fic: Threads | The Social Network | Part One
Masterpost | Art by eiirene | Art by lovesletyoudown | Art and Fanmix by sweetmadness379
Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Epilogue
Five Years Later
"Shove over a little bit," Eduardo murmurs, hip nudging into Mark's side as he reaches up for a mug. Mark moves over, snatching his plate up and grabbing the Pop-Tart as it comes out of the toaster. He sits at the kitchen table, back to the window and one foot tucked under him. Eduardo finishes making his bagel and sits in his own chair across from Mark, smiling at him before he pulls up his phone and reads his emails. Mark stares sightlessly at the refrigerator door. He's tired. He'd stayed up too late - Eduardo had scolded him before he went to bed himself, warning him not to, and Mark had nodded with every intention of obeying and then stayed up until five a.m. anyway.
"Here," Eduardo says without looking up from his phone. He pushes his mug across the table. "Drink the coffee. I know you hate it, but since we're out of Red Bull, I don't want you crashing on your way to the office."
Mark grimaces but takes it. At least Eduardo drinks his coffee with half a cup of sugar. If Mark ignores the smell, it almost tastes like Red Bull.
Eduardo eats quickly and gets up to put his plate in the dishwasher. He takes Mark's too, because Mark had finished his Pop-Tart some time ago without noticing. He's more tired than he thought.
"Go upstairs and get dressed, it'll wake you up," Eduardo says. "I've got to go."
He's already dressed. He gets showered and dressed every morning before he comes down for breakfast. He's actually running late today: he usually gets up and out of the house by eight, so he's home by five or six. Mark sometimes won't leave until nine or ten or eleven, and then he'll stay until ten or eleven at night. But never past eleven, because at eleven Eduardo comes and drags him out whether he likes it or not. Just because, once, Mark accidentally fell asleep in his car and slept in the parking lot all night.
"Mark," Eduardo says, coming around the table to Mark's side. He wraps his arm around Mark's shoulders and leans down, pressing a kiss to Mark's temple. "I've got that meeting with the lawyers today, so I probably won't be in until after lunch. I'll stop in to check on you."
"I'm fine," Mark grumbles.
Eduardo steps away, grabbing his keys off the counter. "I want to make sure you haven't fallen asleep on your keyboard," he says.
"Bye," Mark says as Eduardo leaves the kitchen.
"Goodbye," Eduardo says. Mark can hear the front door open and the beep of Eduardo's car unlocking. "See you later."
The front door shuts with a firm click and Mark yawns and drains the last of Eduardo's disgusting cup of coffee and then lays his head down on the table. He's so tired.
---
Chris is already in because he's like Eduardo: arrives early, leaves early, likes to pretend he has a normal life. Dustin isn't in yet, because he's like Mark but without the Eduardo to keep him on schedule.
Mark takes advantage of having an assistant who's paid to obey him and sends her out for four packs of Red Bull. She eyes him warily until Mark grits his teeth and explains that they're out at home.
It takes half an hour for the Red Bull to arrive. They used to stock it in the vending machines until too many of the employees had gone on a health kick all at the same time, and Chris had caved to pressure and removed anything stronger than soda and fruit juice from the machines.
In the meantime, Mark sits down and starts pulling up all the code he's been sent in the last couple of days. He needs to approve it, and there's still one aspect he's not sure he wants to implement at all but he'd compromised with the team that developed it by promising to look at it in action before deciding.
Dustin pokes his head in shortly after, ostensibly to say good morning but really to steal some of Mark's Red Bull. It would've been less obvious if he hadn't sat in front of the case, talked nonsense for two minutes, and then walked out with two cans held behind his back in plain view, but Mark isn't going to say anything. Dustin always steals his shit. There's no point arguing now.
Chris has been walking past Mark all day, occasionally waving at him, but the next time he wanders by, he taps on Mark's shoulder and leans against the edge of the desk.
"Yeah," Mark says.
"I need to talk to you and Eduardo at lunch today," Chris says. "Will you be around or do I need to meet you guys somewhere?"
"He'll come back from the lawyers," Mark says. "Text him if you want him to bring you food."
"Our cafeteria is more than adequate," Chris says wryly. "But thanks."
"We always eat here," Mark says, "I don't know why you insist on telling me every time you need to talk to us."
"Because I don't want you sneaking off on your lunch break to have sex in a closet," Chris says. "At least not on the days I need to talk to you."
"Yes, funny," Mark says, and Chris goes back to whatever he was doing a minute ago. Mark doesn't know why, five years later, everyone insists on making the married jokes. The first couple of months, sure, it was fair game. Mark and Eduardo are married, how's the sex life, gonna adopt any kids yet? All of that was the price they paid, and Mark hadn't even minded that much - there were so many other things going on with Facebook he didn't even notice most of it. Chris and Eduardo dealt with all the serious fallout from the two founders of the largest up-and-coming site being not just partners but partners, and Mark really only had to deal with Dustin and Sean's bad senses of humor.
It's been five years but still, every once in a while, someone thinks it's funny to bring it back up. It's started annoying Mark more and more as time passes, though he's not sure why; he chalks it up to the repetitive nature of the jokes.
Eduardo shows up a little while later, dropping a burrito by Mark's elbow and pulling one of the extra chairs over to sit next to him. It means Mark will end up with twice the amount of lettuce pieces littering his keyboard, but he's used to it.
"Hey," Eduardo says. "So the lawyers are fine with everything, so far. That doesn't necessarily mean anything, but they'll need more time to look at the contracts in more depth."
"Okay," Mark says. He throws away an empty can and opens another. When he looks back over, Eduardo is watching his burrito with an absent gaze. "What?" Mark says.
"Hm?" Eduardo says, jerking his gaze up.
"What's wrong?" Mark says.
"Oh," Eduardo says. "Nothing. I just have something I need to ask you."
"Yeah?" Mark says. "What?"
"Well," Eduardo says, and moves his chair closer. He puts his elbow on the edge of the desk and looks earnestly at Mark.
"If this is going to take a while, you should know that Chris is going to come by soon to talk to you about something," Mark says.
"Me?" Eduardo says.
"He said us," Mark says, rolling his eyes.
Eduardo smiles a little.
Chris always asks to talk to both of them, but what that means is he needs Mark's signature or presence for something but actually wants Eduardo's input. Mark was annoyed by it for a while, until he was forced to admit that Eduardo's input on the things Chris wanted it for was usually more valuable than Mark's, so Chris was right. But Mark is still a little annoyed by the fact that he's required to be around at all - Eduardo has been forging his signature for years. There's no real reason for Mark's presence besides Chris's bizarre dislike for minor fraud.
When Chris arrives, he brings sushi for lunch. Eduardo immediately appropriates it. He has the decency to look guiltily at Chris but not enough decency to keep his hands on his own food. Chris smiles mildly and pulls another tray of sushi out of the lunch bag. Mark takes the remaining half of Eduardo's burrito.
"Alright," Chris says, and launches into an explanation of a complaint about a small group of people in HR he received. Mark immediately tunes him out, tapping at his keyboard to wake his computer back up. Eduardo nudges his leg every once in a while when he actually needs to pay attention, so Mark gets the salient points in between scanning the bug report for an official app that keeps crashing.
It takes almost half an hour for Chris to finish discussing the problem with HR, and then he passes over a sheaf of papers. Everything Eduardo had said had agreed with his own opinions on things, apparently, and he just needs Mark and Eduardo's signatures.
Because, for all the authority Eduardo, Chris, and Dustin have, Mark still has oversight on who gets fired, especially when it's a couple of Vice Presidents. Eduardo has to be kept apprised because he keeps track of everything Mark might need to know, and he's also going to have to deal with additional paperwork involving things like severance packages, which Mark still doesn't understand. Eduardo has explained them a couple of times, and now he just rolls his eyes when Mark demands to know why they hire people with six months of guaranteed pay built in if they turn out to be shit at their jobs.
Dustin wanders by after that and steals what little remains of Chris's sushi, and then he dares Mark to eat the rest of Eduardo's wasabi and Mark does, because he can drink his Red Bull right after and he still enjoys making Dustin chortle like that sometimes. Chris and Eduardo's disgusted faces are just bonuses.
"Go away," Mark says finally, because Chris is looking busy again and Eduardo has been doing nothing for ten minutes - which is about his limit for inactivity when he's "working" - and Mark wants Dustin to leave when they do.
"Fine, fine," Dustin says, holding up his hands, and then he steals another couple of cans of Mark's Red Bull.
"He better not be drinking all that," Chris says, watching him go. "His heart will explode."
"That's a myth," Mark says.
"Even if it isn't, he'll be fine," Eduardo says.
"I've been trying not to drink that much caffeine," Chris says. "Sean doesn't drink any."
Mark rolls his eyes. "Yes, you've told us."
Chris looks put-upon. "I may annoy you now, but the way you inhale it, you'll have ulcers when you're forty."
"Plenty of people have ulcers at forty even if they don't drink caffeine," Mark says.
"Thirty, then," Chris says, unwilling to relinquish his point.
"Oh, come on, with the lack of sleep he gets, he'll be lucky to make thirty," Eduardo says.
"Thanks, very helpful," Mark says.
Eduardo grins and nudges their knees together.
Chris stands. "Wardo, I'll send the rest of those pages to your office."
"Yeah," Eduardo says.
"Oh! Before I forget," Chris says suddenly, stopping and looking at them again. "Dustin was supposed to tell you but I think he's forgotten. Sean is back in town. He's asked us to meet him for dinner."
Mark frowns. "Why didn't he text me?"
"He probably thinks you're still angry at him," Chris says.
"Probably, or does?" Eduardo asks dryly.
"Does," Chris says. "He texted me to ask if Mark was still mad."
"He's served his rehab and probation, so why would I be?" Mark asks.
"Most people would be," Eduardo says. "You would be if you didn't have an exception clause a mile long when it comes to Sean."
Eduardo is still angry, but that's nothing new. Eduardo's default state is angry when it comes to Sean. Mark's isn't. He also doesn't make any exceptions for Sean; he just has a realistic conception of Sean's expected behavior, and there doesn't seem to be much point to punishing him for who he is. Who he is was very helpful at one point.
"So we're meeting him for dinner," Mark says. "All of us?"
"You and Dustin at least," Chris says. "I'll probably come, but only if I can bring Sean. They ought to meet each other."
"I'm sure they'll both love it," Eduardo says.
"But yeah, the email Dustin forwarded to me invites your wife, too," Chris continues.
Another marriage joke. Mark frowns.
"He's still calling me Mark's wife?" Eduardo says.
"Some things never change," Chris says. He takes a step away from the desk, clearly trying to hurry the conversation along.
