Fic: Boy, It’s More Than I Dare (to Think About) [TSN, Mark/Eduardo]
Title: Boy, It’s More Than I Dare (to Think About)
Fandom: The Social Network
Pairing: Mark/Eduardo, past Eduardo/Other
Rating: R/NC-17 overall.
Warnings: Voyeurism, underage sex, bondage, and orgasm denial. [That should be about it, I think.]
Word count: ~4,750
Summary: Mark’s starting to feel a slight twinge of regret and a little embarrassment at coming across something so intimate about his best friend, but he can’t help himself. Especially not when Eduardo’s looking like that-all young and disheveled, still half-dressed in his school uniform as some guy, named Rodrigo apparently, licks a line down his throat, all the while trying to finish unbuttoning his shirt.
Notes: Originally written for this prompt-Mark finds out that Eduardo was kind of a slut as a teenager. Title from Kylie Minogue's Can't Get You Out of My Head. This is actually the first thing I considered writing for TSN, so there's hope I can actually finish things I start. Um. Yeah. In any case, I may have diverged from the prompt a little, but I think it still works. Possibly.
Alternately, you can read it here at AO3.
---
Mark doesn't mean to stumble over Eduardo’s journal. It just happens. And through no fault of his own.
He’s not snooping around or anything. After all, Mark has better things to do with his time than waste it being some sort of nosy voyeuristic type. He's also pretty sure that invasion of privacy doesn't count as very good best friend behavior. Or whatever it is he and Eduardo are, now that they've thrown hooking up in the mix. (Though, this is apparently something they only do when there’s alcohol involved. Mark's still not positive who exactly made that call. They don’t really talk about it. And he’s absolutely not in denial, no matter what Chris and Dustin say.)
It's getting kind of late now and Mark should probably be catching up on some sleep (it’s only been a few hours since he was forcibly dragged away from his last coding tear), but really, he's still pretty wired from the all the residual Red Bull in his system and bored as hell since Eduardo abandoned him here in his single not too long ago for some last-minute econ study group, so maybe Mark lets his curiosity get the better of him and starts poking around the room. (By now, Eduardo should know better than to leave Mark unattended for extended periods of time.)
Mark did not anticipate the journal literally falling into his hands as soon as he opens Eduardo’s desk drawer. Which is mainly why it ends up tumbling to the floor, small bits of paper and various other objects flying messily everywhere.
--
Clearly, Mark has to clean this mess up. And it's hardly an invasion of privacy if the things in question are lying open for all to see. (Sure, Mark may have accidentally knocked over everything, leading them to be out in the open, but that’s beside the point.) Mark doesn’t think that Wardo hides anything from him anyway-at least, he’s mostly positive Eduardo would show him whatever the hell’s in here if Mark ever bothered to ask or feign interest in his personal affairs to begin with. But then again, journals do tend to be deeply personal.
Mark brushes the thought off. Eduardo’s his best friend and he’s a little curious. There’s no crime in that.
He shrugs to himself and bends down to pick everything up. There’s a few photos-Eduardo, looking a little younger and tanner, laughing with presumably his friends and relatives. Mark tucks those back into one of the journal’s side-pockets. There’s also a bunch of old notes from various classes, a couple business cards and a few slightly wrinkled scraps of paper, which upon closer inspection, look to be messily scribbled names and phone numbers. One of them even has a ruby red imprint of kiss on it, next to the words, Call me. It’s signed with the initials, TS, next to a tiny heart.
Mark frowns at that. He tries not to think about the significance of Wardo keeping all of these in his private journal. He also doesn’t attempt to cross-reference the names with anything he might’ve heard before. Mark’s relatively sure he’d remember any mention of a Laura or a Gloria or a James, for that matter. It’s somewhat unnerving to think about Wardo with someone else. (Even if it’s for something as innocent as a study date or a cup of coffee.)
Mark’s even more unprepared to see it. There’s a photo strip he must’ve missed, still on the floor by the corner of the desk. It’s one of those instant photobooth sheets. He quickly flips it over to see Eduardo’s familiar profile. Mark isn’t quite certain what to make of the attractive young man draped all over him, apparently sucking a hickey into his neck. The next frame doesn’t get much better. Or the one after that.
Mark’s torn between finding the photos of Eduardo practically having sex in a public setting vaguely appalling (and more than a little inappropriate) or ridiculously hot.
Mark settles for the latter, but puts the photos back where they belong and quickly scans the room for anything else he might’ve missed.
There’s nothing but a small square packet left on the ground. Mark groans internally. This is probably not going to end well.
The envelope is unmarked, which naturally makes it all the more intriguing. The disc inside is simply labeled in black marker with Eduardo’s initials and dated about two years ago.
It’s probably only porn, but Mark’s got nothing better to do for the next hour or so. And judging from the other contents of Eduardo’s journal, it might even be worth it. (Okay, so maybe Mark secretly hopes there’s something extremely sordid on it like Eduardo in all kinds of compromising positions, but how realistic would that be considering how put-together and proper and just plain gentlemanly Wardo is all the time.)
There’s only one way to find out.
He puts the DVD in.
--
It takes forever for the thing to start up on Eduardo’s ancient laptop so Mark busies himself with whatever else is in the journal.
He doesn’t read any of what Eduardo’s written-that’s a line, even Mark knows never to cross. But he figures the stuff that tumbled to the ground earlier is free range.
There’s a bunch of notes Mark initially overlooked. One of them must've been left the morning after, if the sentiments expressed are to be believed. Apparently, Alex, (whose gender is unclear from the handwriting) wanted to thank Eduardo for a fantastic time. There’s also something complimentary about Eduardo being loose and long-limbed and flexible beyond belief.
Mark’s mind suddenly gets flooded with various images of Wardo in a number of interesting positions, to say the least. It’s not exactly an unpleasant train of thought.
--
So what if Mark spends a considerable amount of time thinking about Eduardo in that way. A little more than some (namely Chris and Dustin) would consider healthy anyway. It's hardly his fault that Eduardo is maybe unnaturally good-looking. Mark is more than well aware that he’s not alone in this assessment.
Plenty of girls and a few brazen guys seem to have no qualms whatsoever about approaching Eduardo whenever they’re out together-whether it’s grabbing a quick bite at one of the dining halls or getting drinks at one of the local bars that doesn’t card. Quite frankly, it’s getting kind of irritating. Maybe he and Wardo aren’t together in the technical sense, but random strangers don’t know that-so Mark having to sit through their painfully awkward attempts at picking Eduardo up is really uncalled for and more than a bit presumptuous. (As far as Mark knows, Eduardo’s never taken anyone up on their offer. He’s not exactly sure why that fills him with a certain sense of relief. But it does.)
