Just When I Thought I Had You Sussed Part 2
Mark woke late the next morning with a ridiculous hangover and staggered to retrieve his laptop from the suitcase. After coding for an hour, unable to wire in properly as thoughts about last night and Wardo’s lips and how his feelings for Wardo had suddenly slammed into him like his chest been run over by a double-decker bus, he heard a soft knock on the door. Assuming it was Eduardo he jumped up and ran to get the door; hand running through his unruly curls in an attempt to try and look presentable. He was still in the hoodie he was wearing last night.
What was he doing? It was just Wardo.
He wrenched open the door in sweet expectation just to see Randi standing in the corridor with one eyebrow raised and a stern look on her face. He looked blankly back at her.
“Oh, you’d better start talking.” She said and pushed past him into his room.
“Good morning to you too.” He slammed the door after her.
--
“I’m not sleeping with him!” Mark said from the edge of the bed while Randi stood in front of him; hands on hips.
“But you want to.” She said, smirking.
“I, erm, he. He’s. He’s my best friend, Randi.”
“Ok. You want in your best friend’s pants. Give me three reasons why you shouldn’t ask him out.”
“1) He’s two years older than me. 2) He’s straight. 3) He looks like that.” He said deprecatingly counting on his fingers.
“1) Doesn’t matter. 2) Boy, if he looks at you like that he is not straight. Even Donna noticed. 3) Please refer to my second point in relation to his attractiveness. He’s obviously attracted to you.”
“Shut up Randi.” Mark huddles in on himself. Eduardo was a Brazilian god and he was a pale, ruffled nerd who preferred the company of his laptop than going to parties and socialising. Wardo wouldn’t want him.
He wouldn’t want the spotlight that would be brought onto them if his father won the election. Plus Wardo was straight. He wanted Christy or someone else with boobs. And Mark definitely didn’t have boobs.
“It wouldn’t exactly help dad right now if his son came out the week of the election.”
“You don’t have to be a moron your entire life, Mark. You wouldn’t have to come out publically for ages and dad wouldn’t care as long as you’re happy.”
“He didn’t seem very happy with Eduardo at lunch yesterday.”
“He’s just being protective, Mark. You’ve never been in a relationship before…”
“I’m not in one now!”
“…and he’s just making sure you’re not going to get hurt.”
“Eduardo would never hurt me.” Mark said with a steadiness he had never heard from himself before. Randi seemed taken back but nodded in acquiescence.
“So.” Mark said awkwardly, having basically just come out to his sister, “What are you wearing tonight?”
“Oh, Mark,” She laughs fondly, “Never change.”
--
Mark leaves his hotel room wearing a well fitted black suit that his father had made for him as an early Christmas present. It doesn’t itch, surprisingly. Considering that he only has two other suits; the grey nylon one that was bought on sale from Wal-Mart at last minute and the black, baggy one that was far too small now that he wore to his Bar Mitzvah. This is the first suit that he actually feels fits him. It’s tapered in to show his waist - without emphasising how thin he really is - and the white shirt contrasts classically with the black tie he’d grabbed on the way out.
He quickly ties it in the mirror of the hotel lift and travels down to the bottom floor before meeting up with Lars and Sergei at the entrance of the hotel to jump in a car. He looked around for Eduardo but Lars told him that Wardo was already on his way with Mark’s parents. Mark settled down in the back of the car and tried not to get hurt by the fact that Eduardo hadn’t waited for him. Wardo was supposed to be going to this dinner with him, not his parents.
En route to the White House, Mark begun to get a little nervous. He couldn’t understand why but there were butterflies in his stomach - metaphorically - and he felt like he couldn’t swallow properly; as if his nerves were so high they were paralysed. He hadn’t seen Eduardo since the night before which Mark remembered with a full body shudder. Adding to his conversation with Randi and his realisation of his feelings he truly didn’t know how he was going to act with Wardo.
Or how Eduardo would act.