"Asshole," Eduardo says.
"Some things never change," Mark repeats, nodding at Chris in agreement. Chris's mouth twitches.
Eduardo slaps at Mark's knee lightly. "No, it won't change, because I'm going to continue thinking he's an asshole so long as he keeps acting like one."
"I don't understand why it upsets you," Mark says. "You're obviously my wife."
"If you two are through," Chris says, probably saving Mark's sanity for the next week - it's amazing how Sean gets him into these situations even when he's not around, and yes, Mark will always blame these things on Sean - but shaking his head at them both. "Just let me know by the end of the day so I can confirm how many people for the reservation."
"I'm not going," Eduardo says. "I've got plans anyway."
Mark looks at him. Eduardo actually appears to be telling the truth, though it's unusual for him to have plans that Mark isn't involved in and knows nothing about.
"Okay," Chris says. "Mark?"
"Yeah, I'm coming," Mark says, and as Chris leaves, asks Eduardo, "What are you doing?"
"Well, right now I've got to go," Eduardo says. "I'll talk to you tonight, okay?"
"Fine," Mark says.
Eduardo leans forward and kisses the top of his head. "Have a good rest of the day, honey," he says, obnoxious, and Mark slaps at him. "Don't get pissy at me," Eduardo says, avoiding him deftly and smirking. "You started it."
"Sean started it," Mark mutters, but Eduardo only snorts and keeps walking away.
---
The restaurant is some horribly trendy place downtown, just opened, shiny and bright and perfectly Sean's pace.
Chris left the offices a little early to pick up his Sean, but they still beat Mark and Dustin there. Even Dustin beats Mark there, though he only left the building five minutes earlier.
There's a split second where there's a potential for awkwardness, and then Mark remembers this is Sean. "Hey," he says, and Sean pulls him into a hug that feels more like a headlock.
"Hey," Sean says back, and, "How's the spouse?"
"Fine," Mark says. "He had plans."
"I bet," Sean says.
"He really did," Mark says, frowning. He'd had to resist the urge to tap into Eduardo's GPS and see where he was tonight. It's not often Eduardo won't tell him things, and Mark doesn't handle curiosity well. He isn't a patient person.
"You two okay?" Sean asks.
"Yes," Mark says. "I just said we're both fine."
"No, I meant-yeah, cool," Sean says. "So what do you really think of Chris's dude, huh? Dustin seems to like him."
"He's nice," Mark says, because that's about the extent of his opinion. He is nice, and he makes Chris happy, and Dustin and Eduardo both like him, which means he must be fine. They couldn't both read him wrong. And when Mark's mother came out to visit, she'd given them her blessing - multiple times, even, and none of them warranted. So Mark has decided he likes Sean.
He prefers his Sean, of course, but that's to be expected. "How are you?" he asks.
"Don't even think about it," Sean says. "You don't do caring well. It'll be painful for everyone involved. Let's see about getting our table, huh?"
The rest of the night passes in a blur of Sean, his loud voice and loud stories and loud personality. Chris's Sean seems to like him, Mark thinks, which is good. If he hadn't, Mark is under no delusions, they wouldn't be able to convince Chris to come out with them ever again.
It turns out Sean isn't supposed to drink much, since part of the rehab from the drugs was rehab from all drugs, but that doesn't stop Sean from buying them all drinks and pressing them into Mark's hands with an insistence Mark is out of practice fighting off. By the time dessert comes - another characteristic of dinner with Sean; Mark doesn't even like dessert - Mark is yawning into the half-empty glasses in front of him and about to beg for a reprieve.
"Guess we better get you home, then," Sean is saying what seems like seconds later. "Before you fall completely asleep at the table and the missus kills us both."
"He'd just kill you," Mark says blearily, and lets himself be put in Sean's car.
"Chris and his missus said they'd drive your car to your house later," Sean says on the way, and Mark nods and lets his head thunk heavily against the window.
"I'm glad you're back," he says.
He gets dropped off with a couple condescending catcalls from Sean about sleeping tight, which Sean may be trying to turn into bad sex puns, but Mark isn't listening. The door is locked when he gets up to it and he frowns, rattling it a few times before patting his pockets. He gets his keys out but before he has to bother trying to get it in the lock, the door swings open to reveal a sleepy Eduardo.
Looking past him, Mark sees the characteristic pile of three to six blankets Eduardo always uses to ensconce himself on the couch, because they live in California and Mark likes to keep the thermostat at seventy-two degrees while Eduardo freezes at anything below eighty. The clock in the car had said almost two a.m. Mark frowns. "Were you waiting up for me?"
"Yeah," Eduardo says. "I have to talk to you, remember?"
"Hm," Mark says agreeably, and leans forward to push his face into Eduardo's shoulder so Eduardo won't see him yawn. "About what?"
One of Eduardo's hands settles lightly on Mark's neck, sliding higher up and squeezing when Mark doesn't push him off. "It can wait until you're not drunk."
"Hm," Mark says again, and lets Eduardo do more work than is strictly necessary to pull him into the house and get him upstairs. He drops Mark back onto his neatly made bed - their housekeeper comes Mondays and Thursdays - and Mark stares up at the ceiling past Eduardo's shadowed face. "You should've come."
"Sorry," Eduardo says. He disappears from Mark's view as he drops down to pull off Mark's shoes. "I'm still not Sean's biggest fan."
"I know," Mark says. Eduardo reappears. "Hello," Mark says, and then thinks he may have to reconsider how drunk he is.
Eduardo's face folds into a smile and his hand comes back to Mark's head, brushing some hair off Mark's forehead. "Hi," he says. "Get in bed."
Mark sits upright and pulls his hoodie off. Eduardo pulls the covers down from underneath the pillows and puts a hand on Mark's back to push him up towards them.
"Talk to me tomorrow," Mark says.
"Yeah," Eduardo says. "Goodnight."
Mark wants to ask Eduardo to stay and talk to him until he falls asleep, because Eduardo will do that sometimes - though, admittedly, that works best when Eduardo is also drunk, and he isn't right now - but Eduardo looks too tired and he's usually got an earlier bedtime than Mark. Mark pats at his shoulder and rolls over. He stays awake just long enough to hear Eduardo close the bedroom door behind himself.
---
Eduardo has already left by the time Mark gets up the next morning. He'd turned off Mark's alarm, and Mark doesn't get up until almost eleven. He gets into the office around noon, which means he hasn't even started working when Eduardo shows up with salads.
Mark makes a face. Eduardo shoves it at him anyway. Mark relents and takes it, because delivered salad, however unappetizing, is more appealing than getting up and getting his own.
"So," Mark says. Eduardo pulls the lids off both their lunch containers and hands Mark a plastic fork.
"Yeah," Eduardo says. He looks uncomfortable. To compensate, he shoves too much lettuce into his mouth.
"What is it?" Mark asks. He pokes at the pile of carrots underneath the pile of dressing, spreading things around a bit. "You said everything was fine with the lawyers."
"No, it's not about Facebook," Eduardo says. He swallows a couple of times and sets his salad and fork down, leaning towards Mark.
"Okay," Mark says slowly, narrowing his eyes.
Eduardo smiles and says, "I think it's time we got a divorce."
Mark stares at him uncomprehendingly.
"Mark," Eduardo says after a few moments, shifting in his seat, and some of the attempt at bright normalcy in his expression fades, tampering down to a level Mark can begin to reconcile with this turn of events. It wouldn't be fair for Eduardo to ruin the foundation of the last five years of his life and smile while doing it.
"You want a divorce," Mark says. "Why?"
Eduardo's brow starts to furrow. "I-it's been more than long enough. There's no reason to stay-"
"Married the way we have been for the last five years, which was much longer than you ever needed?" Mark says, and repeats, "Why?" and he really means why now?
"I've met someone," Eduardo admits quietly, looking simultaneously pleased and sheepish while he finishes pulling Mark's world down around his ears.
Mark nods, then shakes his head, and finally he stands up and walks past Eduardo wordlessly.
"Mark?" Eduardo says.
"I have to-" Mark says, waving, and goes looking for Dustin.
Dustin is easily found, cuddled up with some interns while they plot out some undoubtedly stupid plan, and he lets Mark pull him away with a minimum of fuss, which turns into no fuss at all as soon as he gets a good look at Mark's face.
Mark locks them in one of the oft-unused back offices, a nice, solid wood door between them and the rest of the world, and then sits down at the table. Dustin, after a moment, does the same.
Mark says, "Eduardo is seeing someone and he wants a divorce," which isn't the proper order of that news, but it's not like the message is different.
Dustin starts shrieking, and Mark sits back, a little relieved, because yeah, that seems like the sentiment he was looking to convey.
---
Some things never change, so after Dustin gets done having a minor mental breakdown and finally believes Mark when he says he doesn't have any extra information he's withholding, he smuggles Mark out of the room and to Chris's office, where he can demand Chris's attention with an absolute guarantee of privacy.
Chris isn't entirely pleased about being pulled away from work, but he hears something convincing in Dustin's tone - probably the hysteria, which Mark, as comforting as it was at first, is beginning to get a little tired of - and he clears his schedule for the next half hour with no explanation at all.
As soon as Chris gestures permission to speak, Dustin blurts out what Mark told him. Chris blinks, expression frozen, then turns to Mark and says, "I'm sorry, what happened?"
Mark frowns. "Eduardo came in for lunch today and said he wanted a divorce. When I made him tell me why, he said he's met someone."
"Eduardo," Chris says, in a tone of deep skepticism, "has met someone."
"Yes," Mark says.
Chris turns to Dustin. "Eduardo," he says.
"I know!" Dustin says, twitching forward in disapproval.
"Someone else," Chris says.
This time, Dustin nearly comes out of his chair. "I know!"
"Excuse me," Mark says, irritated.
"Sorry," Chris says. "It's just a little hard to believe. If you didn't look so-" and here Chris gestures at Mark's face, though Mark isn't sure what that's supposed to mean- "I wouldn't believe it."
Mark huffs.
"Look, I'm sorry," Chris says, coming around his desk. He sits on the side nearest Mark and leans forward. "Just tell me what happened. We'll figure something out."
"I told you," Mark says, frowning. "He came in for-"
"That's not what I mean," Chris says. "Why did he want the divorce?"
Mark grits his teeth, but he knows shock can make people slow. "He said he's-"
"I mean what caused it!" Chris says, looking exasperated. "These things don't come out of nowhere. There had to have been signs. Have you two fought? Has he been more distant lately? I haven't noticed anything, but-"
"Me neither," Dustin pipes up helpfully, before shutting up again at the look Chris gives him.
"We wouldn't necessarily notice anything. You're hard to read and Eduardo's a good actor."
