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Published:
2018-11-03
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3,450
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1/1
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That Time they Went to IKEA

Summary:

Another prompt from Tumblr: When money from writing gigs starts to trickle in, they go on an IKEA date to replace their destroyed furniture and shelves and kitchen stuff, sweatproof bedding, whatever else they need — and V gets to pick out something special too.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

 

“Thanks again for doing this, Dan, Annie. We really appreciate the ride.”

The ride in question was to the closest IKEA in the area, across the Bay Bridge to Emeryville. Eddie’s ex and her new boyfriend were sensible, professional adults, and as such they possessed a nice car with a hatchback, which is beneficial when one is looking to procure some DIY Scandinavian furniture condensed into complicated little flat boxes.

He could have taken his bike, perhaps, but all that would have resulted in was looking like a douche canoe trying too hard to look cool, and spending at least $50 in unnecessary delivery fees.

So he buttered up D’Anne, as he had taken to calling them in his head, and they graciously agreed to take their token hot mess friend to the furniture superstore. Plus, according to Dan, they could stand to get a few things for their home as well. Eddie was a lot of things, but he would have been a piss poor reporter from Brooklyn if he couldn’t spot bullshit a mile away. Dan looked the way V sounded when they bullied him into a proper grocery store with a real live butcher in order to buy a “little something” for dinner - a little something that always put a not-so-little dent in his wallet.

Traffic had been light on account of it being in the middle of a weekday, and Eddie was grateful for that. Traffic and crowds were a challenge to begin with, and V was already high strung and thrumming beneath the surface of his skin, excited to terrorize a warehouse of home resources at low prices, where they encouraged tactile observation.

They already had a low opinion of human craftsmanship between the furniture destroyed by the Life Foundation, and the rocket they took out with Riot’s… spike thing. That V and Eddie had also decimated their beloved couch just last week didn’t help matters one bit, even if the reason for the destruction was wrapped up in fond memory.

Even finding parking was a treat, and with the precognitive sense honed by months in his symbiote’s company, Eddie began to sweat nervously, wondering when the string of good luck would inevitably run out, and V would start their shit.

Turns out that said luck lasted up until about five minutes into the store.

Eddie had set up ground rules back when they first decided to give their symbiosis a fair shot. And when hiccups came along, they discussed them like adults (mostly) or engaged in a battle of wills until someone conceded and some kind of compromise was had. One rule that Eddie was particularly sticky about was the requirement that Venom be invisible and silent whenever they were in unfamiliar areas where they could be recorded or seen. IKEA was a prime example of just such a place where it would be best for his symbiote to go dark, but the excitement of the new sights, and the goading company of Anne meant that Eddie procured a stylish black “scarf” about 30 seconds into the store. And said scarf often found reasons to flap along Anne’s shoulder as they walked together, so the indiscreet pair could mutter suggestions on what departments to examine first.

While Eddie felt the first pangs of a headache behind his eyes, and his jaw clenched so much he made himself yawn, he didn’t bother to take on Anne and Venom. It would take someone much more formidable and immune to their combined will and guile to break up that dream team, and he and Dan were not it.

Instead, he took a cleansing breath and followed along.

“So, what are the main things you guys are looking for today?” Anne queried from behind stylish sunglasses. “V mentioned a couch? Please don’t tell me you have been living without a couch since we broke up.”

“No,” Eddie tucked his hands under his arms and avoided eye contact. “No, I uh, had a couch, it’s just a piece of sh—“

“—Broken,“ Venom supplied. “Terrible craftsmanship, in my opinion.”

Dan looked away from the helpful infographic that directed n00bs to which floor they needed for what area of the home. “How did you manage to break a couch?”

Despite not looking at anyone, not even a stranger passing by, Eddie felt his face heat up, and a few drops of sweat licked down his spine. The sensation was too close to what got them here in the first place: a smoky, rough need, greedy, inky hands grasping, pulling, pinning him down, soothing rumbling praises as they moved just so, fingers turned claws tearing into the fake leather, the whine of the wood frame ratcheting higher with their mounting pleasure until there’s a sickening crack, and they’re tumbling over the precipice of release, even as they’re falling ass over tentacle onto the splintered heap of what was once the best couch a broke dude could hope to score on Craigslist.

R.I.P., depression couch.

“Um, basically Venom is a fatass. Weighs like 900 pounds or something, and ole faithful couldn’t handle it when he plonked down to watch the Late Late Show one night.”

