely at Jordan's neck. He wondered suddenly if he could see through the slug, beneath the skin, to see where it bonded with her body. The thought of that set him to spurt earlier than he intended. Hot white globs struck his stomach and chest, and with a silent curse he began the clean up, carefully using the tissues to wipe up every drop.

The plan—the experiment, Mel lied to himself—was to reproduce the results of last time. Put the tissues in the trash, see if they're still there in the morning. Easy. If they're still there, then the first time was a fluke, a one-off. But at least he could get it out of his head. If they were gone...well, that would tell him something, too. Although Mel wasn't sure where he would go from there.

He padded across the darkness in his bare feet, toward the trash can. Paused, for just a moment, before Jordan's door. Palms suddenly sweaty. There was still time to just flush the cum-filled tissues down the toilet. In his post-climax clarity, he almost did. But he kept walking. Opened the flap, placed the tissues on top.

It would be a long night. Sleep was elusive. Ears focused on every sound in the apartment. In the darkness, Mel felt he could fear the pitter-patter of cockroaches, the distant thump of neighbors, the crackle of electricity down his own spine.

The sound of the shower woke him.

Mel did not drop immediately into his exercises. He tiptoed out of his room. The lid was on the trashcan. He opened it.

The cum-filled tissues were gone.

He retreated back to his room, mind racing. Stretches, push-ups, crunches. Waited until Jordan was finished with her shower and rushed in himself. Shivering with an erotic impulse that he couldn't give a proper name to.

Jordan didn't eat breakfast this morning, which struck Mel as odd. Then again, he still didn't have any breakfast foods, so he skipped the meal entirely, waiting for his lunch at the Cosmic Fill-Up. They left for work together.

Spicy Slug was in the hallway, waiting. Dark eyes placid, calm, no sign of anything happening behind them. Also no sign of Antonio. Jordan's hand found hers, and an electric shiver seemed to go through the other brain slug host. Her eyes widened, lips parted, a touch of color filled her cheeks. Mel noticed that both their slugs seemed somewhat agitated, wiggling those little nubs on what he assumed were their heads.

From behind Jordan, Mel could see as his roommate leaned forward and pressed her lips against the other woman's. Muscles worked in both their mouths for a moment. Breathless, he watched as something passed between them. Spicy Slug's features remained placid, but she swallowed something. Mel could see it clearly.

Then they turned and walked, hand in hand, down the corridor. Mel followed them, not sure what he had just witnessed.