And it's not like he doesn't notice Chris surreptitiously watching Eduardo every so often, trying so very hard to be subtle about the way he studies the line of Wardo's throat when he takes a particularly long drink from his beer.
Mark's pretty sure he's even caught Dustin drunkenly checking out Eduardo's assets so to speak. Apparently, rampant heterosexuality isn't enough of a deterrent.
There's also the possibility that all of them just really need to get laid. Which brings him back to the question at hand-is it really so bad that Mark’s about to watch what may or may not be Eduardo’s secret, hidden porn?
--
The first thought that goes through Mark’s mind as the DVD’s finally starting up for real, is to wonder why the hell Wardo doesn’t have all his porn digitized and saved on his laptop like every other person their age. Though Eduardo can randomly be a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to the most obscure things, Mark supposes.
His train of thought gets slightly derailed when he hears a moan coming faintly through the speakers. A moan that sounds suspiciously like Eduardo’s.
Mark’s eyes widen and he directs all his attention to the laptop screen. The view’s somewhat shaky at first, but the camera soon focuses on Eduardo’s face, up close and personal. He’s noticeably younger and maybe a little more wide-eyed, but still unreasonably attractive.
Mark can clearly see that Wardo’s pupils are dilated, his lips a little redder than normal and he looks flushed.
Eduardo leans back, revealing another guy around his age, sprawled across a twin-sized bed. Both of them are wearing uniforms with some school insignia emblazoned on their ties and jackets.
The Eduardo on camera is still tall and unnaturally lanky, but he’s even slimmer and slightly less filled out around the shoulders. It’s especially noticeable once he slips his blazer off and loosens the tie around his neck.
Mark admits it’s a little weird, seeing him like this-an Eduardo that’s not quite the one he knows now, but so very close. The difference a few years makes.
Mark’s not blind. This Wardo is just about as hot as the current one. Maybe a little more like jailbait though. But he’s definitely in no position to complain.
There’s the slightest pang of something that may or may not be jealousy in Mark’s chest as he watches the unknown guy pull Eduardo by the tie, into a messy kiss, tongue licking into Wardo’s mouth, forcing a moan from him.
Mark watches as Wardo pulls back, visibly blushing. He eyes the camera a little warily, but relaxes a little after the guy gets a mischievous look in his eye and whispers something in Eduardo’s ear, before licking at the shell and nipping at it.
Eduardo gasps at that, before slapping him playfully on the arm and admonishing him with a stern-sounding, but still teasing, “Rodrigo.”
Mark’s starting to feel a slight twinge of regret and a little embarrassment at coming across something so intimate about his best friend, but he can’t help himself. Especially not when Eduardo’s looking like that-all young and disheveled, still half-dressed in his school uniform as some guy, named Rodrigo apparently, licks a line down his throat, all the while trying to finish unbuttoning his shirt.
Jesus.
Mark’s going to need a minute to process this.
--
Mark has an internal debate for a moment or two over whether he should keep watching or do the responsible thing by putting everything back in the journal and pretend like he never found it to begin with.
He decides to fast-forward through the DVD, while he deliberates. It’s clearly the best way to make a well-informed decision.
Mark’s resolve breaks as soon as he sees seventeen fucking year old Eduardo practically tearing his companion’s shirt off, which allows him to start trailing kisses messily down his now bare chest. Mark resumes the video at normal speed. He maybe also raises the volume into something more audible. Loud even.
Mark looks on intently as Eduardo mouths at Rodrigo’s cock through his underwear, before pulling them down, at a teasingly slow pace (if the slightly hitched breathing is any indication), to get at the real thing.
Rodrigo makes a strangled noise at the contact. Mark understands the sentiment. Completely.
He continues to stare at the monitor, utterly hypnotized by the way Wardo licks at the head of Rodrigo’s cock, experimentally at first, but then far more enthusiastically. He then watches as Eduardo glances up at Rodrigo, eyes dark with lust, his mouth so, so red and spit-slicked and shiny and god, the noises he’s making are beyond obscene.
Mark actually groans out loud when Eduardo suddenly drops almost completely out of view. This is perhaps a slight indication that maybe he’s a bit too invested in following this.
Luckily for Mark, Eduardo’s bed partner reaches over him to adjust the camera, angling down so Mark has a perfect shot of Eduardo shimmying out of the rest of his clothes in some sort of striptease. First the belt goes, getting thrown somewhere off-camera and then the overly formal slacks. Eduardo raises his eyebrows suggestively at Rodrigo, who’s been eagerly watching the impromptu show, before grinning widely and reaching for his boxer-briefs, pulling them down, one tantalizing inch at a time.
Shit, this is like one of Mark’s fantasies come to life. His eyes roam all over Wardo’s gloriously naked body, committing the sight to memory.
It’s so good that Mark doesn’t even notice that he’s been subconsciously rubbing at his own hard-on through his jeans the entire time.
Mark freezes mid-stroke as soon as realizes this fact.
--
Still half-frozen in horror, Mark stares down at his traitorous hand.
Onscreen, Eduardo’s progressed to moaning loudly around Rodrigo’s cock, trying to swallow as much of him down as physically possible as he threads his fingers through Wardo’s already ridiculously messy hair and just holds on. Mark thinks he faintly hears him say something to Wardo that makes him work at swallowing with more enthusiasm than Mark thought possible.
Mark’s so absorbed in following Eduardo’s every move onscreen, that he doesn’t notice the sound of a key unlocking the front door until it’s almost too late.
"Mark?" Eduardo's voice calls out from outside. "Did you leave already?"
Right before Eduardo swings the door open and steps into view, Mark barely manages to snap the laptop closed, but there’s no mistaking the way he's slightly flushed and out of breath. And there’s really no getting around the fact that Mark’s still mostly half-hard in his jeans.
"Hey, you’re still here.” Eduardo grins brightly at him, before he sees the state Mark’s in and his eyes widen in surprise and realization. "Jesus, Mark. What the hell-were you watching my porn?”
As it turns out, closing the laptop cover does absolutely nothing to turn the DVD player off and the two of them soon hear a bitten-off moan among a few other suggestive noises.
