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"We could regret this in later life! I totally know we will. We grew up together. We played like, catch. You remember that?" Peter's struggles are all verbal: he squirms back into his bro's arms for comfort. "We kept calling each other 'bro', didn't we? Doesn't that make... This."
Eddie's tongue is on his neck. Just resting there.
"You'll see that I'm totally poop in bed and you'll leave me and we'll never talk again."
Eddie's tongue moves up his neck... And retreats back in, for Eddie cannot yet throw his voice while sticking his tongue out.
"You've told me everything, I've told you everything. Trust us a little more?"
"But..." That soul patch still feels weird, but it's a good weird. He knows Eddie isn't that slimy, but this makes it feel that way, which is sexy in the worst way.
They don't fuck that night.
~
Eddie's first attempt is a little bit of a failure, in that Dr. Connors has not contacted him as TongueYourPits on Grindr in the hopes of the obvious, but had been wondering where the hell Eddie was going in the middle of the day and why the whiptail serum hadn't been prepared a week ago.
It had been, of course. Dr. Connors has now moved into an abandoned water treatment facility outside of town without telling anyone. In his rush to abandon all disgusting hairy hot-bloods, he hadn't realized his samples were still in his old lab. Eddie gets no action this night, but he does feed some well-sized rabbits to Dr. Connors and gets to play with the facility's mascot again: the corn snake they'd named Legal High.
~
Eddie's second through fourth attempts are no-shows with hazel hair. Fifth time is the charm, and he's a beautiful, short black man: but he's an undergrad in the same university. They have a coffee, add each other, 'network', and leave.
~
Peter hasn't felt this much energy since high school, after the bite.
Since high school, after Ben died, since Eddie started calling him 'little brother'.
He eats several sandwiches in a single sitting, and covers himself in his work. He has prepared his papers and gotten grades significantly better than before. He has stopped every arson for twenty blocks and literally no-one has been killed in those twenty blocks in two weeks.
He hears, 'hungry', 'us', 'stop'.
He hears, 'together'.
~
"Peter?"
He's not in again.
~
Dr. Connors analyses the webbing, provided with a thorough series of reports on the goings-on of his own laboratory by Eddie. (Whether or not the man in charge is now half goanna, they've got a deadline in a week.
"This isn't Peter'ssss normal web composition, Edward."
"It isn't, Curt?"
"No, this is protein. Do you actually sssssssee the boy these days?"
"...Is Peter in danger, Curt?"
"Answer the damn question, mammal."
"Yes, Curt, I see Peter in class."
"Corner him. This bruissse-coloured Spider-person either isssssn't Peter or Peter has grown glands to make this silk. It's almost as disgusting as those nozzles your females secrete nutrients into your children with."
~
"Peter..."
"Eddie, I'm ready. I'm ready, Eddie."
"Peter, you got home at 5."
"But I-"
"Peter, you haven't slept. You need to do that and you need to do that right now. You stopped Sin-Eater tonight and he'll never hurt anyone again because of you so I'm *proud* of you but let me just hold you and we'll call it a night."
"Together."
"How long have you known I'm --"
"Peter. It's me." Peter is under the sheets with him, but curled into a ball. Not as ideal for spooning as earlier, but it's still an adequate spoon. Like a teaspoon in a soup spoon. Like old times. Soup spoons don't have big, warm arms, though, or big, gentle hands, or voices that make you -- "And it's us. And I've got you. My little brother, who I'll always love and protect. I'm so proud of you." Peter's so fucking hard already.
"E-" Us. We. Just us.
"We're good, aren't we?"
"Of course we're good."
"I love you, Peter."
"I... I love you too?"
"Tell me what's happening with the new costume." Eddie is naked. Peter never changed out of his civvies but he's in his underwear. Eddie can feel it. Eddie knows -- what? What does Eddie know about it? "Your webbing was a silicate gel, now it's like five polypeptides, and I don't want my good, good boy turning into a spider when I might have a say in that."
"...I'm still getting used to you knowing I'm-"
"No, Peter. We're talking about this right now. You're going to breathe in -- hold it --"
Eddie had started hypnotising him in high school. Started as a joke.