"Obviously," Mark mutters, feeling bitter, "if he's been seeing someone." He can't understand where Eduardo would find the time, never mind where Eduardo could've met anyone.
Chris looks at him with something suspiciously close to pity. "You must've noticed something, right? Even if you don't want to tell us, has anything been different?"
"No," Mark says.
"No fights?" Chris asks.
"No," Mark says, then appends, "Well, we argue sometimes." But they've argued for years; it's normal.
"What about-" Chris says, trailing off awkwardly. He clasps his hands together in his lap, looking down at them.
"What?" Mark says.
"Well, if he's started seeing someone, he must be getting something from them he feels he isn't getting from you," Chris says. He's looking very closely at his thumbs.
Mark stares at him blankly.
Dustin makes a rude noise. "Oh, for-Chris was trying to ask about your sex life."
Mark scowls at Dustin, and when he only holds up his hands placatingly and Chris says, "It's important!" Mark scowls harder.
"Fuck you," he says. "You're making jokes about that now?"
"A healthy sex life isn't a joke," Chris says, in his earnest voice, and Mark honestly thought he was better than this.
"Yes, Eduardo and I are married, look at all the sex we're having this is hilarious and still makes for wonderful jokes five years later, but do you think we can talk about the part where Eduardo wants to leave?" Mark snarls.
"Mark," Chris says, then opens and shuts his mouth a few times. "Mark, I'm being completely serious, so I need an honest answer: do you and Eduardo sleep together?"
"No," Mark says. "Of course not."
Chris slumps, looking disbelieving. "Oh my god," he says slowly.
"Wow, plot twist," Dustin says.
"What? You know we don't," Mark says, and considers kicking him.
"We thought you did," Dustin says, since Chris is still staring at the ceiling. "Since you've been married five years."
"We got married so he wouldn't get deported," Mark says. "You know that, you were there." Not many people outside their immediate family and friends do know because it wouldn't have looked good for Facebook, but Chris and Dustin are two of the few people who know everything.
"Yes, but we thought," Dustin says, "you know, after a couple of years?"
Mark looks at him.
"Wait, and you haven't dated anyone else, does this mean you've been celibate this whole time?" Dustin asks, sounding abruptly horrified. "Oh, you poor thing."
"We've been busy with Facebook," Mark says, shrugging.
"No, never mind, poor Eduardo," Dustin says, with an even more crumpled expression.
"Eduardo is fine," Mark snaps, but Dustin just continues looking wounded. "Chris," Mark complains.
"Hold on, I'm readjusting my perceptions of you two for the last four years," Chris says.
"I don't know why you're both so shocked," Mark says, though if pressured, he might admit all the jokes make more sense now. They weren't jokes - or, at least, not all of them were. Sean's probably were. They were if he knows what's good for him.
"Of course you don't," Chris says. "On the other hand, this means the divorce makes more sense."
"How?" Mark demands. Sex or not, the point remains that Eduardo suddenly decided to change their well-established program because of some moron he met somewhere.
"He wants to get on with his life!" Chris says, then mutters, "Unbelievable as that is."
"And that's supposed to be alright?" Mark says.
Dustin makes a noise like a dying animal, but Chris ignores him so Mark does, too.
"Yes," Chris says. "It'd be normal. Probably good!"
Mark thinks he deserves to be offended at how Chris is suddenly unworried about this whole thing. "He wants to get a divorce," Mark repeats, probably futilely. Chris already looks stubborn.
"You're not really married!" Chris says, and Mark decides he absolutely is offended at the implication that their contract is less valid because they haven't consummated it.
"Yes, we are," he says.
"No, you're not," Chris says, voice edging up, "and believe me, we still will all be talking about that at length sometime soon, but since you aren't really married, why the fuck do you care if you get divorced?"
"We're not supposed to," Mark says. "Why would we ever get divorced?"
Chris and Dustin both stare at him silently. Mark stares back.
"This situation," Dustin says, "just got a whole lot more complicated."
Mark isn't sure what finally got that point across, but he nods firmly. He's mildly confused when Chris and Dustin just shake their heads sadly at him in reply, but at least Chris isn't arguing with him anymore.
---
Mark manages to avoid Eduardo the rest of the day, but he can't escape the fact that they live in the same house.
That should go without saying, of course, but he's been a little distracted, so when he drives home and is confronted with Eduardo's car, he's still surprised.
But of course, Eduardo always gets home before he does. And Mark would be surprised if Chris hadn't been texting or emailing Eduardo today, because he can't imagine Eduardo wouldn't have texted both Chris and Dustin after Mark left, because he worries about Mark too much.
Eduardo says his name, sharp and earnest, as soon as he opens the front door, and Mark feels his stomach clench.
"Mark," Eduardo says. "Mark."
"What?" Mark snaps, since it seems Eduardo isn't going to stop repeating his name until he acknowledges him.
"I'm sorry for springing this on you," Eduardo says. "I know it's probably surprising." He steps closer to Mark, until he's a few feet away, the better to gauge Mark's every reaction.
Mark shrugs, discomfited.
"I just want to make sure you know-" Eduardo says, and he leans forward to grab Mark's hand, rubbing his thumb over the back while he stares at Mark as earnestly as possible. "-this has nothing to do with you. I'm not upset or leaving you or doing this for any reason beside the fact that I think it's time we both started moving on with our lives."
Mark has to look away. He feels childish for reacting badly. "I know," he says. He hadn't even thought about it.
"It probably won't even change anything, at least for a while," Eduardo says, smiling encouragingly when Mark glances reluctantly back at him. "I'm not even planning on moving out."
"Okay," Mark says, somewhat grudgingly, but he doesn't mind when Eduardo pulls him into a one-armed hug. Mark pats his back a little awkwardly and sighs, but most of the sinking feeling in his stomach is gone.
This won't change anything. So they'll get divorced. What does it matter if Eduardo isn't even planning on moving out? It won't change their lives at all. There's no way Eduardo is actually serious about whoever he thinks he's met; if he were, he would've mentioned them at least once, and Mark hasn't heard anything about it.
Eduardo sits in the study the rest of the night, possibly working but more likely trying to make himself work while he looks at pictures of kittens or architecture online. Mark usually sits in there with him, at the other desk or on the couch with his laptop, making fun of his happy noises at old castles and telling him they can't get a cat. Tonight, he wanders around, looking at their house.
It's always been their house, ever since they bought it. They have a joint bank account, because Eduardo handles all of that and they were allowed since they were married. Eduardo said it was easier, and Mark hadn't cared, since the sole extent of his interaction with his money is to swipe his debit card and run it as credit. He's not even sure he knows his PIN, never mind account numbers. He has no idea how much they have in it, only that he always has enough money for gas and food and the exorbitant bill when Eduardo drags him out once yearly to buy acceptable clothing.
Eduardo handles everything to do with money, from Facebook to utility bills, and it's their house but Mark doesn't even know for sure that the deed is in their names. He doesn't even-
-there are so many things he doesn't know, and it never mattered because Eduardo handled all of it, because that was his job. But now, if Eduardo wants a divorce, they're going to have to deal with all of that. Dividing assets and redefining Facebook shares, and Mark will have to think about things he's never had to think about.
Eduardo is going to owe him so much for this.
---
So they set the lawyers to draw up divorce contracts. It's actually a lot of work: nobody believes them when they say it's an uncontested affair, and everyone asks them warily about Facebook and how they're going to keep working together, and Mark gets tired in the first week of being asked how he's doing.
Eduardo doesn't get asked nearly as often as he does. Mark is offended. If anyone would be emotionally damaged by a divorce, it would be Eduardo. Mark is much more stable.
"They ask you more than him because you don't look like you're handling it very well," Chris says.
And that's bullshit. Mark looks just the same as always. He knows because Eduardo still does the same amount of nagging before letting him leave the house. Eduardo would notice if he looked odd.
"Oblivious and repressed is not the same thing as stable," Dustin adds.
And that's also bullshit. Mark is neither oblivious nor repressed.
"Let me guess, Eduardo would notice that, too," Chris says, rolling his eyes, but he sounds too sad for his wry expression.
Eduardo would, as a matter of fact, but Mark doesn't say so. He just frowns.
Mark reaches his breaking point the following Sunday.
It is partially the fault of the concerned, politely vague questions he'd gotten all week, from employees and business associates and their maid, who woke him Thursday when she came in to vacuum and he hadn't yet gotten out of bed. He was getting divorced, he was allowed to laze around. People attributed it to sadness.
Their maid certainly had. She's a middle-aged woman named Luz, and when she'd seen him still lying in bed at the late hour of nine forty-five in the morning, she'd clicked her tongue and hauled him out of bed with not a single hint of sympathy.
She'd cooked him breakfast - which Eduardo will kill Mark for, if he ever finds out; Mark likes Luz and she feeds him a lot, but she doesn't get paid to be their maid and their cook, and Eduardo would insist it isn't right to allow her to do the extra work without getting paid extra, and Luz would be offended in return at the implication she needed to be paid extra for the basic human decency she thinks she displays by keeping Mark alive and on a somewhat normal waking schedule - while telling him some elaborately incomprehensible story about her daughter or maybe her niece, who divorced her ex-husband and then either found the second love of her life or had watched him find the second love of his.
Both options sounded equally unappealing to Mark if he took the story as the object lesson she clearly meant it to be.
But the stifling, unwarranted concern came from too many sources. Mark doesn't know how everyone knows. They haven't exactly announced it.
"We never announced you two were married, either, and everyone managed to learn about that," Chris had said to Mark when Mark complained for possibly the sixth time.
"Yes, but the entire company knowing when there's only thirty of us is very different from the entire company knowing when there's thousands," Mark had said, but Chris hadn't acknowledged him.
He'd been glad to get out of the office on Friday, leaving about an hour after Eduardo had texted to say he was already at home and Mark wasn't planning on staying until all hours on a Friday, was he?
Eduardo had known very well that Mark had, and Mark had even responded that Eduardo could go back to his shows about crying women, but he'd gotten up to get food from the vending machine around the corner and had heard people talking about him, hissing at each other about whether or not the divorce was mutual, and who started proceedings, and how long their marriage had been having trouble. They disagreed on all of the above, but they sounded agreement when one of them said that nobody was surprised.
Mark had gone back to his office because if he'd gone around the corner, he would've identified the employees and fired all of them. Hunger and a sneaking discomfort had forced him home less than half an hour later.
Eduardo had sat up when Mark had come in, but instead of trying to force one of the stilted conversations they've had ever since Eduardo first brought up the topic of divorce, Eduardo had looked sympathetic and made room for Mark on the couch and said, "Yeah, me too. But at least now we'll have two days without it. Everyone will be better on Monday."