Mark can see the moment Eduardo realizes what exactly is still playing. He flushes an alarming shade of red and curses under his breath before moving to grab the laptop to shut the thing down for real.
Mark is so totally fucked.
--
“I went to boarding school, Mark.” Eduardo explains, still blushing furiously. “When things got boring, sometimes we had to be a little, uh, creative with our spare time,” he manages to get out. If Mark’s being honest, it’s kind of endearing how easily embarrassed Wardo is, especially considering all the onscreen debauchery of his misspent youth or whatever.
Mark still can’t quite get over the image of Eduardo in a preppy school uniform, not unlike on the DVD-messily buttoned up shirt, tie askance, hair disheveled beyond belief because someone’s run their hands messily through them-it’s more than a little distracting.
“Because amateur twink porn is the perfect time-killer,” is what Mark ends up saying, his tone a little short.
Eduardo reddens even further at that. “What the fuck, Mark? Why were you even going through my stuff in the first place?” He snaps back, clearly annoyed.
“It was all completely accidental, I assure you.” Mark replies, somewhat flippantly. “But that’s beside the point. I want to hear about this Rodrigo guy. Did you two do this type of thing a lot? Or was it just-”
Eduardo cuts him off with a frustrated noise. “It’s not like that. Drigo was my first real boy-wait,” he narrows his eyes at Mark. “Why are you being so weird about this? Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t seen or spoken to him since graduation.”
Mark flushes slightly at that. “Watching you two, uh, together, may have stirred some feelings in me that I didn’t realize were there to begin with,” he admits.
“Care to be a little more specific? From where I was standing, it kinda looked like you were getting off on going through my personal effects.” Eduardo shoots back, but his expression is noticeably softer than it was a moment ago.
“Okay, okay.” Mark relents. “I deserve that. Look, Wardo-I may have been a little unclear about our, um, situation.” He gestures vaguely between them.
“And now?”
Mark shrugs. “Maybe we should try being, you know, a thing. Dating or whatever.”
Wardo rolls his eyes at that. “Who could refuse such a romantic and heart-felt declaration?” He shakes his head, before looking up at Mark, eyes serious. “I’m sorry, but I’m having a really hard time believing that you’re suddenly okay with us hooking up sans alcohol.”
“I’m being serious here, Wardo.” Mark frowns, a little confusedly. "Wait-who came up with this idiotic drinking policy anyway?"
Eduardo turns to glare at him. “Are you kidding me?”
Mark just stares blankly back.
"Jesus, Mark. You did," Wardo exclaims, half in frustration and in disbelief. "You said you didn't want to mess with our dynamic, but if we were drinking, there would be plausible deniability or something.” Eduardo runs a hand messily through his hair. “I didn’t want to argue because, well, I figured this was the only way I could have you,” he confesses, slightly flustered.
"Oh." Mark pauses at that, considering. "Well, that's regrettable."
Eduardo rolls his eyes at him, but doesn’t say anything in response.
"Okay, then.” Mark begins, resolutely. “Now that I am more than willing and comfortable enough to explore my burgeoning sexuality or whatever with you, I say we forget about this old rule.”
Eduardo gives him a somewhat skeptical look. “You mean you seriously want to start dating?”
“Well, yeah.” Mark frowns. “Unless I'm completely wrong in reading you right now, which I highly doubt, I think you want the same thing." He points out matter-of-factly.
Eduardo still looks a little uneasy at the whole prospect. "Obviously, but-"
Mark waves him off. "What's the problem then?"
Wardo makes a loud noise of frustration. "Have you ever considered actually listening to my opinion?”
"Wait-what?" Mark’s unsure why he’s making such a big deal out of this.
“And let’s not forget about this massive invasion of my privacy.” Wardo points out. “God, Mark. These things are so not easily forgivable.”
Mark studies him for a moment, not entirely sure if Eduardo’s being serious or not. “Do you really want an apology?”
Eduardo makes a face like he’s pondering that, but shakes his head. “Nah, I think I’ve got a better idea.”
Mark’s positive he recognizes the mischievous gleam in his eye.
--
They end up on Eduardo’s bed.
Eduardo didn’t mention what exactly the plan was before more or less cornering Mark and tumbling them both back against his regrettably small bed.
Mark’s really not going to complain when Eduardo’s in the process of sucking a hickey into Mark’s neck, right below his jaw, where anyone can see. Just the idea of that gives him a little thrill.
All of sudden, Wardo pulls away. “You never told me what you thought.”
Mark gives him a confused look. “What about?”
Eduardo doesn’t answer right away, instead pulling him into a messy kiss, before shifting so he can whisper in Mark’s ear. “My onscreen performance, of course.” Wardo grazes the shell with his teeth. “Was it everything you imagined?”
Mark shivers as Eduardo pulls back to look at him expectantly, but manages to respond in a steady voice. “I’m finding the real thing to be a hell of a lot better.”
Eduardo’s answering smile is actually kind of breathtaking.
--
Not too long after, Eduardo deftly moves to straddle Mark, but makes absolutely sure not to touch any part of him. He does, however, lean in close enough for Mark to see how aroused he is, his pupils just as dilated as they were onscreen only a couple of minutes ago.
Mark’s pretty sure this is what dying feels like.
"I think you need to learn a few basic things about privacy-mainly about respecting personal property and leaving my things alone. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.” Eduardo emphasizes his point by poking a finger in Mark’s chest hard enough to make him wince a little. But mostly, he’s finding the authoritative tone incredibly hot.
Mark rolls his eyes. “I don’t think this is the, uh, appropriate time-oh, fuck.” He has no idea how Eduardo managed to get his pants unbuckled enough to slide his hand down the front of them, that quickly.
Eduardo runs a finger gently down Mark’s cock, making him shiver from the slight contact, before wrapping his entire hand around it and squeezing. Mark maybe makes an undignified noise at that.
“You ready to listen now?” Eduardo asks, teasingly, but there’s an undercurrent of danger in his voice.
Mark swallows hard, nodding roughly.
Eduardo’s grin at that is simply wicked. He switches gears completely-Mark can clearly see the shift from annoyance into something far more seductive.
“Don’t move.” Eduardo warns, sternly pointing at Mark as he gracefully makes his way off the bed. “Not a single muscle.”
Mark nods, but really, he’s far too turned on to even try to move right now.