"-- 'nd out. You're going to relax for me. You're going to talk to me, because we love each other."
The way he put it is really simple, the induction is very basic -- but after four hours of it, where Peter dozes off and doesn't sleep and feels things his underwear grows warm and clingy and antsy and delirious about, Eddie does manage to learn about the fissure that very underwear slithered out of.
~
"Megaphonesssss will lyse the skin bond. Or you could get him better earphones. In fact, I think half of 'Purple Rain' would do it. You know that, don't you? Princccce."
~
"Eddie, I... I was so inappropriate. I'm -- I'm not ready to just lose it right now, I wasn't telling the truth, I..."
"You were possessed by an alien symbiote that wanted your emotions. You feel very strongly about me, it seems." Eddie's hand is going up and down Peter's bare sides, and it feels good. He wants to apologise forever, but he wonders why, because the trust between them doesn't seem to have been at all affected.
"...Very."
"Spider-Man is resting tonight."
"Yes."
"Spider-Man has fallen into the dread clutches of mad scientist Post-Doc Dr. Brock, who is going to be putting him through the most uncanny tortures of his life, including ancient horror films and magic brownies."
"That fiend."
"We'll be naked."
"We will." Peter is undressing. It never used to take so much effort.
~
"Pe-terrr..."
"Mmmnh..." Arms all around him. Black and white circles.
"Sleep."
"Mmm-hmm."
"We're not brothers." Peter tenses inwardly: Eddie wraps his arms tighter around Peter. "We're... We're... You know. K and H." Peter, at this point, could just laugh, and relax, and flop down into sleep. But he still listens, because he's not sleeping, he's drifting: "You had Ben and May. I just had you. I needed you. I'll always need you. You're more than my family."
Eddie's hands on his stomach feel too big.
"You trust us, right?"
"Yeah..."
"We're good."
"We're all good. T-together," Eddie's tongue is around his neck.
~
Eddie's tongue is coiled in several wet, interlocking loops around his thighs -- the tip is over his hole, and circling over it, around, and around, and he's not even covered or bound in the rest of the black liquid, it just coils loosely over his body like some Spider-Slave-Leia chained to a Melanistic-Spider-Sarlacc.
"We are free... To do what we want to do," Eddie hums, his other's tongue finally slipping inside. "We are... We need a name."
Peter thinks of Eddie inside him: shooting, filling him. (Eddie's tongue slithers inside him, filling him.) Peter thinks of Eddie changing him from the inside just with one hot, wet injection.
"We are Venom, then." Eddie's smile down there, on his thigh -- the soul patch is going to --
He feels what Eddie feels. The other feeds it to him, as he presumably fed Peter's memories to Eddie. "Mmm-hm, little spider... He remembers. I remember. I know a little more now, don't I?" Eddie had held him and needed him. completely sincerely. Eddie told him he loved him out of a kind of love that seems remarkably well-considered, all things taken into account, because he loves Peter's -- compassion, his... Peter can't think through a lifetime of his friend's love being confirmed.
Nor can he think through this fixation Eddie's had on Peter's bare feet since they started rooming together. Peter is getting hard thinking about Eddie thinking about licking him.
The blue-black tendril collaring him has lifted to sway from side to side in front of his eyes. "Hel-looo?"
"Eddie..." Black and white circles.
Yellow rings...
"'I'm not like those so-called fair-weather friendsss of yours..."
Cyan rings...
"You can believe in me."
Eddie's voice. Both of them together, actually. The other is finding its own.
"Trusssst in me..." Peter panics, suddenly, as surely as he would if May guessed the password on the folder that couldn't be named: this fetish wasn't supposed to ever come out, even when Eddie actually had him brain dead and cultishly pliant, because there's too many ways they could take it the wrong way, and he starts to think of the first syllable of the other guy whose voice he hears, because there's a party and that cute guy Miles is outside, drinking outside the dorm door, but Peter's wrapped up, slowly, up to his neck, tightly, in a thick, smooth tentacle. He could get help.He's begun to smile open-mouthed before he can say anything more than 'm'.
"Just in me."