The couch was shitty. Made shitty, and mostly had shitty memories, the actual reason the thing broke withstanding. Our new couch will be better. Sturdier. And no more depression. Just comfort, good food, and Netflix and chill.

“You are…so corny, V.” The smile slipped out, and he knew it looked sappy, damn it.

And yet, you bonded with me. Fuck me. What does that make you?

Touché. Now he’s flirting with his scarf in public, and contemplating how to smother the first pangs of arousal thanks to his little flashback. Asshole space worm.

Worse still, he made the mistake of looking at Anne, and knew her well enough to know she smelled blood in the water, and was going to go for it like a fucking shark.

Eddie shook his head and brushed the scarf across his lips. “I’m a corn eating motherfucker, apparently.”

Venom’s amusement bubbled up his ribs like soda fizz.

Finding a couch took far longer than should have ever been necessary. Venom was fastidious, and demanded that they enact their favorite moves on each prospective sofa, minus a few that Eddie said was not appropriate for public spaces, or in front of D’Anne. The power couple in question quickly lost patience with their bickering and branched out to go get their own shit, while Eddie and V haggled over the pros and cons of two final seating options. The debate got so heated that V manifested as a mock up of a Bluetooth earpiece so they could speak more freely without looking completely unstable.

Eddie honestly forgot why he even preferred the other couch, except it was smaller and seemed sturdy enough for their needs. Mostly he sometimes (often) liked to rile Venom up, just to see them push and push Eddie until he got to this point where his mind was clear and he was content to feel-listen to the pitch and feeling of their voice in his head and along his nerves. At some point Venom got hip to his game, stopped mid rant, and with a quickness of a striking viper, settled into Eddie’s limbs, pinning them with Venom’s mass, if not their girth in outward appearance, and the couch they had been pushing for absorbed the new sudden weight without so much as a squeak.

Eddie swallowed thickly and wrote the location of the couch parts onto the little IKEA paper with shaking fingers.

Later they found their friends, and had procured a fuck ton of random shit for the place. One of those wooden people sculptures, some small pieces of photography and art, a new clock, and cheap cookware. Venom insisted on a few sets of cotton sheets and fresh pillows, and Eddie splurged on a new shower curtain. He was seriously contemplating throw pillows when Venom’s interest in the process became tempered by his increasing hunger, and they proposed a short break.

With their shit piled with other carts of shit they lined up for food, and Eddie got a little trolly with slats for serving trays. He slid a tray on each space in anticipation and followed along, grabbing up plates of smoked salmon and dill, some questionable looking Swedish seafood dish that may or may not be fermented or cooked, and 3 orders of meatballs with all the fixings. They polished the meal off with two slices of chocolate cake and two glasses of lingonberry juice.

Anne and Dan were already sat when Eddie wheeled their glorified trough up to the table, but the three fell into safe, idle chatter reasonably well. Eddie is an awko-taco on a good day in situations like these, for all his charisma and tv show skills, but they muddle along - which lead Eddie to start a countdown for another shoe to drop and muck up the process and lo, there’s Annie learning across her plate with mischief curling her lips.

“Did you boys get what you needed?”

“Sure did,” Eddie replied. “How about Dan’s master list? You good?”

“As well as can be now. Some of the items I would like are a logistical nightmare, but there is nothing I needed to function. “

“I see,” Eddie nodded and chewed.

You do not.

He did not, but he silently told V that when it came to human interactions the path of least resistance was often to smile and nod as if you did.

For reasons that likely had to do with a complex series of research and a fair bit of trial and error, the children’s section was adjacent to the cafeteria. As such, it wasn’t long before the din of bored children climbing on sturdy wooden pint sized furniture competed with the kitchen noises, and Annie’s knowing stare, which hadn’t abated, started to make Eddie’s skin itch.

V, who had been distracted by the guppy gaze of a little brat, misunderstood Eddie’s discomfort, and reacted predictably.

We can eat them, if they are bothering you.

“No,” Eddie muttered. “You can’t. We don’t eat kids.”

“They are staring, you told me it is rude to stare.”

