Fic: Call Me (any, anytime) [TSN, Mark/Eduardo] - Part I/II
Title: Call Me (any, anytime)
Fandom: The Social Network
Pairing: Mark/Eduardo
Rating: R-ish? Though maybe not quite.
Word count: ~15,200
Summary: Tech help AU. (Or the one where Mark learns proper phone etiquette and that you can actually fall in love with the sound of someone's voice-well, maybe if that someone's Eduardo.)
Notes: Originally written for this prompt on the tsn_kinkmeme: Mark and Dustin work as university tech help guys, fielding calls from other students and professors about their computer problems (many of which can be solved by asking “Is it plugged in/charged?” or “Have you tried turning it off and restarting it?”). Eduardo is an unlucky student whose computer keeps screwing up, and through serendipity, his calls keep being picked up by Mark (and maybe eventually after a while Eduardo has started timing his calls for when he thinks Mark's work hours are) and they start a friendly flirtation and develop a mutual crush.
Just give something warm and fluffy and sweet.
Okay, so initially this started off as an attempt at writing something short and sweet for the meme, but two weeks and over 15K words later, it evolved into this. Well, at least it’s finished, right? In any case, thank you to everyone who’s read and followed this on the meme. ♥ I hope you all deem this ending satisfactory in terms of fluff and romance and general sappiness. :D
Title, of course, is from Blondie’s Call Me.
---
Alternately, you can find this at AO3.
.:.
“IT Department, this is Mark. Do tell me all about how you’ve messed up your computer today.”
A second later, Mark frowns at the receiver. All he can hear is the dial tone.
“Huh.” Mark shrugs, putting the phone back down on the hook. It couldn’t have been anything serious if the caller gave up that fast without even saying a word.
Someone clears their throat directly behind him.
Mark whirls in his chair to face his supervisor, groaning internally. He really hates when they have their “special chats”.
.:.
Mark tries to stop his eyes from glazing over, but it’s getting increasingly difficult seeing as Chris pretty much gives him the same exact speech on a weekly basis.
Chris has an exasperated look on his face. “You’ve been here a year already. Is it really that hard to fake a little enthusiasm?” He sighs tiredly, massaging his temples slightly. “And you know, not insult our callers before they even get a chance to open their mouths?”
Mark makes an effort not to roll his eyes too hard. Chris hates that. “The fact that I’ve been here so long is a testament to my technical aptitude, not my people skills.” He gives Chris a look. “If you recall, I never asked to do this phone-answering business.” Mark points out. “I would even go as far as to say I was forcibly against the whole idea.”
Chris sighs some more. “This is all true, but your customer service only gets worse when you’re actually face-to-face with people. I’d rather not risk any more complaints.” He pauses for a second, studying Mark’s face. “Don’t let this get to your head, but we really can’t fire the best technician we have either.” Chris admits, only somewhat warily. “But you also can’t just hole up in the back with all the equipment.”
Mark perks up slightly. “Why not? That makes perfect sense to me. We should definitely do that.” He nods, almost on the verge of actual interest, except he’s Mark, so it ends up more like some sort of tic or twitch.
“We’ve been over this before-basic human interaction is part of the job.” Chris rubs at his face, looking fairly pained. “You signed up for it, now deal.”
Mark crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re being vaguely unreasonable here.”
“As are you.” Chris raises an eyebrow. “But I’m technically your boss, so I think I win this one.” He ignores Mark’s noise of frustration. “I mean, why can’t you be more like Dustin sometimes?” Chris gestures to the next cubicle over, where Dustin is animatedly chatting with whoever’s on the other line. There’s a lot of arm and hand flailing going on. Also, what sounds like a cackle.
“Please tell me you’re joking.” Mark makes a face of disgust. “That-that’s just plain uncalled for.”
“Okay, okay.” Chris concedes, putting his hands up in a vague surrendering gesture. “Maybe not those levels of enthusiasm, but Dustin never gets any complaints and while I get that you couldn’t care less about being employee of the month, I’m kinda running out of excuses here.” He explains. “I would really hate to give you a negative report, when all you have to do is be nice for a few hours every other day.” Chris finishes with a pointed look.
Mark narrows his eyes at that. “Wait, what’re you talking about? Why am I being graded on niceness? I’m an IT guy, I fix things, who cares how it happens as long as it does,” he adds, vaguely annoyed and more than a little confused.
“I’m sorry, Mark.” Chris gives him an apologetic look. “But if you don’t get some positive reviews by the end of the month, I’m going to have to fire you-or worse,” He makes a face. “Demote you to-”
Mark cuts him off abruptly. “Do not even say that out loud.” He points a finger at Chris accusingly. “That’s cruel and unkind and technological blasphemy.”
“Mark.” Chris looks at him seriously. “This isn’t a joke.”
“Yeah, fine. I’ll try to work on my people skills.” He flicks his hand at Chris dismissively. “Thanks for caring. Now leave me be.”
“You realize I’m your boss.” Chris rolls his eyes at Mark, but relents, leaving to check on the rest of the department.
Mark settles back in his seat lazily and readjusts his headset, (he tends to prefer the old-fashioned way of answering the phone, but the headset does give him plausible deniability when ignoring Dustin, usually by pretending he can’t hear him through the headphones), waiting for the next caller in need of technical support.
.:.
As usual, the phone rings about half an hour into Mark’s shift. He narrows his eyes at Chris, who’s not even trying to be subtle about watching him take the call. It’s the first one (well, the first one Chris is actively observing) since their all important talk yesterday.
“IT Department, this is Mark. And how did you screw up your computer today?” Mark’s attempt at polite and cheerful ends up slightly awry. Most would probably describe his tone as mockingly sarcastic, (and far from the best choice for customer service), but Mark doesn’t think he’s done anything actively offensive so it should be okay.
He purposefully ignores the way Chris throws his hands in the air in frustration and possibly yells, goddammit Mark. One of the other employees-a tiny brunette with a headset on and somehow, a receiver in both hands, shushes him, glaring in annoyance, so Chris leaves the room, muttering things about people’s general lack of respect for authority these days.
“Uh, hi. I’m calling because I’m having laptop problems, obviously.”
Whoever’s on the other line has a nice voice-warm and friendly-sounding and maybe even lightly accented. (Not that Mark usually gets a chance to appreciate his callers’ voices on a whole, seeing as he tends to get hung up on or yelled and cursed at angrily.)
“But I’m pretty sure they’re not my fault-” The caller explains somewhat tentatively. “I think there may be something wrong with the screen or the monitor itself.”
Mark cradles the phone in the juncture between his head and his shoulder, reaching for his third can of Red Bull. (It’s been like 48-hours since Mark’s been to bed. Luckily, Chris hasn't caught on to this fact yet. At least there hasn't been any admonishing or forcible dragging into the break room and making Dustin keep watch as Mark catches up on his sleep. Mark already has two, very thoughtful, borderline overbearing parents, he really doesn't need any more, thanks.)
“And you’re positive the computer’s actually on.” It’s more than a little sad how many issues have been resolved by simply reminding the caller that, hey, electronics have to be on first for them to work, so you know, try that before wasting tech support time. Mark is frequently bitter at the stupidity and incompetence that seems to roam free at Harvard.
The guy on the other line sighs. “Yes, Mark.” He says pointedly. “I’m not an idiot. I also made sure to check the battery and restart the thing. But no dice. Hence my calling you for technical support.”
“Fine.” Mark allows, before biting his lip thoughtfully. “Describe everything to me.” He pauses, considering, before remembering to add, “And when I say everything, I mean, everything. You’d be surprised how many people leave out the most crucial details-as if the fact that there are pieces broken off from the machine isn’t going to be a big deal in the long run.” Mark almost has to suppress the urge to shudder at all the terrible memory of previous callers. He takes a quick sip from his drink instead. “So who’s to say what you’ll potentially mess up,” he finishes curtly.
“Oh.” The guy sounds a bit taken aback, but doesn’t let Mark’s tone faze him, following his instructions precisely-not even trying to argue or suggest that his own way of doing things might be better. Mark could get used to this level of cooperation. But he really shouldn’t seeing as Mark’s probably never going to hear from nameless student in technical distress again now that they’ve figured out that the laptop monitor’s inability to turn on really wasn’t his fault and he’s pretty much going to need a brand new one altogether.
The guy on the other line sounds slightly disappointed that he’s going to need a new computer, (sentimental attachment, Mark guesses, which is to be expected-even he’s felt affection for a piece of tech or two in his time), but he thanks Mark all the same in a relatively bright sounding tone and even wishes Mark a nice day. People never do that for him.
Mark can only hope the rest of his shift goes as smoothly.
.:.
The rest of the week passes by rather uneventfully. People call and complain about their various problems-no internet connection, viruses, the dreaded blue screen of death and Mark is maybe only a tiny bit less rude than normal.
At some point, Chris winds up making an executive decision to take Mark off the phone lines to do most of the department’s manual repairs instead, in an attempt to do damage control. (Mark’s not sure how, exactly, leaving the tech helpline understaffed is helping anyone, but he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He prefers his quiet corner right by the break room, where he can just tinker with his machines while close enough to a steady supply of refrigerated Red Bull or Mountain Dew.)
Unfortunately, Chris does make a point to tell Mark to spend his breaks studying Dustin’s phone etiquette and overall technique. Mark briefly contemplates quitting (for about the tenth time), but really, who else on campus would hire him? Or put up with him for so long the way Chris has? Not to mention he’s not exactly qualified or experienced enough in anything outside of computers and code. The thought that Mark’s essentially trapped in IT is only a tad depressing.
It’s not the first time Chris has resorted to these vaguely desperate measures. Mark even has a notebook at hand from the last attempt at customer service training. The first few pages are filled with “notes” Mark pretends to be studiously and dutifully taking, but there’s actually nothing of substance in it other than sketches and doodles and an entire list of things Mark would rather be doing at that very moment in time.
So basically this means he’s currently stuck watching Dustin politely explain to one of his professors the difference between Twitter and Tumblr. Mark really doesn’t want to know.
At least, it’s better than the previous call, which apparently turned out to be a girl Dustin knew from one of his classes-a Stephanie something.
There was an unfortunate amount of flirting. Or what Mark assumes was flirting-he’s not the best with this social interaction stuff and from the looks of it, Dustin’s not doing too well on his end either. The conversation ends a bit stiltedly and Dustin looks a second away from pouting. Or worse, confiding in Mark. (The last time this happened, Dustin ended up half in tears, drunkenly mumbling nonsense into Mark’s shoulder as he desperately tried to finish coding something for class.)
So Mark quickly avoids that potential mess of emotions, mainly by tossing a crumpled ball of paper at Dustin’s head and asking his thoughts on a layout plan for his newest project-personally, Mark likes a clean design, namely, a streamline blue-and-white color scheme, but it can’t hurt to have a second opinion.
As expected, Dustin perks up at that and smiles brightly at him. He truly does enjoy being needed and generally useful. Sometimes Mark thinks Dustin maybe forgets that Mark (and everyone in IT, really,) knows and appreciates how good his coding can be. Once you get past all the standard Dustin silliness and general hilarity (which, arguably, are the best parts of the package), there’s really a whole lot of enthusiasm and productivity. Dustin’s just the kind of guy that needs the proper amount of encouragement to flourish. (Also, candy and video games.)
The project’s still going to need a ton of work, but Mark can’t wait to see the look on Dustin’s face when he finally asks him to be one of his head programmers.
.:.
Before his shift that next Monday, Chris approaches Mark with a relatively stern look on his face. Apparently, whoever Chris’ supervisor is, (Mark should probably start learning the names of the people signing his paychecks), hasn’t been happy with the slew of complaints the IT staff have been getting.
Mark understands that-this is practically a business after all, but honestly, it’s not his fault if people can’t let their grudges go. (Okay, so Mark realizes in hindsight, that drunk blogging about Erica and crashing the university’s servers for a simple social experiment wasn’t the best plan he’s come up with, but that was over a semester ago and people have really got to stop taking things so personally.) Instead, a select number of students whose delicate sensibilities have somehow been offended by Mark, spend their time choosing to tie up the Tech Department’s phone lines or raise false complaints in an attempt to make Mark look bad and then, have the nerve to call him an immature asshole.
Basically, Chris finishes the conversation by telling Mark that he did all he could, but Mark’s still technically on some sort of probation for who knows how long.
After that, naturally, Mark’s first call doesn’t go too well-he’s still full of pent-up anxiety and undue stress thanks to this added pressure of having to behave professionally for the technically-challenged masses.
