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Weak sunlight falls through the window. Through it, a breeze tickles Eddie's skin.
"Close it, V," he says, gesturing to the window with a short jerk of his head.
I like it open.
"Yeah? I like it closed."
I like it open, they repeat, no room for argument in their voice.
Eddie's chuckle is low, hushed without meaning to be in the early afternoon quiet. The rough sound accompanies a shake of his head, a flitting thought that Venom always gets their way.
The tension he holds in the hard line of his shoulders— that he has held since Monday, when Anne first made her suggestion— loosens just enough.
Venom slithers across the floor. Stray sunlight touches their midnight-slick skin, glitters in soft shades of the rainbow like rays of light off an obsidian gem.
✴️
The hand at the base of his neck, the one fiddling with the knot of his tie as the other taps an unharmonious beat into his thigh, is covered in a thin sheen of moisture.
His suit jacket hangs too tight around his shoulders, his trousers too loose.
The closer the cab inches to the restaurant, the less calm Eddie realizes he is.
What's wrong, Eddie? Venom pokes their head out from the collar of Eddie's shirt and speaks into his ear.
"Nothing, sweetheart," Eddie says with an slow shake of his head.
Doesn't sound like nothing.
Eddie runs a hand through his hair, cropped and fighting to fall in his eyes.
He has never been one to shame easily; his anxieties are born more of worry for others than for his own humiliation.
"The last time," he begins uncertainly, swallowing a small laugh. "The last time we were in a really fancy restaurant things didn't go so well, you remember."
Even to his own ears, it is an understatement.
The tip of Venom's nose bumps against the curve of Eddie's neck. We'll behave today, they say. After a pause they murmur a quiet, Promise.
"Yeah. You better." Eddie notices the driver throwing weary glances at him through the rearview mirror and tries to further lower his voice. "I don't need Anne and Dan thinking we're weird… Weirder."
Venom's laugh, the gently hushed thing that it is, sends a shivers along the curve of Eddie's spine. Vibrates through him before Venom slips back under the neck of his shirt.
The cab driver meets Eddie's gaze, promptly looks away.
He clears his throat loudly, the awkwardness of the last half hour written into each inch of his face.
"Acquerello?" the cab driver checks, his query cracking at the end.
He waits for the answering nod. When he pulls to the curb it is just long enough for Eddie to jump out; is gone barely before Eddie pays the fare.
Most people don't often take kindly to a man who seems to be talking to himself.
Used to it, neither Venom nor Eddie are too surprised at the reaction.
For a second, Eddie forgets he isn't wearing his old denim jacket and goes to shove his hands into the familiar deep pockets.
"Well..." he breathes out. On a pause, he takes a look around.
The restaurant's front is all wide and clear windows framed in rich black panes.
Gentle fairy lights drape over trellises leading to the front steps— they twine with the roses and their thorns, flood the road in delicate beams. Settle over a coat-bundled pair standing to the side of Acquerello's entrance.
What now? Venom asks. Not too loving of the cold, they have gone back to hiding along the collar of Eddie's shirt. Is Anne here?
"Fond of her, huh?"
She smells better than you do, they snipe back. And you should ask her what's her skincare routine.
Eddie grants a quiet scoff in reply as he makes his way down the short path. "I have a skincare routine," he mutters. "I just… forget."
He nears the frost-covered steps and the couple swivel their heads in strange unison, spot him at the same time.
The woman, her stark blonde hair pulled into a loose French braid, raises a hand in a slow wave.
Anne and Dan, sleek in their matching Winter coats and boots, seamlessly fit into places like Acquerello.
Not Eddie though, at least, not that easily.
“The system crashed,” Anne walks forward and explains, greeting Eddie with a quick hug and quicker kiss to his cheek, “They're saying they can't find our reservation.”
“Oh no,” Eddie exhales, hoping his relief isn't too obviously written on his face.
Anne raises her eyebrows, casts a thin-lipped and sharp-eyed gaze over Eddie. Nothing makes its way past her.
Sorry, he mouths, granting an awkward shrug before being pulled into Dan’s heavy hug.
“It's nice to see you all dressed up, ” Dan notes, holding Eddie an arms-length away and taking in the pale buttoned-up shirt tucked into slim-cut trousers. “We were scared you'd show up in sneakers and sweats.”
“Terrified is a better word,” Anne adds on the end of a gentle laugh.
“Ha ha,” Eddie affects with a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, okay, let's all make fun of Eddie Brock. ”
“Well—” Anne meets Eddie's eye with a smile, smug and brimming over with barely kempt giggles. “If you insist.”
Delicate laughter tinkles from the restaurant, a peaceful companion to the touching together of champagne glasses.
