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lex-munro · 2 years

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[Glitter on the Wet Streets: Part 1] Shiver Stop Shivering

In another corner of the multiverse, the spell-triggered incursion happened a different way Eddie went to New York, saved Aunt May, got dumped for some Bambi-eyed kid, and ended up playing the roles of chaperone and mascot for said kid and his two misfit pals. A year later, the timeline is trying to get itself back to something resembling its cousins.

This is Chapter 1 of probably about 12 (I couldn’t tell you, because I am trash who can’t stick to a plan) of a Venom/MCU fic about the kids having adopted Human Trashfire Eddie Brock. Massive canon divergence, lol. Let’s have a rich MJ, the Hawkeye series set a year later instead of in the same year as NWH, some implied Loki shenanigans that lead to the trio taking a gap year working at a small-time newspaper.

I originally pictured Oscar Isaac as Rafael, but he nailed Moon Knight so well that I can’t picture him as anyone else in the MCU. So let’s go with Pedro Pascal, if you need a mental image.

Warnings: Canon divergent based on the MCU. Discussion of abusive relationships (both romantic and platonic) and recovery from abuse. Giant cats. Modern YouTube references. The Scheming Writers Club™ is inspired by my coworkers. Ensemble background OCs. Language: PG-13 (primetime tv plus s***, f***, and g**damn).

Pairing: None for this chapter, just background Peter/MJ and background Happy/May with past Eddie/Venom.

Timeline: A year after the events of No Way Home, but concurrent with the events of Hawkeye (told you it was canon divergent).

Disclaimer: I doesn’t owns the movies or the characters. Or the assorted objects of pop culture reference.

Shiver Stop Shivering

“I’m just saying,” Madison drawls as she waves the onion from her cocktail through the air. “It’s almost a year since your ex left, and six full months since you met Rafael, and he is so into you—”

“Oh my God,” Eddie groans.

“Super into you,” confirms Julio. “It’s sickeningly sweet. Even my má knows the saga of you two not really dating, and she’s never met either of you. She says it’s better than a telenovela.”

“That’s how much we all yap about you lovebirds,” Tanya agrees.

Eddie presses his palms together in a pleading pose and begs, “Guys, please, no matchmaking.”

“At the very least, bone the guy. The sexual tension is really starting to get unnerving. You said it was two bad break-ups of long-terms in a row—so maybe try something less committed.”

He feels his good-humored smile slip. “Yeah, nah, I’m…I’m not really wired that way. I need long-term.”

“Okay, so long-term him! Rafa likes all your dumb little quirks, and he’s a fan of your reporting, and he smiles like a fool when you start off on one of your righteous tangents. Take a chance. Use the Christmas break to plan the perfect first date, then completely scrap that, because it’s guaranteed to go adorably awry.”

“Fine. Hard maybe.”

They laugh and jeer. “That’s not a thing!” Tanya tells him, but they (mercifully) drop the subject.

~*~*~

An hour later, he’s walking home, enjoying the weather (light snow, not too cold or too humid) and thinking about Rafael, with his boy-next-door curls and his caramel skin and his twinkling eyes. Rafa is the first person (of any gender) that his writer pals have shoved at him who isn’t at least ten years younger than Eddie, so that’s a plus. He’s nice, and he’s smart, and when he edits Eddie’s shit, he’s gentle but firm. Also, when he grew a beard in November, he was seriously rocking some big DILF energy.

So yeah, it’s tempting. Real tempting.

But all he can think about is them getting somewhere good and stable, somewhere that makes him think it’s gonna last, and then getting dumped on his ass again for not being good enough. Sometimes it’s genuinely because of something he consciously chose to do, like when he put being right (and the associated ego boost) before Anne’s privacy, but a lot of times it’s either a flimsy excuse or something he can’t (or doesn’t know how to) change about himself.

Before Anne, the standard reason had been that he’s too pushy and takes too many risks. Against all odds, Venom fixed that; his writing team considers him shy and skittish.

