Chapter Text
Standing in the arrivals section of the airport, Eddie sways back and forth on his heels, occasionally shifting from foot to foot.
So, what does the person you’re wearing look like? he mentally asks.
Their hair is too thin but the eyebrows are neat. Also, they have ten fingernails.
Uh, do you have something more specific for me, bud? A lot of people have thin hair, neat eyebrows, and ten fingernails.
Mobsters didn’t.
Okay, so you’re not in a mobster. That’s definitely a good thing. What else can you tell me about them? Like, approximate age, race, gend -
Their skin smells like cheese.
V, buddy, you know I can’t smell people from a distance. I’d have to be standing right next to you. Or go around sniffing every person coming through the gate.
Wonder if I could make your senses sharper? Maybe if I tweaked your olfactory system, created more odor molecule receptors -
Whoa, wait! No, bad idea,V. I don’t really think I want to have super smell. Can we focus on the problem at hand? Your descriptions are...great, but I’m looking for colors, shapes, distinguishing features.
“ I can tell when you’re lying, Eddie. You didn’t find the descriptions useful at all. Definitely not great ,” Venom mutters right in Eddie’s ear, making him jump.
(Definitely with no accompanying high-pitched mini-shriek of surprise.)
And, oh, wow. V’s Host really does smell strongly of Blue Cheese. It’s so bad that Eddie takes a step back. “There weren’t any better choices?”
Venom shrugs, holding out a hand. “ This one’s smell kept others away and he’s on a business trip so no one’s meeting him here .”
With a grimace, Eddie takes the hand but his firm grip soon starts to squeeze involuntarily as Venom begins the transfer. His knees shiver at the feel of Venom absorbing into him and stretching out under his skin.
Fuck, it’s been so long. Did it always feel this good?
Better now because of the connection. More complete. Missed you, Eddie.
Missed you too, V. So goddamn much.
Beneath his shirt, Eddie can feel Venom rising above his skin, to cover his torso with just enough constriction to feel like a hug, except that everywhere he touches, nerves thrum. It’s like a cross between tiny shocks of electricity across his chest and that weak feeling that comes with too much exercise.
“Uh... Entschuldigung? Escuse mi?” the German asks, blinking rapidly as he comes back into himself.
“Oh, um, welcome to San Francisco!” Eddie says, carefully extracting his hand.
The German nods brusquely and then looks about himself. “When did I...my bag!” he goes running for the information desk, already pointing towards the Arrivals exit where the bag carousels are.
Eddie wants to move, but he’s afraid that if he takes a step, he’ll crash like water suddenly released from a cracked aquarium. “C-can you drive?”
The woman Eddie’s awkwardly facing flicks him a look. “Need some help, sweetie?” she asks.
“ Not from you ,” Venom growls.
Sweeping a stabilizing tendril into each of Eddie’s limbs, Venom takes the reigns, heading toward the parking lot as he sifts through Eddie’s mental schedule. Why did you agree to a meeting with your boss at the paper?
He said he only needed a few minutes. I didn’t think I’d feel like this.
Straddling Eddie’s bike, Venom sighs. The state we are in is not fit for company.
Given how his insides are quivering, Eddie can’t help but agree. Especially since he only has the length of the ride back into the city proper to get ahold of himself.
But, needs must.
New apartment means new bills to pay. Not to mention, Eddie still feels guilty about skipping the mafia story. So much information, and all of it will go to waste.
Dangerous, Eddie.
I know. Doesn’t make it feel any better though.
You’re hoping he has a new story for us.
Breathing on a bike is a trick. Air’s always pressing in, flowing over you, whipping at clothes and seams. Anything that isn’t tied down typically goes flying. But it’s hearing the word “us” again and feeling the truth of it that steels Eddie’s breath as they head northbound on the US-101.
Would be nice to have something productive to do.
Could think of plenty of things for you to do, Eddie , Venom says in a rumbling tone that adds to the already substantial vibration of the bike and his raw nerves.