He’s not exactly sure how, but Mark manages to minimize the sarcasm for his next one.
“Hello, this is the IT Department. Mark speaking, how may I assist you today?” From the corner of his eye, Mark can spot Chris nodding approvingly, before moving on to check on something in his office. Mark releases a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.
The voice on the other line chuckles softly. “I see you’ve been working on your bedside manner, so to speak.” The caller sounds vaguely familiar.
Mark frowns. “Do I know you?”
“This is Eduardo.” His tone is a little sheepish. “We haven’t technically met-or rather, I never actually gave you my name, but I, ah, called the other day.” Eduardo finishes, a tad awkwardly.
Oh. Mark does recall him. It’s vaguely comforting to finally put a name to the voice, though Mark’s not exactly sure why that is. People call back all the time with computer trouble. Apparently, there really is a first time for everything.
“Yeah, I remember.” Mark nods, even though Eduardo obviously can’t see him over the phone. “You weren’t actually at fault for your computer screen malfunctions. Don’t tell me you’ve screwed something up yourself now.”
“If it’s any consolation, I still don’t think it’s my fault.” Eduardo says, sounding a little more sure of himself now. “I’m usually pretty good at handling these things, but for whatever reason, here we are.” He’s sort of laid-back for someone with computer problems. Weirdly, Mark doesn’t mind Eduardo’s general pleasantness-it’s not forced or fake-sounding or even grating. That’s pretty rare.
Mark sighs (though it’s not due to frustration or annoyance like usual). “Well, you were right last time, so I guess we’ll just have to figure this out again.”
Mark tries to ignore the warm feeling in his chest at hearing Eduardo’s almost eager-sounding response, (his tone noticeably perked up from his already gentle voice), but there’s really no denying the way Mark’s own mood lifts after that.
.:.
As the next couple of shifts drag on by, Mark momentarily forgets all about Eduardo.
Which is probably why he doesn’t process Dustin’s excited voice and what can only be described as giggling, at some Wardo person, whoever that is.
Mark tries to drown out Dustin’s overall giddiness with lines of code, but it’s a little difficult when Dustin’s prattling on enthusiastically with his arms flailing just about everywhere, almost close enough to encroach on Mark’s personal desk space.
In retaliation (and mostly because Dustin didn’t seem to notice the way Mark was narrowing his eyes at him for a good two minutes), Mark pelts Dustin in the side of the head with an empty soda can. It makes a dull, but nonetheless satisfying, noise upon contact. Predictably, Dustin squawks overdramatically and spins in his chair to tell Mark to stop being such a jerkface, before explaining over the phone that, it’s nothing really, just Mark being Mark.
Mark frowns at the way Dustin so casually dropped his name in the conversation like the person on the other end knows him or at least knows about him, but before he can dwell too much on it, his own line rings again and he scrambles for his headset.
“IT Department, Mark here. Please describe to me the nature of your problem.”
.:.
It turns out to be nothing more than a basic request for someone from IT to come over and check on the History Department’s toner cartridges and wireless internet connection. Mark can probably get Chris to send one of the new kids running over there later. He’s way too important to make a trip for such mindless menial labor himself.
As Mark’s hanging up, he can’t help but overhear Dustin’s happy exclamation of, Wardo, and the softer, but still really fucking obvious (since Mark is sitting right next to him and trying to be productive), why didn’t you tell me that?
He doesn’t know why that gets his attention until Dustin’s staring right at Mark, wide-eyed with the beginnings of a significant look and what will undoubtedly be an overeager smile creeping up his face.
Mark narrows his eyes at Dustin, whose grin only widens at that. He says something (actually inaudible this time) into the receiver, presses a few buttons and turns to Mark, whose own phone is now ringing, the flashing light blinking mockingly at him.
“You should probably get that.” Dustin says in an incredibly knowing tone. He waggles his eyebrows a few times for good measure.
Mark can only glare in return, as he roughly grabs the receiver and lifts it to his ear. ”Yeah?”
“Mark?”
Mark makes a faintly surprised noise into the phone. “Eduardo?“ He’s not sure what it says about Mark that he can recognize the owner of that particular voice from simply saying his name.
“Ah, hi.” Eduardo coughs slightly. “This isn’t a bad time is it? Because I can call back later if-”
“No?” Mark makes a face that he knows Eduardo can’t see, unconsciously settling back in his seat comfortably. “I mean, clearly I’m at work so I’m not quite sure how to respond to that.” Mark pauses for a second, considering the possible reasons why Eduardo might want to talk to him specifically, at this very point in time. (He can’t come up with any. Well, at least not any viable ones.) “Though I swear, if something else you own is fucked up, I might have to kill you myself.”
Eduardo laughs at that, surprising Mark in the process. People usually take his bluntness and sarcasm personally. Way too personally.
Mark risks at glance over at Dustin’s desk. He’s not sure why exactly, but he’s not too surprised to find Dustin basically just watching Mark, chin in his hands and a stupidly fond look on his face.
.:.
Eduardo calls a few more times over the next couple of weeks with actual technical difficulties. (Strangely enough, these all happen during Mark’s various shifts.)
First, because there’s something wrong with his printer. That gets easily resolved when Mark realizes that Eduardo only needs to put the installation CD in his new computer to get it calibrated and working properly again.
And then again, because his econ project partner inexplicably managed to jam a pen of all things into his disk drive and now, not only does it mean Eduardo can’t watch his DVDs in peace, but it also makes funny noises, which he seems more than happy to recreate for Mark’s informational purposes. (Mark really can’t help the short burst of laughter he lets out at Eduardo’s less than technically accurate impression of his laptop’s whirring sounds.)
There’s not much Mark can do about that particular issue over the phone, but they still manage to spend a good half-hour on the line anyway before Chris comes over and reminds Mark about the no personal calls rule. (Which is frankly ridiculous considering all the fooling around Dustin does on a regular basis, not to mention the fact that Eduardo totally had a legitimate technical emergency.)
The calls don’t stop there. Somehow, within the span of two weeks, Eduardo manages to have problems with his speakers, webcam, printer again, and his external hard drive.
It’s getting to the point where Mark’s half-inclined to believe that Eduardo’s either extremely unlucky or that this is a case of sabotage. For whatever weird reason. Because really, who voluntarily busts up their own computer and electronic equipment-that’s beyond illogical. (And if Eduardo were actually that stupid, well Mark would’ve stopped taking his calls ages ago. Or maybe passed them on to Dustin. That’s probably punishment enough.)
Either way, Mark fields a number of calls from Eduardo and doesn’t really seem to mind it at all. Mark supposes the fact that Eduardo is far more pleasant-in voice and overall demeanor, than all the other callers Mark’s ever had does help his case.
Though he still can’t figure out why Dustin looks increasingly excited each and every time this happens.
.:.
They develop a bit of a routine after that.
Mark’s not exactly sure why, but Eduardo keeps calling back-even without the pretense of laptop or any other sort of electronic malfunctions. (And if for whatever reason, Mark’s not actually at his desk and winds up missing him, well, Dustin’s pretty much always there to pick up and keep Eduardo occupied. Apparently, they’ve been friends for the last year or so, which is kind of news to Mark.)
Eduardo’s also incredibly, and maybe unnecessarily thoughtful about it-usually making sure to call when he knows it’s late (as to not tie up the lines for students or whoever else might actually need tech help) and Mark’s working the night shift. No one else really calls at this time except under extreme circumstances (it’s midterms and finals season when most of the post-midnight emergency calls start coming in and the department’s usually fully-staffed on those dates) so Mark sort of appreciates the company (Dustin definitely doesn’t count and Mark can’t be bothered to know more than half the names of the other people in IT at any given time) while he alternates between lines of code for his big project and manual repairs as part of his job.
It’s honestly quite bewildering as the only other repeat callers Mark can actually remember having are the Winklevoss twins.
Every so often, one of them-usually Tyler (as Cameron is a “gentleman of Harvard” and only partakes in his brother’s hijinks when forcibly coerced, namely through copious amounts of alcohol), magically figures out when Mark’s working, which results in less than imaginative prank calls from them (and sometimes even their privileged jock friends or fellow Porc members-the two aren’t mutually exclusive) during his late night shifts. As if Mark doesn’t recognize their voices by now-seriously, he may be occasionally oblivious or just not in any real position to care, but this is getting old.
Mark wonders when they’re going to get over the fact that he doesn’t want to code for their lame Harvard-oriented version of Match.com (seriously, how contrived is that?), if ever, because this is reaching new levels of pathetic. Then again, the Winklevii were never exactly paragons of maturity. Sure they may be handsome and rich and row crew (potentially for the Olympics even), but it takes a little more than that to gain Mark’s respect. Or cooperation.
It doesn’t matter anyway, he’s got bigger and better things to worry about. He’s got a plan.
.:.
Eventually, Eduardo gets comfortable enough to go along with Dustin’s long-running and not at all amusing joke that he’s Mark’s work mistress (to Dustin’s work wife, naturally).
Mark still doesn’t know what to take from that, but Eduardo now greets him with a, how was your day, honey?, so it’s only fair that Mark regales him with tales of incompetence and general disdain over the decline of today’s college students, in return.
Luckily, all of this tends to make Wardo laugh. (Apparently, Mark’s also comfortable with him. At least, enough to use nicknames now.) In fact, he laughs pleasantly and heartily at pretty much all of Mark’s anecdotes, never offended at his choice of words or overall rudeness-this intrigues Mark to the point that he maybe starts embellishing a little, adding tiny details here and there, which rapidly evolves into clearly hyperbolic additions to his stories just to see if Eduardo will possibly laugh even harder.
He does. (But he also sometimes admonishes Mark for being absolutely terrible. Somehow coming from Wardo it doesn’t exactly sound like a complaint.)
After about a week of calls like this, Mark even remembers to return the courtesy by asking Eduardo about his own day as well.
And if Mark starts staying slightly later each shift (and the calls start lasting a little longer), well, no one can exactly prove a direct correlation between the two.
.:.
Mark’s general evaluation comes and goes with Chris being extremely pleased at how well Mark’s been doing lately. He even tells Mark to keep up the good work.
Apparently, the customer service reviews came back with high praise-not only on Mark’s technical ability (which tends to be the norm), but his overall likability and helpfulness were so much better than Chris expected. Mark tries not to be too insulted at that, especially since all this really means is that Mark’s not going to get fired anytime soon. (Which is practically cause for celebration, or at least a sigh of relief.)
According to Dustin, who more than gleefully explains during one of their lunch breaks, it’s because Mark’s too distracted and moony-eyed over Wardo to really be mean to people on the helpline anymore.
And frankly, Mark is in no position to disagree with that. (Especially considering the fact that he and Eduardo exchanged class and work schedules a while back. For convenience purposes, naturally. Though Mark maybe has a spreadsheet set up for Wardo with prime calling hours so his calls don’t overlap with Mark’s optimal coding time. Whatever. It’s really not that big a deal.)
.:.
Okay, so maybe Mark’s not always the most perceptive guy when it comes to social cues and general human interaction, but all these calls-Eduardo has to be flirting-which must mean that he has some sort of vested interest in Mark.
(In hindsight, maybe Mark should’ve pieced this all together a lot earlier. No one’s that unlucky-not to mention, brand new laptops don’t just fall apart that easily.)
In order to make fully sure Mark isn’t delusional and projecting, or worse, pining in vain, he asks Eduardo about it, about why the calls continue (despite a laptop that’s perfectly fine and every other piece of electronic equipment he owns seemingly in top working condition). As it turns out, Eduardo just kind of misses the sound of Mark's voice-he admits this one night with an awkward laugh, his tone soft and shy and almost embarrassingly sweet. The thought fills Mark with some kind of ridiculous warmth (that he knows has everything to do with Eduardo because coming from anyone else those words would be beyond trite and meaningless). It’s hardly a declaration of love, but it’s most certainly something.
So now what? Mark has no idea what to do with this newfound information-does he play it cool (like Dustin eagerly suggests as soon as he figures out Mark’s got a boy-type dilemma of sorts), or completely forget about the whole thing and pretend like nothing’s happened, like Mark didn’t suddenly have a Wardo-related epiphany and really, they’re nothing more than phone pals or something far less alliterative and dorky-sounding-wait, do hour-long calls count as dating? And when does something stop being considered casual?
This is a mess.