Mark hadn't responded, just shrugged and sat down, relieved Eduardo hadn't asked him to talk about the divorce. He had been trying to ask Mark about what he thought about certain mediators, handing him business cards Mark immediately threw away. Mark hadn't been in the mood to deal with it.
Half an hour of mind-numbing television had cured the worst of his irritation, and he'd gone into the study to work. He'd barely settled in when their home phone had rung.
This was a pretty unusual occurrence. They only had one because Mark's mother had insisted, and she and various family members were the only ones who ever called.
"That's going to be for you," Eduardo had yelled from the living room, and Mark had grabbed the phone reluctantly.
"Hi, Mom," he'd said, which was the beginning of the ruination of his weekend.
Mark had been treated to a good forty-five minutes of horrible conversation about the one thing he really didn't want to talk about at all. She knew why they'd gotten married, she knew it wasn't actually a romantic attachment, but she seemed to have completely forgotten that as she started with the dreaded question - "Are you sure you're alright, honey?" - and proceeded to lecture him about relationship responsibilities and grumble about not being the first one told, because his mother thought she had a right to all the developments in his life.
Mark only escaped the conversation by pleading exhaustion, and he'd be more appreciative of this divorce if it weren't so inconvenient, because she listened and immediately wished him goodnight.
But she's his mother, and she never keeps her mouth shut, and the rest of his family had started calling. They'd called all Friday night and into Saturday, his sisters and his aunts and his cousins and so on down the family tree, until Mark had known the people calling were doing it mostly from curiosity and not out of any real concern for him, because by the time he thought to unplug the phone, he was hearing from relatives he was sure he'd never met. Besides avoiding the phone calls, he'd spent most of Saturday morning pretending to sleep, because Eduardo had kept poking his head into Mark's room, looking talkative.
And Mark had no intention of talking.
Eduardo had given up shortly after noon, and Mark had hauled himself out of bed to work a little more. He sat in the study, and it wasn't until Chris called his cell several hours later that Mark had noticed Eduardo's continued absence.
"Can I come over?" Chris had asked, which meant he needed to talk about work because he didn't bother to ask, otherwise, and Mark had gotten up to ask Eduardo if he had a problem with that - he can get a little funny about his weekends being usurped by work, because he likes to pretend he's less of a workaholic than Mark - but hadn't been able to find him.
"What do you mean, he's not there?" Chris had asked, sounding disbelieving, and Mark had walked outside to check that, yes, Eduardo's car was gone.
"He's not here," Mark had said, and added, "There's no point coming over now. I'll text you tomorrow."
Mark had waited, and ordered in dinner, and waited some more, but when he had finally gone back to bed near three a.m. Eduardo still hadn't come back.
All told, by the time Mark wakes up late Sunday morning, he has had a terrible week and Eduardo's the cause of it. He's also the nearest target.
"Where the fuck were you?" Mark demands when he goes down to the kitchen and practically walks into Eduardo, who is dressed nicely but casually and has wet hair. He never showers in the morning. Mark narrows his eyes.
"I had a date," Eduardo says, and tilts his head a little when he smiles, his nervous tick. "I ended up staying over because we left my car at his place for the movie and dinner. I was a little drunk by the time we got back, and I didn't want to drive home."
"Chris wanted to talk to us," Mark says flatly, ignoring the implications of Eduardo's sleepover. "Work. I didn't know where you were."
"Sorry for not being available on a weekend," Eduardo says. "I mistakenly thought people were allowed to take a break and go out."
"Normal people," Mark says. "People who aren't responsible for part of a billion dollar company. I need to know where you are."
"Then you could've called," Eduardo says, obviously trying for patience. "Or even texted. I had my phone with me."
Mark grits his teeth. "That's not the point. You didn't tell me you were leaving. I needed you here."
"You needed me for work," Eduardo corrects him. "And it's a weekend."
"You have a job," Mark says. "Facebook doesn't stop needing a CFO just because you want to get drunk and get laid."
"What Facebook needs is not my priority every hour of every day," Eduardo says. "Hard as that may be for you to believe."
"Fuck you," Mark says, and he walks out of the kitchen.
---
Chris does come over that afternoon. He lets himself in and catches Mark in the kitchen - the study is Eduardo's; Mark has never been able to lay a permanent claim on it, and if he's going to be in there, working or not, Mark won't be - before pushing him into the study. "So you guys are getting a divorce."
Mark bites back everything he could say to that, because even Eduardo is looking at Chris as if he's being an idiot, and that's more effective than Mark's commentary could possibly be in this situation.
Chris returns Eduardo's look and says, "The richest gay couple in America. Founders of Facebook. You're getting divorced."
"Oh," Eduardo says.
"Yes, oh," Chris says, and pulls Eduardo out of the desk chair and nudges him toward the couch. Eduardo sits on the end opposite Mark and Chris takes command of the chair, crossing his legs and looking at them sternly.
"Did you need something?" Mark says.
"You're going to have to do press," Chris says.
"No," Mark says immediately, even as he sees Eduardo also open his mouth from the corner of his eye.
"Yes," Chris counters. "It's going to be a big deal. People will find out, and it will make the news. We either announce it and handle it ourselves from the beginning or you let the media get ahead of you."
"The fuck does the media matter," Mark says.
"It matters for Facebook," Chris says, and turns to Eduardo. "I don't know if you've checked your email, but I already sent you a tentative draft of a statement. We'll have you give one first. Mark can stay quiet a little longer. Everyone who knows already thinks he's moping anyway, it won't hurt to let that carry him a little further before he has to talk."
"I never have to talk," Mark says. "And if I do, I'm not going to pander to public opinion."
"Yes, you will," Chris says, "because otherwise, you'll make your life even more miserable than it's already going to be." He hesitates. "You have to understand. There could be a lot of backlash."
"How much is a lot?" Eduardo asks quietly while Mark glares at Chris and tries to decide how angry Dustin would be if Mark replaced Chris with someone who actually cares what Mark wants.
"I don't know," Chris says honestly. "It's not like I have any experience with this."
Eduardo sighs. "Yeah, I know."
Chris leaves shortly after, still ignoring Mark's attempts to dissuade him from any and all public communications. Eduardo sees him to the door and then corners Mark before Mark can escape again.
"Look," he says sternly. "I don't know why you're mad at me, but it needs to stop."
"Yes, you do," Mark says.
"Okay, yes," Eduardo says, looking a little bit guilty. "I do, but it still needs to stop."
Mark narrows his eyes and steps around him. He wonders if Dustin is busy, if Sean is. Sean probably is, but he'll let Mark come along.
"Mark," Eduardo says, more quietly. "I know this is difficult, even though we're not-I know, okay? But I don't want to lose you as my friend, too."
Mark stiffens. He turns around slowly, facing Eduardo again. "You're not."
"You said you were okay with it," Eduardo says. "You said that, and you seemed to be for a few days, but now you're-we're not friends if you won't even speak to me."
"I'll speak to you when I have something to say," Mark says.
Eduardo makes an exasperated noise. "Mark, come on," he complains.
"Fine," Mark snaps. "You want me to say something? How about this: I don't want to fucking get divorced."
Eduardo's face softens. "Oh," he says.
"That can't be surprising to you," Mark says. "You throw this at me, and you've met someone but you never felt the need to mention it, and you say things don't need to change but they already are."
"So you're angry at me," Eduardo says.
Mark narrows his eyes, because that ought to go without saying.
"Mark," Eduardo says. "I need you to talk to me."
Mark doesn't see the point. If he's not going to talk Eduardo out of all of this, there isn't one. He frowns harder.
Eduardo sighs. "This is why I didn't tell you about him, you know," he says. "Because you never talk to me. We haven't talked about anything but Facebook in months. Maybe years."
"That's not true," Mark says automatically.
The corner of Eduardo's mouth quirks up, just a little. "Prove me wrong."
This isn't a fair competition. Mark barely remembers half the conversations he has about Facebook, never mind the ones that aren't. There's no way he's going to remember a recent conversation that didn't have anything to do with-
"We talked about the divorce," Mark says.
"Uh, no," Eduardo says, and for once he's the one narrowing his eyes. "I made you tell me, twice, that you were okay with it, and now you're avoiding actually discussing it yet again."
Mark stares at him.
"Give up?" Eduardo prompts. "Admit I'm right?"
"What do you want," Mark grumbles.
Eduardo reaches out and curves his hand over Mark's shoulder, squeezing gently and nudging him back toward the couch. Mark lets himself be pushed, and Eduardo doesn't continue prodding until Mark is settled against one arm, facing Eduardo on the other end. Their ankles brush, because the couch isn't long enough to fit them both like this. "So," Eduardo says. "Why don't you want the divorce?"
"I wasn't expecting it," Mark says. He doesn't like change, Eduardo knows he doesn't. Change in his personal life means adjustments he has to make, and he barely has time to keep up with adjustments to Facebook. Where is he supposed to find the time and energy to adjust to changes in his life when he usually relies on the steady base it provides?
"I know," Eduardo says. "But why don't you want it?"
Mark frowns, looking at the wall. "Why would I?"
"Answer the question," Eduardo says, unusually militant.
"It makes things change, and it's a lot of work, and I don't like that I wasn't expecting it. You didn't tell me anything or give me hints," Mark says, in a rush, then stares harder at the wall.
"Well," Eduardo says slowly. "I guess I don't blame you. I knew you'd react badly, and I wasn't even sure I was serious, so I didn't tell you about any of it."
"You're sure you're serious now?" Mark asks. He risks a glance up in time to see Eduardo hesitate.
"I don't know," Eduardo says. "But it's serious enough that it's made me think. And we'll need to get divorced eventually."
Mark keeps hearing that. Keeps getting told in one form or another that friendship and business partnership and common interests and comfort with each other aren't good enough reasons to stay married. He isn't going to complain about that to Eduardo, though, because he also doesn't know how to explain why he feels like they are. He certainly never pictured himself married to Eduardo, or possibly to anyone, but now it's one of the indelible facts of his life. Sex or not, romance or not, Eduardo is his husband.
Mark shrugs.
Eduardo sighs again. "Fine," he says. "I guess we've hit your limit for talking. I know to take what I can get. God forbid we ever talk about anything important, even about something like this."
"We have talked about everything important," Mark says. "You want to get divorced. There's no real reason not to. So we'll get divorced."
"Just like that," Eduardo says. "Because I want to."
Mark shrugs. "If it'll make you happy."
He stands up, feeling itchy in his skin, and he half expects Eduardo to stop him but he doesn't. When Mark looks back, he's just sitting on the couch with a tight, thoughtful expression, and Mark has more than done his duty tonight.