Eduardo turns to rummage for something in his closet. Mark just exhales shakily, staring at the sleek line of his back. He has no idea what Eduardo has in store, that is, until he returns with two of his silk ties in hand and an absolutely salacious expression on his face.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Mark’s learning all sorts of things about Eduardo tonight.
--
Eduardo quickly gets the ties fastened securely, but not painfully so, around each of Mark’s wrists and tightens them around his headboard. Mark briefly tests Eduardo’s knot-tying abilities by giving each a tug, but they don’t budge an inch. The material is soft and smooth to the touch, but he knows that any extensive pulling at his restraints will probably lead to bruising. Or worse.
Eduardo smirks at Mark, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Most of his shirt’s already undone-sliding off his shoulder to reveal smooth tan skin that Mark really wants to run his mouth all over. Well, if it weren’t for the fucking restraints rendering him mostly immobile.
He thinks Eduardo can sense his frustration because he starts running his hands up Mark’s shirt, stroking at all the bare skin, before pushing the material up and kissing down his chest, reminiscent of what Mark watched on the DVD. It feels even better than it looked onscreen.
--
Mark’s so fucking close right now, with Eduardo rubbing against him frantically, their hips moving in tandem, his hand tightening in Mark’s hair, roughly enough to hurt so good, just a little more and-fuck.
Nothing. Because Eduardo completely backs off, gripping Mark tightly at the base of his cock, ensuring that he can’t come.
“Jesus,” Mark grits out, glaring at Eduardo. They’re both mostly out of breath and panting. Mark’s finding it a little hard to stay mad at someone who looks like that right now and not to mention, has a hand on his dick, but the situation sort of calls for it.
But Eduardo doesn’t look the least bit apologetic, half-shrugging, as he continues to work at his own cock, while keeping a firm grip on Mark’s with his other hand. There’s nothing Mark can do other than to watch intensely at the mesmerizing way Eduardo strokes at his cock, his eyes never leaving Mark’s.
It doesn’t take too long for Eduardo to come all over Mark’s stomach, still exposed from when Eduardo pushed his shirt up earlier. Mark clenches his fist, wishing he could reach forward and run his hands through Wardo’s hair, all over his skin, along his cock-he just wants to be able to touch Eduardo.
Mark watches as Wardo takes a moment to get his breath back, panting heavily against Mark’s thigh, hand still gripping the base of his cock, though not as tightly as earlier.
Eduardo moves forward and for a split second, Mark has the faintest bit of hope that this excruciating bit of punishment’s finally over. He holds his breath in anticipation as Wardo leans down to mouth the tip of his cock, tongue darting out to lick at the slit. It feels so fucking intense. Mark closes his eyes to take in the sensation.
And just like that, it’s gone.
Oh, god.
--
“Wait-you’re just leaving me here? Like this,” Mark manages to bite out, incredulous and more than a little annoyed, as he gestures to the way his pants are mostly undone, cock still visibly hard.
“I think it’s a suitable punishment.” Eduardo smirks. “Invasion of privacy and all that.”
Mark stares at him open-mouthed.
“You didn’t think-oh.” Eduardo tilts his head to the side. “Maybe I should’ve made this clear earlier.” He leans in, his mouth right by Mark’s ear. “I don’t tend to reward people who go through my personal belongings with sex.” He sits back and looks Mark straight in the eye. “You understand.”
Mark’s definitely beginning to see how calculating Eduardo can be. It’s really rather attractive. Not that he needed any more ammunition in that department.
“This is your room,” Mark points out. “You can’t just leave.”
Eduardo doesn’t look terribly concerned about that. “I think maybe I’ll crash at yours tonight. Who knows what sort of trouble I’ll get myself into in your room,” he gives Mark a suggestive look, while licking at his still reddened lips. “All alone in your bed.”
Mark’s breathing stops at that. But then he remembers that he’s tied up to Wardo’s own bed, which is getting kind of old. And fast. There’s also the fact that Mark’s still hard and he can feel his wrists starting to chafe slightly. This probably won’t end well.
“You can’t go out looking like that.” Mark complains. Eduardo looks thoroughly debauched. Mark feels a little sense of pride at knowing that he did all of that. But he’s not so sure he wants anyone else to see Wardo in this ridiculously appealing state.
Eduardo shrugs. “I probably shouldn’t, but I don’t think you’ll be able to stop me in your, uh, condition.” He finishes, looking faintly amused at Mark’s current predicament.
“Fine.” Mark relents, still glaring at him. “How do I make you not leave right now?”
“I’m afraid that’s not an option.” Eduardo looks faintly apologetic. “But don’t worry, I’ll be sure to tell everyone that we’re exclusive as soon as you get me a promise ring,” he teases gently.
“That’s not what I meant.” Though Mark does feel a little more at ease after hearing Wardo mention exclusivity. “Dustin and Chris will totally ask questions when you show up there without me,” Mark notes. “Especially when they see all of that.” He tries to gesture at Eduardo’s appearance with his foot.
Eduardo laughs slightly at his efforts. “They’re our friends.” He raises an eyebrow, giving Mark a knowing look. “They’ve also seen us both drunk and half-naked more times than I can remember. I think I can manage.”
“So to clarify, yet again, you’re actually going to leave me here?” Mark half-whines. He’s getting close to groveling, if that’s what it’ll take to get Wardo to untie him. Or at least undo a single restraint. It’s been at least an hour, Mark needs to come.
Eduardo leans over to press a kiss onto Mark’s forehead. He then moves down until his lips ghost over Mark’s own-not quite touching, but close enough to feel the heat from his mouth when Eduardo says, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back to untie you.” He sits back on his heels and gives Mark a mischievous look. “At some point.”
Mark watches in pure agony as Wardo shrugs his shirt back on properly and fixes the buttons on it. He still kind of looks ridiculously debauched-his hair’s a complete mess and there are faint bite marks starting to show, all along the side of his throat and jaw-line. Mark really wants to add to them. He also really wants to get off.
Eduardo takes the opportunity to lightly trace the line of Mark’s cock, one last time, clearly enjoying the way Mark trembles at the fleeting contact, biting his lip in frustration and pleasure. He gives Mark a quick peck on the lips before turning to leave.
“I’ll see you later, Mark.” Eduardo calls over his shoulder, before grabbing his keys off his desk and making his way out. The door slams shut behind him.
“Wardo?” Mark practically shouts into the empty room, hoping, praying even, that this is just a terrible, terrible joke and his punishment’s more than over and Eduardo’s actually just waiting right outside the door.