What’s worse is that Venom fills his head with images.
Tantalizing, decadent, tormenting images that burn onto his retinas and threaten to…
I hate you. I hate you so much. Oh, god, stop at the nearest fast food joint. I need to…
Use the restroom? Venom hums, all too pleasantly.
HATE. YOU.
Love you too, Eddie , Venom says, a wide grin stretching across his face as he parks in front of a Dunkin’ Donuts, right across the creek from a place called Hotel V, of all things.
Eddie barely makes the appointment.
His pants have thankfully air-dried enough that he can walk in with his shirt tucked in. Or Venom can walk in, really, because Eddie’s control over his limbs is still a little unstable.
“Hey, Eddie.” Mr. Glass welcomes him in with a gesture towards a chair. “Last we spoke, you were still looking for a story, correct?”
“Yessir,” Eddie says as Venom seats them in the leftmost chair.
“Fantastic. This was originally going to be Valerie’s, but her mother was hospitalized last night so she won’t be able to make the game,” Glass says, selecting a sheaf of stapled paper from his desk and holding it out for Eddie to take.
“Game?” Eddie takes the pages, flipping through them. When he sees the photo, he freezes.
Oh, we know him. Venom has to tighten their hold on the papers to keep them from slipping to the floor.
That’s not a good thing, V!
“Today is Luke Crawford’s first game back since his upset a few weeks ago. His therapist just cleared him. By the by, did you see that game?” Mr. Glass taps the table thoughtfully. “It was an absolute disaster. Against the Yankees, no less! Poor boy must have been terribly embarrassed. Anyway, we’ve got copies of all the tapes from the stadium cameras and there was plenty of coverage so you can select a clip to include with the online article.”
Swallowing hard, Eddie says, “Uh, sir? I’m not sure you want me on this story. I mean, I wouldn’t want to steal Valerie’s thunder. She must’ve been looking forward to this interview. Especially with everything that happened at the last game - “
“Oh, indeed! You’ll want to ask about the details. Mr. Crawford hasn’t admitted what inspired him to climb the backstop and the footage isn’t particularly elucidating. Some of it suggests he was being chased by a few beefy men in tracksuits? But then he also seemed to be chasing after someone? Kept yelling things into the stands, before and after he jumped into them. Actually, I think he was calling your name, now that I - ”
“This looks like a great story,” Eddie cuts Mr. Glass off. “Thank you for the opportunity.” Move , he tells Venom.
He’s not done talking.
He’ll never be done talking! If you don’t get out of here, he’ll just start a new conversation. The game’s in an hour and I have to call Valerie, see if I can’t convince her to either take the story or recommend someone else.
“Yes, of course,” Mr. Glass continues. “Also, don’t forget to ask for a copy of the drug test. They made him take one, obviously. According to other news outlets, he passed the screening for illegal substances, but everyone’s still very suspicious.”
“People love to speculate,” Eddie says, a strained grin on his face. Move !
Lazily finding his feet, V waves the papers at Mr. Glass in mock salute.
As soon as they’re past the threshold, Eddie’s digging a floppy hand into his pocket for his cellphone.
You don’t want this story? V asks, pulling Eddie’s eyes away from the phone so he can read through the first page.
Hell no! I don’t ever want to run into Luke Crawford, again. Shit, he’ll probably kill me if he ever sees my face again.
Wouldn’t die, Eddie. Wouldn’t let you , V hums, utterly self-assured. Don’t you want to control the message? He asks, directing Eddie’s attention to the transcript from the game. In particular, the times Luke Crawford was recorded shouting his name.
Finding Valerie’s number in the contacts, Eddie presses the dial button. It goes straight to voicemail. Motherfu -
You could make Luke look good, so he won’t hate you. Stop people from calling him a drug addict. You’re good at telling stories.
Eddie feels a little stab of feeling on V’s end of the connection. Something a little bitter - a touch salty. There’s rifling going on in his head. A kaleidoscope of memories flashing briefly. What are you looking for?