Part Two
Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Epilogue
Five Years Later
"Shove over a little bit," Eduardo murmurs, hip nudging into Mark's side as he reaches up for a mug. Mark moves over, snatching his plate up and grabbing the Pop-Tart as it comes out of the toaster. He sits at the kitchen table, back to the window and one foot tucked under him. Eduardo finishes making his bagel and sits in his own chair across from Mark, smiling at him before he pulls up his phone and reads his emails. Mark stares sightlessly at the refrigerator door. He's tired. He'd stayed up too late - Eduardo had scolded him before he went to bed himself, warning him not to, and Mark had nodded with every intention of obeying and then stayed up until five a.m. anyway.
"Here," Eduardo says without looking up from his phone. He pushes his mug across the table. "Drink the coffee. I know you hate it, but since we're out of Red Bull, I don't want you crashing on your way to the office."
Mark grimaces but takes it. At least Eduardo drinks his coffee with half a cup of sugar. If Mark ignores the smell, it almost tastes like Red Bull.
Eduardo eats quickly and gets up to put his plate in the dishwasher. He takes Mark's too, because Mark had finished his Pop-Tart some time ago without noticing. He's more tired than he thought.
"Go upstairs and get dressed, it'll wake you up," Eduardo says. "I've got to go."
He's already dressed. He gets showered and dressed every morning before he comes down for breakfast. He's actually running late today: he usually gets up and out of the house by eight, so he's home by five or six. Mark sometimes won't leave until nine or ten or eleven, and then he'll stay until ten or eleven at night. But never past eleven, because at eleven Eduardo comes and drags him out whether he likes it or not. Just because, once, Mark accidentally fell asleep in his car and slept in the parking lot all night.
"Mark," Eduardo says, coming around the table to Mark's side. He wraps his arm around Mark's shoulders and leans down, pressing a kiss to Mark's temple. "I've got that meeting with the lawyers today, so I probably won't be in until after lunch. I'll stop in to check on you."
"I'm fine," Mark grumbles.
Eduardo steps away, grabbing his keys off the counter. "I want to make sure you haven't fallen asleep on your keyboard," he says.
"Bye," Mark says as Eduardo leaves the kitchen.
"Goodbye," Eduardo says. Mark can hear the front door open and the beep of Eduardo's car unlocking. "See you later."
The front door shuts with a firm click and Mark yawns and drains the last of Eduardo's disgusting cup of coffee and then lays his head down on the table. He's so tired.
---
Chris is already in because he's like Eduardo: arrives early, leaves early, likes to pretend he has a normal life. Dustin isn't in yet, because he's like Mark but without the Eduardo to keep him on schedule.
Mark takes advantage of having an assistant who's paid to obey him and sends her out for four packs of Red Bull. She eyes him warily until Mark grits his teeth and explains that they're out at home.
It takes half an hour for the Red Bull to arrive. They used to stock it in the vending machines until too many of the employees had gone on a health kick all at the same time, and Chris had caved to pressure and removed anything stronger than soda and fruit juice from the machines.
In the meantime, Mark sits down and starts pulling up all the code he's been sent in the last couple of days. He needs to approve it, and there's still one aspect he's not sure he wants to implement at all but he'd compromised with the team that developed it by promising to look at it in action before deciding.
Dustin pokes his head in shortly after, ostensibly to say good morning but really to steal some of Mark's Red Bull. It would've been less obvious if he hadn't sat in front of the case, talked nonsense for two minutes, and then walked out with two cans held behind his back in plain view, but Mark isn't going to say anything. Dustin always steals his shit. There's no point arguing now.
Chris has been walking past Mark all day, occasionally waving at him, but the next time he wanders by, he taps on Mark's shoulder and leans against the edge of the desk.
"Yeah," Mark says.
"I need to talk to you and Eduardo at lunch today," Chris says. "Will you be around or do I need to meet you guys somewhere?"
"He'll come back from the lawyers," Mark says. "Text him if you want him to bring you food."
"Our cafeteria is more than adequate," Chris says wryly. "But thanks."
"We always eat here," Mark says, "I don't know why you insist on telling me every time you need to talk to us."
"Because I don't want you sneaking off on your lunch break to have sex in a closet," Chris says. "At least not on the days I need to talk to you."
"Yes, funny," Mark says, and Chris goes back to whatever he was doing a minute ago. Mark doesn't know why, five years later, everyone insists on making the married jokes. The first couple of months, sure, it was fair game. Mark and Eduardo are married, how's the sex life, gonna adopt any kids yet? All of that was the price they paid, and Mark hadn't even minded that much - there were so many other things going on with Facebook he didn't even notice most of it. Chris and Eduardo dealt with all the serious fallout from the two founders of the largest up-and-coming site being not just partners but partners, and Mark really only had to deal with Dustin and Sean's bad senses of humor.
It's been five years but still, every once in a while, someone thinks it's funny to bring it back up. It's started annoying Mark more and more as time passes, though he's not sure why; he chalks it up to the repetitive nature of the jokes.
Eduardo shows up a little while later, dropping a burrito by Mark's elbow and pulling one of the extra chairs over to sit next to him. It means Mark will end up with twice the amount of lettuce pieces littering his keyboard, but he's used to it.
"Hey," Eduardo says. "So the lawyers are fine with everything, so far. That doesn't necessarily mean anything, but they'll need more time to look at the contracts in more depth."
"Okay," Mark says. He throws away an empty can and opens another. When he looks back over, Eduardo is watching his burrito with an absent gaze. "What?" Mark says.
"Hm?" Eduardo says, jerking his gaze up.
"What's wrong?" Mark says.
"Oh," Eduardo says. "Nothing. I just have something I need to ask you."
"Yeah?" Mark says. "What?"
"Well," Eduardo says, and moves his chair closer. He puts his elbow on the edge of the desk and looks earnestly at Mark.
"If this is going to take a while, you should know that Chris is going to come by soon to talk to you about something," Mark says.
"Me?" Eduardo says.
"He said us," Mark says, rolling his eyes.
Eduardo smiles a little.
Chris always asks to talk to both of them, but what that means is he needs Mark's signature or presence for something but actually wants Eduardo's input. Mark was annoyed by it for a while, until he was forced to admit that Eduardo's input on the things Chris wanted it for was usually more valuable than Mark's, so Chris was right. But Mark is still a little annoyed by the fact that he's required to be around at all - Eduardo has been forging his signature for years. There's no real reason for Mark's presence besides Chris's bizarre dislike for minor fraud.
When Chris arrives, he brings sushi for lunch. Eduardo immediately appropriates it. He has the decency to look guiltily at Chris but not enough decency to keep his hands on his own food. Chris smiles mildly and pulls another tray of sushi out of the lunch bag. Mark takes the remaining half of Eduardo's burrito.
"Alright," Chris says, and launches into an explanation of a complaint about a small group of people in HR he received. Mark immediately tunes him out, tapping at his keyboard to wake his computer back up. Eduardo nudges his leg every once in a while when he actually needs to pay attention, so Mark gets the salient points in between scanning the bug report for an official app that keeps crashing.
It takes almost half an hour for Chris to finish discussing the problem with HR, and then he passes over a sheaf of papers. Everything Eduardo had said had agreed with his own opinions on things, apparently, and he just needs Mark and Eduardo's signatures.
Because, for all the authority Eduardo, Chris, and Dustin have, Mark still has oversight on who gets fired, especially when it's a couple of Vice Presidents. Eduardo has to be kept apprised because he keeps track of everything Mark might need to know, and he's also going to have to deal with additional paperwork involving things like severance packages, which Mark still doesn't understand. Eduardo has explained them a couple of times, and now he just rolls his eyes when Mark demands to know why they hire people with six months of guaranteed pay built in if they turn out to be shit at their jobs.
Dustin wanders by after that and steals what little remains of Chris's sushi, and then he dares Mark to eat the rest of Eduardo's wasabi and Mark does, because he can drink his Red Bull right after and he still enjoys making Dustin chortle like that sometimes. Chris and Eduardo's disgusted faces are just bonuses.
"Go away," Mark says finally, because Chris is looking busy again and Eduardo has been doing nothing for ten minutes - which is about his limit for inactivity when he's "working" - and Mark wants Dustin to leave when they do.
"Fine, fine," Dustin says, holding up his hands, and then he steals another couple of cans of Mark's Red Bull.
"He better not be drinking all that," Chris says, watching him go. "His heart will explode."
"That's a myth," Mark says.
"Even if it isn't, he'll be fine," Eduardo says.
"I've been trying not to drink that much caffeine," Chris says. "Sean doesn't drink any."
Mark rolls his eyes. "Yes, you've told us."
Chris looks put-upon. "I may annoy you now, but the way you inhale it, you'll have ulcers when you're forty."
"Plenty of people have ulcers at forty even if they don't drink caffeine," Mark says.
"Thirty, then," Chris says, unwilling to relinquish his point.
"Oh, come on, with the lack of sleep he gets, he'll be lucky to make thirty," Eduardo says.
"Thanks, very helpful," Mark says.
Eduardo grins and nudges their knees together.
Chris stands. "Wardo, I'll send the rest of those pages to your office."
"Yeah," Eduardo says.
"Oh! Before I forget," Chris says suddenly, stopping and looking at them again. "Dustin was supposed to tell you but I think he's forgotten. Sean is back in town. He's asked us to meet him for dinner."
Mark frowns. "Why didn't he text me?"
"He probably thinks you're still angry at him," Chris says.
"Probably, or does?" Eduardo asks dryly.
"Does," Chris says. "He texted me to ask if Mark was still mad."
"He's served his rehab and probation, so why would I be?" Mark asks.
"Most people would be," Eduardo says. "You would be if you didn't have an exception clause a mile long when it comes to Sean."
Eduardo is still angry, but that's nothing new. Eduardo's default state is angry when it comes to Sean. Mark's isn't. He also doesn't make any exceptions for Sean; he just has a realistic conception of Sean's expected behavior, and there doesn't seem to be much point to punishing him for who he is. Who he is was very helpful at one point.
"So we're meeting him for dinner," Mark says. "All of us?"
"You and Dustin at least," Chris says. "I'll probably come, but only if I can bring Sean. They ought to meet each other."
"I'm sure they'll both love it," Eduardo says.
"But yeah, the email Dustin forwarded to me invites your wife, too," Chris continues.
Another marriage joke. Mark frowns.
"He's still calling me Mark's wife?" Eduardo says.
"Some things never change," Chris says. He takes a step away from the desk, clearly trying to hurry the conversation along.
"Asshole," Eduardo says.