Dustin pouts or gives Mark looks of distress, eerily reminiscent of something Disney or Muppet-like, anytime he even implies that Eduardo is anything less than amazing and charming and wonderful, which is no help whatsoever. (Plus, Mark is obviously already perfectly aware of all of these facts.) He is, however, completely on board with the idea that Mark’s calls with Eduardo count as them seeing each other. (Dustin also loudly hints around the office that he would be the greatest best man to ever best manned, which is more than a little unnecessary. And jumping the gun quite a bit.)
It’s kind of terrible how Mark has no idea what he’s even doing anymore. No matter how many times he tries to wrap his head around it, Mark’s still pretty stuck on the fact that Eduardo (of the admittedly nice, but still ultimately disembodied voice) seems to want him in some romantic capacity. Despite the fact he’s never even met Mark in person-which is totally weird isn’t it?
.:.
“It’s not that weird, Mark.” Eduardo reassures him, the next time they manage to sync their respective schedules. “I mean, how is this any different than online dating?” He points out reasonably. “I’d even go as far as we’re a couple steps up from that.”
“How do you figure?” Mark asks, actually sort of curious about Eduardo’s thoughts on the matter.
“Well, we’ve both got a mutual friend in Dustin.” Eduardo notes, before snorting at Mark’s noise of distaste, clearly audible through the receiver. “And seeing as we’ve actually spoken on a regular basis and we both attend the same university, I sincerely doubt either of us are lying about our ages-hoping to snag some jailbait or rich older gentleman.” Wardo pauses briefly, before adding. “Ah, or lady-I just realized I never officially asked if you swung both ways.”
Mark considers that. “I hate it when you get all logical on me.” He absolutely does not pout. Not that there’s anyone here to see it even if Mark was. So there. “But I do.” Mark remembers to answer. “Swing both ways that is.”
Eduardo laughs loudly-the sound rich and warm in Mark’s ear. “Well, that is certainly good to know.”
.:.
Things merely progress further and faster after that.
The next time Eduardo calls, after vaguely establishing the parameters of their new relationship or whatever, Mark nearly dies. This is only a partial exaggeration.
It’s a Friday afternoon and Mark’s not really paying attention to anything around him, distractedly trying to get every new idea for the site down before he forgets, or worse, has to do some real work for Chris. (Mark initially worried that Wardo might get the wrong idea about his tendency to drift in and out of conversation, but the fact that he’s stuck around even after bearing phone witness to one of Mark’s longer coding tears is incredibly comforting.)
So it’s hardly his fault that it takes him a minute to register Eduardo’s words-that is, until Wardo comes right out and asks, so what are you wearing?, in a voice that is more than a little coy and suggestive and honestly, just really, really hot.
Mark almost chokes on a Red Vine, barely managing to clear his throat and sputter an excuse me?, while scrambling to make sure that he didn’t mess up any code mid-panic.
Eduardo chuckles, more than a little amused at Mark’s caught off-guardedness (of course, because Wardo is ever the consummate gentleman, this is only after he concludes that Mark is fine and not dead from potentially embarrassing candy-related asphyxiation).
“You are the worst. I totally hate you right now.” Mark finally manages to get out, his voice noticeably hoarser. A trip to the break room is too much effort right now so Mark grabs a can of Red Bull on his desk that’s not completely empty and drains the very last drops from it in an attempt to soothe his slightly achy throat. It sort of helps.
“I don’t think you do.” Eduardo shoots back easily. “Also, I believe you’re avoiding the question, Mark.” He lowers his voice into something ridiculously seductive for three in the afternoon. “What are you wearing?”
Mark actually shivers at that (and even though this thing between them is practically brand new and barely defined), he suspects Eduardo has every inkling of what his voice does to Mark, which is really, just so unfair.
“Wardo,” Mark makes a strangled noise. “I’m at work-you cannot ask me that now.”
Eduardo laughs. “Like you’re ever one for propriety.” This is mostly true. Mark can’t remember the last time he really cared about that kind of thing. But still, it’s the principle of the matter.
“I resent that.”
“But you know I’m right.” Eduardo counters teasingly.
“Okay, you make a valid point.” Mark relents. “I suppose I’ll have to call you back later, after hours. We are so not having this conversation during my shift.” Mark gets a horrified look on his face upon casually eyeing Dustin’s currently abandoned workspace. “Dustin’s desk is like right there. I will never live it down if he hears about this.”
This causes Eduardo to burst out laughing. “You’re worried about offending Dustin’s delicate sensibilities? Because I have to tell you, that ship has definitely sailed.”
Mark narrows his eyes. “I’m not sure I want to know what you mean by that, but no, ew-I’m more worried about scarring myself for life here.”
“Ah, of course.” Eduardo makes a noise of agreement. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?”
“How do you even do that-make everything mundane all sexy and suggestive?” Mark wonders out loud. “Is this some innate Brazilian thing or do you double as a phone sex operator in your downtime?”
Eduardo sounds incredibly amused as he tells Mark that it must be a combination of the two-he kind of did practice, but only a little-because he really wanted to see how flustered he could get Mark.
The next logical course of action is obviously for Mark to turn the tables on Eduardo, but he gets visibly flushed when Wardo describes everything he’s got on, which is to say, not very much at all-just a pair of black boxer-briefs (if he’s to be believed, after all, it’s the middle of the afternoon on a weekday).
Mark’s mouth literally waters at hearing that, before his brain kicks back into gear and Mark practically hisses into the receiver, fuck, Wardo.
Eduardo’s more than a little pleased at this turn of events. ”Was that an offer?”
“Ugh, you’re doing it again.” Mark makes a noise of frustration. Half of it, well, probably more, may in fact be sexual. This is so unbecoming. “Hanging up now.” He quickly gets out, before any real thoughts of practically naked Brazilian guys with sex-ready voices sink in. “Goodbye Wardo.”
“I’ll talk to you later, Mark. So we can finish this the right way.” Mark can practically hear Eduardo’s grin over the line. “That’s a promise.”
.:.
So Mark officially knows what Eduardo sounds like when he comes. (For the record, it’s really kind of perfect and far better than the poorly acted porn on Mark’s hard drive.)
This is information that Mark totally and unapologetically files for later. (He likes to think that Wardo’s done the same, but doesn’t dare ask. It’s embarrassing enough as it is that he’s heard all of Mark’s heavy breathing and choked-off moans and possibly even whining.)
Now, Mark completely accepts and appreciates the fact that he’s dating Wardo and they’re having insanely good phone sex on a regular basis (that is, for the past two weeks, when Mark wasn’t on a coding tear, but absolutely never during work hours, where Chris, or worse, Dustin might find out), which means that sometimes, in between being almost obnoxiously cute and asking Mark about his day via text, Eduardo also sends random facts or silly jokes or a simple smiley face.
It’s getting sickeningly sweet (Dustin tends to make overly dramatic retching noises when he’s within earshot of one of Wardo’s calls, which is definitely a change of pace from the way he used to coo and aww at Mark during them-apparently, even Dustin has his sappiness limits) and verging on domestic. But the fact remains, that this is really not the most traditional relationship, which in itself, is more than a bit confusing.
Shouldn’t Mark be a lot older and have possibly succumbed to a hermit lifestyle-holed up in some sad, dark, lonely apartment somewhere before he has to resort to such unconventional methods of interpersonal relationship? Mark also can’t comprehend what’s stopping him and Eduardo from being regular college kids that go out on stupidly simplistic dates to the movies or bowling and maybe even hold hands or steal kisses where no one can see them so they don’t become one of those couples. At the very least, Mark figures he should be having messy, fumbling, but still ridiculously hot sex with Wardo that’s also probably ill-advised considering how small his bed is. That’s not too much to ask, really. Well, Mark doesn’t think so.
He doesn’t consider himself a particularly shallow or superficial person, by any means, (not to mention, Mark can hardly judge when his own personal upkeep leaves a lot to be desired), but in the long run, whether they want to admit it or not, isn’t everyone? It’s a little strange to think that Mark finally knows someone so incredibly intimately, but still hasn’t the slightest clue what they look like. It’s not that he’s terribly concerned about it since Mark’s pretty sure that Dustin wouldn’t befriend or frequently associate with anyone absolutely repulsive-physically or personality-wise, and since Eduardo’s got the personality part down in spades, the rest must follow suit, right? Mark refuses to believe that anyone that charmingly sweet and smart and funny could be hideous as well. (But Mark supposes it must mean something that he doesn’t even care. Wardo could be some kind of scaly green mutant with horns and tail or whatever else is equally insane-sounding and it’s highly probable that Mark would still be ridiculously infatuated with him. Maybe Mark’s finally growing as a person. Chris and Dustin would be so proud.)
Okay, so maybe Mark’s somewhat frustrated that it’s been forever and he can’t put a face to the voice-all he wants is to be able to picture Eduardo’s eyes, how blown and dark his pupils must get when he’s turned on or how red and bitten his lips get before they shape into a wordless moan or the feeling of Wardo’s hands everywhere, touching, roaming, skimming across Mark’s skin. The thought alone makes him shiver slightly in anticipation.
Mark wants him, craves him really-he needs to know what Eduardo feels like, smells like, tastes like. Sure, he may be young and there are probably hormones at work or whatever, but it’s bordering on unbearable. There is nothing Mark wants more right now than to know what Wardo looks like, but at the same time, nothing terrifies him more.
But if they’re going to be in a proper relationship, this is only the next logical step forward. They’ve been putting it off far too long-Mark simply has to man up and ask him. That shouldn’t be too hard. He thinks.
.:.
As it turns out, Eduardo beats him to it.
It’s vaguely annoying (because Mark can’t help but sometimes feel like Wardo has secret mind-reading powers and this is his way of taunting him with them), but frankly, Mark’s just really glad it’s all finally out in the open.
“We should meet,” Eduardo comes out with matter-of-factly, not two days after Mark’s big emotional breakthrough or whatever (that subsequently ended with a resolution to ask Wardo the same thing by the end of the week, at the latest).
Mark chokes on his Red Bull, more than a little unprepared to hear those words, coughing so violently that Dustin rolls over via chair to Mark’s side and slaps him far too heartily on the back.
“Jesus, Mark. Are you okay?” Eduardo sounds incredibly worried over the line, while Dustin stops pounding at Mark’s back, choosing to stare at him in avid concern and confusion instead. Mark rolls his eyes.
“I’m fine.” Mark manages to tell them both. “Really. I, uh, just swallowed the wrong way.” Eduardo hmms, appeased, and Mark assumes, also relieved to hear that he hasn’t choked to death. Again. Dustin simply shrugs, shaking his head despairingly at Mark and wheeling back to his own workspace.
“So do you?” Eduardo asks again, after a moment (of not uncomfortable silence where he and Mark kind of just listen to sound of each other’s breathing). “Want to meet, that is.” He clarifies, unnecessarily. Mark doesn’t think he imagines the slight, uncharacteristic waver in Eduardo’s voice. (He hopes that means Wardo is somewhere on campus, heart racing, maybe even gripping his phone too tightly and feeling the same swirling of emotions that Mark is right now.)
“Um, yeah.” Mark swallows nervously. His pulse is racing and it feels like his heart is beating a mile a minute, almost threatening to burst from right out of his chest from sheer emotional overstimulation and overload. Mark’s entire body is literally thrumming with anxiety and anticipation and hope. “We should definitely do that.”
.:.
Mark is an absolute nervous wreck.
He's still not sure what to expect. It's been three days since the call, and while Eduardo has obviously spoken to Mark since then (though their conversations have definitely grown more stilted, rife with nerves and anticipation), it doesn't get any less intimidating.
Mark's even tried to take it easy-putting off work on the site (as it turned out, Dustin was more than happy to be a part of the project, maybe even a little too touched, considering the way he launched out of his seat to hug Mark, practically suffocating him as soon as he brought it up) and not really doing too much in terms of mechanical repairs or manning the helpline-Chris had initially despaired of this, but somehow Dustin talked him out of yelling at Mark for slacking off the entire week (it helps that he has a lot of overtime built up), which would be nice and all, if it didn't mean that Mark was now indebted to him for at least a small favor. Whatever, Mark can list him as one of the co-founders of TheFacebook or whatever. Problem solved.
Back to the real crisis at hand-Mark's not positive what to do with himself with all this spare time. (He still shows up to class, but pays even less attention than usual. Mark’s not quite sure why he bothers going, but it’s probably better than sitting around in his dorm or the IT Department, pining.) He considered asking Dustin about it earlier, but when Mark even hinted at the whole finally meeting Eduardo in person thing, Dustin burst into laughter, prattling on about how he already had to deal with Eduardo's neuroses and can only take so much ridiculousness in his life. Frankly, it’s quite relieving to hear that Wardo's feeling the nerves a little bit himself, but that doesn't change the fact that Mark still doesn't know what to do.