Do you even like baseball? I have never known you to watch games played by others on the TV, but some people do. Even Luke Crawford, who plays in them, had a genuine love for watching games.
Eddie rubs the back of his head, guiltily. I’ve been to a few games in my life. They were...kinda boring to watch, honestly. I know the rules of baseball, some of the key players from back in the day and their stats, but... Eddie shrugs. Why are you asking?
You insisted on taking us into a dangerous situation, citing sentimentality over a game you were bored with. I should have noticed. You spent most of the game thinking about me. Talking to me. I should have noticed. I insulted the game and laughed at it, but you didn’t care. You had no attachment to who would win. AND I SHOULD HAVE NOTICED.
Eddie’s hands form fists and squeeze the air with Venom’s angry distress.
Hey, what’s wrong? I thought we were past this? I...thought you forgave m -
Venom’s tongue is suddenly in his mouth, curling and constricting around his own. The ripple of pleasure that runs through Eddie at those soft, slick caresses is incredibly awkward, given they’re still just outside the boss’s office.
Not the place, V.
But the...kiss (?) slowly gentles as Venom writhes over and beneath his skin. Silky and smooth. It’s both an apology and a gentling.
Eddie is being gentled.
But, why? There’s an unspoken issue here that Eddie can tell is all wrapped up and neatly packaged in the phrase “I should have noticed.”
It should go without saying, but you can’t blame yourself for things I did, he says, hesitant, because Venom knows that, right? It hasn’t come up in the last two weeks. Then again, they haven’t really talked about the game since the day Eddie got captured.
Should have seen.
Wait, you actually feel guilty about what happened? About what I did?
Could have been prevented if I had been paying attention.
You were exhausted.
NO EXCUSE.
You trusted me and I lied to you.
I know you, Eddie. You wouldn’t have risked us for baseball. It should have been obvious.
Well, that was then, this is now. There’s no point feeling guilty about things you can’t change, Eddie tries, gently. He’s not sure what else he can say to erase Venom’s guilt. He’s had more practice talking himself into a guilty frame of mind than out of one. As he’s trying to think of something, Venom waves the phone in front of his face.
With a sigh, Eddie takes the phone and tries the three numbers he knows from the office a few times. The calls either go to voicemail or get disconnected as someone on the other end immediately hangs up.
Eddie sweeps his gaze over the clumps of cubicles, but none of the senior members of staff are in. Just a few interns hard at work editing fluff pieces or doing background research.
Where to, Eddie?
With a pained groan, Eddie says, “The stadium.”
They ride the elevator down to street level, where Venom hops on Eddie’s bike. But rather than turning it on right away, he pauses for a moment to stroke the fuel tank, then the handlebars.
“Um...V? Want me to drive?” Eddie asks, feeling about half-way to normal.
Without a word, Venom turns the key and pulls into traffic.
His silence is discomfiting and though Eddie knows he could go fishing through Venom’s thoughts, he’d rather ask. It’s polite to ask. But what’s the right question?
Before he can find one, V asks, Ever wish you had more choices?
Eddie waits for an accompanying image or more information, but Venom doesn’t present him with anything.
What kind of choices are you thinking? More apartments to choose from? More clothing options in my price range? Healthier snack options at the grocery store? What?
More symbiotes.
Eddie’s suddenly very glad that he’s not in control of the motorcycle because that question would’ve likely caused an accident. What kind of question is that?!
A normal one. Most humans select their mates for specific reasons - attractiveness, intelligence, humor, money. Before me, you selected Anne. She rejected you when you did something unacceptable. Then you ended up with me, but I didn’t give you a choice. Wanted you for myself. Didn’t want to let you choose, but you never asked to be given the opportunity. Your interest in cultivating more and varied human relationships fell away. But even amongst mobsters, love requires choice. You chose me over other humans, but would you choose me over other symbiotes?
