Coping (SymBrock POV)

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*WARNING - MENTIONS OF SEX & SELF INJURY - (CONTAINS INAPPROPRIATE LANGUAGE)



"Trust me," Eddie said, laughing. "If I knew that I would end up spending all my money on Tater Tots and chocolate, I wouldn't have let them stay."

Anne laughed, too, before telling Dan what he had just said.

'You get on top of those cravings, Ven,' Dan called out, a smile in his voice. 'Don't want Eddie to get diabetes.'

"He says 'Fuck off, we eat what we want'," Eddie smirked, pulling the phone away from his ear when Dan shouted out in his defense. "Anyway, I'm doing a lot better, so I'll leave you two be."

'It was good to hear from you, Eddie Brock,' Anne said quietly, her tone loving.

"It was good speaking to you Annie," he replied affectionately. "You keep your man in check, and I'll keep mine out of trouble."

She laughed again, and then hung up.

Eddie looked down at his phone, smiling. He missed them, but he was enjoying his time in New York. It had been three weeks since they found the cameras in their room, and they were used to it now. They'd taken his blades, so he and Venom had come up with a new outlet.

Sex.

Not with Venom, because that would reveal the alien to whoever was watching them. No, with random strangers from random bars around the city. Girls, guys, both, and everything in between. He wasn't picky, and Venom didn't care. He missed being intimate with Venom, but he had learnt to adjust. He also missed the cutting. But, he would admit that he defiantly got more satisfaction out of meaningless hookups, than he did out of making himself bleed.

It was difficult to find people who weren't repulsed by his scars, though. He was getting used to people walking out halfway through getting undressed.

"He looks yummy," Venom growled, directing Eddie's eyes to a man sitting at the bar with two empty glasses in front of him. "I mean, I would blow him. I wouldn't eat him. Looks too innocent."

"Thanks, V," Eddie replied sarcastically, standing up. "Let's go say 'hi'."    

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