His thoughts only get more absurd the more time Mark’s left to think on it.
Does he dress up for the occasion? Is this formal event big or would that be too presumptuous? Are they going to make eye significant eye contact from across the room and then immediately run into each other's arms to the tune of some sappy love song that's only playing in Mark's head? Mark doesn't know what's highly improbable or beyond crazy anymore. In this day and age, who even woos and courts and does whatever the hell Eduardo's been doing over the past few weeks and months even. Eduardo has definitely messed him up for life.
(In hindsight, allowing Dustin to pick a slew of romantic comedies for their movie night last week was probably not the wisest decision. Mark's head is going to be filled with all sorts of romantic clichés and tropes for eons. Life-ruiners, all of them. Even Chris, his supposedly stern friend-type boss person can't help but make exasperatedly fond faces in the direction of Mark's cubicle when he thinks no one's paying attention. But Mark is, oh, how he is.)
And when Mark does actually manage to get some sleep, he dreams of Eduardo-envisioning different features and trying to piece the parts together, as if Mark can somehow recreate him in his mind. It doesn’t quite work.
Truth be told, he’s always wondered what Eduardo might look like-is he tall or more Mark’s height, dark-haired or lighter or even a redhead, blue eyes or brown or green or hazel, is he built to row crew-there are so many different permutations that Mark would need some kind of algorithm to be able to somehow figure this out.
The easy thing to do would be to ask Dustin-surely he’s got a photo or two on his phone if they’re such good friends-but somehow that doesn’t feel quite right, and even a little like an invasion of privacy. Yeah, it would save him a whole lot of trouble and waiting, but for whatever reason, Mark doesn’t want Eduardo to judge him, or worse, find him completely superficial for it.
It’s not a new development, by any means, but Mark truly does care a lot about what Wardo thinks.
.:.
“I can hear you freaking out.”
Mark freezes, hands hovering right above his laptop. He still has his headset on. Maybe if he stares at his computer screen long enough, Dustin will somehow magically go away.
“Mark.”
Wishful thinking.
“You know it’s totally rude to ignore people.” Dustin says, tossing a crumpled piece of paper onto Mark’s keyboard.
Begrudgingly, he flattens it out-all that’s written on the paper is Mark’s name in all caps and a giant sad face, crudely drawn, single tear and all.
Mark turns to glare at Dustin, before crumpling the wrinkled note back into a ball and pelting him in the forehead with it. Dustin doesn’t look at all bothered by that, grinning brightly at Mark and saying, “I knew that would get your attention.”
“What do you want?” He tries not to scowl as Dustin happily makes his way over, wheeling his swivel chair and stopping right next to Mark, almost too close for comfort.
“I know I was unavailable before because of Wardo and his needs,” Dustin begins seriously. “But now I’m here for you, buddy.” He spreads his arms widely, in what Mark assumes is supposed to be an inviting gesture, but it ends up being far more frightening and flail-y. The manic grin doesn’t help Dustin’s case. Mark tries to roll his own chair slightly back and away, but to no avail, as Dustin eagerly follows suit.
Mark regrets ever asking him for advice in the first place, but he kind of does need a second opinion. He quickly scans the rest of the room, hoping everyone else is actually doing their job and not at all listening to this highly inappropriate workplace conversation-Chris is giving the two of them weird looks from his office, but it seems that no one else really gives a shit about Mark’s love life. Which is how it should be.
He’s still not going to chance it, so he drags Dustin by the arm into the empty break room, pushes him onto the couch and shuts the door behind them.
“Okay, fine. You win.” Mark grumbles. “What do you want from me?”
“This is an equal opportunity friendship.” Dustin says, nodding at Mark matter-of-factly. “So lay it on me.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “I want to hear all about your emotional needs and Eduardo-related neuroses-okay, maybe not all of them, because let me tell you, Wardo gets pretty rambly when he’s been drinking, and I do not want to hear the graphic details of your weirdly kinky phone sex. Never again.” Dustin adds, adamant. “As long as I live.”
Mark immediately flushes at that, but he’s less embarrassed and more pleased to hear that Wardo talks about him to other people, okay well, Dustin at least-god, he’s turning into a smitten grade-schooler. How utterly undignified.
“You were right, okay? I’m nervous.” Mark admits with a sigh, staring down at his hands uncomfortably. “Wardo and I-we’re going to meet, like actually meet, and I’m honestly this close to freaking out about the whole thing and calling it off.”
“You don’t have to be, you know.” Dustin says kindly. Mark looks at him, brow slightly furrowed. “I really, really shouldn’t be telling you this, but Wardo’s kind of ridiculously into you.” He confides to Mark.
Mark’s eyes widen slightly at that, which Dustin takes as a sign to continue. “It’s pretty lame actually, but lately, all he ever does is go on and on about Mark this and Mark that.” Dustin rolls his eyes. “Like we haven’t been friends this whole time and I don’t sit a few feet from you for hours on a regular basis.”
Mark has no idea what to say in response.
Dustin shakes his head, before leaning in more closely. “Do you even know how sickening it is to hear someone essentially describe Mark Zuckerberg as their dream guy? And there is not enough bleach in the world to scrub the image of you two fucking out of my head-I don’t even care that it’s only phone sex at this point, it’s still just, yuck.” Dustin makes a gagging noise. “I do not need these intimate details getting embedded in my brain.”
Mark turns even redder and smacks him on the arm. “How is this supposed to help?”
“Ugh, you are being so unnecessarily difficult right now.” Dustin rolls his eyes again. Mark definitely doesn’t like being on this end of the conversation. “Look, the point is, for whatever reason, you totally have Eduardo wrapped around your little finger. He really doesn’t care about whatever the hell you’re freaking out over-the dude wants to write, like, fucking sonnets dedicated to you. It’s so, so sad.” Dustin’s expression softens and he looks at Mark with inexplicably fond eyes. “And don’t kill me for saying this, but I love you guys and I want you both to be happy, okay?” He confesses, looking a little sheepish while saying it. “So don’t worry about it. I mean, what’s not to like?”
Mark gives Dustin a intensely skeptical look, arched eyebrow and all.
“Okay, besides the obvious.” He amends. “But seriously, Wardo knows all about your terrible social graces and he’s still around.” Dustin coughs awkwardly. “So to speak.”
Mark huffs a breath. “This is true.”
Dustin grins brightly at Mark’s reaction. “Just think of this as the first real step to your stupidly domestic life together. Don’t overanalyze.” He adds, nodding sagely. “You guys like each other-so who cares about the other stuff? And even if things don’t work out in the end, this is college. You’ll live.” Dustin shrugs. “But I will tell you this much-I am so not picking sides if that does happen-because well, you’re not my parents and also, that would probably get kinda ugly.” He concludes, making a face at the whole idea.
Mark can’t help but scoff at that, but Dustin does have a point. And knows it, if the smug look on his face is any indication.
Mark hates it when Dustin is the reasonable one.
.:.
When the day finally arrives, Mark is still a bundle of nerves.
(Sure, talking to Dustin did help, but it doesn’t alleviate all of his tension. Not even close.)
To be honest, Mark had always thought the whole butterflies in one’s stomach thing was some kind of romanticized exaggeration, but he’s definitely feeling them now-stupid things, fluttering around his insides with what must be razor-laced wings, Mark’s feeling so uncomfortable.
There’s nothing in his system but copious amounts of Red Bull, which doesn’t help with the jitters and he can’t even sit still long enough to code. Mark is literally this close to tearing his hair out in sheer frustration. The only thing really stopping him is the fact that Wardo wouldn’t approve too much of that-he’s always trying to tell him to eat something and to sleep more and to generally take better care of himself so Mark’s basically sure this wouldn’t go over too well.
Not to mention Eduardo would probably make sad-sounding noises and pretend like everything was fine, when actually he’s totally despairing of Mark or something along those lines. They’re not even proper guilt trips, but somehow Mark ends up feeling pretty bad about whatever he’s done. Or not done.
The whole thing disgusts Mark a little.
Since their impromptu break room heart-to-heart, Dustin seems one step away from cradling Mark to his chest and holding tight, all while whispering terms of endearment into his hair. Or something equally extreme. Mark’s keeping an eye out, in the event Dustin actually snaps and goes through with such insanity. Mark’s never quite sure what goes through that insanely childlike and nonsensical brain of his, so he usually fears the worst.
Wardo simply laughs and laughs, sounding absolutely delighted at this development, when Mark reports the whole thing back to him during their last (faceless) phone call. (It’s only a few hours now before Eduardo’s last class gets out for the day and he’s supposed to stop by the tech department.)
And just like that, Mark’s feeling a little more at ease.
.:.
Okay, so Mark definitely spoke too soon.
He has no idea how he lost track of time-it’s not even live yet and TheFacebook’s already a problematic distraction in Mark’s life, which is sort of disconcerting. But that’s not even the worst part.
Now that Mark’s more than fully aware of his surroundings, he notices that there’s someone tall and lean and dark-haired talking animatedly with Dustin-that has to be Eduardo.
Without his consent, Mark’s body starts to rebel against him-Mark’s pulse starts racing (like it did on the phone with Eduardo a few nights ago), and he can feel his chest tightening, the pangs sharp and unrelenting. His throat also feels like it’s closing up, dry and prickly-it almost hurts to breathe, like Mark’s somehow drowning on air.
The butterflies and their razorblade wings are back with a vengeance.
Why on earth didn’t Mark plan everything better? Think this through more. At the very least, remember to put a little effort in, appearance-wise.
Here Mark is, in a well-worn hoodie whose best days have long passed (as evidenced in the rip by his sleeve and numerous holes every which where), unwashed jeans and flip-flops for god's sake. He’s grateful he had the foresight to shower before work today, but there wasn’t any shampoo so Mark’s hair is currently unruly and unkempt and sort of a greasy mess.
Mark can practically picture the disappointment in Eduardo’s eyes the second he gets a chance to study him up close. He’s admittedly never been the most fashion-conscious and occasionally forgetful when it comes to general hygiene, but he’s never really cared before so Mark’s not exactly sure why this bothers him so much. (That’s probably a lie.)
Meanwhile, Eduardo looks fantastic with his stupidly handsome face complete with ridiculously large, brown doe-eyes and perfectly bitable lips and soft-looking hair that Mark kind of wants to tug on. (He probably conditions and everything.)
Ugh, and he’s disgustingly well-dressed to boot-not that Mark’s got any reason to complain, when Wardo looks that good, but who the hell wears perfectly form-fitting suits in college anyway? This is so unfair.
Mark feels so woefully inadequate. It’s a new sensation, to say the least. But not at all, a welcome one.
Eduardo keeps exceeding all his expectations and turning everything Mark knows around and sideways, almost to the point of frustration. (Subconsciously, Mark’s pretty sure that Wardo’s not going to care what sort of clothes he’s wearing or that he’s truly that blunt and sarcastic, probably even more so in person-rationally, Mark knows these things, but for whatever reason, he doesn’t quite believe them.)
Fortunately for Mark, Dustin and Eduardo seem to be so deep in conversation that they don’t notice him kind of standing awkwardly, looking vaguely like a madman with the way he’s half-gawking at them. Though this is going to get humiliating fast if Mark doesn't think of something this very second.
Mark notices straight away when Eduardo finally spots him-it’s kind of hard not to with his face breaking into a bright, literally breathtaking smile (and Mark is so far gone if he's this close to listing platitudes and likening Eduardo's face right now to the sun, ugh, he should really get a hold of himself)-and that's it, maybe it’s pathetic, but Mark really can't do this.
So maybe he’s blowing this all entirely out of proportion, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Mark purposefully avoids further eye contact with Eduardo (or Dustin for that matter) and turns abruptly around to head towards the back of the department. He ignores Dustin's confused calling of his name, deftly weaving past Chris who's showing some random new girl around (Mark only narrowly misses knocking directly into her side), and ducking into the practically abandoned supply closet that no one ever goes into.
Mark locks the door behind him, before sliding down, less than gracefully, to lean his back and head against it. Inexplicably, he’s out of breath and his heart is pounding.
What the hell is Mark even doing?
It’s Eduardo, who Mark has literally dreamed about meeting in person and for whatever reason, he’s intimidated and terrified and it’s absolutely, gut-wrenchingly awful.
And now, Mark is a loser hiding out with a bunch of cracked LCD screens and abandoned motherboards and it's really, truly, beyond pathetic.