It’s not an option to stay silent. That part at least is clear, because Venom’s asking a serious question. But once again, Eddie’s at a loss. Where’s this coming from, V? You know I love you.
The images that spring forth are odd, full of scenes that in Eddie’s mind seem disconnected, so Venom explains.
For the image of Eddie in the stands at the baseball game, Venom says, Instead of thinking critically about the situation, I was lulled into sleep and ended up in a foreign Host.
For the image of Eddie stumbling into the IHOP, Venom says, Instead of following your scent, tracking you down, or outsmarting you, I found you by accident.
For the image of Eddie in the torture room, Venom says, Instead of telling you the plan, I left you in a room full of ways to hurt yourself with the means to escape your bindings in your pocket.
The past month wouldn’t have happened if you were Riot’s Host.
V, none of that was your fault! You’ve got access to my mind. Why do you even need to ask whether I’d choose you?
Because you’ve never thought about it. You made a choice between me and other humans, but maybe what you were choosing was the kind of relationship that would fit you best. You’d be lonely with less than what we have, but what if the symbiote inside you was like Anne? Or like Riot? Think about it.
No , Eddie says, scowling.
Why not?
Because it’s a stupid exercise, V. What’s the point of considering it? Or is this you trying to let me down easy? Did you decide that maybe you’d prefer to trade up in the two weeks you were away? I mean, as Semyon, you were able to eat whatever and whoever you wanted. A man like that has plenty of money and power. He may not be an option anymore, but hey! Luke Crawford also has a pretty good life. You could land him a few home runs, make him a legend, and in return you could travel the world in off seasons. Plenty of food out there besides chocolate and tater tots. What do you think? Since we’re headed to the stadium, I can take a moment after the interview to slip you back into Luke, if you want.
Oh, boy. Too far. Way too far.
Eddie mentally slips away from the hornet’s nest he just kicked on V’s side of the connection.
Venom’s breaths are hot and shallow as he very carefully pulls the bike up to the curve and turns off the engine. It takes him a long, solid minute to calm down enough for coherent thought.
“ Symbiotes are malleable. I can change in ways a human can’t. Our connection is forever. It would be better to change now if it means you’ll always be happy. My question was fair . ” Venom growls, needing the vocal release too much to say the words internally. “ ANSWER. IT ,” he commands. As for everything Eddie said, it’s clear from all the internal cursing that Venom won’t dignify it with a response.
Venom waits until Eddie begrudgingly shifts his focus before he starts the engine, which takes a good few seconds because he still thinks it’s a stupid question with an unknowable answer, not too different from asking, would the world be better with unicorns in it?
Who the fuck knows?
Is a unicorn like a horse or more like a rhino in temperment? Do they live in forests? Which forests? Because the Amazon’s lifespan is getting shorter every year. Are they carnivorous? Do they hunt virgins? Or are they like normal animals?
Focus, Eddie , Venom prods with involuntary amusement.
Because Venom has a similar sense of humor. Mentally, Eddie puts that in the Pro Column, because if he’s being forced to do this, he may as well be organized about it.
Another Pro is Venom’s cheap, albeit unhealthy, tastes, given that Eddie doesn’t mind a diet of mainly sugar and starch and Venom’s both willing and able to fix any part of Eddie that might be affected by a bad diet.
And, now that he’s thinking about it, another Pro, oddly enough, is how Venom turns into a troll whenever he gets bored, which is pretty frequently, and usually he chooses to troll Eddie. He likes to tease and poke and prod and ask questions at the worst possible times, but it’s...fun. Never boring.
Doesn’t matter where he goes, or what he’s doing, Venom makes the experience better. Hell, even the way this all started was because Eddie had felt safe walking into a dangerous situation with Venom. He definitely doesn’t ever want to do it again, but he’d technically been right. Venom did win out in the end.
He likes their relationship as it is.
Are there any Cons? Other than the unavoidable ones, like the massive grocery bill and penchant for eating criminals?