There’s no response.
Fuck.
--
End.
Fandom: The Social Network
Pairing: Mark/Eduardo, past Eduardo/Other
Rating: R/NC-17 overall.
Warnings: Voyeurism, underage sex, bondage, and orgasm denial. [That should be about it, I think.]
Word count: ~4,750
Summary: Mark’s starting to feel a slight twinge of regret and a little embarrassment at coming across something so intimate about his best friend, but he can’t help himself. Especially not when Eduardo’s looking like that-all young and disheveled, still half-dressed in his school uniform as some guy, named Rodrigo apparently, licks a line down his throat, all the while trying to finish unbuttoning his shirt.
Notes: Originally written for this prompt-Mark finds out that Eduardo was kind of a slut as a teenager. Title from Kylie Minogue's Can't Get You Out of My Head. This is actually the first thing I considered writing for TSN, so there's hope I can actually finish things I start. Um. Yeah. In any case, I may have diverged from the prompt a little, but I think it still works. Possibly.
Alternately, you can read it here at AO3.
---
Mark doesn't mean to stumble over Eduardo’s journal. It just happens. And through no fault of his own.
He’s not snooping around or anything. After all, Mark has better things to do with his time than waste it being some sort of nosy voyeuristic type. He's also pretty sure that invasion of privacy doesn't count as very good best friend behavior. Or whatever it is he and Eduardo are, now that they've thrown hooking up in the mix. (Though, this is apparently something they only do when there’s alcohol involved. Mark's still not positive who exactly made that call. They don’t really talk about it. And he’s absolutely not in denial, no matter what Chris and Dustin say.)
It's getting kind of late now and Mark should probably be catching up on some sleep (it’s only been a few hours since he was forcibly dragged away from his last coding tear), but really, he's still pretty wired from the all the residual Red Bull in his system and bored as hell since Eduardo abandoned him here in his single not too long ago for some last-minute econ study group, so maybe Mark lets his curiosity get the better of him and starts poking around the room. (By now, Eduardo should know better than to leave Mark unattended for extended periods of time.)
Mark did not anticipate the journal literally falling into his hands as soon as he opens Eduardo’s desk drawer. Which is mainly why it ends up tumbling to the floor, small bits of paper and various other objects flying messily everywhere.
--
Clearly, Mark has to clean this mess up. And it's hardly an invasion of privacy if the things in question are lying open for all to see. (Sure, Mark may have accidentally knocked over everything, leading them to be out in the open, but that’s beside the point.) Mark doesn’t think that Wardo hides anything from him anyway-at least, he’s mostly positive Eduardo would show him whatever the hell’s in here if Mark ever bothered to ask or feign interest in his personal affairs to begin with. But then again, journals do tend to be deeply personal.
Mark brushes the thought off. Eduardo’s his best friend and he’s a little curious. There’s no crime in that.
He shrugs to himself and bends down to pick everything up. There’s a few photos-Eduardo, looking a little younger and tanner, laughing with presumably his friends and relatives. Mark tucks those back into one of the journal’s side-pockets. There’s also a bunch of old notes from various classes, a couple business cards and a few slightly wrinkled scraps of paper, which upon closer inspection, look to be messily scribbled names and phone numbers. One of them even has a ruby red imprint of kiss on it, next to the words, Call me. It’s signed with the initials, TS, next to a tiny heart.
Mark frowns at that. He tries not to think about the significance of Wardo keeping all of these in his private journal. He also doesn’t attempt to cross-reference the names with anything he might’ve heard before. Mark’s relatively sure he’d remember any mention of a Laura or a Gloria or a James, for that matter. It’s somewhat unnerving to think about Wardo with someone else. (Even if it’s for something as innocent as a study date or a cup of coffee.)
Mark’s even more unprepared to see it. There’s a photo strip he must’ve missed, still on the floor by the corner of the desk. It’s one of those instant photobooth sheets. He quickly flips it over to see Eduardo’s familiar profile. Mark isn’t quite certain what to make of the attractive young man draped all over him, apparently sucking a hickey into his neck. The next frame doesn’t get much better. Or the one after that.
Mark’s torn between finding the photos of Eduardo practically having sex in a public setting vaguely appalling (and more than a little inappropriate) or ridiculously hot.
Mark settles for the latter, but puts the photos back where they belong and quickly scans the room for anything else he might’ve missed.
There’s nothing but a small square packet left on the ground. Mark groans internally. This is probably not going to end well.
The envelope is unmarked, which naturally makes it all the more intriguing. The disc inside is simply labeled in black marker with Eduardo’s initials and dated about two years ago.
It’s probably only porn, but Mark’s got nothing better to do for the next hour or so. And judging from the other contents of Eduardo’s journal, it might even be worth it. (Okay, so maybe Mark secretly hopes there’s something extremely sordid on it like Eduardo in all kinds of compromising positions, but how realistic would that be considering how put-together and proper and just plain gentlemanly Wardo is all the time.)
There’s only one way to find out.
He puts the DVD in.
--
It takes forever for the thing to start up on Eduardo’s ancient laptop so Mark busies himself with whatever else is in the journal.
He doesn’t read any of what Eduardo’s written-that’s a line, even Mark knows never to cross. But he figures the stuff that tumbled to the ground earlier is free range.
There’s a bunch of notes Mark initially overlooked. One of them must've been left the morning after, if the sentiments expressed are to be believed. Apparently, Alex, (whose gender is unclear from the handwriting) wanted to thank Eduardo for a fantastic time. There’s also something complimentary about Eduardo being loose and long-limbed and flexible beyond belief.
Mark’s mind suddenly gets flooded with various images of Wardo in a number of interesting positions, to say the least. It’s not exactly an unpleasant train of thought.
--
So what if Mark spends a considerable amount of time thinking about Eduardo in that way. A little more than some (namely Chris and Dustin) would consider healthy anyway. It's hardly his fault that Eduardo is maybe unnaturally good-looking. Mark is more than well aware that he’s not alone in this assessment.
Plenty of girls and a few brazen guys seem to have no qualms whatsoever about approaching Eduardo whenever they’re out together-whether it’s grabbing a quick bite at one of the dining halls or getting drinks at one of the local bars that doesn’t card. Quite frankly, it’s getting kind of irritating. Maybe he and Wardo aren’t together in the technical sense, but random strangers don’t know that-so Mark having to sit through their painfully awkward attempts at picking Eduardo up is really uncalled for and more than a bit presumptuous. (As far as Mark knows, Eduardo’s never taken anyone up on their offer. He’s not exactly sure why that fills him with a certain sense of relief. But it does.)