--
The White House was not as big as he expected it to be. It was November 3rd and tomorrow evening they would announce who had won the election but for now Mark was just interested in getting inside the building without insulting someone important and finding Eduardo.
He entered the ballroom between Lars and Sergei without much issue. He was handed a flute of champagne and sipped a few times trying to get rid of his nerves. He wished he had a keyboard right now; his hands were twitching and he needed something to focus on that he could actually understand.
He looked around the magnificent room. It had a huge ceiling, ornately decorated, high windows lining the room and gold was glinting on every surface. It was far too decadent for Mark’s taste but he had to admit it was impressive. Well, it was the White House.
He still couldn’t see Eduardo anywhere even after dinner, and he wasn’t with Mark’s parents, but he noticed that music was being played loudly and couples were beginning to take to the floor to twirl around. Many of the women were in pastel-coloured and jewel-covered dresses. Men were all wearing tuxedoes and black ties - Mark already missed his hoodie and flip flops.
And where on earth was Eduardo?
He waved back to his parents who were mingling with adults Mark vaguely recognised and he walked around the edges of the room until he felt a grip on his arm and was dragged sideways into a small, dimly lit corridor. He was pulled up against a solid body. A body he recognised as Eduardo’s through the soft light that was making its way into the little enclave.
“Wardo?” Mark whispered still pressed up tight against Eduardo’s body.
“Mark.” The music was still playing and Eduardo had wrapped an arm around Mark’s middle. Wardo looked down and, without meaning to, brushed the tip of his nose briefly against Mark’s, “You look amazing. Christ, where’d you get a suit like that?”
Mark was finding it hard to think clearly in the small space and so tightly pressed up against Eduardo, “I. I don’t know. A store, probably?”
Eduardo laughed lightly, “Yeah,” He breathed in Mark’s face. The music changed to a far more romantic song and Eduardo moved his hand around Mark’s back to place it in the small of his back instead.
“Oh no, you’re not getting me to dance, Wardo.” Mark said trying to wriggle away.
“Come on, Mark, no one can see you.” Eduardo whispered in his ear. He pulled back and smiled softly.
“You can.” Mark laughed but Eduardo pulled him closer.
“And?”
Mark laughed lightly and wrapped his arms around Eduardo’s neck.
“I’m warning you I can’t dance as well as I’m sure you can.” Mark said into Wardo’s neck.
“Lucky the lights aren’t working very well and we don’t have much space in here, then, isn’t it?” Wardo murmured into Mark’s forehead as he pressed against him.
They begun to sway from side to side and moved closer and closer together. Mark’s hand’s worked their way into the hair at the bottom of Eduardo’s neck and ran his fingernails lightly through. Wardo gasped lightly against his skin and Mark’s chest felt tight again. I’ve got to see a doctor about this, he thought.
“Mark, you don’t even know -- You make me feel--” Mark breathed out onto Wardo’s neck and he groaned loudly before looking down at Mark.
Mark couldn't hold back any further and kissed Wardo lightly once before drawing back slightly as if to check he wasn't going to be pushed back like he was expecting. Like he'd been worried about since he realised his feelings for Wardo. But to his genuine surprise Wardo dragged him in further and kissed him back deeply pressing his entire body against Mark's. Mark's confidence rose and, although although he felt a little unsure of himself, he pressed his mouth harder against Wardo's, gently licking into his mouth until Wardo groaned deep from the bottom of his throat.
They continued kissing and pulling at each others clothes, Mark tugging boldly on Wardo's shirt until it came undone from his trousers and Mark pulling at Mark's jacket until it pulled his arms back so he couldn't any more. Wardo leant in and kissed him gentle, in juxtaposition to the harsher presses he had worn against Mark's mouth and throat as he had ghosted his kissed across the pale skin. He pulled back and tugged Mark's jacket back on safely, a small, secret smile matched on their faces.