Not really.
You could let me sleep in a little longer on weekends , Eddie offers up just as Venom’s looking for a parking spot.
That’s it? The only way you can imagine this relationship being better is if I let you sleep more?
Yeah, guess so , Eddie says as he shifts V’s gaze to a space near the stadium entrance already half-taken by another motorcycle. Park there.
Venom hisses unhappily. Not a good place to park. The bike could get hit if the other rider wants to get out first or if the car parked next to this spot swings the door open too far.
It’ll be fine. There’s cameras in this lot. If someone hits the bike, we can probably get a license plate. And if not, I’ve got insurance. We’re going to miss our pre-game time slot with Luke if we don’t head in now.
Not a good parking spot , Venom insists.
But Eddie feels more stable now, his limbs no longer jittery without Venom’s support, so he parks the bike himself, swings his leg over, and starts walking away. They’ve got fifteen minutes to get through check-in and find the locker rooms.
You can’t leave it here , Venom insists again, stopping Eddie in his tracks.
Seriously? Why are you so upset about the…
Eddie sees a flash of an image. Luke Crawford standing all night next to the abandoned bicycle. A bike.
A goddamn bike.
What the actual fuck?!
“YOU’RE NOT A BIKE, V!” Eddie shouts, kicking the side of his motorcycle so that it sways precariously. Suddenly, the conversation they just had seems so much more twisted. “Leaving you because I thought you were going to die and abandoning a bike that I didn’t need anymore are not the same thing. Never was. Never will be. Bikes are tools . You can upgrade them, swap out parts, and abandon them when they stop being useful. I’m not going to leave you even if you wake me up at dawn everyday. I’m not going to wish you looked or acted more human, because it’s not what I fucking want . And I don’t want you to change, unless experience changes you. You’re not a fucking tool. You’re my everything, so drop the fucking metaphor!”
People are staring.
He can feel them watching as they carefully back away from the crazy dude who just got done kicking a motorcycle and shouting to himself. But their reaction doesn’t matter.
What matters is the slide of tendrils along his spine as Venom covers his shoulders with warm pressure. Ok, Eddie. There’s a caress along the back of his neck, soothing brushes against his earlobes, the flicker of a foreign tongue along the top of his mouth…
All wonderful sensations, but not in a parking lot right before an interview. You gotta stop doing this to me in public, V , Eddie says, reduced once again to trembling in place.
Venom hums inside him without remorse. You’ve got a bigger problem than tight jeans, Eddie.
Yeah? What’s that?
You met with Luke at the last game and he started shouting things in public. Now, you’re here to interview him and you’re the one shouting things in public. If you’re not careful, the next question on people’s minds will be whether you’re Luke’s drug supplier.
Unless I can convince them that the AT&T Park is haunted by a ghost that regularly possesses people and makes them shout outrageous things.
Can you convince them?
Not a chance. Maybe I can spin it as a symptom of a new disease?
Venom just hums again, licking a stripe behind Eddie’s ear.
The only reason Eddie’s not late to the interview is because he remembers from his last visit there was a sign in the service hall pointing down one end to get to the locker rooms. Luke’s agent is there to meet and prep him, laying down the law on what kind of questions he’s allowed to ask and handing him the official statement Luke recently put out to explain his behavior at the previous game.
“A bad reaction to pain prescription meds?”
Kimberly, the agent, glares at him until he repeats the lie back to her before letting him through.
The locker room is busy with activity as players prepare for the game. Some of them look to be completing little rituals or futzing with their uniforms as Eddie lets Venom direct them by scent to Luke’s row.
The experience isn’t foreign to him. Early in his career, Eddie used to stand by with some of the camera equipment as the newscaster he was job-shadowing conducted interviews with football players. He tries to use that to quell some of his panic at seeing Luke again. Maybe the man won’t remember him? After all, their exchange was pretty quick and the rest of Luke’s day must have been traumatic.