And it's not like he doesn't notice Chris surreptitiously watching Eduardo every so often, trying so very hard to be subtle about the way he studies the line of Wardo's throat when he takes a particularly long drink from his beer.
Mark's pretty sure he's even caught Dustin drunkenly checking out Eduardo's assets so to speak. Apparently, rampant heterosexuality isn't enough of a deterrent.
There's also the possibility that all of them just really need to get laid. Which brings him back to the question at hand-is it really so bad that Mark’s about to watch what may or may not be Eduardo’s secret, hidden porn?
--
The first thought that goes through Mark’s mind as the DVD’s finally starting up for real, is to wonder why the hell Wardo doesn’t have all his porn digitized and saved on his laptop like every other person their age. Though Eduardo can randomly be a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to the most obscure things, Mark supposes.
His train of thought gets slightly derailed when he hears a moan coming faintly through the speakers. A moan that sounds suspiciously like Eduardo’s.
Mark’s eyes widen and he directs all his attention to the laptop screen. The view’s somewhat shaky at first, but the camera soon focuses on Eduardo’s face, up close and personal. He’s noticeably younger and maybe a little more wide-eyed, but still unreasonably attractive.
Mark can clearly see that Wardo’s pupils are dilated, his lips a little redder than normal and he looks flushed.
Eduardo leans back, revealing another guy around his age, sprawled across a twin-sized bed. Both of them are wearing uniforms with some school insignia emblazoned on their ties and jackets.
The Eduardo on camera is still tall and unnaturally lanky, but he’s even slimmer and slightly less filled out around the shoulders. It’s especially noticeable once he slips his blazer off and loosens the tie around his neck.
Mark admits it’s a little weird, seeing him like this-an Eduardo that’s not quite the one he knows now, but so very close. The difference a few years makes.
Mark’s not blind. This Wardo is just about as hot as the current one. Maybe a little more like jailbait though. But he’s definitely in no position to complain.
There’s the slightest pang of something that may or may not be jealousy in Mark’s chest as he watches the unknown guy pull Eduardo by the tie, into a messy kiss, tongue licking into Wardo’s mouth, forcing a moan from him.
Mark watches as Wardo pulls back, visibly blushing. He eyes the camera a little warily, but relaxes a little after the guy gets a mischievous look in his eye and whispers something in Eduardo’s ear, before licking at the shell and nipping at it.
Eduardo gasps at that, before slapping him playfully on the arm and admonishing him with a stern-sounding, but still teasing, “Rodrigo.”
Mark’s starting to feel a slight twinge of regret and a little embarrassment at coming across something so intimate about his best friend, but he can’t help himself. Especially not when Eduardo’s looking like that-all young and disheveled, still half-dressed in his school uniform as some guy, named Rodrigo apparently, licks a line down his throat, all the while trying to finish unbuttoning his shirt.
Jesus.
Mark’s going to need a minute to process this.
--
Mark has an internal debate for a moment or two over whether he should keep watching or do the responsible thing by putting everything back in the journal and pretend like he never found it to begin with.
He decides to fast-forward through the DVD, while he deliberates. It’s clearly the best way to make a well-informed decision.
Mark’s resolve breaks as soon as he sees seventeen fucking year old Eduardo practically tearing his companion’s shirt off, which allows him to start trailing kisses messily down his now bare chest. Mark resumes the video at normal speed. He maybe also raises the volume into something more audible. Loud even.
Mark looks on intently as Eduardo mouths at Rodrigo’s cock through his underwear, before pulling them down, at a teasingly slow pace (if the slightly hitched breathing is any indication), to get at the real thing.
Rodrigo makes a strangled noise at the contact. Mark understands the sentiment. Completely.
He continues to stare at the monitor, utterly hypnotized by the way Wardo licks at the head of Rodrigo’s cock, experimentally at first, but then far more enthusiastically. He then watches as Eduardo glances up at Rodrigo, eyes dark with lust, his mouth so, so red and spit-slicked and shiny and god, the noises he’s making are beyond obscene.
Mark actually groans out loud when Eduardo suddenly drops almost completely out of view. This is perhaps a slight indication that maybe he’s a bit too invested in following this.
Luckily for Mark, Eduardo’s bed partner reaches over him to adjust the camera, angling down so Mark has a perfect shot of Eduardo shimmying out of the rest of his clothes in some sort of striptease. First the belt goes, getting thrown somewhere off-camera and then the overly formal slacks. Eduardo raises his eyebrows suggestively at Rodrigo, who’s been eagerly watching the impromptu show, before grinning widely and reaching for his boxer-briefs, pulling them down, one tantalizing inch at a time.
Shit, this is like one of Mark’s fantasies come to life. His eyes roam all over Wardo’s gloriously naked body, committing the sight to memory.
It’s so good that Mark doesn’t even notice that he’s been subconsciously rubbing at his own hard-on through his jeans the entire time.
Mark freezes mid-stroke as soon as realizes this fact.
--
Still half-frozen in horror, Mark stares down at his traitorous hand.
Onscreen, Eduardo’s progressed to moaning loudly around Rodrigo’s cock, trying to swallow as much of him down as physically possible as he threads his fingers through Wardo’s already ridiculously messy hair and just holds on. Mark thinks he faintly hears him say something to Wardo that makes him work at swallowing with more enthusiasm than Mark thought possible.
Mark’s so absorbed in following Eduardo’s every move onscreen, that he doesn’t notice the sound of a key unlocking the front door until it’s almost too late.
"Mark?" Eduardo's voice calls out from outside. "Did you leave already?"
Right before Eduardo swings the door open and steps into view, Mark barely manages to snap the laptop closed, but there’s no mistaking the way he's slightly flushed and out of breath. And there’s really no getting around the fact that Mark’s still mostly half-hard in his jeans.
"Hey, you’re still here.” Eduardo grins brightly at him, before he sees the state Mark’s in and his eyes widen in surprise and realization. "Jesus, Mark. What the hell-were you watching my porn?”
As it turns out, closing the laptop cover does absolutely nothing to turn the DVD player off and the two of them soon hear a bitten-off moan among a few other suggestive noises.