It took them three tries to get him to come out drinking with them, but only two weekly hangouts to guess that he was recovering from the Worst Breakup Ever. After that, well…he got a little drunk and weepy and told them about ‘V,’ who was big and brash and impulsive and selfish and immature and amazing. He told them about rough starts and violent disagreements and two not-quite-breakups. He told them how doting V could be, and how V accepted more of his failings than anyone else had, and how V knew him inside and out (he didn’t tell them it was literal, though).

He told them how V had always said Eddie was perfect for him, and that they were meant for each other, and that they belonged together.

He told them how V had taken one look at some sweet little college freshman and just fucking left without a word (he didn’t mention how the kid was Spider-Man, because that would’ve raised some really weird questions).

He didn’t have to tell them that it left him in pieces, because they’d met him in the midst of Scotch-taping himself back together.

Clean up your act, get a job, pretend you know what ‘the Blip’ is, pretend you’re not from another universe where you’re a killer vigilante and a wanted criminal, pretend you know someone—anyone at all—besides three nosy kids and the asshole alien who dumped you for one of them.

He’s honestly always liked his chances here better than back home.

He takes a long breath. This version of New York is a little cleaner than the one he remembers, and a little safer thanks to all the metas running around. Maybe it’s not smart to still be in the habit of wandering through high crime areas like he’ll eat anybody who tries to stab him… But Hell’s Kitchen has sort of adopted him, and he did get saved by Daredevil the one time he got too drunk to defend himself (and boy, did Eddie’s bisexuality reassert itself very loudly when two gang members went flying and he was face-to-amazing-ass with the red-clad hero). Point being: maybe once a month, some kid will jump out and demand cash, then start stammering apologies when he sees it’s Eddie. He gets a lot of ‘sorry, man’ and ‘big fan of your stuff’ and ‘thanks for that piece about water quality in June.’

Anyway, it’s half past seven, so it’s not like he’s out late.

He’s passing an alley that’s darker than most, when a rasping voice says, “Eddie.”

His heart skips, and he stops walking. “Whattaya want, Parker? Your girlfriend got another scoop for me? Usually, she brings it herself, because she’s got the decency to—”

“Peter is asleep,” says the voice in the alley. “We wanted to talk to you, Eddie, and Peter thinks that would be inappropriate.”

Eddie barrels into the darkness and spits out, “You’re goddamn fucking right, it’s inappropriate! What the fuck could you ‘n I possibly have to talk about, huh? You left. All that shit about ‘we’ and ‘us’ and ‘perfect symbiosis,’ and you just fucking—”

“We—I am in love with Peter.”

Eddie makes a wounded sound before he can stop himself. “And why the fuck would I wanna know that?” he asks in a tiny, trembling voice. “You used to say you loved me, that we’d be together forever.”

“I do love you. You are my friend, Eddie—my best friend. And Peter doesn’t love us—me.”

So now Eddie feels put on the spot, like he fuckzoned somebody who was never into him.

Screw that noise—Venom was the one to turn their thing romantic, and Venom was the one to turn it sexual, too.

“Fuck. This isn’t fair, V. You can’t just show up after what you did and expect me to give—what, sympathy? Advice? I have a nice life now. I have a shitty little apartment and a half-decent job where the things I write help people, and a big stupid cuddly cat, and friends who helped me get over you, because it fucking destroyed me when you left. And you think you can just come back into my life like you didn’t completely wreck it, just because now we both know that I was in love with you and you weren’t in love with me, so somehow I’m supposed help you now that you’re in the same boat. Fuck you, V. I hope he keeps you for a nice, long time, so you can have all the fun of being right there and watching him not love you back.”

In the darkness, Venom hisses and says (rather sulkily), “You are a shitty friend, Eddie.”

Eddie feels like he just took a punch to the gut. “Well,” he says, and he doesn’t really care about how wet his eyes are or how shaky his voice still is. “You were a shitty, abusive boyfriend who abandoned me, so you don’t really deserve my friendship. Goodbye, V.”

