Just another brain slug thing

Brain slugs do not have a word for love. They have a complex biochemical marker for the addictive properties of specific neuropeptides and hormones that the host brain secretes. Oxytocin is a hell of a ****.
—Slug Sutra, Chapter 1

Mel lay on his bed, unable to move. The massive slug crept, incredibly slowly, through the dark. Jordan and Soong's faces side-by-side on its head, sensory tentacles extended from their eye sockets. In the darkness, he rose to full mast. So hard it hurt. Yet he couldn't control it. Arms and legs not responding as the bed creaked under the weight of the mass that pulled itself up. The twin faces lowered toward him, mouths open, twin tongues extended to feed.

The contact of a fever-hot mouth slobbering on his prick woke Mel from the dream. In the darkness, dream and reality merged together. Soong held his glans in her mouth as Jordan stroked. Mel's temples throbbed, his rest interrupted again by the insatiable hunger of their new roommate.

Every two hours. At least that's what Mel figured later. He thought he counted four times that they awoke him in the night. Never letting him sleep long. Every couple of hours, Jordan carried Soong into his room, and they'd get him hard and let her suck until he unloaded again. Mel's cock ached with a deep boner-deep weariness he had never felt before, his urethra a line of fire, his testicles sore in a way he had never experienced.

There had been times when guys had tried to brag about jerking off. Mel had never been able to really wrap his mind around someone who had the unchaperoned time and tissues to jerk off five times in a row, seated in their personal gaming chairs with dedicated internet access on their private computers, complaining about their parents interrupting their fap marathons with offers to see their grandparents or come to dinner. It was like a man dying of thirst listening to a rich asshole drown themselves in Perrier for fun.

Now, Mel experienced the longest, strangest night of his life, a sleep-deprived wet dream where reality and nightmare merged into a long series of climaxes that left him in a state of even deeper exhaustion than before. Once, he thought that they were vampires, and he was ejaculating blood into their eager mouths. Another time, he swore something thin and sharp slid out of Jordan's mouth and down the whole quivering length of his prick, until a sharp pain pierced his balls. Or that he awoke half hard, the imprint of phosphorescent kisses on his swelling shaft, and the very act of getting hard again summoned them to feed.

By the time Mel's bladder insisted it was time he got out of bed, Mel's prick, swaying in the open air, felt unusually swollen and sensitive. He hissed in pain as he peed—no blood, he was happy to see. A glance at the clock on the stove made Mel swear. He had about enough time to shower and get dressed before going to work. Not even time for his daily exercise routine.

There was no way to shower without getting his injured foot wet, so Mel undid the bandage. The cut was ugly—about an inch long, crusty black, the flesh red and swollen around it. No oozing, though. He hissed and rubbed the bar of soap on it, for lack of knowing what else to do, and rinsed and dried it thoroughly.

As he dressed for work, Jordan emerged, naked, hair a-muss. No Soong this time. She moved languidly, and he saw the bags under her eyes. It was a sleepless night for her, too. In her hands was the expired first aid kit that Ha-Yoon had insisted on giving him.

Without word or gesture, she knelt by the bed and opened the kit. Mel watched as she gently applied an antibiotic gel and wrapped it with gauze. She looked up at him, her head about even with his crotch, and Mel involuntarily twitched and clenched. Not that he thought he could squeeze another drop, but—

She got up and left.

Mel shook his head and finished dressing. Out the door without a word, only a glance into the room. Jordan and Soong were asleep on the narrow single bed, on their sides, back to back, but curled away so that the brain slugs didn't touch each other directly. He wondered if they talked to each other while their hosts slept.

He wondered if that was how they dreamed.

The cool air woke him up. The exercise **** heat into his tired body. Gave him time to think.

Weirdly, the nighttime visits didn't bother him like he knew they should. The first time had been unexpected, but pleasurable, even welcome, once Mel figured out what was going on. The repeated visits, however, had been surreal. Like nothing in his experience. Mel wondered if it was something to do with Soong's injury. If maybe something in his semen helped her heal faster. Some vital micronutrient. It gave him a weirdly happy thought to think that might be the case. In fact, he thought it might explain everything about why they'd started swallowing his cum in the first place.

Bobbie and Tomie were on shift tonight. Mel waved at them; the brain slug hosts didn't wave back, just went about their duties without acknowledgment. The ache between Mel's legs had settled into a kind of not-unpleasant soreness, like after a hard run during PE. Not that Mel had been running the last couple of weeks.

Need to get on that, he decided. At least jog. Don't want to get out of shape.

Of course, running meant shoes. Mel's sole pair of sneakers now included one with a hole in the top and blood stains inside and out. Definitely time for a new pair of kicks.

Ha-Yoon was happy to see him. Or at least, she was happy to have a friendly ear as she discussed this party she had been invited to on Friday by a girlfriend.

"Like, friend-who-is-a-girl, or girlfriend?" Mel asked, if only to show he had been listening.

"Just a friend," Ha-Yoon said, and then sighed. "But I think she wants me to join her coven, and they have this whole polycule vibe going on. Like they've done all these rituals naked together, and they seem like they've got their own thing going on, and I don't know whether I want to be a part of it or not."

"I think I understand," Mel said. He didn't elaborate.

It was a quiet shift. Amelia came in for milk and coffee. No random gropers. No brain bat detectives. A mess in the men's room, which required Mel to get out the goggles again to sanitize everything. He wondered if he should take off his shoe and sanitize his wounded foot, but figured that was the lack of sleep talking.

The only thing strange happened just before dawn. A cry went up, outside the store, but loud enough that they could hear it. Tomie and Bobbie immediately turned toward the source of the sound, and Mel saw the great horned brain slugs on their necks shift colors in eerie unison, pink to red to black to green. The cry reminded him a little of the sound Jordan and Soong had made when in distress. He moved to the door and looked around, trying to locate the source, but failed.

Then the cry ended, and they went back to staring placidly ahead, waiting for the next customer or instruction.

Mel shrugged. Just another brain slug thing.