He’ll remember you. Venom rolls his tongue past Eddie’s lips when he finds the correct row, flickering to taste the air.
What are you doing? Eddie’s eyes dart around to check if anyone’s looking, but the other players don’t pay him no mind. Likely used to reporters coming in solely to interview Luke after the last game.
Tastes like you, Eddie , is all the warning he gets before Venom takes control, closing the distance to Luke’s locker and prying the door open rather violently.
“Hey, what are - “
Eddie tries to look in the direction of the voice, but Venom wrenches them back, reaching into the locker to grab a...familiar sweatshirt.
“ - you doing?!” Luke’s hand closes over Eddie’s shoulder, forcing him to spin around. There’s a long moment where they just stare at each other. “Y-y-you!” Luke points an accusing finger in Eddie’s face. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Before Eddie can answer, Venom waves the sweatshirt in Luke’s face and growls, “ Mine .”
“Oh shit.” Luke promptly steps back. “S-so I guess you both s-survived? That’s cool, man. Great. Peachy, in fact.” He takes another step back. “Wh-what are you doing here, though?”
Smiling weakly at Luke, Eddie waves his pen and notepad. “Here for an interview. I’m the last minute replacement for Valerie Kingston. She was going to ask you about...the last game.”
Nostrils flaring, Luke nods violently. “Yeah,” he takes a step forward, shoulders straightening, “Yeah, let’s talk about last game.”
As Eddie starts to sweat, nervous at the posture and proximity of the huge baseball player that has every right to be pissed at him, Venom forces him to grin, showing off a trap jaw of needle teeth. “ Careful ,” he growls, and only relinquishes control back to Eddie once Luke has quailed.
“Sorry about him,” Eddie says, rubbing the back of his head, sheepishly. Lord knows he deserves to get pummeled for leaving Luke with an alien symbiote. He’d been trying to think of long-term solutions with a focus on what would be best for Venom, callously ignoring the fact that the stranger he’d be transferring V into would have their life altered. “But hopefully I can make up for what I did? Provide you some closure, help paint you in the best light?”
Crossing his arms, Luke sighs. “I can’t believe all of that shit actually happened. I mean, I knew it must’ve. I’ve been keeping that sweatshirt as a reminder that I’m not actually crazy. There really was an alien inside of me.”
His voice drops down to a whisper, forcing Eddie to lean in.
“How can you stand it? I mean, talk about the worst kind of violation. It’s always fucking there and it never shuts up. You want to piss? It’s there. You want to eat something? Better get its approval first. You want to stop obsessively hunting for the person who fucked you over? Not an option. I was a passenger in my own body for most of that time and luckily he didn’t want to stay. Otherwise, even though he wasn’t all that bad, I would’ve been desperate to find a lab that would be able to extract him. I mean, how do you have any sort of life with Venom inside you? Have you thought about your future? What about a wife? What about kids? How’s any of that going to work?”
“Uh, I’m actually here to interview you ,” Eddie reminds him, but Luke’s set posture makes it clear that he wants to know and now Venom’s attention is caught. He admits, awkwardly, “I wasn’t really in my right mind when I...forced him into you. Your future honestly didn’t even cross my mind. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about that, because you’re right. I don’t think having a wife and kids would work with Venom. Luckily, I’m not really interested in...all that.”
Luke looks dumbstruck. “But, even a one-night stand - “ he starts and then snaps his teeth shut over the question, recognizing Eddie’s blush as a warning not to go down that path. Raising his hands in surrender, he says finally, “So, you said you can shore up my image? What kind of questions do you have for me?”
Blessedly, the interview is short, sweet, and on-topic. Eddie lays out exactly how he’s going to structure the article, promising to make the part about the pain meds as persuasive as he knows how and they part on much better terms than Eddie thought they would.
Are we staying for the game? Venom asks, suddenly halting their progress towards the seats Eddie’s looking for.