"Some things never change," Mark repeats, nodding at Chris in agreement. Chris's mouth twitches.
Eduardo slaps at Mark's knee lightly. "No, it won't change, because I'm going to continue thinking he's an asshole so long as he keeps acting like one."
"I don't understand why it upsets you," Mark says. "You're obviously my wife."
"If you two are through," Chris says, probably saving Mark's sanity for the next week - it's amazing how Sean gets him into these situations even when he's not around, and yes, Mark will always blame these things on Sean - but shaking his head at them both. "Just let me know by the end of the day so I can confirm how many people for the reservation."
"I'm not going," Eduardo says. "I've got plans anyway."
Mark looks at him. Eduardo actually appears to be telling the truth, though it's unusual for him to have plans that Mark isn't involved in and knows nothing about.
"Okay," Chris says. "Mark?"
"Yeah, I'm coming," Mark says, and as Chris leaves, asks Eduardo, "What are you doing?"
"Well, right now I've got to go," Eduardo says. "I'll talk to you tonight, okay?"
"Fine," Mark says.
Eduardo leans forward and kisses the top of his head. "Have a good rest of the day, honey," he says, obnoxious, and Mark slaps at him. "Don't get pissy at me," Eduardo says, avoiding him deftly and smirking. "You started it."
"Sean started it," Mark mutters, but Eduardo only snorts and keeps walking away.
---
The restaurant is some horribly trendy place downtown, just opened, shiny and bright and perfectly Sean's pace.
Chris left the offices a little early to pick up his Sean, but they still beat Mark and Dustin there. Even Dustin beats Mark there, though he only left the building five minutes earlier.
There's a split second where there's a potential for awkwardness, and then Mark remembers this is Sean. "Hey," he says, and Sean pulls him into a hug that feels more like a headlock.
"Hey," Sean says back, and, "How's the spouse?"
"Fine," Mark says. "He had plans."
"I bet," Sean says.
"He really did," Mark says, frowning. He'd had to resist the urge to tap into Eduardo's GPS and see where he was tonight. It's not often Eduardo won't tell him things, and Mark doesn't handle curiosity well. He isn't a patient person.
"You two okay?" Sean asks.
"Yes," Mark says. "I just said we're both fine."
"No, I meant-yeah, cool," Sean says. "So what do you really think of Chris's dude, huh? Dustin seems to like him."
"He's nice," Mark says, because that's about the extent of his opinion. He is nice, and he makes Chris happy, and Dustin and Eduardo both like him, which means he must be fine. They couldn't both read him wrong. And when Mark's mother came out to visit, she'd given them her blessing - multiple times, even, and none of them warranted. So Mark has decided he likes Sean.
He prefers his Sean, of course, but that's to be expected. "How are you?" he asks.
"Don't even think about it," Sean says. "You don't do caring well. It'll be painful for everyone involved. Let's see about getting our table, huh?"
The rest of the night passes in a blur of Sean, his loud voice and loud stories and loud personality. Chris's Sean seems to like him, Mark thinks, which is good. If he hadn't, Mark is under no delusions, they wouldn't be able to convince Chris to come out with them ever again.
It turns out Sean isn't supposed to drink much, since part of the rehab from the drugs was rehab from all drugs, but that doesn't stop Sean from buying them all drinks and pressing them into Mark's hands with an insistence Mark is out of practice fighting off. By the time dessert comes - another characteristic of dinner with Sean; Mark doesn't even like dessert - Mark is yawning into the half-empty glasses in front of him and about to beg for a reprieve.
"Guess we better get you home, then," Sean is saying what seems like seconds later. "Before you fall completely asleep at the table and the missus kills us both."
"He'd just kill you," Mark says blearily, and lets himself be put in Sean's car.
"Chris and his missus said they'd drive your car to your house later," Sean says on the way, and Mark nods and lets his head thunk heavily against the window.
"I'm glad you're back," he says.
He gets dropped off with a couple condescending catcalls from Sean about sleeping tight, which Sean may be trying to turn into bad sex puns, but Mark isn't listening. The door is locked when he gets up to it and he frowns, rattling it a few times before patting his pockets. He gets his keys out but before he has to bother trying to get it in the lock, the door swings open to reveal a sleepy Eduardo.
Looking past him, Mark sees the characteristic pile of three to six blankets Eduardo always uses to ensconce himself on the couch, because they live in California and Mark likes to keep the thermostat at seventy-two degrees while Eduardo freezes at anything below eighty. The clock in the car had said almost two a.m. Mark frowns. "Were you waiting up for me?"
"Yeah," Eduardo says. "I have to talk to you, remember?"
"Hm," Mark says agreeably, and leans forward to push his face into Eduardo's shoulder so Eduardo won't see him yawn. "About what?"
One of Eduardo's hands settles lightly on Mark's neck, sliding higher up and squeezing when Mark doesn't push him off. "It can wait until you're not drunk."
"Hm," Mark says again, and lets Eduardo do more work than is strictly necessary to pull him into the house and get him upstairs. He drops Mark back onto his neatly made bed - their housekeeper comes Mondays and Thursdays - and Mark stares up at the ceiling past Eduardo's shadowed face. "You should've come."
"Sorry," Eduardo says. He disappears from Mark's view as he drops down to pull off Mark's shoes. "I'm still not Sean's biggest fan."
"I know," Mark says. Eduardo reappears. "Hello," Mark says, and then thinks he may have to reconsider how drunk he is.
Eduardo's face folds into a smile and his hand comes back to Mark's head, brushing some hair off Mark's forehead. "Hi," he says. "Get in bed."
Mark sits upright and pulls his hoodie off. Eduardo pulls the covers down from underneath the pillows and puts a hand on Mark's back to push him up towards them.
"Talk to me tomorrow," Mark says.
"Yeah," Eduardo says. "Goodnight."
Mark wants to ask Eduardo to stay and talk to him until he falls asleep, because Eduardo will do that sometimes - though, admittedly, that works best when Eduardo is also drunk, and he isn't right now - but Eduardo looks too tired and he's usually got an earlier bedtime than Mark. Mark pats at his shoulder and rolls over. He stays awake just long enough to hear Eduardo close the bedroom door behind himself.
---
Eduardo has already left by the time Mark gets up the next morning. He'd turned off Mark's alarm, and Mark doesn't get up until almost eleven. He gets into the office around noon, which means he hasn't even started working when Eduardo shows up with salads.
Mark makes a face. Eduardo shoves it at him anyway. Mark relents and takes it, because delivered salad, however unappetizing, is more appealing than getting up and getting his own.
"So," Mark says. Eduardo pulls the lids off both their lunch containers and hands Mark a plastic fork.
"Yeah," Eduardo says. He looks uncomfortable. To compensate, he shoves too much lettuce into his mouth.
"What is it?" Mark asks. He pokes at the pile of carrots underneath the pile of dressing, spreading things around a bit. "You said everything was fine with the lawyers."
"No, it's not about Facebook," Eduardo says. He swallows a couple of times and sets his salad and fork down, leaning towards Mark.
"Okay," Mark says slowly, narrowing his eyes.
Eduardo smiles and says, "I think it's time we got a divorce."
Mark stares at him uncomprehendingly.
"Mark," Eduardo says after a few moments, shifting in his seat, and some of the attempt at bright normalcy in his expression fades, tampering down to a level Mark can begin to reconcile with this turn of events. It wouldn't be fair for Eduardo to ruin the foundation of the last five years of his life and smile while doing it.
"You want a divorce," Mark says. "Why?"
Eduardo's brow starts to furrow. "I-it's been more than long enough. There's no reason to stay-"
"Married the way we have been for the last five years, which was much longer than you ever needed?" Mark says, and repeats, "Why?" and he really means why now?
"I've met someone," Eduardo admits quietly, looking simultaneously pleased and sheepish while he finishes pulling Mark's world down around his ears.
Mark nods, then shakes his head, and finally he stands up and walks past Eduardo wordlessly.
"Mark?" Eduardo says.
"I have to-" Mark says, waving, and goes looking for Dustin.
Dustin is easily found, cuddled up with some interns while they plot out some undoubtedly stupid plan, and he lets Mark pull him away with a minimum of fuss, which turns into no fuss at all as soon as he gets a good look at Mark's face.
Mark locks them in one of the oft-unused back offices, a nice, solid wood door between them and the rest of the world, and then sits down at the table. Dustin, after a moment, does the same.
Mark says, "Eduardo is seeing someone and he wants a divorce," which isn't the proper order of that news, but it's not like the message is different.
Dustin starts shrieking, and Mark sits back, a little relieved, because yeah, that seems like the sentiment he was looking to convey.
---
Some things never change, so after Dustin gets done having a minor mental breakdown and finally believes Mark when he says he doesn't have any extra information he's withholding, he smuggles Mark out of the room and to Chris's office, where he can demand Chris's attention with an absolute guarantee of privacy.
Chris isn't entirely pleased about being pulled away from work, but he hears something convincing in Dustin's tone - probably the hysteria, which Mark, as comforting as it was at first, is beginning to get a little tired of - and he clears his schedule for the next half hour with no explanation at all.
As soon as Chris gestures permission to speak, Dustin blurts out what Mark told him. Chris blinks, expression frozen, then turns to Mark and says, "I'm sorry, what happened?"
Mark frowns. "Eduardo came in for lunch today and said he wanted a divorce. When I made him tell me why, he said he's met someone."
"Eduardo," Chris says, in a tone of deep skepticism, "has met someone."
"Yes," Mark says.
Chris turns to Dustin. "Eduardo," he says.
"I know!" Dustin says, twitching forward in disapproval.
"Someone else," Chris says.
This time, Dustin nearly comes out of his chair. "I know!"
"Excuse me," Mark says, irritated.
"Sorry," Chris says. "It's just a little hard to believe. If you didn't look so-" and here Chris gestures at Mark's face, though Mark isn't sure what that's supposed to mean- "I wouldn't believe it."
Mark huffs.
"Look, I'm sorry," Chris says, coming around his desk. He sits on the side nearest Mark and leans forward. "Just tell me what happened. We'll figure something out."
"I told you," Mark says, frowning. "He came in for-"
"That's not what I mean," Chris says. "Why did he want the divorce?"
Mark grits his teeth, but he knows shock can make people slow. "He said he's-"
"I mean what caused it!" Chris says, looking exasperated. "These things don't come out of nowhere. There had to have been signs. Have you two fought? Has he been more distant lately? I haven't noticed anything, but-"
"Me neither," Dustin pipes up helpfully, before shutting up again at the look Chris gives him.
"We wouldn't necessarily notice anything. You're hard to read and Eduardo's a good actor."