And he just leaves. He’s not going to give Venom the satisfaction of a fight (he’d lose, even if he didn’t care whether he hurt Peter), and he’s sure as shit not going to be some shoulder to cry on.

He pulls out his phone and shoots a text to MJ.

tell ur bf his roommate has been joyriding while he’s asleep

As he approaches his building, he notices a crowd, and a strange light and—

Great. The fucking building is on fire.

“Eddie! Oh, che fortuna!”

The plump little nonna from the floor above waddles over with his stupid giant fluffy black cat. The damn thing is almost as big as she is.

“Mrs. DiPazzi, what happened?”

“Those tracksuit ragazzi showed up and started throwing Molotov cocktails at the loft next door! I thought they learned their lesson when Ronin was here after the Snap, but I guess they’ve forgotten what fear is. I hope one of those nice superheroes comes to teach them some manners. Here—Snowflake came to get me, grazie a Dio. I might not have known anything was wrong until I was trapped, and meeting a fireman is not worth the risk at my age.”

Snowflake complacently drapes his furry bulk around Eddie’s shoulders like a thirty-pound purring scarf with very little encouragement from Mrs. DiPazzi.

“What would I even do with a big strapping fireman—eh, Snowflake? Yes, such a good boy, saving my life like that… Oh, bene, my son is finally here! Take care of yourself, Eddie.”

“You too, Mrs. DiPazzi.” His phone buzzes.

MJ wow rude. did he do that 2 u 2?

He snorts.

prob so my apartment is currently burning down

His phone actually rings.

MJ would like you to join a video call

He snorts and hits the ‘accept’ button.

~“Like, literally on fire or—oh, never mind, it’s on TV.”~ The girl looks vaguely impressed. ~“Bummer. Well, I’ll text you the address.”~

“Address for what?”

~“My place, weeb. My dad’s out of town anyway, and your place is on fire.”~

“You have a dad? I thought somebody used black magic on a QAnon post and it came to life.”

~“That’s fair. But seriously, how many people do you actually know in our universe? And how many of those would loan out their guest room, indefinitely, for free, to a scruffy guy who occasionally talks to somebody who can’t hear him anymore?”~

“Now you’re just bein’ hurtful.”

~“Also, I want to meet Snowflake in person—hiii, sweeetieeee, pwecious foofy dummy!”~

Snowflake yawns at the phone.

~“Awww, wookit all doze widdle fangies!”~

“Gawd, stop. Thank you for offering me ‘n this big dumb furball a place to crash. We’ll head over soon as we can get a ride.”

~“No worries, dude; it’s Christmas. In fact, y’know, I’m gonna send Aunt May’s boyfriend to come pick you up; he’s gotta come get me for family ice skating anyway.”~

~*~*~

Thirty minutes later, he’s waiting at the corner when a nice black car pulls up.

“You Eddie?” the driver asks.

“That’s me. Sorry I smell like a bar and look like I’ve been crying about my ex in an apartment fire—I was at a bar and then I was crying about my ex when I saw my damn building on fire. This is Snowflake; I promise he’s harmless.”

“I’ve had worse passengers. Hop in, and we’ll get you guys to MJ’s place.”

Which is in fucking Central Park East, eighteen floors up.

“Oh my glob, hewwo fwuffy-wuffy!” MJ coos as soon as she opens the door. She squishes Snowflake’s face between her palms, to the cat’s extremely vocal approval. “Whatta big purr, whatta big purr!”

“You done yet?” Eddie asks.

She’s back to her blank, aloof self in half a second. “You look like shit. When I get back from family skate night with the Parkers and the Starks, we’re eating a gallon of ice cream and not talking about your ex. Lock the door, don’t answer for strangers from other dimensions, yadda yadda. Wifi password is ‘MJ is the Queen of all existence and everyone else is her slave 1.’ Capital Q, no spaces. Cat food and litter will be delivered in twenty minutes, no contact; just go down to the lobby and show them this—your new key card.” It has his name and photo on it, and her apartment number.

“You, uh…you work pretty fast, huh?”