Then he heard something like gunshots sound and Eduardo pulled him out of the enclave into the ballroom, where there was pure chaos. Mark’s parents shouted out to him and Lars dragged him away from Eduardo towards the emergency exit to follow his parents (who were being escorted by their agents) but not before he saw Eduardo, still kiss rumpled, his shirt half pulled out of his trousers, talking into his wrist and being given orders by Sergei who was standing in front of him.
Mark’s eyes widened and Eduardo, in his process of scanning the room, caught his gaze and brought his wrist down from his lips mid-command. The lead weight in Mark’s stomach that had been lightened in the previous five minutes dropped violently and he immediately felt sick.
Lars grabbed his shoulders and dragged him away from Eduardo’s gaze and rapidly he was being pushed out of the ballroom and into a blacked out car waiting outside. A hand tapped on the roof of the car and it sped off, Mark’s hand encased in his mothers. Someone had used a gun in the White House and suddenly all the security agents looked in their element - running around vehicles and escorting people from the building, the police already surrounding the area. Mark vaguely heard the agent driving the car say they’d caught the fanatical nutter who hadn’t even been able to use a gun properly but he couldn’t really gage into the conversation properly. It was like he was underwater and he could sense the vibrations but they weren’t registering as words to him.
Eduardo was an agent.
Eduardo had been an undercover bodyguard.
Was Mark in a fucking Bond film?
--
Mark and his parents sped towards the hotel before they stopped with a screech on the corner and the car door on Mark’s side was opened.
Eduardo.
“Ma’am, Sir, you’ve been asked to move into another car so that Mr Zuckerberg’s protection can stay with him as you are in a different part of the hotel.” Eduardo said professionally in a tone-free and clinical voice. Mark sucked in a breath and looked down at his hands.
“Of course. Mark, we’ll see you tomorrow morning. The car behind?” His father asked as he and his wife - after hugging Mark tightly - got out of the car and Lars sat down in the front seat, where Mark’s father had been positioned seconds before. Sergei was apparently in the car ahead of them.
“Yes, Sir, your protection will be waiting in the car for you.”
“Thank you, Eduardo.”
Oh, so his dad was in on this too? Great.
--
“So your name is Eduardo, then.” Mark said bitterly into the tense air that was encompassing the car. The partition between the driver and Mark and Eduardo was up fully. Mark was pressed up against his door and Eduardo had been sending orders into his wrist and receiving news from his earpiece for the past five minutes before they had settled into tension filled silence. The black glass that separated the driver and Lars from them at this moment left the space they were sitting in feel impossibly small.
“Yes. Mark, please don’t do this.”
There was a long pause
“I can’t lose my job. I can’t - We can’t. It was a mistake on my part.” Eduardo sounded tired and Mark snapped suddenly energised with anger.
“So the only reason you’re … here is because my father wanted me to be put under a ridiculous amount of protection against my consent.”
“He was only trying to protect you!” Eduardo attempted to reason but Mark barely heard him.
“Don’t defend him. The only reason you spent two months slowly making me fall-making me like you was--was just to get closer to me. To pander to my father. To be the best agent.” Mark’s eyes began to burn but he didn’t blink. He sensed Eduardo turn completely in his seat to face Mark.
“No, Mark. It was my job. I wasn’t pandering to anyone. I mean, yes, I was assigned by your father to protect you and he decided it would be best if you didn’t know about me being an agent but I never meant. I mean. I was just supposed to be part of your friendship group to ensure nothing bad ever happened when Lars or Sergei couldn’t be there. I didn’t realise that we’d-that I’d-”
“They’re in the dorm room next door to me. They come to all of my lessons. They virtually follow me to the bathroom. How much more could they not know about?” Mark bit out.
“I can’t question orders, Mark. I’m a bodyguard for the best protection service in the USA and senator Zuckerberg employed a team of us - me as leader - to ensure your protection whilst you were studying at Harvard. I was to remain innocuous.” He said softly.
Eduardo slipped, defeated, back into his position in his seat.