"Obviously," Mark mutters, feeling bitter, "if he's been seeing someone." He can't understand where Eduardo would find the time, never mind where Eduardo could've met anyone.
Chris looks at him with something suspiciously close to pity. "You must've noticed something, right? Even if you don't want to tell us, has anything been different?"
"No," Mark says.
"No fights?" Chris asks.
"No," Mark says, then appends, "Well, we argue sometimes." But they've argued for years; it's normal.
"What about-" Chris says, trailing off awkwardly. He clasps his hands together in his lap, looking down at them.
"What?" Mark says.
"Well, if he's started seeing someone, he must be getting something from them he feels he isn't getting from you," Chris says. He's looking very closely at his thumbs.
Mark stares at him blankly.
Dustin makes a rude noise. "Oh, for-Chris was trying to ask about your sex life."
Mark scowls at Dustin, and when he only holds up his hands placatingly and Chris says, "It's important!" Mark scowls harder.
"Fuck you," he says. "You're making jokes about that now?"
"A healthy sex life isn't a joke," Chris says, in his earnest voice, and Mark honestly thought he was better than this.
"Yes, Eduardo and I are married, look at all the sex we're having this is hilarious and still makes for wonderful jokes five years later, but do you think we can talk about the part where Eduardo wants to leave?" Mark snarls.
"Mark," Chris says, then opens and shuts his mouth a few times. "Mark, I'm being completely serious, so I need an honest answer: do you and Eduardo sleep together?"
"No," Mark says. "Of course not."
Chris slumps, looking disbelieving. "Oh my god," he says slowly.
"Wow, plot twist," Dustin says.
"What? You know we don't," Mark says, and considers kicking him.
"We thought you did," Dustin says, since Chris is still staring at the ceiling. "Since you've been married five years."
"We got married so he wouldn't get deported," Mark says. "You know that, you were there." Not many people outside their immediate family and friends do know because it wouldn't have looked good for Facebook, but Chris and Dustin are two of the few people who know everything.
"Yes, but we thought," Dustin says, "you know, after a couple of years?"
Mark looks at him.
"Wait, and you haven't dated anyone else, does this mean you've been celibate this whole time?" Dustin asks, sounding abruptly horrified. "Oh, you poor thing."
"We've been busy with Facebook," Mark says, shrugging.
"No, never mind, poor Eduardo," Dustin says, with an even more crumpled expression.
"Eduardo is fine," Mark snaps, but Dustin just continues looking wounded. "Chris," Mark complains.
"Hold on, I'm readjusting my perceptions of you two for the last four years," Chris says.
"I don't know why you're both so shocked," Mark says, though if pressured, he might admit all the jokes make more sense now. They weren't jokes - or, at least, not all of them were. Sean's probably were. They were if he knows what's good for him.
"Of course you don't," Chris says. "On the other hand, this means the divorce makes more sense."
"How?" Mark demands. Sex or not, the point remains that Eduardo suddenly decided to change their well-established program because of some moron he met somewhere.
"He wants to get on with his life!" Chris says, then mutters, "Unbelievable as that is."
"And that's supposed to be alright?" Mark says.
Dustin makes a noise like a dying animal, but Chris ignores him so Mark does, too.
"Yes," Chris says. "It'd be normal. Probably good!"
Mark thinks he deserves to be offended at how Chris is suddenly unworried about this whole thing. "He wants to get a divorce," Mark repeats, probably futilely. Chris already looks stubborn.
"You're not really married!" Chris says, and Mark decides he absolutely is offended at the implication that their contract is less valid because they haven't consummated it.
"Yes, we are," he says.
"No, you're not," Chris says, voice edging up, "and believe me, we still will all be talking about that at length sometime soon, but since you aren't really married, why the fuck do you care if you get divorced?"
"We're not supposed to," Mark says. "Why would we ever get divorced?"
Chris and Dustin both stare at him silently. Mark stares back.
"This situation," Dustin says, "just got a whole lot more complicated."
Mark isn't sure what finally got that point across, but he nods firmly. He's mildly confused when Chris and Dustin just shake their heads sadly at him in reply, but at least Chris isn't arguing with him anymore.
---
Mark manages to avoid Eduardo the rest of the day, but he can't escape the fact that they live in the same house.
That should go without saying, of course, but he's been a little distracted, so when he drives home and is confronted with Eduardo's car, he's still surprised.
But of course, Eduardo always gets home before he does. And Mark would be surprised if Chris hadn't been texting or emailing Eduardo today, because he can't imagine Eduardo wouldn't have texted both Chris and Dustin after Mark left, because he worries about Mark too much.
Eduardo says his name, sharp and earnest, as soon as he opens the front door, and Mark feels his stomach clench.
"Mark," Eduardo says. "Mark."
"What?" Mark snaps, since it seems Eduardo isn't going to stop repeating his name until he acknowledges him.
"I'm sorry for springing this on you," Eduardo says. "I know it's probably surprising." He steps closer to Mark, until he's a few feet away, the better to gauge Mark's every reaction.
Mark shrugs, discomfited.
"I just want to make sure you know-" Eduardo says, and he leans forward to grab Mark's hand, rubbing his thumb over the back while he stares at Mark as earnestly as possible. "-this has nothing to do with you. I'm not upset or leaving you or doing this for any reason beside the fact that I think it's time we both started moving on with our lives."
Mark has to look away. He feels childish for reacting badly. "I know," he says. He hadn't even thought about it.
"It probably won't even change anything, at least for a while," Eduardo says, smiling encouragingly when Mark glances reluctantly back at him. "I'm not even planning on moving out."
"Okay," Mark says, somewhat grudgingly, but he doesn't mind when Eduardo pulls him into a one-armed hug. Mark pats his back a little awkwardly and sighs, but most of the sinking feeling in his stomach is gone.
This won't change anything. So they'll get divorced. What does it matter if Eduardo isn't even planning on moving out? It won't change their lives at all. There's no way Eduardo is actually serious about whoever he thinks he's met; if he were, he would've mentioned them at least once, and Mark hasn't heard anything about it.
Eduardo sits in the study the rest of the night, possibly working but more likely trying to make himself work while he looks at pictures of kittens or architecture online. Mark usually sits in there with him, at the other desk or on the couch with his laptop, making fun of his happy noises at old castles and telling him they can't get a cat. Tonight, he wanders around, looking at their house.
It's always been their house, ever since they bought it. They have a joint bank account, because Eduardo handles all of that and they were allowed since they were married. Eduardo said it was easier, and Mark hadn't cared, since the sole extent of his interaction with his money is to swipe his debit card and run it as credit. He's not even sure he knows his PIN, never mind account numbers. He has no idea how much they have in it, only that he always has enough money for gas and food and the exorbitant bill when Eduardo drags him out once yearly to buy acceptable clothing.
Eduardo handles everything to do with money, from Facebook to utility bills, and it's their house but Mark doesn't even know for sure that the deed is in their names. He doesn't even-
-there are so many things he doesn't know, and it never mattered because Eduardo handled all of it, because that was his job. But now, if Eduardo wants a divorce, they're going to have to deal with all of that. Dividing assets and redefining Facebook shares, and Mark will have to think about things he's never had to think about.
Eduardo is going to owe him so much for this.
---
So they set the lawyers to draw up divorce contracts. It's actually a lot of work: nobody believes them when they say it's an uncontested affair, and everyone asks them warily about Facebook and how they're going to keep working together, and Mark gets tired in the first week of being asked how he's doing.
Eduardo doesn't get asked nearly as often as he does. Mark is offended. If anyone would be emotionally damaged by a divorce, it would be Eduardo. Mark is much more stable.
"They ask you more than him because you don't look like you're handling it very well," Chris says.
And that's bullshit. Mark looks just the same as always. He knows because Eduardo still does the same amount of nagging before letting him leave the house. Eduardo would notice if he looked odd.
"Oblivious and repressed is not the same thing as stable," Dustin adds.
And that's also bullshit. Mark is neither oblivious nor repressed.
"Let me guess, Eduardo would notice that, too," Chris says, rolling his eyes, but he sounds too sad for his wry expression.
Eduardo would, as a matter of fact, but Mark doesn't say so. He just frowns.
Mark reaches his breaking point the following Sunday.
It is partially the fault of the concerned, politely vague questions he'd gotten all week, from employees and business associates and their maid, who woke him Thursday when she came in to vacuum and he hadn't yet gotten out of bed. He was getting divorced, he was allowed to laze around. People attributed it to sadness.
Their maid certainly had. She's a middle-aged woman named Luz, and when she'd seen him still lying in bed at the late hour of nine forty-five in the morning, she'd clicked her tongue and hauled him out of bed with not a single hint of sympathy.
She'd cooked him breakfast - which Eduardo will kill Mark for, if he ever finds out; Mark likes Luz and she feeds him a lot, but she doesn't get paid to be their maid and their cook, and Eduardo would insist it isn't right to allow her to do the extra work without getting paid extra, and Luz would be offended in return at the implication she needed to be paid extra for the basic human decency she thinks she displays by keeping Mark alive and on a somewhat normal waking schedule - while telling him some elaborately incomprehensible story about her daughter or maybe her niece, who divorced her ex-husband and then either found the second love of her life or had watched him find the second love of his.
Both options sounded equally unappealing to Mark if he took the story as the object lesson she clearly meant it to be.
But the stifling, unwarranted concern came from too many sources. Mark doesn't know how everyone knows. They haven't exactly announced it.
"We never announced you two were married, either, and everyone managed to learn about that," Chris had said to Mark when Mark complained for possibly the sixth time.
"Yes, but the entire company knowing when there's only thirty of us is very different from the entire company knowing when there's thousands," Mark had said, but Chris hadn't acknowledged him.
He'd been glad to get out of the office on Friday, leaving about an hour after Eduardo had texted to say he was already at home and Mark wasn't planning on staying until all hours on a Friday, was he?
Eduardo had known very well that Mark had, and Mark had even responded that Eduardo could go back to his shows about crying women, but he'd gotten up to get food from the vending machine around the corner and had heard people talking about him, hissing at each other about whether or not the divorce was mutual, and who started proceedings, and how long their marriage had been having trouble. They disagreed on all of the above, but they sounded agreement when one of them said that nobody was surprised.
Mark had gone back to his office because if he'd gone around the corner, he would've identified the employees and fired all of them. Hunger and a sneaking discomfort had forced him home less than half an hour later.
Eduardo had sat up when Mark had come in, but instead of trying to force one of the stilted conversations they've had ever since Eduardo first brought up the topic of divorce, Eduardo had looked sympathetic and made room for Mark on the couch and said, "Yeah, me too. But at least now we'll have two days without it. Everyone will be better on Monday."