.:.
On to Part II
Fandom: The Social Network
Pairing: Mark/Eduardo
Rating: R-ish? Though maybe not quite.
Word count: ~15,200
Summary: Tech help AU. (Or the one where Mark learns proper phone etiquette and that you can actually fall in love with the sound of someone's voice-well, maybe if that someone's Eduardo.)
Notes: Originally written for this prompt on the tsn_kinkmeme: Mark and Dustin work as university tech help guys, fielding calls from other students and professors about their computer problems (many of which can be solved by asking “Is it plugged in/charged?” or “Have you tried turning it off and restarting it?”). Eduardo is an unlucky student whose computer keeps screwing up, and through serendipity, his calls keep being picked up by Mark (and maybe eventually after a while Eduardo has started timing his calls for when he thinks Mark's work hours are) and they start a friendly flirtation and develop a mutual crush.
Just give something warm and fluffy and sweet.
Okay, so initially this started off as an attempt at writing something short and sweet for the meme, but two weeks and over 15K words later, it evolved into this. Well, at least it’s finished, right? In any case, thank you to everyone who’s read and followed this on the meme. ♥ I hope you all deem this ending satisfactory in terms of fluff and romance and general sappiness. :D
Title, of course, is from Blondie’s Call Me.
---
Alternately, you can find this at AO3.
.:.
“IT Department, this is Mark. Do tell me all about how you’ve messed up your computer today.”
A second later, Mark frowns at the receiver. All he can hear is the dial tone.
“Huh.” Mark shrugs, putting the phone back down on the hook. It couldn’t have been anything serious if the caller gave up that fast without even saying a word.
Someone clears their throat directly behind him.
Mark whirls in his chair to face his supervisor, groaning internally. He really hates when they have their “special chats”.
.:.
Mark tries to stop his eyes from glazing over, but it’s getting increasingly difficult seeing as Chris pretty much gives him the same exact speech on a weekly basis.
Chris has an exasperated look on his face. “You’ve been here a year already. Is it really that hard to fake a little enthusiasm?” He sighs tiredly, massaging his temples slightly. “And you know, not insult our callers before they even get a chance to open their mouths?”
Mark makes an effort not to roll his eyes too hard. Chris hates that. “The fact that I’ve been here so long is a testament to my technical aptitude, not my people skills.” He gives Chris a look. “If you recall, I never asked to do this phone-answering business.” Mark points out. “I would even go as far as to say I was forcibly against the whole idea.”
Chris sighs some more. “This is all true, but your customer service only gets worse when you’re actually face-to-face with people. I’d rather not risk any more complaints.” He pauses for a second, studying Mark’s face. “Don’t let this get to your head, but we really can’t fire the best technician we have either.” Chris admits, only somewhat warily. “But you also can’t just hole up in the back with all the equipment.”
Mark perks up slightly. “Why not? That makes perfect sense to me. We should definitely do that.” He nods, almost on the verge of actual interest, except he’s Mark, so it ends up more like some sort of tic or twitch.
“We’ve been over this before-basic human interaction is part of the job.” Chris rubs at his face, looking fairly pained. “You signed up for it, now deal.”
Mark crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re being vaguely unreasonable here.”
“As are you.” Chris raises an eyebrow. “But I’m technically your boss, so I think I win this one.” He ignores Mark’s noise of frustration. “I mean, why can’t you be more like Dustin sometimes?” Chris gestures to the next cubicle over, where Dustin is animatedly chatting with whoever’s on the other line. There’s a lot of arm and hand flailing going on. Also, what sounds like a cackle.
“Please tell me you’re joking.” Mark makes a face of disgust. “That-that’s just plain uncalled for.”
“Okay, okay.” Chris concedes, putting his hands up in a vague surrendering gesture. “Maybe not those levels of enthusiasm, but Dustin never gets any complaints and while I get that you couldn’t care less about being employee of the month, I’m kinda running out of excuses here.” He explains. “I would really hate to give you a negative report, when all you have to do is be nice for a few hours every other day.” Chris finishes with a pointed look.
Mark narrows his eyes at that. “Wait, what’re you talking about? Why am I being graded on niceness? I’m an IT guy, I fix things, who cares how it happens as long as it does,” he adds, vaguely annoyed and more than a little confused.
“I’m sorry, Mark.” Chris gives him an apologetic look. “But if you don’t get some positive reviews by the end of the month, I’m going to have to fire you-or worse,” He makes a face. “Demote you to-”
Mark cuts him off abruptly. “Do not even say that out loud.” He points a finger at Chris accusingly. “That’s cruel and unkind and technological blasphemy.”
“Mark.” Chris looks at him seriously. “This isn’t a joke.”
“Yeah, fine. I’ll try to work on my people skills.” He flicks his hand at Chris dismissively. “Thanks for caring. Now leave me be.”
“You realize I’m your boss.” Chris rolls his eyes at Mark, but relents, leaving to check on the rest of the department.
Mark settles back in his seat lazily and readjusts his headset, (he tends to prefer the old-fashioned way of answering the phone, but the headset does give him plausible deniability when ignoring Dustin, usually by pretending he can’t hear him through the headphones), waiting for the next caller in need of technical support.
.:.
As usual, the phone rings about half an hour into Mark’s shift. He narrows his eyes at Chris, who’s not even trying to be subtle about watching him take the call. It’s the first one (well, the first one Chris is actively observing) since their all important talk yesterday.
“IT Department, this is Mark. And how did you screw up your computer today?” Mark’s attempt at polite and cheerful ends up slightly awry. Most would probably describe his tone as mockingly sarcastic, (and far from the best choice for customer service), but Mark doesn’t think he’s done anything actively offensive so it should be okay.
He purposefully ignores the way Chris throws his hands in the air in frustration and possibly yells, goddammit Mark. One of the other employees-a tiny brunette with a headset on and somehow, a receiver in both hands, shushes him, glaring in annoyance, so Chris leaves the room, muttering things about people’s general lack of respect for authority these days.
“Uh, hi. I’m calling because I’m having laptop problems, obviously.”
Whoever’s on the other line has a nice voice-warm and friendly-sounding and maybe even lightly accented. (Not that Mark usually gets a chance to appreciate his callers’ voices on a whole, seeing as he tends to get hung up on or yelled and cursed at angrily.)
“But I’m pretty sure they’re not my fault-” The caller explains somewhat tentatively. “I think there may be something wrong with the screen or the monitor itself.”
Mark cradles the phone in the juncture between his head and his shoulder, reaching for his third can of Red Bull. (It’s been like 48-hours since Mark’s been to bed. Luckily, Chris hasn't caught on to this fact yet. At least there hasn't been any admonishing or forcible dragging into the break room and making Dustin keep watch as Mark catches up on his sleep. Mark already has two, very thoughtful, borderline overbearing parents, he really doesn't need any more, thanks.)
“And you’re positive the computer’s actually on.” It’s more than a little sad how many issues have been resolved by simply reminding the caller that, hey, electronics have to be on first for them to work, so you know, try that before wasting tech support time. Mark is frequently bitter at the stupidity and incompetence that seems to roam free at Harvard.
The guy on the other line sighs. “Yes, Mark.” He says pointedly. “I’m not an idiot. I also made sure to check the battery and restart the thing. But no dice. Hence my calling you for technical support.”
“Fine.” Mark allows, before biting his lip thoughtfully. “Describe everything to me.” He pauses, considering, before remembering to add, “And when I say everything, I mean, everything. You’d be surprised how many people leave out the most crucial details-as if the fact that there are pieces broken off from the machine isn’t going to be a big deal in the long run.” Mark almost has to suppress the urge to shudder at all the terrible memory of previous callers. He takes a quick sip from his drink instead. “So who’s to say what you’ll potentially mess up,” he finishes curtly.
“Oh.” The guy sounds a bit taken aback, but doesn’t let Mark’s tone faze him, following his instructions precisely-not even trying to argue or suggest that his own way of doing things might be better. Mark could get used to this level of cooperation. But he really shouldn’t seeing as Mark’s probably never going to hear from nameless student in technical distress again now that they’ve figured out that the laptop monitor’s inability to turn on really wasn’t his fault and he’s pretty much going to need a brand new one altogether.
The guy on the other line sounds slightly disappointed that he’s going to need a new computer, (sentimental attachment, Mark guesses, which is to be expected-even he’s felt affection for a piece of tech or two in his time), but he thanks Mark all the same in a relatively bright sounding tone and even wishes Mark a nice day. People never do that for him.
Mark can only hope the rest of his shift goes as smoothly.
.:.
The rest of the week passes by rather uneventfully. People call and complain about their various problems-no internet connection, viruses, the dreaded blue screen of death and Mark is maybe only a tiny bit less rude than normal.
At some point, Chris winds up making an executive decision to take Mark off the phone lines to do most of the department’s manual repairs instead, in an attempt to do damage control. (Mark’s not sure how, exactly, leaving the tech helpline understaffed is helping anyone, but he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He prefers his quiet corner right by the break room, where he can just tinker with his machines while close enough to a steady supply of refrigerated Red Bull or Mountain Dew.)
Unfortunately, Chris does make a point to tell Mark to spend his breaks studying Dustin’s phone etiquette and overall technique. Mark briefly contemplates quitting (for about the tenth time), but really, who else on campus would hire him? Or put up with him for so long the way Chris has? Not to mention he’s not exactly qualified or experienced enough in anything outside of computers and code. The thought that Mark’s essentially trapped in IT is only a tad depressing.
It’s not the first time Chris has resorted to these vaguely desperate measures. Mark even has a notebook at hand from the last attempt at customer service training. The first few pages are filled with “notes” Mark pretends to be studiously and dutifully taking, but there’s actually nothing of substance in it other than sketches and doodles and an entire list of things Mark would rather be doing at that very moment in time.
So basically this means he’s currently stuck watching Dustin politely explain to one of his professors the difference between Twitter and Tumblr. Mark really doesn’t want to know.
At least, it’s better than the previous call, which apparently turned out to be a girl Dustin knew from one of his classes-a Stephanie something.
There was an unfortunate amount of flirting. Or what Mark assumes was flirting-he’s not the best with this social interaction stuff and from the looks of it, Dustin’s not doing too well on his end either. The conversation ends a bit stiltedly and Dustin looks a second away from pouting. Or worse, confiding in Mark. (The last time this happened, Dustin ended up half in tears, drunkenly mumbling nonsense into Mark’s shoulder as he desperately tried to finish coding something for class.)
So Mark quickly avoids that potential mess of emotions, mainly by tossing a crumpled ball of paper at Dustin’s head and asking his thoughts on a layout plan for his newest project-personally, Mark likes a clean design, namely, a streamline blue-and-white color scheme, but it can’t hurt to have a second opinion.
As expected, Dustin perks up at that and smiles brightly at him. He truly does enjoy being needed and generally useful. Sometimes Mark thinks Dustin maybe forgets that Mark (and everyone in IT, really,) knows and appreciates how good his coding can be. Once you get past all the standard Dustin silliness and general hilarity (which, arguably, are the best parts of the package), there’s really a whole lot of enthusiasm and productivity. Dustin’s just the kind of guy that needs the proper amount of encouragement to flourish. (Also, candy and video games.)
The project’s still going to need a ton of work, but Mark can’t wait to see the look on Dustin’s face when he finally asks him to be one of his head programmers.
.:.
Before his shift that next Monday, Chris approaches Mark with a relatively stern look on his face. Apparently, whoever Chris’ supervisor is, (Mark should probably start learning the names of the people signing his paychecks), hasn’t been happy with the slew of complaints the IT staff have been getting.
Mark understands that-this is practically a business after all, but honestly, it’s not his fault if people can’t let their grudges go. (Okay, so Mark realizes in hindsight, that drunk blogging about Erica and crashing the university’s servers for a simple social experiment wasn’t the best plan he’s come up with, but that was over a semester ago and people have really got to stop taking things so personally.) Instead, a select number of students whose delicate sensibilities have somehow been offended by Mark, spend their time choosing to tie up the Tech Department’s phone lines or raise false complaints in an attempt to make Mark look bad and then, have the nerve to call him an immature asshole.
Basically, Chris finishes the conversation by telling Mark that he did all he could, but Mark’s still technically on some sort of probation for who knows how long.
After that, naturally, Mark’s first call doesn’t go too well-he’s still full of pent-up anxiety and undue stress thanks to this added pressure of having to behave professionally for the technically-challenged masses.