Eddie raises a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Where to now?” he asks.
“We saw there's a circus in town— A carnival?” curiously peering over Eddie's shoulder, Dan tells him. In almost the same breath, he continues, “Hey. Where's the little guy?”
Here— Venom answers in an overexcited rush. Without warning they pop their head out from Eddie's collar, a wide smile playing across their face. What's a—
Dan’s laugh, falling with sudden startle and cutting Venom off, is loud in the relative silence.
“Hey, V,” Anne greets, all warmth.
Venom stretches to plant a kiss on her cheek. One Anne leans forward and readily accepts.
What's a carnival? Venom asks, curiosity piqued.
“It's, y’know, a place with performers and booths and stuff,” Eddie gestures weakly with his hands as he attempts to explain. “Like a circus,” he ends lamely.
Anne nods. “We should go,” she says, decision made, “I mean, we're already dressed for a night out on the town, it'd be a shame to put it to waste.”
“And how often do we get to be in the company of a well-groomed Eddie Brock?” Dan adds.
✴️
The noise is the first thing Venom notices. An amalgam of sounds; a raucous, melodious cacophony of music and excited crowds.
They poke their head out from the collar of Eddie's shirt and look around.
Anne and Dan walk ahead of them. Holding hands and leaning into each other, whispering into each other's ears as they lead the group to the nearest stall.
Each of the stall’s tables is laden with a variety of food.
The sight of the spread, the almost enticing aroma, is all too quick to remind Eddie that the last meal he had was before lunch.
As if on cue, his stomach growls.
“What are you guys having?” leaning across Dan, Anne asks with a slight frown.
He skates his gaze over the selection, glances over the bold yellow menu. “Just corndogs looks fine,” Eddie says, reaching to pull out his wallet.
One of everything, Venom nods earnestly at Anne and interjects.
“Ignore them.” A roll of Eddie's eyes, a shake of his head. “Just the corndogs.”
Dick.
✴️
At first, Venom is hesitant.
Eyes wide, they stare in a strange awe at everything around them.
The flashing lights, the hugely muscled men lifting weights and people in the middle of a cordoned ring, the pair of bearded woman performing an upbeat duet.
Is it always like this? Venom asks in Eddie's ear, trying to keep his voice low.
“No,” Eddie answers. He scratches absently at the back of his neck. “Different carnivals are different.”
“You don't say,” Anne teasingly muses.
Leaning against the side of an empty ticket booth, one leg casually crossed over the other, she grants Eddie a large grin.
The look on her face, so smug, it's enough for Eddie to roll his eyes.
“What don't we say?” Red and white striped paper bags, overflowing with fresh made popcorn, Dan sidles into the conversation.
“Oh, you know—” Anne’s chuckle cuts herself off.
“What?” Eddie swiftly exclaims. He jostles into Anne's side lightly with his own. “Different carnivals are different!”
✴️
Almost aimlessly, they wander from booth to booth.
Win us a teddy bear? Venom prods when the group passes a games booth, one with a row of heavy balls lining the table and two rows of milk jugs stacked near the back wall. The biggest one.
“Huh… Sure…” Eddie slowly agrees, rocking forward on the balls of his feet.
The shot is a tricky one, the jugs stubbornly refusing to be knocked out of place.
After three tries, and enough frustrated cussing for the father in line after him to angrily escort his children to the next booth over, Eddie points out the largest bear on the shelf to walk away with.
Thanks, loser, they say.
Venom grabs at it happily, plants a jagged line of small kisses down the curve of Eddie's neck.
✴️
Conversation is easy between the four of them; laughter even easier.
They are the only adults in the queue for face-paint that Dan drags them to, muted excitement behind his eyes.
“Come on,” he had urged, “How often do we get to just act like kids?”
By the end of the night, their faces shaded in brilliant design and colour, they are burdened with armfuls of prizes and rolls of pictures Anne insisted they take.
Exhausted, they lean heavily into each other, chattering and stumbling.
“You guys need a ride home?” Anne asks, outside her car after goodnight hugs and kisses are shared.
Eddie shrugs. “We'll catch a cab, it's not a problem.”
We must do this again, Venom adds, quickly before the couples part. Have another date night.
“Sure thing, little guy,” Dan smiles and agrees.
✴️
“Did you really have fun?” Eddie questions Venom around a yawn, a bit louder than his usual whisper.
This is how they know Eddie is tired: he doesn't care about the cab driver thinking he is talking to himself.
He rolls his shoulders back and Venom notices the tension he had carried in them is gone.
Under their breath, Venom hums their answer. Yeah, they say softly and after a moment, pop a small kiss to the underside of Eddie's stubbled chin.
He chuckles sweetly. “That's good, love.”