Work Text:
Venom was hiding. Smaller than Eddie had previously thought possible, slinking underneath his skin, buzzing quieter than a whisper. His presence was minute, confined and sliding around Eddie's insides, around organs he couldn't name like a snakeskin might cling onto its body-- hesitant to leave, pressed tightly against it nonetheless. It was odd. He felt the urge to reach back, stroke the missing inky tendrils poised off of his neck in a pacifying manner, caress their missing cheek as they swirled tighter against his larynx in response, twisting pleasantly from his collarbones, through his chest, down and down, a warm vibration that sunk into his every moment-- if only. It was usually as if they were completely bonded; no Eddie and no Venom. Just the same entity.
So this was new-- it was odd. He felt lonely. No Venom softly curling around his scarred fingers-- gently, of course, so, so gently with Eddie, only with Eddie-- or hissing possessively against the fleshy dip of his ear, all baritone and husk and contentedness. Like there was nothing that could ever separate them.
It wasn't even-- wasn't as if Venom was teasing him. In his-- their-- culmination of organs, softly circling the liver and spleen all the way up to the heart, barely touching, but with a darker undertone. A sharp, stark tooth might've grazed the pumping vessel. That was different, gratifying-- vicious implications and balmy shivers, constant surprise yet knowing what would conspire. What would conspire.
Eddie was fucking unnerved.
Which, to be fair, might not seem very appropriate compared to his now-usual daily walks out into the park, cap low over his head with a pocket-full of bird seeds and thin, manila rope. The latter acting as a safeguard; he'd gotten somewhat used to Venom's thirst for live culprits, but couldn't handle grappling a struggling, squawking one. The rope was useful. Venom said nothing about it.
But that was nothing compared to this-- this fucking fear being realized of absolute solitude. At least Venom was with him in the park, chuckling deeply and whispering directions into the curve of his ear. They were always together, always, never a choice in the matter. Even when they disagreed on the effects of beer on their health, or the state of cleanliness of the kitchen counters, it was always with the other. He hadn't considered what would happen if-- well, if--
Venom sulked.
Eddie let out a breath, slowly and deliberately. Sulking, at least, was something he could feel. They could feel. He absentmindedly let his hand rest across the distinct lines and planes of his stomach as if he might connect with Venom even further.
Their minds were still connected; they were bonded. They could revel in that. But-- but-- they were so unused to the distance between their consciences, a run and a leap's away from even nearing proximity. Venom was abnormally silent, compacted and belittled to what felt like the equivalent of a few tendrils the length and width of their pinky finger. Moving even more quietly, brooding around, never even approaching their skin.
Eddie paused and closed their eyes. He adjusted their legs against the couch, searched in their bond's link for anything. There was nothing. He had no clue why Venom had suddenly disappeared, one moment a harsh tongue against his stubbled cheek, chuckling and playing, then the next subdued and gone. Absolutely-fucking-gone. Nothing had changed-- to his knowledge-- and he so desperately wanted that pronoun to become they.
Tentatively, he stroked against the spot he felt Venom most prominent: the little juncture between his first couple of ribs on the left side, a place where Venom often proclaimed was the best view (subject to both their beautiful heartbeat and crest of robust organs). Against the pad of his finger, he felt a tiny pulse in response. Eddie let a little grin worm onto his lips. Trying once more, he soothed the spot tenderly, awaiting a small pulse. It was faint, but there.
"Venom, baby? Are we doing alright?"
He barely felt a whisper of movement.
"It's alright if we don't want to come out. It's just-- just, I want to help."
Maybe there was a hum. Maybe he imagined it.
"Are we good? Is-- I'm not sure what this is about, darling," Eddie crooned, "but I'll support you with whatever is happening. Just, please, give a response, or-- talk. Talk to me."
Eddie.
"Yes-- Eddie. Eddie. I'm here."
Venom prodded around his ribs, twisted around them gently, grew a bit longer. Spread a suction of warmth into the beating, pulsating veins. They hesitated, ducking into the hollower areas and curling up, contemplating for several seconds before feebly answering.
Something is coming.
Eddie sucked in a tight breath, let it flow down his windpipe (or whatever that shit was called, anyway), and fill up his lungs, snug next to the steadily-but-slowly-expanding form of Venom. He tried to concentrate on the outside world, which was kind of difficult considering his apartment's location. The most he ever heard over the rushing of cars was a broken catcall from a crackhead or a dull, shattering crash of a car's front window.
"Okay, baby, what exactly is coming?"
Venom stayed silent.
"'Cause if you're staying inside, all's I've got to defend myself's a frozen bag of tater tots and a rough stick of wood that's probably from the broken chair--"
No. Not like that.
Venom pricked his skin like inward goosebumps, drawing the hairs closer to be pressed against the epidermis.
Eddie placatingly smoothed his fingers against their ribs, thinking hard. Venom had never been this frightened before, never too afraid to face an opposing force, even when the odds were 'pretty much zero' and both of their lives were on the dealing table. No, he'd given up every last chip, bet everything he had for a race he'd barely known, and now? Eddie could feel distant waves of terror, purposely stowed away from him in the very furthest recess of Venom's mind. A secret.