“You could never be innocuous.” Wardo turned to face him quickly before letting out a small sound. Mark would have said it sounded like a sob but he wasn’t melodramatic. Wardo probably couldn’t care less for him; he was just trying to make sure Mark wasn’t angry at him so Mark’s dad didn’t fire him. “So what happens now? Now that I’ve discovered who you are, what your job is?” Mark asked blankly.
“I don’t know. I’ve got to wait for orders regarding where I am positioned and whether it will change.”
“You never went travelling did you?” Mark whispered almost hoping that any part of their friendship was real. Was real to Eduardo. That some of the few facts he knew about Eduardo were actually true.
“No.”
“Who actually are you then, as I apparently know so little about you, Eduardo?”
“I’m twenty five years old. I’ve been training to be an agent since I was eighteen. Since.” He coughed, “Since I was your age. This was the top job - protecting a senator and his family; the one I’ve been working my entire life for. It’s written in my contract, Mark. I can’t date the principle - that’s you.” He turned to look at Mark.
“Well you must be so proud.”
“I was, Mark. Now I don’t know. You’ve changed everything.”
Mark didn’t hear him, “You’ve achieved your goals professionally and made me feel like a piece of shit.” Mark realised they’d reached the hotel and he grabbed the door. Eduardo reached out and touched his wrist, wrapped his long fingers around the thin bone.
“No, Mark, you must know I feel… I can’t.”
The heat and attraction Mark still felt for Eduardo became too much and he ripped his hand away from the grip. He opened the car door and followed Lars, who had been sitting in the front seat, into the hotel. God forbid anyone ever would want to be with him or want him for who he was. Eduardo obviously only kissed him back out of obligation - feeling that he could risk his job if he didn’t, that a rift between them would ruin Eduardo’s gig - he’d infiltrated Mark so well. Mark swallowed back the burning sensation at the back of his throat.
He didn’t look back.
--
Getting spectacularly drunk that night was probably not the best way to work through his thoughts, Mark thought, as he tried to get out of bed to pack before the noon flight back to Harvard. His father had texted him to say that they needed to have a discussion about his situation - his father’s words - and that he should look like a human.
His father knew him so well.
Mark stumbled into the bathroom to check the damage. He had a large, purple hickey on his neck - no doubt who from - and his eyes were bloodshot. Yeah, he needed a shower too.
About twenty minutes later he was dressed and sitting at the desk in his room and emailing Dustin back just to let him know he was alive.
From: dmoskovitz@harvard.edu
To: mzuckerberg@harvard.edu
Subject: Prove you’re alive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DUDE YOU HAVE GONE QUIET. THE NEWS IS SCARING ME. THEY SAY NO CASUALTIES BUT YOU’RE ALWAYS THE ANOMOLY. DON’T BE THE ANOMOLY, MARK! PLEASE DON’T BE DEAD. WHO ELSE WILL UNDERSTAND THE NUANCES OF MY PERSONALITY AS ASTUTELY AS YOU?!
NO ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
From: mzuckerberg@harvard.edu
To: dmoskovitz@harvard.edu
Subject: I’m alive.
I’m alive. Shut up, Dustin.
--
“He’ll be staying at Harvard and continuing to be your bodyguard, Mark, and there’s no discussion.”
“But there’s no point. Lars and Sergei are far stronger than War-Eduardo anyway.”
“I beg to differ. Eduardo specialises in several types of martial art and he is the best agent in the team.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, dad? Why did you feel you had to set up a secret bodyguard to look after me and install himself in my friendship circle? Was that a direct order?” Mark said hotly, more than a little hurt.
“Mark, his orders were to be an acquaintance and to maintain contact to ensure nothing was going on where Lars and Sergei couldn’t get to. Obviously his orders were not to become too close to you.”
That was evidently a lie.
Of course that was the only way this situation could be dealt with. The man who had betrayed Mark’s trust and had basically destroyed all the self-esteem he had built up this term was sticking around for the foreseeable future reminding him constantly of the fool he had been.