Mark can see the moment Eduardo realizes what exactly is still playing. He flushes an alarming shade of red and curses under his breath before moving to grab the laptop to shut the thing down for real.
Mark is so totally fucked.
--
“I went to boarding school, Mark.” Eduardo explains, still blushing furiously. “When things got boring, sometimes we had to be a little, uh, creative with our spare time,” he manages to get out. If Mark’s being honest, it’s kind of endearing how easily embarrassed Wardo is, especially considering all the onscreen debauchery of his misspent youth or whatever.
Mark still can’t quite get over the image of Eduardo in a preppy school uniform, not unlike on the DVD-messily buttoned up shirt, tie askance, hair disheveled beyond belief because someone’s run their hands messily through them-it’s more than a little distracting.
“Because amateur twink porn is the perfect time-killer,” is what Mark ends up saying, his tone a little short.
Eduardo reddens even further at that. “What the fuck, Mark? Why were you even going through my stuff in the first place?” He snaps back, clearly annoyed.
“It was all completely accidental, I assure you.” Mark replies, somewhat flippantly. “But that’s beside the point. I want to hear about this Rodrigo guy. Did you two do this type of thing a lot? Or was it just-”
Eduardo cuts him off with a frustrated noise. “It’s not like that. Drigo was my first real boy-wait,” he narrows his eyes at Mark. “Why are you being so weird about this? Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t seen or spoken to him since graduation.”
Mark flushes slightly at that. “Watching you two, uh, together, may have stirred some feelings in me that I didn’t realize were there to begin with,” he admits.
“Care to be a little more specific? From where I was standing, it kinda looked like you were getting off on going through my personal effects.” Eduardo shoots back, but his expression is noticeably softer than it was a moment ago.
“Okay, okay.” Mark relents. “I deserve that. Look, Wardo-I may have been a little unclear about our, um, situation.” He gestures vaguely between them.
“And now?”
Mark shrugs. “Maybe we should try being, you know, a thing. Dating or whatever.”
Wardo rolls his eyes at that. “Who could refuse such a romantic and heart-felt declaration?” He shakes his head, before looking up at Mark, eyes serious. “I’m sorry, but I’m having a really hard time believing that you’re suddenly okay with us hooking up sans alcohol.”
“I’m being serious here, Wardo.” Mark frowns, a little confusedly. "Wait-who came up with this idiotic drinking policy anyway?"
Eduardo turns to glare at him. “Are you kidding me?”
Mark just stares blankly back.
"Jesus, Mark. You did," Wardo exclaims, half in frustration and in disbelief. "You said you didn't want to mess with our dynamic, but if we were drinking, there would be plausible deniability or something.” Eduardo runs a hand messily through his hair. “I didn’t want to argue because, well, I figured this was the only way I could have you,” he confesses, slightly flustered.
"Oh." Mark pauses at that, considering. "Well, that's regrettable."
Eduardo rolls his eyes at him, but doesn’t say anything in response.
"Okay, then.” Mark begins, resolutely. “Now that I am more than willing and comfortable enough to explore my burgeoning sexuality or whatever with you, I say we forget about this old rule.”
Eduardo gives him a somewhat skeptical look. “You mean you seriously want to start dating?”
“Well, yeah.” Mark frowns. “Unless I'm completely wrong in reading you right now, which I highly doubt, I think you want the same thing." He points out matter-of-factly.
Eduardo still looks a little uneasy at the whole prospect. "Obviously, but-"
Mark waves him off. "What's the problem then?"
Wardo makes a loud noise of frustration. "Have you ever considered actually listening to my opinion?”
"Wait-what?" Mark’s unsure why he’s making such a big deal out of this.
“And let’s not forget about this massive invasion of my privacy.” Wardo points out. “God, Mark. These things are so not easily forgivable.”
Mark studies him for a moment, not entirely sure if Eduardo’s being serious or not. “Do you really want an apology?”
Eduardo makes a face like he’s pondering that, but shakes his head. “Nah, I think I’ve got a better idea.”
Mark’s positive he recognizes the mischievous gleam in his eye.
--
They end up on Eduardo’s bed.
Eduardo didn’t mention what exactly the plan was before more or less cornering Mark and tumbling them both back against his regrettably small bed.
Mark’s really not going to complain when Eduardo’s in the process of sucking a hickey into Mark’s neck, right below his jaw, where anyone can see. Just the idea of that gives him a little thrill.
All of sudden, Wardo pulls away. “You never told me what you thought.”
Mark gives him a confused look. “What about?”
Eduardo doesn’t answer right away, instead pulling him into a messy kiss, before shifting so he can whisper in Mark’s ear. “My onscreen performance, of course.” Wardo grazes the shell with his teeth. “Was it everything you imagined?”
Mark shivers as Eduardo pulls back to look at him expectantly, but manages to respond in a steady voice. “I’m finding the real thing to be a hell of a lot better.”
Eduardo’s answering smile is actually kind of breathtaking.
--
Not too long after, Eduardo deftly moves to straddle Mark, but makes absolutely sure not to touch any part of him. He does, however, lean in close enough for Mark to see how aroused he is, his pupils just as dilated as they were onscreen only a couple of minutes ago.
Mark’s pretty sure this is what dying feels like.
"I think you need to learn a few basic things about privacy-mainly about respecting personal property and leaving my things alone. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.” Eduardo emphasizes his point by poking a finger in Mark’s chest hard enough to make him wince a little. But mostly, he’s finding the authoritative tone incredibly hot.
Mark rolls his eyes. “I don’t think this is the, uh, appropriate time-oh, fuck.” He has no idea how Eduardo managed to get his pants unbuckled enough to slide his hand down the front of them, that quickly.
Eduardo runs a finger gently down Mark’s cock, making him shiver from the slight contact, before wrapping his entire hand around it and squeezing. Mark maybe makes an undignified noise at that.
“You ready to listen now?” Eduardo asks, teasingly, but there’s an undercurrent of danger in his voice.
Mark swallows hard, nodding roughly.
Eduardo’s grin at that is simply wicked. He switches gears completely-Mark can clearly see the shift from annoyance into something far more seductive.
“Don’t move.” Eduardo warns, sternly pointing at Mark as he gracefully makes his way off the bed. “Not a single muscle.”
Mark nods, but really, he’s far too turned on to even try to move right now.
Eduardo turns to rummage for something in his closet. Mark just exhales shakily, staring at the sleek line of his back. He has no idea what Eduardo has in store, that is, until he returns with two of his silk ties in hand and an absolutely salacious expression on his face.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Mark’s learning all sorts of things about Eduardo tonight.