He’s not exactly sure how, but Mark manages to minimize the sarcasm for his next one.
“Hello, this is the IT Department. Mark speaking, how may I assist you today?” From the corner of his eye, Mark can spot Chris nodding approvingly, before moving on to check on something in his office. Mark releases a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.
The voice on the other line chuckles softly. “I see you’ve been working on your bedside manner, so to speak.” The caller sounds vaguely familiar.
Mark frowns. “Do I know you?”
“This is Eduardo.” His tone is a little sheepish. “We haven’t technically met-or rather, I never actually gave you my name, but I, ah, called the other day.” Eduardo finishes, a tad awkwardly.
Oh. Mark does recall him. It’s vaguely comforting to finally put a name to the voice, though Mark’s not exactly sure why that is. People call back all the time with computer trouble. Apparently, there really is a first time for everything.
“Yeah, I remember.” Mark nods, even though Eduardo obviously can’t see him over the phone. “You weren’t actually at fault for your computer screen malfunctions. Don’t tell me you’ve screwed something up yourself now.”
“If it’s any consolation, I still don’t think it’s my fault.” Eduardo says, sounding a little more sure of himself now. “I’m usually pretty good at handling these things, but for whatever reason, here we are.” He’s sort of laid-back for someone with computer problems. Weirdly, Mark doesn’t mind Eduardo’s general pleasantness-it’s not forced or fake-sounding or even grating. That’s pretty rare.
Mark sighs (though it’s not due to frustration or annoyance like usual). “Well, you were right last time, so I guess we’ll just have to figure this out again.”
Mark tries to ignore the warm feeling in his chest at hearing Eduardo’s almost eager-sounding response, (his tone noticeably perked up from his already gentle voice), but there’s really no denying the way Mark’s own mood lifts after that.
.:.
As the next couple of shifts drag on by, Mark momentarily forgets all about Eduardo.
Which is probably why he doesn’t process Dustin’s excited voice and what can only be described as giggling, at some Wardo person, whoever that is.
Mark tries to drown out Dustin’s overall giddiness with lines of code, but it’s a little difficult when Dustin’s prattling on enthusiastically with his arms flailing just about everywhere, almost close enough to encroach on Mark’s personal desk space.
In retaliation (and mostly because Dustin didn’t seem to notice the way Mark was narrowing his eyes at him for a good two minutes), Mark pelts Dustin in the side of the head with an empty soda can. It makes a dull, but nonetheless satisfying, noise upon contact. Predictably, Dustin squawks overdramatically and spins in his chair to tell Mark to stop being such a jerkface, before explaining over the phone that, it’s nothing really, just Mark being Mark.
Mark frowns at the way Dustin so casually dropped his name in the conversation like the person on the other end knows him or at least knows about him, but before he can dwell too much on it, his own line rings again and he scrambles for his headset.
“IT Department, Mark here. Please describe to me the nature of your problem.”
.:.
It turns out to be nothing more than a basic request for someone from IT to come over and check on the History Department’s toner cartridges and wireless internet connection. Mark can probably get Chris to send one of the new kids running over there later. He’s way too important to make a trip for such mindless menial labor himself.
As Mark’s hanging up, he can’t help but overhear Dustin’s happy exclamation of, Wardo, and the softer, but still really fucking obvious (since Mark is sitting right next to him and trying to be productive), why didn’t you tell me that?
He doesn’t know why that gets his attention until Dustin’s staring right at Mark, wide-eyed with the beginnings of a significant look and what will undoubtedly be an overeager smile creeping up his face.
Mark narrows his eyes at Dustin, whose grin only widens at that. He says something (actually inaudible this time) into the receiver, presses a few buttons and turns to Mark, whose own phone is now ringing, the flashing light blinking mockingly at him.
“You should probably get that.” Dustin says in an incredibly knowing tone. He waggles his eyebrows a few times for good measure.
Mark can only glare in return, as he roughly grabs the receiver and lifts it to his ear. ”Yeah?”
“Mark?”
Mark makes a faintly surprised noise into the phone. “Eduardo?“ He’s not sure what it says about Mark that he can recognize the owner of that particular voice from simply saying his name.
“Ah, hi.” Eduardo coughs slightly. “This isn’t a bad time is it? Because I can call back later if-”
“No?” Mark makes a face that he knows Eduardo can’t see, unconsciously settling back in his seat comfortably. “I mean, clearly I’m at work so I’m not quite sure how to respond to that.” Mark pauses for a second, considering the possible reasons why Eduardo might want to talk to him specifically, at this very point in time. (He can’t come up with any. Well, at least not any viable ones.) “Though I swear, if something else you own is fucked up, I might have to kill you myself.”
Eduardo laughs at that, surprising Mark in the process. People usually take his bluntness and sarcasm personally. Way too personally.
Mark risks at glance over at Dustin’s desk. He’s not sure why exactly, but he’s not too surprised to find Dustin basically just watching Mark, chin in his hands and a stupidly fond look on his face.
.:.
Eduardo calls a few more times over the next couple of weeks with actual technical difficulties. (Strangely enough, these all happen during Mark’s various shifts.)
First, because there’s something wrong with his printer. That gets easily resolved when Mark realizes that Eduardo only needs to put the installation CD in his new computer to get it calibrated and working properly again.
And then again, because his econ project partner inexplicably managed to jam a pen of all things into his disk drive and now, not only does it mean Eduardo can’t watch his DVDs in peace, but it also makes funny noises, which he seems more than happy to recreate for Mark’s informational purposes. (Mark really can’t help the short burst of laughter he lets out at Eduardo’s less than technically accurate impression of his laptop’s whirring sounds.)
There’s not much Mark can do about that particular issue over the phone, but they still manage to spend a good half-hour on the line anyway before Chris comes over and reminds Mark about the no personal calls rule. (Which is frankly ridiculous considering all the fooling around Dustin does on a regular basis, not to mention the fact that Eduardo totally had a legitimate technical emergency.)
The calls don’t stop there. Somehow, within the span of two weeks, Eduardo manages to have problems with his speakers, webcam, printer again, and his external hard drive.
It’s getting to the point where Mark’s half-inclined to believe that Eduardo’s either extremely unlucky or that this is a case of sabotage. For whatever weird reason. Because really, who voluntarily busts up their own computer and electronic equipment-that’s beyond illogical. (And if Eduardo were actually that stupid, well Mark would’ve stopped taking his calls ages ago. Or maybe passed them on to Dustin. That’s probably punishment enough.)
Either way, Mark fields a number of calls from Eduardo and doesn’t really seem to mind it at all. Mark supposes the fact that Eduardo is far more pleasant-in voice and overall demeanor, than all the other callers Mark’s ever had does help his case.
Though he still can’t figure out why Dustin looks increasingly excited each and every time this happens.
.:.
They develop a bit of a routine after that.
Mark’s not exactly sure why, but Eduardo keeps calling back-even without the pretense of laptop or any other sort of electronic malfunctions. (And if for whatever reason, Mark’s not actually at his desk and winds up missing him, well, Dustin’s pretty much always there to pick up and keep Eduardo occupied. Apparently, they’ve been friends for the last year or so, which is kind of news to Mark.)
Eduardo’s also incredibly, and maybe unnecessarily thoughtful about it-usually making sure to call when he knows it’s late (as to not tie up the lines for students or whoever else might actually need tech help) and Mark’s working the night shift. No one else really calls at this time except under extreme circumstances (it’s midterms and finals season when most of the post-midnight emergency calls start coming in and the department’s usually fully-staffed on those dates) so Mark sort of appreciates the company (Dustin definitely doesn’t count and Mark can’t be bothered to know more than half the names of the other people in IT at any given time) while he alternates between lines of code for his big project and manual repairs as part of his job.
It’s honestly quite bewildering as the only other repeat callers Mark can actually remember having are the Winklevoss twins.
Every so often, one of them-usually Tyler (as Cameron is a “gentleman of Harvard” and only partakes in his brother’s hijinks when forcibly coerced, namely through copious amounts of alcohol), magically figures out when Mark’s working, which results in less than imaginative prank calls from them (and sometimes even their privileged jock friends or fellow Porc members-the two aren’t mutually exclusive) during his late night shifts. As if Mark doesn’t recognize their voices by now-seriously, he may be occasionally oblivious or just not in any real position to care, but this is getting old.
Mark wonders when they’re going to get over the fact that he doesn’t want to code for their lame Harvard-oriented version of Match.com (seriously, how contrived is that?), if ever, because this is reaching new levels of pathetic. Then again, the Winklevii were never exactly paragons of maturity. Sure they may be handsome and rich and row crew (potentially for the Olympics even), but it takes a little more than that to gain Mark’s respect. Or cooperation.
It doesn’t matter anyway, he’s got bigger and better things to worry about. He’s got a plan.
.:.
Eventually, Eduardo gets comfortable enough to go along with Dustin’s long-running and not at all amusing joke that he’s Mark’s work mistress (to Dustin’s work wife, naturally).
Mark still doesn’t know what to take from that, but Eduardo now greets him with a, how was your day, honey?, so it’s only fair that Mark regales him with tales of incompetence and general disdain over the decline of today’s college students, in return.
Luckily, all of this tends to make Wardo laugh. (Apparently, Mark’s also comfortable with him. At least, enough to use nicknames now.) In fact, he laughs pleasantly and heartily at pretty much all of Mark’s anecdotes, never offended at his choice of words or overall rudeness-this intrigues Mark to the point that he maybe starts embellishing a little, adding tiny details here and there, which rapidly evolves into clearly hyperbolic additions to his stories just to see if Eduardo will possibly laugh even harder.
He does. (But he also sometimes admonishes Mark for being absolutely terrible. Somehow coming from Wardo it doesn’t exactly sound like a complaint.)
After about a week of calls like this, Mark even remembers to return the courtesy by asking Eduardo about his own day as well.
And if Mark starts staying slightly later each shift (and the calls start lasting a little longer), well, no one can exactly prove a direct correlation between the two.
.:.
Mark’s general evaluation comes and goes with Chris being extremely pleased at how well Mark’s been doing lately. He even tells Mark to keep up the good work.
Apparently, the customer service reviews came back with high praise-not only on Mark’s technical ability (which tends to be the norm), but his overall likability and helpfulness were so much better than Chris expected. Mark tries not to be too insulted at that, especially since all this really means is that Mark’s not going to get fired anytime soon. (Which is practically cause for celebration, or at least a sigh of relief.)
According to Dustin, who more than gleefully explains during one of their lunch breaks, it’s because Mark’s too distracted and moony-eyed over Wardo to really be mean to people on the helpline anymore.
And frankly, Mark is in no position to disagree with that. (Especially considering the fact that he and Eduardo exchanged class and work schedules a while back. For convenience purposes, naturally. Though Mark maybe has a spreadsheet set up for Wardo with prime calling hours so his calls don’t overlap with Mark’s optimal coding time. Whatever. It’s really not that big a deal.)
.:.
Okay, so maybe Mark’s not always the most perceptive guy when it comes to social cues and general human interaction, but all these calls-Eduardo has to be flirting-which must mean that he has some sort of vested interest in Mark.
(In hindsight, maybe Mark should’ve pieced this all together a lot earlier. No one’s that unlucky-not to mention, brand new laptops don’t just fall apart that easily.)
In order to make fully sure Mark isn’t delusional and projecting, or worse, pining in vain, he asks Eduardo about it, about why the calls continue (despite a laptop that’s perfectly fine and every other piece of electronic equipment he owns seemingly in top working condition). As it turns out, Eduardo just kind of misses the sound of Mark's voice-he admits this one night with an awkward laugh, his tone soft and shy and almost embarrassingly sweet. The thought fills Mark with some kind of ridiculous warmth (that he knows has everything to do with Eduardo because coming from anyone else those words would be beyond trite and meaningless). It’s hardly a declaration of love, but it’s most certainly something.
So now what? Mark has no idea what to do with this newfound information-does he play it cool (like Dustin eagerly suggests as soon as he figures out Mark’s got a boy-type dilemma of sorts), or completely forget about the whole thing and pretend like nothing’s happened, like Mark didn’t suddenly have a Wardo-related epiphany and really, they’re nothing more than phone pals or something far less alliterative and dorky-sounding-wait, do hour-long calls count as dating? And when does something stop being considered casual?
This is a mess.