He almost felt affronted but chose to ignore that. If Venom was tentative, then, hell, he should be too.
"I'm gonna need more than that. Is it another sym--"
Thunder rolled against the city, unabashed and consuming, striking in quick, legged branches of lightning that lit up the dilapidated apartment through the blue-ish-black curtains. It combatted the otherwise unnoticeable rain, loud and guzzling--
The rain. The rain that Eddie hadn't noticed.
And as Venom ran freezer-cold, icy and briefly paralyzed before abruptly returning to his stealthy, minuscule form, Eddie knew. His heart skipped around, his hands tightened, he felt a rush of intense something, whether it be anger or guilt or empathy, or--
Because Venom was obviously hurting, scared out of his wits due to something he'd likely never experienced. Of course not. Thunderstorms were an Earth-thing, probably not a space-thing, definitely not a Venom-thing, and… Eddie hadn't had a clue. To him, it was such an inconsequential thing that he'd barely given it a thought, definitely not even considered it to be the reason that Venom had shrunken and squirmed around him like a child, witless. His poor darling. No matter the infectious, wretched suggestions Venom often rustled into the padded cartilage of his ear, or the involuntary, hungry flicks of his hand when a particularly peppy dog would cross the street, or even-- even everything, when it came down to simple actions like these, Eddie was grounded. He could lecture Venom on the fine distinction between maiming and eating criminals another time, but when Venom was hurting--
Damn, if only he could physically fight the weather.
"Venom. Baby. I get it," Eddie coaxed, trying to send as many amicable thoughts as he could over their bond, "It's okay. It's perfectly fine. You can stay in, skirt about, rumble around by my heart-- it's thunder, baby. It's called thunder. It's fine. Thunderstorms are normal on Earth. It's the way that the rain, uh, comes down sometimes. The thunder is how we know when lightning is striking near us."
He kept talking, low and murmuring as best he could to placate Venom.
"The clouds in the sky fill up with water that's evaporated from the, uh, water places below… Like, the lakes and oceans and pools, and once they get heavy enough, they start to rain, and the water comes falling back down. Just like right now. Sometimes it's only the rain. But, sometimes it turns into a thunderstorm, and lightning starts, and we get these noises and lights. Honestly, fuck that, baby, you know? But-- it's not very dangerous. I promise. We're safe, right here, we won't get hurt."
There was a long, syrupy pause.
You promise.
"Hell yes."
Because if this is our last day, I might go for some pancreas with a side dish of spleen. Delicious. Venom rasped, still only a portion of their normal commandeering apparition, but marbled enough to regain their humor. Or, at least, what Eddie was quite sure was humor.
"Really? I'm gonna say it."
Eddie.
"I will--"
Eddie, no--
"Parasite."
Venom moaned, exaggerated, and curled around the steady, smooth ridge of their heart, feeling the way it contracted and boasted against their tentacle, consistent and reliable. They squeezed a second, waiting until Eddie gave a light gasp of air before goading him.
Parasite? Hissed Venom. Parasites take, do they not? So perhaps I should slowly, attentively delve into our intestines and shred the evidence. Rake it up with my teeth, yes? Lick it all down until there is barely a scrap of cell left and then force you to grow it back. Repeatedly.
"Shit, Venom." Rumbled Eddie, head lulled back, gratefully accepting this propitious banter rather than whatever-fucking-melancholy had been transpiring. This was better. Home-- Venom was home.
Barely give you a second of rest in-between. Braid our veins and our tendrils together as the shapes reemerge. Just as it's reformed, taking in its first breath, slurp it up like a forbidden feast, and you'd never have a choice in the matter.
Venom snuggled up against the outer-casings of their heart, purring deeply and squeezing just a bit too intense to be normal.
Eddie fucking loved it.
Pain upon pain, dearest, and then you'll know what this 'thunder' truly tastes like.
"Only you would have a weather kink, Venom."
We are one and the same.
"Looks like I'll be sending another genre request to the good ol' Hub, huh?"
Venom roughly purred in response, warm all-around again and traversing inside their body with renewed vigor. A small sprout of raven black emerged from the dip of their neck, slinking up to happily sit on their cheek. No tongue had formed, but it felt as if they'd licked the cheekbone's depth. Cheeky.
Eddie grinned and patted the shifting blob of dark, enveloping goo lovingly.
"But, Venom--"
And, of course, Venom already knew what he would say first. There were no secrets between their intellects-- it was perfect.
We are okay.
"'Cause I can assure you, if we need a distraction, I have a wonderful meditation disk that should help take our mind away from the storm."
Venom chuckled against his cheek.
The disk is broken.
"Right…" Eddie had (decidedly) not remembered that. While attempting to plug in the disk after Mrs. Chen's incessant pestering about its endowments-- arms chock-full of frozen chicken poppers and on-sale chocolate bars-- he'd dropped it. The remnants were likely still on the floor. Unless they finally budgeted for a broom, they would stay there for quite some more time.
It was in Mandarin.