“What’s that on your neck?” Mark’s dad pointed at his hickey. Mark rubbed it quickly before shrugging it off, “Nothing.” His dad looked suspicious before looking at his watch quickly
“Good luck.” Mark said quietly realising that this was the way his life was going to be. He would always be Edward Zuckerberg’s son, not even Wardo could see any differently. Eduardo.
Not even Eduardo could see him as anything different.
He was being paid to deal with Mark. He didn’t care whether Mark had some silly little crush on him. Just as long as the pay cheque worked it’s way into his bank account every month.
Mark’s eyes burned and he looked away from his father. He didn’t need Eduardo; all he needed was his laptop, a red-bull and people to stop talking about Eduardo in front of him.
--
On the plane he closed his eyes - Eduardo was sitting up front in the jet so he wouldn’t have to talk to Mark, Mark assumed anyway - and remembered the night when he had told Eduardo everything about himself. Stupid little facts no one else knew. He thought Eduardo had told him everything about himself as well.
He understood that this was Eduardo’s job but he didn’t have to kiss him back or to act so…Or had Mark made it all up in his head? Had Eduardo really just been friendly and Mark had taken it too far and fallen for him? Who was Mark kidding - Eduardo would never want someone like him. Mark remembers watching Eduardo laughing with the beautiful and perfect Christy, and how Eduardo’s actually seven years older than Mark.
Eduardo’s beautiful, smart, talented and socially adept - and apparently the best bodyguard his father had. Mark was smart but he had nothing else going for him, he knew. He felt sickened with himself. He’d had no other experience so he’d thrown himself at the first person to be kind to him and the only reason this person stuck around was due to his sense of duty.
He was so embarrassed.
--
“What do I do?” Mark asked Chris. He had called him the moment he had landed and, with Eduardo tailing, was out to dinner with him in a nearby Italian restaurant to the Harvard campus. Eduardo was sitting a few tables over, keeping conversation with one of the waitresses and occasionally looking over at Mark’s table. Chris was the first person Mark thought of meeting up with after the trip from hell. The results of the election were going to come through in a couple of hours, he could afford a couple of hours to get distracted with the Eduardo issue instead of thinking about how big tonight could get.
“So you want my opinion on what you should do?” Chris said after taking a bite of his pizza and getting sauce all over his mouth after Mark had explained what had happened - or at least had given the Spark Notes version. Chris had become a close friend in their time in the dorm room, one he’d gotten over who Mark was related to. Mark rarely strayed from his bedroom apart from when Eduardo begged him to get some air but Chris was the person he first thought of to put down this all down in front of. Maybe it was because Chris managed to successfully get laid far more than anyone else he knew.
“Seriously? Because he probably thinks of me as the biggest idiot in the entire world right now. I mean, look at him and then look at me. I can’t believe I ever thought that I could have someone who’d actually want me for me instead of out of obligation.” Mark sighed and then felt embarrassed. That was a little to open for him.
“Mark. Mark!” He slapped his arm when he didn’t meet Chris’ eyes the first time, “Man, have you seen how often he looks over at this table?” Mark rolled his eyes.
“Chris, that’s his job. You know, protecting me. For money and out of a sense of duty? Remember? That entire conversation we just had?”
“He isn’t surveying the area, Mark. He’s staring at you.”
“Don’t be an imbecile, Chris.” Mark looked over and caught Eduardo’s eye for a few seconds before breaking the contact. He shivered slightly.
“Make him jealous then! Teach him what’s he’s missing out on.” Chris laughed before shrugging, “That’s why I’d do anyway.”
Mark stared in shock at Chris before recovering, “I don’t think he’d react. He’d probably be happy that I’d moved on so I stop obsessing over him.”
Chris sighed and looked over at Eduardo before deciding to change the topic.
“You excited about tonight then, Mr Zuckerberg Jr.” Chris laughed before taking helping himself to another slice of pizza.
“Sure,” Mark said absently, “We’d better get to the bar for the results then, shouldn’t we? Wouldn’t want to miss this!”
--
“…And the results of the election are that Edward Zuckerberg, representative of the Democratic Party, has won in a landslide election with a significant portion of the votes going to the Blues.”