“Double-teamed it with Ned. Benefits of having smart friends whose careers you don’t ruin with hacked emails. I recommend posting the apartment fire on your Insta; I’ll setup a GoFundMe tomorrow.”

And she shoves him into the apartment.

Something catches Snowflake’s attention, and he launches off Eddie’s shoulder—and when a thirty-pound monster of a Maine Coon launches unexpectedly, even a guy like Eddie can end up knocked on his ass.

“Ow, you damn traitor!”

Snowflake has discovered the Christmas tree. He’s just sitting at the bottom, staring up at it.

“Don’t even think about it,” Eddie warns. “Nothin’ll get us kicked out faster than your dumb ass climbing up that tree and wrecking it.”

Snowflake expresses his opinion of the situation with a raucous sneeze, then prances off to lounge in front of the fake fire (because of course the place has a heater shaped like a fucking fireplace).

There’s a note on the coffee table (next to an array of ‘conversation starter’ literature).

Eddie-spaghetti Guest room down the hall to the right, next door to guest bath. Linens and towels are fresh. Leftover vegan lasagna (shut up, I’m trying smthg) in fridge, pop the lid before heating. This remote is for the TV, or you can just talk to Alexa. Back by 10pm, we’ll talk then. MJ

He watches the really depressing news report about the apartment fire. He goes down to get Snowflake’s supplies (there’s even a pack of compostable litter trays, though the sheer size of the cat means it’s wisest to spread them out in a grid). Then he stretches out on the couch and continues his efforts to understand this universe’s YouTube stars. He ends up watching three videos about Victorian clothing, one critiquing the hypothetical efficacy of sexualized costume armor designs, one TikTok compilation about being the awkward oldest friend (it hits very close to home), two vids of humorously misheard lyrics, and has just started his second video of some soothing guy restoring old paintings when MJ gets home (Snowflake surfaces from his explorations to rub up against her knees).

“Julian Baumgartner,” she says approvingly. “High quality ASMR.”

“How was skating?”

“It was okay. Happy and Aunt May were sickeningly adorable. Pepper and Morgan were great, mostly because Morgan is a lot better at skating than the rest of us—literally skated circles around us. Peter was a little weird, even for him; seemed like the roommate was sulking.”

Snowflake seizes his usual spot, loafed on Eddie’s chest and purring (like Venom used to do, in fact).

“Yeah?” Eddie says in a petty tone. “Who cares? Fuck that guy. Selfish asshole…”

She perches on the edge of the coffee table and leans toward him. “Are you okay? Because I kind of thought you were more ‘over him’ than this. Didn’t I hear Julio saying just the other day how you and Rafael were totally on the brink of dating?”

Eddie focuses on petting his giant cat. “I am—we are. Just…when he hijacked Parker earlier, it was to come find me and tell me he’s in love with the kid. And what am I s’posed to do with that, right? ‘Hey, Eddie, I know you’re in love with me, but I’m in love with this other guy who’s younger, smarter, more ethical, and generally just better than you, but he doesn’t feel the same way, so I’m gonna cry to you about it since you’re my best friend.’ Can you believe that shit? Had the fuckin’ nerve to call me his ‘best friend’ after all the shit he’s pulled, all the tantrums, all the times he broke my shit or broke my bones or fixed me up just so he could hurt me again…after he took one look at Parker and just left even though he said we’d be together forever.”

MJ holds out a box of tissues, and Eddie realizes he’s been crying. He takes a handful and blows his nose, and his dumb cat puts a giant fuzzy paw on his face in a boop so epic it should be conveyed in all caps.

“You have kinda crappy taste in boyfriends,” says MJ. “But you have pretty good taste in cats. I’m gonna go get the ice cream and some spoons, and we’re gonna marathon some Nailed It International. The Mexican version is especially wholesome.”

.End.

#fanfic #CANON DIVERGENCE #Venom liked the MCU so I let him stay as a treat #Spidey trio here to Scooby Doo this shit #Eddie is the Jim Gordon to MJ's Batman #fandom: MCU #fic series: glitter (venom MCU)

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