--
Eduardo quickly gets the ties fastened securely, but not painfully so, around each of Mark’s wrists and tightens them around his headboard. Mark briefly tests Eduardo’s knot-tying abilities by giving each a tug, but they don’t budge an inch. The material is soft and smooth to the touch, but he knows that any extensive pulling at his restraints will probably lead to bruising. Or worse.
Eduardo smirks at Mark, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Most of his shirt’s already undone-sliding off his shoulder to reveal smooth tan skin that Mark really wants to run his mouth all over. Well, if it weren’t for the fucking restraints rendering him mostly immobile.
He thinks Eduardo can sense his frustration because he starts running his hands up Mark’s shirt, stroking at all the bare skin, before pushing the material up and kissing down his chest, reminiscent of what Mark watched on the DVD. It feels even better than it looked onscreen.
--
Mark’s so fucking close right now, with Eduardo rubbing against him frantically, their hips moving in tandem, his hand tightening in Mark’s hair, roughly enough to hurt so good, just a little more and-fuck.
Nothing. Because Eduardo completely backs off, gripping Mark tightly at the base of his cock, ensuring that he can’t come.
“Jesus,” Mark grits out, glaring at Eduardo. They’re both mostly out of breath and panting. Mark’s finding it a little hard to stay mad at someone who looks like that right now and not to mention, has a hand on his dick, but the situation sort of calls for it.
But Eduardo doesn’t look the least bit apologetic, half-shrugging, as he continues to work at his own cock, while keeping a firm grip on Mark’s with his other hand. There’s nothing Mark can do other than to watch intensely at the mesmerizing way Eduardo strokes at his cock, his eyes never leaving Mark’s.
It doesn’t take too long for Eduardo to come all over Mark’s stomach, still exposed from when Eduardo pushed his shirt up earlier. Mark clenches his fist, wishing he could reach forward and run his hands through Wardo’s hair, all over his skin, along his cock-he just wants to be able to touch Eduardo.
Mark watches as Wardo takes a moment to get his breath back, panting heavily against Mark’s thigh, hand still gripping the base of his cock, though not as tightly as earlier.
Eduardo moves forward and for a split second, Mark has the faintest bit of hope that this excruciating bit of punishment’s finally over. He holds his breath in anticipation as Wardo leans down to mouth the tip of his cock, tongue darting out to lick at the slit. It feels so fucking intense. Mark closes his eyes to take in the sensation.
And just like that, it’s gone.
Oh, god.
--
“Wait-you’re just leaving me here? Like this,” Mark manages to bite out, incredulous and more than a little annoyed, as he gestures to the way his pants are mostly undone, cock still visibly hard.
“I think it’s a suitable punishment.” Eduardo smirks. “Invasion of privacy and all that.”
Mark stares at him open-mouthed.
“You didn’t think-oh.” Eduardo tilts his head to the side. “Maybe I should’ve made this clear earlier.” He leans in, his mouth right by Mark’s ear. “I don’t tend to reward people who go through my personal belongings with sex.” He sits back and looks Mark straight in the eye. “You understand.”
Mark’s definitely beginning to see how calculating Eduardo can be. It’s really rather attractive. Not that he needed any more ammunition in that department.
“This is your room,” Mark points out. “You can’t just leave.”
Eduardo doesn’t look terribly concerned about that. “I think maybe I’ll crash at yours tonight. Who knows what sort of trouble I’ll get myself into in your room,” he gives Mark a suggestive look, while licking at his still reddened lips. “All alone in your bed.”
Mark’s breathing stops at that. But then he remembers that he’s tied up to Wardo’s own bed, which is getting kind of old. And fast. There’s also the fact that Mark’s still hard and he can feel his wrists starting to chafe slightly. This probably won’t end well.
“You can’t go out looking like that.” Mark complains. Eduardo looks thoroughly debauched. Mark feels a little sense of pride at knowing that he did all of that. But he’s not so sure he wants anyone else to see Wardo in this ridiculously appealing state.
Eduardo shrugs. “I probably shouldn’t, but I don’t think you’ll be able to stop me in your, uh, condition.” He finishes, looking faintly amused at Mark’s current predicament.
“Fine.” Mark relents, still glaring at him. “How do I make you not leave right now?”
“I’m afraid that’s not an option.” Eduardo looks faintly apologetic. “But don’t worry, I’ll be sure to tell everyone that we’re exclusive as soon as you get me a promise ring,” he teases gently.
“That’s not what I meant.” Though Mark does feel a little more at ease after hearing Wardo mention exclusivity. “Dustin and Chris will totally ask questions when you show up there without me,” Mark notes. “Especially when they see all of that.” He tries to gesture at Eduardo’s appearance with his foot.
Eduardo laughs slightly at his efforts. “They’re our friends.” He raises an eyebrow, giving Mark a knowing look. “They’ve also seen us both drunk and half-naked more times than I can remember. I think I can manage.”
“So to clarify, yet again, you’re actually going to leave me here?” Mark half-whines. He’s getting close to groveling, if that’s what it’ll take to get Wardo to untie him. Or at least undo a single restraint. It’s been at least an hour, Mark needs to come.
Eduardo leans over to press a kiss onto Mark’s forehead. He then moves down until his lips ghost over Mark’s own-not quite touching, but close enough to feel the heat from his mouth when Eduardo says, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back to untie you.” He sits back on his heels and gives Mark a mischievous look. “At some point.”
Mark watches in pure agony as Wardo shrugs his shirt back on properly and fixes the buttons on it. He still kind of looks ridiculously debauched-his hair’s a complete mess and there are faint bite marks starting to show, all along the side of his throat and jaw-line. Mark really wants to add to them. He also really wants to get off.
Eduardo takes the opportunity to lightly trace the line of Mark’s cock, one last time, clearly enjoying the way Mark trembles at the fleeting contact, biting his lip in frustration and pleasure. He gives Mark a quick peck on the lips before turning to leave.
“I’ll see you later, Mark.” Eduardo calls over his shoulder, before grabbing his keys off his desk and making his way out. The door slams shut behind him.
“Wardo?” Mark practically shouts into the empty room, hoping, praying even, that this is just a terrible, terrible joke and his punishment’s more than over and Eduardo’s actually just waiting right outside the door.
There’s no response.
Fuck.
--
End.