Dan, whom Eddie thinks didn’t take a break in talking since they sat down, interjected with, “And I see you got some bathrobes. Look pretty good too for the price—“

“Bathrobes?” Annie’s pale eyebrows shot up. “You hardly could remember to use a clean towel—“

“We have disabused him of this tendency on the grounds that crusty towels irritate our membranes and harbor a staggering colony of potentially harmful microorganisms—”

And now things were out of hand. “V, don’t talk about the germs again, and stop with the head thing, someone might see, for fuck’s sake—“

“—You got him to use clean towels, AND a bathrobe? Are you a wizard, Venom? Wait… no, I saw that love bite on his neck. You’re fucking him!”

Lingonberry juice went down the wrong air hole and for a solid 30 seconds, Eddie Brock was fairly certain he was going to die.

You are not going to die. Honestly, killed by a sip of juice? Whatever would my kin think?

Their kin was dead, but his airway was cleared, so there was that. Eddie wasn’t going to complain. Besides, Eddie had bigger problems. Dan had abandoned his discussion of the ethics of cheating IKEA Family for discounts in favor of clinical interest in him and Venom. Sexually.

“So erm, h-how does one engage in intercourse with a symbiote, they seem quite b-bigger than you. I feel like rectal tears—“

A Swedish meatball tumbled down Eddie’s shirt, to be lost to the floor before Venom saved it with a quick flick of a tentacle.

Eddie, you are making us look bad!

“You know, Dan, I don’t think this is a conversation that’s really appropriate for IKEA—“

“Kind of like the real reason why your couch broke,” Annie agreed as she delicately dabbed the corner of her mouth.

Eddie narrowed his eyes despite the tomato-y shade of his face. “Not a word, Annie.”

“Yes, Doctor Dan,” V agreed, oozing the same shitty smug chaos that was written on Annie’s face. “There are children present.”

It didn’t take extensive experience to sense when he was about to be the butt of a joke, so Eddie reached down and gave his symbiote a pinch. “Don’t even.”

“Killjoy.” Venom sniffed. “Besides, I was referring to the spawn.”

“The what now?” They’d had a dream like that last week, but V had assured him that that was NOT where babies came from back on his home planet.

Dan meanwhile, was positively enthralled. “Spawn? Wait, V, are you…” He lowered his voice. “Are you pregnant?”

“Oh no, not yet,” Venom hummed

“—Yet?”

“No, dear. I was actually referring to the human offspring who has been quite interested in our discourse and is still staring. Seriously, where is this child’s progenitor? The last time I behaved like this, you didn’t let me have chocolate ice cream for three days—“

There was a less-than-subtle scuffle as man and symbiote battled to get Venom back into the confines of Eddie’s chest, thankfully drowned out by Anne’s giggles.

“—Will you get your—head—ass—back inside? You’re going to cause a scene. Jesus, the kid’s probably staring because you look like a pint size version of the villain from Fern Gully, you juiced up tapeworm—“

“I have no idea what a Fern Gully issss and you know it—“

“Mommy?” The little voice pierced through their bickering and the rattle of dishes. “That little man is fighting himself.”

Said mother materialized, armful of art supplies, and tugged on the kid’s hand without skipping a beat. “Come on, sweetie. It’s not nice to stare.”

“TOLD YOU!”

“Shut up, Noodle,” Eddie growled as he shoved Venom back into his sternum.

“We should probably go,” Dan insisted. “I think that woman saw your friend and she looks traumatized enough to call security.”

“Good call,” Anne agreed, and ushered Eddie away from the final plate of meatballs he was trying to finish.

“Eddie,” Venom hissed as they shuffled from their table. It looked like it had served ten people, instead of 3 and a symbiote.

“I’m not talking to you,” Eddie huffed as he navigated around the empty tightly packed tables.

“Married.” Anne snorted. “You are so married to your space tapeworm.”

“Ha.“ Eddie moved to shove a chair aside but Venom was faster, and the silent consideration made something warm and uncomfortable squirm in his chest despite their bickering. “Not for any love or money, lady.”

“Sure, okay. Face it, you love him, Brock.”

He wanted to laugh it off, he did, but as Venom wheedled him over a small egg shaped chair that the kids were spinning, the ever present feedback loop between them felt so bright, and soothing, like home, that he lost control of his legs and slammed into a wheeled metal tower packed with food trays and very nearly ended up coated in mashed potatoes and half eaten meatballs.

Fucking Christ. He did love the gooey asshole. When the fuck did that happen?

What was the cause of that embarrassment Eddie? Is another child harassing you?