Mark hadn't responded, just shrugged and sat down, relieved Eduardo hadn't asked him to talk about the divorce. He had been trying to ask Mark about what he thought about certain mediators, handing him business cards Mark immediately threw away. Mark hadn't been in the mood to deal with it.
Half an hour of mind-numbing television had cured the worst of his irritation, and he'd gone into the study to work. He'd barely settled in when their home phone had rung.
This was a pretty unusual occurrence. They only had one because Mark's mother had insisted, and she and various family members were the only ones who ever called.
"That's going to be for you," Eduardo had yelled from the living room, and Mark had grabbed the phone reluctantly.
"Hi, Mom," he'd said, which was the beginning of the ruination of his weekend.
Mark had been treated to a good forty-five minutes of horrible conversation about the one thing he really didn't want to talk about at all. She knew why they'd gotten married, she knew it wasn't actually a romantic attachment, but she seemed to have completely forgotten that as she started with the dreaded question - "Are you sure you're alright, honey?" - and proceeded to lecture him about relationship responsibilities and grumble about not being the first one told, because his mother thought she had a right to all the developments in his life.
Mark only escaped the conversation by pleading exhaustion, and he'd be more appreciative of this divorce if it weren't so inconvenient, because she listened and immediately wished him goodnight.
But she's his mother, and she never keeps her mouth shut, and the rest of his family had started calling. They'd called all Friday night and into Saturday, his sisters and his aunts and his cousins and so on down the family tree, until Mark had known the people calling were doing it mostly from curiosity and not out of any real concern for him, because by the time he thought to unplug the phone, he was hearing from relatives he was sure he'd never met. Besides avoiding the phone calls, he'd spent most of Saturday morning pretending to sleep, because Eduardo had kept poking his head into Mark's room, looking talkative.
And Mark had no intention of talking.
Eduardo had given up shortly after noon, and Mark had hauled himself out of bed to work a little more. He sat in the study, and it wasn't until Chris called his cell several hours later that Mark had noticed Eduardo's continued absence.
"Can I come over?" Chris had asked, which meant he needed to talk about work because he didn't bother to ask, otherwise, and Mark had gotten up to ask Eduardo if he had a problem with that - he can get a little funny about his weekends being usurped by work, because he likes to pretend he's less of a workaholic than Mark - but hadn't been able to find him.
"What do you mean, he's not there?" Chris had asked, sounding disbelieving, and Mark had walked outside to check that, yes, Eduardo's car was gone.
"He's not here," Mark had said, and added, "There's no point coming over now. I'll text you tomorrow."
Mark had waited, and ordered in dinner, and waited some more, but when he had finally gone back to bed near three a.m. Eduardo still hadn't come back.
All told, by the time Mark wakes up late Sunday morning, he has had a terrible week and Eduardo's the cause of it. He's also the nearest target.
"Where the fuck were you?" Mark demands when he goes down to the kitchen and practically walks into Eduardo, who is dressed nicely but casually and has wet hair. He never showers in the morning. Mark narrows his eyes.
"I had a date," Eduardo says, and tilts his head a little when he smiles, his nervous tick. "I ended up staying over because we left my car at his place for the movie and dinner. I was a little drunk by the time we got back, and I didn't want to drive home."
"Chris wanted to talk to us," Mark says flatly, ignoring the implications of Eduardo's sleepover. "Work. I didn't know where you were."
"Sorry for not being available on a weekend," Eduardo says. "I mistakenly thought people were allowed to take a break and go out."
"Normal people," Mark says. "People who aren't responsible for part of a billion dollar company. I need to know where you are."
"Then you could've called," Eduardo says, obviously trying for patience. "Or even texted. I had my phone with me."
Mark grits his teeth. "That's not the point. You didn't tell me you were leaving. I needed you here."
"You needed me for work," Eduardo corrects him. "And it's a weekend."
"You have a job," Mark says. "Facebook doesn't stop needing a CFO just because you want to get drunk and get laid."
"What Facebook needs is not my priority every hour of every day," Eduardo says. "Hard as that may be for you to believe."
"Fuck you," Mark says, and he walks out of the kitchen.
---
Chris does come over that afternoon. He lets himself in and catches Mark in the kitchen - the study is Eduardo's; Mark has never been able to lay a permanent claim on it, and if he's going to be in there, working or not, Mark won't be - before pushing him into the study. "So you guys are getting a divorce."
Mark bites back everything he could say to that, because even Eduardo is looking at Chris as if he's being an idiot, and that's more effective than Mark's commentary could possibly be in this situation.
Chris returns Eduardo's look and says, "The richest gay couple in America. Founders of Facebook. You're getting divorced."
"Oh," Eduardo says.
"Yes, oh," Chris says, and pulls Eduardo out of the desk chair and nudges him toward the couch. Eduardo sits on the end opposite Mark and Chris takes command of the chair, crossing his legs and looking at them sternly.
"Did you need something?" Mark says.
"You're going to have to do press," Chris says.
"No," Mark says immediately, even as he sees Eduardo also open his mouth from the corner of his eye.
"Yes," Chris counters. "It's going to be a big deal. People will find out, and it will make the news. We either announce it and handle it ourselves from the beginning or you let the media get ahead of you."
"The fuck does the media matter," Mark says.
"It matters for Facebook," Chris says, and turns to Eduardo. "I don't know if you've checked your email, but I already sent you a tentative draft of a statement. We'll have you give one first. Mark can stay quiet a little longer. Everyone who knows already thinks he's moping anyway, it won't hurt to let that carry him a little further before he has to talk."
"I never have to talk," Mark says. "And if I do, I'm not going to pander to public opinion."
"Yes, you will," Chris says, "because otherwise, you'll make your life even more miserable than it's already going to be." He hesitates. "You have to understand. There could be a lot of backlash."
"How much is a lot?" Eduardo asks quietly while Mark glares at Chris and tries to decide how angry Dustin would be if Mark replaced Chris with someone who actually cares what Mark wants.
"I don't know," Chris says honestly. "It's not like I have any experience with this."
Eduardo sighs. "Yeah, I know."
Chris leaves shortly after, still ignoring Mark's attempts to dissuade him from any and all public communications. Eduardo sees him to the door and then corners Mark before Mark can escape again.
"Look," he says sternly. "I don't know why you're mad at me, but it needs to stop."
"Yes, you do," Mark says.
"Okay, yes," Eduardo says, looking a little bit guilty. "I do, but it still needs to stop."
Mark narrows his eyes and steps around him. He wonders if Dustin is busy, if Sean is. Sean probably is, but he'll let Mark come along.
"Mark," Eduardo says, more quietly. "I know this is difficult, even though we're not-I know, okay? But I don't want to lose you as my friend, too."
Mark stiffens. He turns around slowly, facing Eduardo again. "You're not."
"You said you were okay with it," Eduardo says. "You said that, and you seemed to be for a few days, but now you're-we're not friends if you won't even speak to me."
"I'll speak to you when I have something to say," Mark says.
Eduardo makes an exasperated noise. "Mark, come on," he complains.
"Fine," Mark snaps. "You want me to say something? How about this: I don't want to fucking get divorced."
Eduardo's face softens. "Oh," he says.
"That can't be surprising to you," Mark says. "You throw this at me, and you've met someone but you never felt the need to mention it, and you say things don't need to change but they already are."
"So you're angry at me," Eduardo says.
Mark narrows his eyes, because that ought to go without saying.
"Mark," Eduardo says. "I need you to talk to me."
Mark doesn't see the point. If he's not going to talk Eduardo out of all of this, there isn't one. He frowns harder.
Eduardo sighs. "This is why I didn't tell you about him, you know," he says. "Because you never talk to me. We haven't talked about anything but Facebook in months. Maybe years."
"That's not true," Mark says automatically.
The corner of Eduardo's mouth quirks up, just a little. "Prove me wrong."
This isn't a fair competition. Mark barely remembers half the conversations he has about Facebook, never mind the ones that aren't. There's no way he's going to remember a recent conversation that didn't have anything to do with-
"We talked about the divorce," Mark says.
"Uh, no," Eduardo says, and for once he's the one narrowing his eyes. "I made you tell me, twice, that you were okay with it, and now you're avoiding actually discussing it yet again."
Mark stares at him.
"Give up?" Eduardo prompts. "Admit I'm right?"
"What do you want," Mark grumbles.
Eduardo reaches out and curves his hand over Mark's shoulder, squeezing gently and nudging him back toward the couch. Mark lets himself be pushed, and Eduardo doesn't continue prodding until Mark is settled against one arm, facing Eduardo on the other end. Their ankles brush, because the couch isn't long enough to fit them both like this. "So," Eduardo says. "Why don't you want the divorce?"
"I wasn't expecting it," Mark says. He doesn't like change, Eduardo knows he doesn't. Change in his personal life means adjustments he has to make, and he barely has time to keep up with adjustments to Facebook. Where is he supposed to find the time and energy to adjust to changes in his life when he usually relies on the steady base it provides?
"I know," Eduardo says. "But why don't you want it?"
Mark frowns, looking at the wall. "Why would I?"
"Answer the question," Eduardo says, unusually militant.
"It makes things change, and it's a lot of work, and I don't like that I wasn't expecting it. You didn't tell me anything or give me hints," Mark says, in a rush, then stares harder at the wall.
"Well," Eduardo says slowly. "I guess I don't blame you. I knew you'd react badly, and I wasn't even sure I was serious, so I didn't tell you about any of it."
"You're sure you're serious now?" Mark asks. He risks a glance up in time to see Eduardo hesitate.
"I don't know," Eduardo says. "But it's serious enough that it's made me think. And we'll need to get divorced eventually."
Mark keeps hearing that. Keeps getting told in one form or another that friendship and business partnership and common interests and comfort with each other aren't good enough reasons to stay married. He isn't going to complain about that to Eduardo, though, because he also doesn't know how to explain why he feels like they are. He certainly never pictured himself married to Eduardo, or possibly to anyone, but now it's one of the indelible facts of his life. Sex or not, romance or not, Eduardo is his husband.
Mark shrugs.
Eduardo sighs again. "Fine," he says. "I guess we've hit your limit for talking. I know to take what I can get. God forbid we ever talk about anything important, even about something like this."
"We have talked about everything important," Mark says. "You want to get divorced. There's no real reason not to. So we'll get divorced."
"Just like that," Eduardo says. "Because I want to."
Mark shrugs. "If it'll make you happy."
He stands up, feeling itchy in his skin, and he half expects Eduardo to stop him but he doesn't. When Mark looks back, he's just sitting on the couch with a tight, thoughtful expression, and Mark has more than done his duty tonight.
Part Two