Dustin pouts or gives Mark looks of distress, eerily reminiscent of something Disney or Muppet-like, anytime he even implies that Eduardo is anything less than amazing and charming and wonderful, which is no help whatsoever. (Plus, Mark is obviously already perfectly aware of all of these facts.) He is, however, completely on board with the idea that Mark’s calls with Eduardo count as them seeing each other. (Dustin also loudly hints around the office that he would be the greatest best man to ever best manned, which is more than a little unnecessary. And jumping the gun quite a bit.)
It’s kind of terrible how Mark has no idea what he’s even doing anymore. No matter how many times he tries to wrap his head around it, Mark’s still pretty stuck on the fact that Eduardo (of the admittedly nice, but still ultimately disembodied voice) seems to want him in some romantic capacity. Despite the fact he’s never even met Mark in person-which is totally weird isn’t it?
.:.
“It’s not that weird, Mark.” Eduardo reassures him, the next time they manage to sync their respective schedules. “I mean, how is this any different than online dating?” He points out reasonably. “I’d even go as far as we’re a couple steps up from that.”
“How do you figure?” Mark asks, actually sort of curious about Eduardo’s thoughts on the matter.
“Well, we’ve both got a mutual friend in Dustin.” Eduardo notes, before snorting at Mark’s noise of distaste, clearly audible through the receiver. “And seeing as we’ve actually spoken on a regular basis and we both attend the same university, I sincerely doubt either of us are lying about our ages-hoping to snag some jailbait or rich older gentleman.” Wardo pauses briefly, before adding. “Ah, or lady-I just realized I never officially asked if you swung both ways.”
Mark considers that. “I hate it when you get all logical on me.” He absolutely does not pout. Not that there’s anyone here to see it even if Mark was. So there. “But I do.” Mark remembers to answer. “Swing both ways that is.”
Eduardo laughs loudly-the sound rich and warm in Mark’s ear. “Well, that is certainly good to know.”
.:.
Things merely progress further and faster after that.
The next time Eduardo calls, after vaguely establishing the parameters of their new relationship or whatever, Mark nearly dies. This is only a partial exaggeration.
It’s a Friday afternoon and Mark’s not really paying attention to anything around him, distractedly trying to get every new idea for the site down before he forgets, or worse, has to do some real work for Chris. (Mark initially worried that Wardo might get the wrong idea about his tendency to drift in and out of conversation, but the fact that he’s stuck around even after bearing phone witness to one of Mark’s longer coding tears is incredibly comforting.)
So it’s hardly his fault that it takes him a minute to register Eduardo’s words-that is, until Wardo comes right out and asks, so what are you wearing?, in a voice that is more than a little coy and suggestive and honestly, just really, really hot.
Mark almost chokes on a Red Vine, barely managing to clear his throat and sputter an excuse me?, while scrambling to make sure that he didn’t mess up any code mid-panic.
Eduardo chuckles, more than a little amused at Mark’s caught off-guardedness (of course, because Wardo is ever the consummate gentleman, this is only after he concludes that Mark is fine and not dead from potentially embarrassing candy-related asphyxiation).
“You are the worst. I totally hate you right now.” Mark finally manages to get out, his voice noticeably hoarser. A trip to the break room is too much effort right now so Mark grabs a can of Red Bull on his desk that’s not completely empty and drains the very last drops from it in an attempt to soothe his slightly achy throat. It sort of helps.
“I don’t think you do.” Eduardo shoots back easily. “Also, I believe you’re avoiding the question, Mark.” He lowers his voice into something ridiculously seductive for three in the afternoon. “What are you wearing?”
Mark actually shivers at that (and even though this thing between them is practically brand new and barely defined), he suspects Eduardo has every inkling of what his voice does to Mark, which is really, just so unfair.
“Wardo,” Mark makes a strangled noise. “I’m at work-you cannot ask me that now.”
Eduardo laughs. “Like you’re ever one for propriety.” This is mostly true. Mark can’t remember the last time he really cared about that kind of thing. But still, it’s the principle of the matter.
“I resent that.”
“But you know I’m right.” Eduardo counters teasingly.
“Okay, you make a valid point.” Mark relents. “I suppose I’ll have to call you back later, after hours. We are so not having this conversation during my shift.” Mark gets a horrified look on his face upon casually eyeing Dustin’s currently abandoned workspace. “Dustin’s desk is like right there. I will never live it down if he hears about this.”
This causes Eduardo to burst out laughing. “You’re worried about offending Dustin’s delicate sensibilities? Because I have to tell you, that ship has definitely sailed.”
Mark narrows his eyes. “I’m not sure I want to know what you mean by that, but no, ew-I’m more worried about scarring myself for life here.”
“Ah, of course.” Eduardo makes a noise of agreement. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?”
“How do you even do that-make everything mundane all sexy and suggestive?” Mark wonders out loud. “Is this some innate Brazilian thing or do you double as a phone sex operator in your downtime?”
Eduardo sounds incredibly amused as he tells Mark that it must be a combination of the two-he kind of did practice, but only a little-because he really wanted to see how flustered he could get Mark.
The next logical course of action is obviously for Mark to turn the tables on Eduardo, but he gets visibly flushed when Wardo describes everything he’s got on, which is to say, not very much at all-just a pair of black boxer-briefs (if he’s to be believed, after all, it’s the middle of the afternoon on a weekday).
Mark’s mouth literally waters at hearing that, before his brain kicks back into gear and Mark practically hisses into the receiver, fuck, Wardo.
Eduardo’s more than a little pleased at this turn of events. ”Was that an offer?”
“Ugh, you’re doing it again.” Mark makes a noise of frustration. Half of it, well, probably more, may in fact be sexual. This is so unbecoming. “Hanging up now.” He quickly gets out, before any real thoughts of practically naked Brazilian guys with sex-ready voices sink in. “Goodbye Wardo.”
“I’ll talk to you later, Mark. So we can finish this the right way.” Mark can practically hear Eduardo’s grin over the line. “That’s a promise.”
.:.
So Mark officially knows what Eduardo sounds like when he comes. (For the record, it’s really kind of perfect and far better than the poorly acted porn on Mark’s hard drive.)
This is information that Mark totally and unapologetically files for later. (He likes to think that Wardo’s done the same, but doesn’t dare ask. It’s embarrassing enough as it is that he’s heard all of Mark’s heavy breathing and choked-off moans and possibly even whining.)
Now, Mark completely accepts and appreciates the fact that he’s dating Wardo and they’re having insanely good phone sex on a regular basis (that is, for the past two weeks, when Mark wasn’t on a coding tear, but absolutely never during work hours, where Chris, or worse, Dustin might find out), which means that sometimes, in between being almost obnoxiously cute and asking Mark about his day via text, Eduardo also sends random facts or silly jokes or a simple smiley face.
It’s getting sickeningly sweet (Dustin tends to make overly dramatic retching noises when he’s within earshot of one of Wardo’s calls, which is definitely a change of pace from the way he used to coo and aww at Mark during them-apparently, even Dustin has his sappiness limits) and verging on domestic. But the fact remains, that this is really not the most traditional relationship, which in itself, is more than a bit confusing.
Shouldn’t Mark be a lot older and have possibly succumbed to a hermit lifestyle-holed up in some sad, dark, lonely apartment somewhere before he has to resort to such unconventional methods of interpersonal relationship? Mark also can’t comprehend what’s stopping him and Eduardo from being regular college kids that go out on stupidly simplistic dates to the movies or bowling and maybe even hold hands or steal kisses where no one can see them so they don’t become one of those couples. At the very least, Mark figures he should be having messy, fumbling, but still ridiculously hot sex with Wardo that’s also probably ill-advised considering how small his bed is. That’s not too much to ask, really. Well, Mark doesn’t think so.
He doesn’t consider himself a particularly shallow or superficial person, by any means, (not to mention, Mark can hardly judge when his own personal upkeep leaves a lot to be desired), but in the long run, whether they want to admit it or not, isn’t everyone? It’s a little strange to think that Mark finally knows someone so incredibly intimately, but still hasn’t the slightest clue what they look like. It’s not that he’s terribly concerned about it since Mark’s pretty sure that Dustin wouldn’t befriend or frequently associate with anyone absolutely repulsive-physically or personality-wise, and since Eduardo’s got the personality part down in spades, the rest must follow suit, right? Mark refuses to believe that anyone that charmingly sweet and smart and funny could be hideous as well. (But Mark supposes it must mean something that he doesn’t even care. Wardo could be some kind of scaly green mutant with horns and tail or whatever else is equally insane-sounding and it’s highly probable that Mark would still be ridiculously infatuated with him. Maybe Mark’s finally growing as a person. Chris and Dustin would be so proud.)
Okay, so maybe Mark’s somewhat frustrated that it’s been forever and he can’t put a face to the voice-all he wants is to be able to picture Eduardo’s eyes, how blown and dark his pupils must get when he’s turned on or how red and bitten his lips get before they shape into a wordless moan or the feeling of Wardo’s hands everywhere, touching, roaming, skimming across Mark’s skin. The thought alone makes him shiver slightly in anticipation.
Mark wants him, craves him really-he needs to know what Eduardo feels like, smells like, tastes like. Sure, he may be young and there are probably hormones at work or whatever, but it’s bordering on unbearable. There is nothing Mark wants more right now than to know what Wardo looks like, but at the same time, nothing terrifies him more.
But if they’re going to be in a proper relationship, this is only the next logical step forward. They’ve been putting it off far too long-Mark simply has to man up and ask him. That shouldn’t be too hard. He thinks.
.:.
As it turns out, Eduardo beats him to it.
It’s vaguely annoying (because Mark can’t help but sometimes feel like Wardo has secret mind-reading powers and this is his way of taunting him with them), but frankly, Mark’s just really glad it’s all finally out in the open.
“We should meet,” Eduardo comes out with matter-of-factly, not two days after Mark’s big emotional breakthrough or whatever (that subsequently ended with a resolution to ask Wardo the same thing by the end of the week, at the latest).
Mark chokes on his Red Bull, more than a little unprepared to hear those words, coughing so violently that Dustin rolls over via chair to Mark’s side and slaps him far too heartily on the back.
“Jesus, Mark. Are you okay?” Eduardo sounds incredibly worried over the line, while Dustin stops pounding at Mark’s back, choosing to stare at him in avid concern and confusion instead. Mark rolls his eyes.
“I’m fine.” Mark manages to tell them both. “Really. I, uh, just swallowed the wrong way.” Eduardo hmms, appeased, and Mark assumes, also relieved to hear that he hasn’t choked to death. Again. Dustin simply shrugs, shaking his head despairingly at Mark and wheeling back to his own workspace.
“So do you?” Eduardo asks again, after a moment (of not uncomfortable silence where he and Mark kind of just listen to sound of each other’s breathing). “Want to meet, that is.” He clarifies, unnecessarily. Mark doesn’t think he imagines the slight, uncharacteristic waver in Eduardo’s voice. (He hopes that means Wardo is somewhere on campus, heart racing, maybe even gripping his phone too tightly and feeling the same swirling of emotions that Mark is right now.)
“Um, yeah.” Mark swallows nervously. His pulse is racing and it feels like his heart is beating a mile a minute, almost threatening to burst from right out of his chest from sheer emotional overstimulation and overload. Mark’s entire body is literally thrumming with anxiety and anticipation and hope. “We should definitely do that.”
.:.
Mark is an absolute nervous wreck.
He's still not sure what to expect. It's been three days since the call, and while Eduardo has obviously spoken to Mark since then (though their conversations have definitely grown more stilted, rife with nerves and anticipation), it doesn't get any less intimidating.
Mark's even tried to take it easy-putting off work on the site (as it turned out, Dustin was more than happy to be a part of the project, maybe even a little too touched, considering the way he launched out of his seat to hug Mark, practically suffocating him as soon as he brought it up) and not really doing too much in terms of mechanical repairs or manning the helpline-Chris had initially despaired of this, but somehow Dustin talked him out of yelling at Mark for slacking off the entire week (it helps that he has a lot of overtime built up), which would be nice and all, if it didn't mean that Mark was now indebted to him for at least a small favor. Whatever, Mark can list him as one of the co-founders of TheFacebook or whatever. Problem solved.
Back to the real crisis at hand-Mark's not positive what to do with himself with all this spare time. (He still shows up to class, but pays even less attention than usual. Mark’s not quite sure why he bothers going, but it’s probably better than sitting around in his dorm or the IT Department, pining.) He considered asking Dustin about it earlier, but when Mark even hinted at the whole finally meeting Eduardo in person thing, Dustin burst into laughter, prattling on about how he already had to deal with Eduardo's neuroses and can only take so much ridiculousness in his life. Frankly, it’s quite relieving to hear that Wardo's feeling the nerves a little bit himself, but that doesn't change the fact that Mark still doesn't know what to do.