Mark was standing in a crowd of his friends and various acquaintances watching the news in awe. He’d sent his dad an email of congratulations and knew that when he next sees him they’ll have a proper conversation about how incredible this is. How life changingly awesome this truly is. Part of Mark is scared to think of the repercussions but most of him is just so damn proud of his father. The man who whistled as he fixed Mark’s bed when he broke it jumping on the mattress with his sisters; the man who wrote out ‘I love you” in socks on his wedding anniversary morning all over the landing to Karen because he forgot to buy a card.
The new President of the United States.
It had never really struck Mark before that he’d soon be part of one of the most powerful families in the world, but it hit him like a tonne of bricks. Various people clap him on the shoulder and shake his hand but he can’t tear his head away from the family photo they are now showing on the news on the TV screen. It’s 2am but he doesn’t feel tired at all and when people suggest shots he shrugs and accepts. Why not?
Eduardo is sitting on a stool at the end of the bar keeping an eye on the crowd. He keeps catching his eye with Mark’s over and over again and Mark remembers the advice Chris had given him a couple of hours earlier. He left the bar and began walking down the street to the club Chris had given him the name of earlier. He knew that Eduardo would follow him and, sure enough, he soon heard the footsteps running after him.
“Mark? Where are you going?” He ran to catch Mark up and walked slowly beside him trying to catch Mark’s attention but Mark kept walking and stared straight ahead.
“Aren’t bodyguards supposed to be passive observers of the principle unless the principle in endangered in any way?” Mark said coldly and stopped walking to face Eduardo who was already facing him on the pathway.
“Yes, sir.” Eduardo said properly and stepped behind Mark. Mark laughed bitterly, turned his head and decided to keep walking. Chris was supposed to meet him at the club and he was five minutes late already, having got caught up talking to people about the election.
Right now he was still a little raw about the situation with Eduardo and all he wanted to do was to live a little before his protection level was lifted higher and he was seriously in danger of losing all opportunities of being an eighteen year old.
He turned at the end of the road, still hearing the echo of Eduardo’s footsteps behind him. When Eduardo was on duty, Lars and Sergei weren’t needed for some reason. Maybe it was because Eduardo was their team leader and didn’t need back up. Either way Mark was alone with Eduardo for the first time since the car journey home and the tension was just as thick.
--
The shooting in the White House was widely publicised and Mark’s face was plastered all over the newspapers because, for some reason, the paparazzi had decided to snap a photo of him instead of any of the rest of the more important guests. Eduardo was leaning in the car above him and obviously talking to two other people in the car (whom Mark knew as his parents and the paper speculated likewise). Mark’s face was caught white in the flash and his lips are red and swollen, the hit of a red mark emerging on the right side of his neck.
Gossip surrounding Mark and the names of several high flying girls at Harvard were thrown around in the article that Mark had read upon waking up as it was chucked at his head by Dustin that morning. He had overheard Lars chatting to Eduardo earlier that morning and Eduardo had nervously asked whether he knew that Mark was interested in dating these girls. Lars had laughed but Mark couldn’t hear his response.
Mark hadn’t really known what to make of that.
--
The bar Chris was meeting him at was packed and buzzing by the time Mark and Eduardo had pushed themselves inside. Eduardo had placed his palm on Mark’s back, gently pressing him forwards, but once they reached the bar which Chris was leaning against he still hadn’t removed his hand. Mark stepped forwards to greet Chris. He couldn’t think while Wardo was touching him.
“Nice to see you could make it.” Chris shouted out over the buzz of the music before he ordered a drink for them both.
Eduardo protested, “I’m working, Chris.” And pointed to his hip where Mark knew a gun was sitting.
“Yeah because it looks so dangerous in here, War-Eduardo.” Mark said sharply before walking off into the crowd to be engulfed with the other dancers. He didn’t need protection. He didn’t need Eduardo.