“No, I’m love. Uh. Fine. V-friend.” He rubbed his chest absently. “Everything is fine.”

D’Annie exchanged glances, and then Anne winked at Venom, but that didn’t help either if the pulse of confusion he felt was any clue.

“…Interesting,” Venom rumbled, bemused, as they descended the stairs to the bowels of the store, where the pieces of their furniture and their new lives awaited them.

*

The total on the register made his bowels constrict, but he forked over his card and thanked the universe for having a kick ass lawyer for an ex as well as gainful employment. They had been living like broke college bums for months, working until they ran out of steam, and answering any and every question Annie had about the litigation against the Life Foundation, so the trip put a dent in his account, but they weren’t going to have to survive on bodega sandwiches chased by Pepto for the foreseeable future.

Dan was some kind of geometry master, and seemed to really get off on improbably fitting their couch and other miscellany into the car along with the humans (though if you had asked Eddie, he would have sworn it wasn’t possible).

He guessed that was why he wasn’t a doctor, and, while once upon a time not long ago that would have sent him right on down the familiar road of self loathing and feelings of failure, he was a changed man. Now he only felt a wry pang and a glimmer of happiness that Annie had found someone who wasn’t a narcissistic colossal fuck up.

Perhaps the self loathing wasn’t quite as distant as he fancied it, but he was still truly grateful for the help and her happiness.

Through all this musing and dubious mathematics, Venom was oddly silent, and by the time food had been ordered and eaten, their new couch was assembled, and Anne and Dan were saying their goodbyes, Eddie was kind of starting to freak out.

“You alright in there, big guy?”

I am. Venom pulsed beneath muscle and against bone, like a fat cat stretching after a nap. I’m just thinking.

“What about?”

I enjoyed our outing with Anne and Dan. That store is a bit over stimulating, but possesses many useful resources.

“They do,” Eddie agreed, as he shifted to pull something from the giant blue bag the store attendants had saddled them with. “Including this.”

He produced the egg shaped chair frame with a crooked grin.

Venom was quiet for a moment, then a quiet, “Eddie—“ They manifested, head smaller than usual, then tentacles darted out to begin assembling the chair. “Thank you. I have never received a gift before.”

Eddie’s eyes burned, but he spoke through the choked up feeling. “I figured maybe you can have your own little chair to entertain yourself in when I’m writing.” He smiled and passed pieces without a word out loud. “Instead of pissing me off and being pedantic about comma usage.”

“Not likely.” Venom narrowed their opalescent eye holes and grazed their teeth on his fingertips when he passed another piece. “But, I suppose it would be nice to take a break from arousing your performance anxiety now and then.”

Eddie felt his face settle into a darker, yet still warm expression. “I happen to know for a fact that performance anxiety is not what you arouse in me at all when I’m writing. “

“Maybe,” Venom agreed slyly, abandoning the assembly to slither across Eddie’s legs and settle heavily into Eddie’s thighs. “But I do enjoy this set up. The only thing I would say it was missing…” They fished around behind the couch and produced a box with a photo of a lamp printed on it. “…is proper lighting.”

The were getting each other gifts now. Like normal people…persons…couples. It was a bit much to contemplate, so Eddie opened the box and gingerly revealed a beautiful metallic sculpture with strategic outlets for bulbs and a cord. A few moments later and the ball lit up with warm soft light, which reflected nicely against the shiny metal.

“You mentioned that you were fascinated with space and space travel as a child. I thought I would get us something to remind us of where I came from, in a galaxy far, far away.”

Eddie snorted softly and tangled his fingers into the tendrils that made up Venom’s neck. “It’s beautiful.”

And it was, not so much because it did remind Eddie of spaceships or aliens, but because the warm glow of the lights and shine reminded Eddie of Venom’s eyes, and wasn’t that the most romantic drivel he’d thought in over a year? Definitely worse than the mooning. He whispered, ”I love it, V.”

He loved them, too. He loved them when they were a hulking, powerful shadow defending Mrs. C, when they were writhing together in pleasure like he had never known before, and them, the plucky little symbiote from a galaxy far away, who had crawled into his life and his heart during the darkest time of his life and took him at face value, made him whole.

Maybe one day he might even work up the nerve to tell them, provides they didn’t know already. But for tonight, they would have their quiet, their new stuff, and if he was really lucky, they would test out how well Dan had assembled the couch.

 

 

Notes:

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