Yup. Figured I could start drafting the article during the game and show it to Luke or his agent afterward. Get their approval before I submit it for editing.
Spreading a tendril over Eddie’s ribs, Venom demands, food first , and forces the sweatshirt over Eddie’s head. The thing’s so big, it easily fits over his motorcycle jacket.
Wait, no, it’s too warm for this. Eddie tries to remove the sweatshirt at the same time as Venom’s trying to force his arms through the sleeves. They end up wrestling with the material in the middle of the aisle until there’s a cough behind Eddie.
Giving up, Eddie lets Venom dress him in the sweatshirt.
Why, though? It’s not nearly cold enough to be wearing this many layers? Eddie asks, heading towards the food vendors.
Resting along his shoulders, Venom rolls over his skin in a gentle wave. Just wear it, loser.
It’s too warm!
Then take off the motorcycle jacket .
The jacket looks better than the sweatshirt!
Not to me , Venom rumbles, his voice a phantom vibration in Eddie’s chest.
Wha - seriously?!
Makes you look small.
So, you’re actively trying to make me look ridiculous?
Venom stops them in front of a hotdog vendor. Not ridiculous. Cute, Eddie. Also, it hides a lot of space on you. Gives me room to do this.
Eddie nearly yelps as Venom slides over the top of his jeans, still covered by the baggy, thigh-length sweatshirt. He’d bought it so long ago, back when he’d thought his career would leave him sitting out on rooftops gathering surveillance with a pair of binoculars and recording equipment. Big enough to fit his knees under in lieu of a blanket. Giving a symbiote a new way to clandestinely molest him in public had not been part of the imagined use case.
You absolute jerk!
Order food, Eddie. Line behind you is growing.
It’s not, but with a sigh, Eddie asks, “How many you want?”
“No, man, how many do you want?” the hot dog vendor asks, squinting at Eddie’s face.
The exchange feels kind of like deja vu. Especially when Venom grumbles, All of them, Eddie. You haven’t been eating. Gotten so thin, your body’s cannibalizing muscle.
“Uh, how about you fill up one of those family-sized trays?” Eddie asks. “Feel free to stack them high.”
The hot dog vendor gapes at him. “You’re the man from last time!” he says suddenly in recognition.
“Oh...yeah” Eddie grimaces. “Just really love hot dogs.”
“You’re gonna eat yourself into a heart attack,” the vendor warns, stacking a pyramid of 40. Then he offers him to stack another set after he’s done.
“Nah, thanks,” Eddie says over Venom’s internal protests. “This is plenty.”
Not enough, Eddie.
I’ll eat something at home, V. We’re not on the run anymore. We can eat whatever we want without arousing the suspicions of hot dog vendors who like to offer unsolicited dietary advice.
Should have reminded us before we bought a pyramid of dead chemical meat, Venom mutters as Eddie finds his seat in the stands. Then, after a pause, he asks, Why are you smiling like that?
Biting his lip, Eddie can’t verbalize the feeling so he shares it - the warm, desperate relief of being together again when he’d been so sure last time he was here that everything would end in disaster.
Fuck, he’d been so sure .
Sitting in this stadium, with a pile of hot dogs in his lap, Eddie remembers how he’d struggled a few weeks ago to phrase a goodbye that wouldn’t sound like one, trying to leave Venom with a sense of how much he meant to him. Hoping that it would soothe the ache of abandonment, that it would bring the symbiote some measure of peace in his new Host.
Venom’s own relief joins his, much like the way he curls claw-shaped tendrils over Eddie’s hands in a fierce clasp. Can’t happen again, Eddie. Impossible now.
Of all the things to make Eddie sniffle over his hot dogs, it’s Venom’s absolute certainty that does it.
Making us look pathetic, Eddie , Venom hums, without any real care.
Shut up, V , Eddie says, teary-eyed and grinning. It’s just so good to be us again.
I know, Eddie. Beneath the sweatshirt, Venom curls tighter. I know.