"Well, it's the thought that counts." Harrumphed Eddie.
He could idly feel Venom shifting through the vaults of their memories, briefly checking in folders to search for that idiom. Venom absolutely loved sorting through Eddie's subconscious, their own personal dictionary. Eddie rarely had an urge to seal anything away after the first time Venom had literally cackled after discovering Eddie's memory of his high-school yearbook photos (which had subsequently fostered Venom's passion for learning every single swear and derogatory term in the world-- his favorites were 'thumb-sucker', 'pussy', and 'lily-liver'd boy'). The secluded conundrums weren't as desirable a maneuver after he'd experienced Venom's enthusiasm for researching.
As Venom let out a pleased hum, he knew that they'd found it. A hard-cover, dust-sheened compilation of one specific idiom. He felt Venom's reflected satisfaction.
Eddie wedged a finger into the blackness, etched a nook in it to fondle Venom's physical form. He closed his eyes as his memories were placed back neatly, puffs of nostalgic dust and weathered, chapped pages settling. Curls and slick wraps of shifting mass latticed across his chest, rising out of it like looping, eloquent cursive. Hills and valleys connected the skin to skin. They surged about, crossing each other. The topmost reached the hollow of his neck, and the lowest cradled his right hipbone. Venom snuggled in further; it was a toasty hug.
Hungry.
"Well, it's an opportune time to head out for a midnight snack."
No. No storms. Food here. Maybe some cracklings, dark chocolate…
"Okay."
…Brains.
Eddie groaned and patted Venom's head-like structure. A beginning of a fang peeked out at him.
"The only meat we have is frozen chicken, and possibly some old shrimp." Venom didn't respond, so Eddie nudged their mass and clarified. "No brains."
We’re hungry. We need brains.
"And we're also not going to the butcher's in this weather."
Venom seethed, slipped a cool tendril down their forearm.
Pussy.
"Oh? Oh, so should we just--"
No!
There was a sharp prick just above his belly-button accompanied by a soft hiss from his cheek. Eddie chuckled and tickled the stringy hand that was reaching out towards his.
"I didn't think so, baby."
A particularly nasty bout of lightning struck near them, and he immediately cooed towards Venom, who he could sense was both jolted and attempting to seem unfazed. Eddie let their hands connect, rubbing his thumb over the back of the mass. The vessels around his chest tightened guardedly. A trickle of uncertainty radiated from Venom's general area of their conscience.
Venom was squirreling inside of their chest, circling around their heart like an artificial sleeve. The consistent beating comforted their apprehensions. As the air became chillier, curtains ruffled and minutely spread apart, Venom clung to their heart. Cuddled, Eddie thought, like their personal way of snuggling on a rainy day.
"I could always play some music from my phone and head to sleep until morning. The butcher's will be open by then." Eddie suggested off-handedly, wanting to soothe Venom without directly discussing it.
Sleep is benefitting.
"What spirit are we in?"
Venom lowly purred. Soft rock.
"Of course." Eddie regretfully removed the hand that was caressing Venom's head and swiftly searched through his playlists (all at a low frequency of Hertz and specifically curated to Venom's moods). Some days were more Beethoven, and others Alice Cooper.
"Here or bed?"
Nuzzling into Eddie's temple, Venom thought about it for a moment. They coiled a loose finger around Eddie's pinky, slinking back into their shared mind as they reconnected more intensely, honeycomb thoughts and archives colliding together. It was difficult to describe to anyone outside of their bond; Venom bubbled underneath it, finding it a peach-fizzed-scarlet, a human color. He could penetrate through it just as easily, but it was also solid; malleable, but firm. Wholly Eddie. It was a warm pool, a hot spring sauna (he liked that particular memory of Eddie's-- except that someone else was with him), a heated cytoplasm with all of their emotions effervescing. Eddie saw it as a dark, arcane relief. Both were equally appealing.
Let's stay here. Cozier.
Eddie merely chuckled, nestling the phone into the assemblage of supple pillows and blankets next to them-- in ultimate ear-range. He positioned their head next to it. Their feet spilled over the blankets, snugly fit under the cushioning on the other side. It was ripped up and loose, but oddly consummate; they fixed in soundly. Venom's gristly arm extended to wrap them up in the softest blanket available-- a navy wool-cashmere hybrid with a faded Fonzie image in the center. They raised it just enough to cover their collarbones so that Venom could still thresh around on their neck. Eddie writhed, searching for the optimal position. One arm slid underneath the pillows, the other rested lightly on their point of connection, right around the jaw and cheek.
He twisted a bit closer. The music was near enough that the other noises were canceled and drowned softly. Only Eddie's gentle breathing, Venom's fibrous, sticky arms slithering, and their combined, firm heartbeat remained. And a quaint hum of their broken heater, but they were used to that sound. Currently, meat-shopping was more of a priority than a handy-man budget-wise. But-- that wasn't the point. No; it was their connection. As Venom playfully wriggled into Eddie's neck, movements already becoming sleepy and jagged, they knew-- this wasn't the first rainy day they would have, and despite its previous complications, they hoped it wouldn't be the last.