“Mark!” He heard Eduardo call before he disappeared into the thrumming crowd. Some disco/techno music was pumping and it made his feet vibrate all the way up to his knees. His joints felt funny but he’d only had a couple of beers and shots that night.
The people around him seemed so free. Mark had never felt free; he was always constrained, his hands tucked in pockets and his shoulders sloped inwards as if he was hiding from the world. He wanted one night of forgetting everything. He didn’t know this song and as it slid into another beat he didn’t recognise this one either.
He was so confused about this Eduardo thing. One minute Mark couldn’t stop staring at the man and thinking I love that man and various other soppy thoughts that further angered Mark over Eduardo for making him think them in the first place. Sometimes he felt totally self-defeated and manipulated. Mostly Mark just felt hurt. By his father, partially, but mostly down to Eduardo who had kissed him back so passionately that night. Who’d made Mark feel wanted for once for who he was not for being a novelty. It churned his stomach to remember how deeply he still felt about Eduardo. His body was constantly betraying him nowadays.
Mark spun around slowly taking in the florescent lights and the lazars travelling from the ceiling horizontally downwards until it seemingly scanned the jerking bodies beneath it. People bumped into him and he steadied himself.
“Hey,” A voice called out. The middle of a dance floor is the not the best place to hold a conversation, Wardo, Mark thought before he turned around to see it wasn’t Eduardo.
The man moved closer to him and spoke loudly in his ear, “I’m Sean Parker. Nice to meet you.”
--
Sean had bought Mark a couple more drinks and Mark was feeling distinctly floaty. Bodies were fluttering around him like butterflies but he couldn’t focus on anyone but Sean as he moved his hands around - talking about his business and some crummy story about him, a Jacuzzi and Japanese triplets.
Mark had to grab Sean’s shirt to stay upright but Sean saw this as an invitation to pull Mark back onto the dance floor with him. Mark was tipsy enough to realise this was a come on but he didn’t really care. Eduardo was nowhere to be seen and why would he care? Mark was a nameless face to Sean; why not have some fun?
Sean pulled Mark’s back tight into his front and grinded down on him. The alcohol had heightened Mark’s senses and he responded by throwing his neck back and attempted moving in time with Sean. People were bouncing all around them and the music felt like it was pumping through his veins.
A tingle ran down his legs as Sean placed a hand on his chest and proceeded to run in up and down until he reached the waistband of Mark’s jeans. He grinded harder into Mark and mouthed at his neck that was resting on Sean’s shoulder. Mark opened his eyes and groaned loudly as Sean thumbed along the edge of his boxers before dipping his index finger underneath.
Suddenly the heat of Sean pressing up against his back was wrenched away and he stumbled backwards and turned around angrily expecting to shout at Sean. Not expecting to see Wardo punch Sean square in the face.
“Can’t you see he’s out of his mind drunk, you jerk? Hasn’t anyone told you not to take advantage?” Eduardo kicked Sean on the floor before grabbing Mark’s hand and dragging him out of the club, Mark stumbling behind him.
The cold of the street outside in contrast from the heat of the club hit Mark like a wall and yanked his hand from Wardo’s grasp.
“What the fuck was that, Wardo?” Mark slurred. Eduardo tried to get his hand back but he moved back so he couldn’t reach him, “Why did you punch Sean? He didn’t do anything to you, you don’t even know him!”
“He was-He was touching you, Mark. You were vulnerable. I needed to intervene.” Eduardo said, repeating himself as if it would help him convince himself that he hadn’t behaved rashly.
“He was touching me because we were dancing and because I wanted him to. Besides what’s wrong with him touching me?” Mark shouted back. Eduardo had quite clearly stated they couldn’t be together, that he couldn’t risk losing his job and reputation for Mark. That he hadn’t wanted Mark. What was Eduardo trying to say now?
“Don’t pretend you don’t know how I feel about you, Mark. How I would feel about him touching you.” Mark laughed in disbelief at Eduardo and tried to walk down the road.