His thoughts only get more absurd the more time Mark’s left to think on it.
Does he dress up for the occasion? Is this formal event big or would that be too presumptuous? Are they going to make eye significant eye contact from across the room and then immediately run into each other's arms to the tune of some sappy love song that's only playing in Mark's head? Mark doesn't know what's highly improbable or beyond crazy anymore. In this day and age, who even woos and courts and does whatever the hell Eduardo's been doing over the past few weeks and months even. Eduardo has definitely messed him up for life.
(In hindsight, allowing Dustin to pick a slew of romantic comedies for their movie night last week was probably not the wisest decision. Mark's head is going to be filled with all sorts of romantic clichés and tropes for eons. Life-ruiners, all of them. Even Chris, his supposedly stern friend-type boss person can't help but make exasperatedly fond faces in the direction of Mark's cubicle when he thinks no one's paying attention. But Mark is, oh, how he is.)
And when Mark does actually manage to get some sleep, he dreams of Eduardo-envisioning different features and trying to piece the parts together, as if Mark can somehow recreate him in his mind. It doesn’t quite work.
Truth be told, he’s always wondered what Eduardo might look like-is he tall or more Mark’s height, dark-haired or lighter or even a redhead, blue eyes or brown or green or hazel, is he built to row crew-there are so many different permutations that Mark would need some kind of algorithm to be able to somehow figure this out.
The easy thing to do would be to ask Dustin-surely he’s got a photo or two on his phone if they’re such good friends-but somehow that doesn’t feel quite right, and even a little like an invasion of privacy. Yeah, it would save him a whole lot of trouble and waiting, but for whatever reason, Mark doesn’t want Eduardo to judge him, or worse, find him completely superficial for it.
It’s not a new development, by any means, but Mark truly does care a lot about what Wardo thinks.
.:.
“I can hear you freaking out.”
Mark freezes, hands hovering right above his laptop. He still has his headset on. Maybe if he stares at his computer screen long enough, Dustin will somehow magically go away.
“Mark.”
Wishful thinking.
“You know it’s totally rude to ignore people.” Dustin says, tossing a crumpled piece of paper onto Mark’s keyboard.
Begrudgingly, he flattens it out-all that’s written on the paper is Mark’s name in all caps and a giant sad face, crudely drawn, single tear and all.
Mark turns to glare at Dustin, before crumpling the wrinkled note back into a ball and pelting him in the forehead with it. Dustin doesn’t look at all bothered by that, grinning brightly at Mark and saying, “I knew that would get your attention.”
“What do you want?” He tries not to scowl as Dustin happily makes his way over, wheeling his swivel chair and stopping right next to Mark, almost too close for comfort.
“I know I was unavailable before because of Wardo and his needs,” Dustin begins seriously. “But now I’m here for you, buddy.” He spreads his arms widely, in what Mark assumes is supposed to be an inviting gesture, but it ends up being far more frightening and flail-y. The manic grin doesn’t help Dustin’s case. Mark tries to roll his own chair slightly back and away, but to no avail, as Dustin eagerly follows suit.
Mark regrets ever asking him for advice in the first place, but he kind of does need a second opinion. He quickly scans the rest of the room, hoping everyone else is actually doing their job and not at all listening to this highly inappropriate workplace conversation-Chris is giving the two of them weird looks from his office, but it seems that no one else really gives a shit about Mark’s love life. Which is how it should be.
He’s still not going to chance it, so he drags Dustin by the arm into the empty break room, pushes him onto the couch and shuts the door behind them.
“Okay, fine. You win.” Mark grumbles. “What do you want from me?”
“This is an equal opportunity friendship.” Dustin says, nodding at Mark matter-of-factly. “So lay it on me.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “I want to hear all about your emotional needs and Eduardo-related neuroses-okay, maybe not all of them, because let me tell you, Wardo gets pretty rambly when he’s been drinking, and I do not want to hear the graphic details of your weirdly kinky phone sex. Never again.” Dustin adds, adamant. “As long as I live.”
Mark immediately flushes at that, but he’s less embarrassed and more pleased to hear that Wardo talks about him to other people, okay well, Dustin at least-god, he’s turning into a smitten grade-schooler. How utterly undignified.
“You were right, okay? I’m nervous.” Mark admits with a sigh, staring down at his hands uncomfortably. “Wardo and I-we’re going to meet, like actually meet, and I’m honestly this close to freaking out about the whole thing and calling it off.”
“You don’t have to be, you know.” Dustin says kindly. Mark looks at him, brow slightly furrowed. “I really, really shouldn’t be telling you this, but Wardo’s kind of ridiculously into you.” He confides to Mark.
Mark’s eyes widen slightly at that, which Dustin takes as a sign to continue. “It’s pretty lame actually, but lately, all he ever does is go on and on about Mark this and Mark that.” Dustin rolls his eyes. “Like we haven’t been friends this whole time and I don’t sit a few feet from you for hours on a regular basis.”
Mark has no idea what to say in response.
Dustin shakes his head, before leaning in more closely. “Do you even know how sickening it is to hear someone essentially describe Mark Zuckerberg as their dream guy? And there is not enough bleach in the world to scrub the image of you two fucking out of my head-I don’t even care that it’s only phone sex at this point, it’s still just, yuck.” Dustin makes a gagging noise. “I do not need these intimate details getting embedded in my brain.”
Mark turns even redder and smacks him on the arm. “How is this supposed to help?”
“Ugh, you are being so unnecessarily difficult right now.” Dustin rolls his eyes again. Mark definitely doesn’t like being on this end of the conversation. “Look, the point is, for whatever reason, you totally have Eduardo wrapped around your little finger. He really doesn’t care about whatever the hell you’re freaking out over-the dude wants to write, like, fucking sonnets dedicated to you. It’s so, so sad.” Dustin’s expression softens and he looks at Mark with inexplicably fond eyes. “And don’t kill me for saying this, but I love you guys and I want you both to be happy, okay?” He confesses, looking a little sheepish while saying it. “So don’t worry about it. I mean, what’s not to like?”
Mark gives Dustin a intensely skeptical look, arched eyebrow and all.
“Okay, besides the obvious.” He amends. “But seriously, Wardo knows all about your terrible social graces and he’s still around.” Dustin coughs awkwardly. “So to speak.”
Mark huffs a breath. “This is true.”
Dustin grins brightly at Mark’s reaction. “Just think of this as the first real step to your stupidly domestic life together. Don’t overanalyze.” He adds, nodding sagely. “You guys like each other-so who cares about the other stuff? And even if things don’t work out in the end, this is college. You’ll live.” Dustin shrugs. “But I will tell you this much-I am so not picking sides if that does happen-because well, you’re not my parents and also, that would probably get kinda ugly.” He concludes, making a face at the whole idea.
Mark can’t help but scoff at that, but Dustin does have a point. And knows it, if the smug look on his face is any indication.
Mark hates it when Dustin is the reasonable one.
.:.
When the day finally arrives, Mark is still a bundle of nerves.
(Sure, talking to Dustin did help, but it doesn’t alleviate all of his tension. Not even close.)
To be honest, Mark had always thought the whole butterflies in one’s stomach thing was some kind of romanticized exaggeration, but he’s definitely feeling them now-stupid things, fluttering around his insides with what must be razor-laced wings, Mark’s feeling so uncomfortable.
There’s nothing in his system but copious amounts of Red Bull, which doesn’t help with the jitters and he can’t even sit still long enough to code. Mark is literally this close to tearing his hair out in sheer frustration. The only thing really stopping him is the fact that Wardo wouldn’t approve too much of that-he’s always trying to tell him to eat something and to sleep more and to generally take better care of himself so Mark’s basically sure this wouldn’t go over too well.
Not to mention Eduardo would probably make sad-sounding noises and pretend like everything was fine, when actually he’s totally despairing of Mark or something along those lines. They’re not even proper guilt trips, but somehow Mark ends up feeling pretty bad about whatever he’s done. Or not done.
The whole thing disgusts Mark a little.
Since their impromptu break room heart-to-heart, Dustin seems one step away from cradling Mark to his chest and holding tight, all while whispering terms of endearment into his hair. Or something equally extreme. Mark’s keeping an eye out, in the event Dustin actually snaps and goes through with such insanity. Mark’s never quite sure what goes through that insanely childlike and nonsensical brain of his, so he usually fears the worst.
Wardo simply laughs and laughs, sounding absolutely delighted at this development, when Mark reports the whole thing back to him during their last (faceless) phone call. (It’s only a few hours now before Eduardo’s last class gets out for the day and he’s supposed to stop by the tech department.)
And just like that, Mark’s feeling a little more at ease.
.:.
Okay, so Mark definitely spoke too soon.
He has no idea how he lost track of time-it’s not even live yet and TheFacebook’s already a problematic distraction in Mark’s life, which is sort of disconcerting. But that’s not even the worst part.
Now that Mark’s more than fully aware of his surroundings, he notices that there’s someone tall and lean and dark-haired talking animatedly with Dustin-that has to be Eduardo.
Without his consent, Mark’s body starts to rebel against him-Mark’s pulse starts racing (like it did on the phone with Eduardo a few nights ago), and he can feel his chest tightening, the pangs sharp and unrelenting. His throat also feels like it’s closing up, dry and prickly-it almost hurts to breathe, like Mark’s somehow drowning on air.
The butterflies and their razorblade wings are back with a vengeance.
Why on earth didn’t Mark plan everything better? Think this through more. At the very least, remember to put a little effort in, appearance-wise.
Here Mark is, in a well-worn hoodie whose best days have long passed (as evidenced in the rip by his sleeve and numerous holes every which where), unwashed jeans and flip-flops for god's sake. He’s grateful he had the foresight to shower before work today, but there wasn’t any shampoo so Mark’s hair is currently unruly and unkempt and sort of a greasy mess.
Mark can practically picture the disappointment in Eduardo’s eyes the second he gets a chance to study him up close. He’s admittedly never been the most fashion-conscious and occasionally forgetful when it comes to general hygiene, but he’s never really cared before so Mark’s not exactly sure why this bothers him so much. (That’s probably a lie.)
Meanwhile, Eduardo looks fantastic with his stupidly handsome face complete with ridiculously large, brown doe-eyes and perfectly bitable lips and soft-looking hair that Mark kind of wants to tug on. (He probably conditions and everything.)
Ugh, and he’s disgustingly well-dressed to boot-not that Mark’s got any reason to complain, when Wardo looks that good, but who the hell wears perfectly form-fitting suits in college anyway? This is so unfair.
Mark feels so woefully inadequate. It’s a new sensation, to say the least. But not at all, a welcome one.
Eduardo keeps exceeding all his expectations and turning everything Mark knows around and sideways, almost to the point of frustration. (Subconsciously, Mark’s pretty sure that Wardo’s not going to care what sort of clothes he’s wearing or that he’s truly that blunt and sarcastic, probably even more so in person-rationally, Mark knows these things, but for whatever reason, he doesn’t quite believe them.)
Fortunately for Mark, Dustin and Eduardo seem to be so deep in conversation that they don’t notice him kind of standing awkwardly, looking vaguely like a madman with the way he’s half-gawking at them. Though this is going to get humiliating fast if Mark doesn't think of something this very second.
Mark notices straight away when Eduardo finally spots him-it’s kind of hard not to with his face breaking into a bright, literally breathtaking smile (and Mark is so far gone if he's this close to listing platitudes and likening Eduardo's face right now to the sun, ugh, he should really get a hold of himself)-and that's it, maybe it’s pathetic, but Mark really can't do this.
So maybe he’s blowing this all entirely out of proportion, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Mark purposefully avoids further eye contact with Eduardo (or Dustin for that matter) and turns abruptly around to head towards the back of the department. He ignores Dustin's confused calling of his name, deftly weaving past Chris who's showing some random new girl around (Mark only narrowly misses knocking directly into her side), and ducking into the practically abandoned supply closet that no one ever goes into.
Mark locks the door behind him, before sliding down, less than gracefully, to lean his back and head against it. Inexplicably, he’s out of breath and his heart is pounding.
What the hell is Mark even doing?
It’s Eduardo, who Mark has literally dreamed about meeting in person and for whatever reason, he’s intimidated and terrified and it’s absolutely, gut-wrenchingly awful.
And now, Mark is a loser hiding out with a bunch of cracked LCD screens and abandoned motherboards and it's really, truly, beyond pathetic.
.:.
On to Part II