He could barely see straight ahead without the rood wobbling before his eyes but he managed to get a few yards down the street but not without releasing a wet sob from his throat. Couldn’t anyone understand that he just wanted to be normal for once? He wanted to fall in love with someone who could feasibly fall in love with him too; put up with his coding and anti-social habits, not pretend to be his something and then turn around and actually be someone totally different and have totally different motives for being with him.
Eduardo jogged after him and quite easily caught up with him. Mark was so inebriated he couldn’t run far without feeling sick to his stomach - he could feel his brain sloshing from side to side inside his skull as he walked but he daren’t cry. He wasn’t going to get emotional over someone like Eduardo.
Mark felt the grip of Eduardo’s arms wrap around him and abruptly they fell, crashing into the gutter, Mark wriggling in Eduardo’s arms before leaning sideways into the heat of Eduardo’s chest, and Eduardo breathing heavily into Mark’s neck before placing a barely-touching kiss against Mark’s collarbone.
“Christ,” Eduardo muttered against his skin. Mark’s head felt heavy as he turned it on its side to face Eduardo. The thin t shirt Mark was wearing moved down and attracted Eduardo’s attention to the purple hickey on Mark’s neck in the moonlight and glowing neon tubes from shop windows that made the road glow. Eduardo traced the oval shape on Mark’s neck with his thumb and sucked his bottom lip. “Mark.” Eduardo leant forwards and pressed his mouth to Mark’s ear, “Tell me I made that, Mark, tell me that was me. Not that guy in the club. Tell me.” He whispered in a ragged voice, his throat catching on the last few syllables.
“Only you, Wardo. Just you.” Mark brought his hand up to cup Wardo’s head, anger disappearing after hearing the desperation in Wardo’s voice.
“Mark.” Wardo’s voice cracked, “Look at us.” They both looked down at the pavement they were tangled up on. They laughed together as Eduardo struggled to his feet and held out a hand to Mark who immediately laced their fingers tightly together and looked up at Eduardo.
“Let’s get you home.”
--
Dustin was a light sleeper and when Mark and Eduardo had stumbled in late last night he woke up. Listening to his friends (well his friend and his friend’s bodyguard who was sort of his friend too) stumbling about in the living room. Dustin poked his head out of his door to see Eduardo making Mark drink a large glass of water, which Dustin suspected was supposed to sober Mark up. Eduardo was considerate like that. Or was it part of his job? Dustin didn’t know.
Mark giggled once he’d finished it and placed it upside down over his head in victory. Eduardo swiped a water drop Mark had left on his cheek with his finger before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Mark’s cheek and keeping his face pressed against Mark and stroking his neck.
“I can’t do this while you’re drunk, Mark.” He pulled back and laughed quietly before taking Mark by the shoulders and directing him to Mark’s bedroom.
Dustin pulled his head back inside his room and leant back on his own door, “Oh my god.”
--
A text alert on Mark’s phone woke him next day, alone, in his dorm room. He rubbed his hand over his face before getting out of bed and rummaging around in his clothes from the previous night before finding his phone.
From: Eduardo
L and S on duty. I’ll see you at lunch. Will bring Chinese - we need to talk. E
Mark threw his phone on his desk where it bounced off his laptop and settled on the computer keyboard. His mouth felt like someone had filled it full of cotton wool and then made him drink cough syrup. Trying to brush his teeth didn’t get rid of the taste so he took a quick shower hoping it would wake him up enough before wiring in.
“Mark? Dude, where are you?” Dustin called out before walking into the bathroom and sitting on the sink counter whilst Mark was washing his hair.
“Dustin, what the fuck? I’m in the shower!” Mark shouted out and poked his head around the shower curtain. Dustin had his mobile phone rested in the space between his neck and shoulder and was talking emphatically into it.
“…Yes, Mr Zuckerberg, he’s very untidy, still. Even Eduardo fails to make him tidy his room.” He paused for a second while Mark looked at him in horror, “Yeah, Wardo’s here all the time. I mean, now he’s protecting Mark and all. I mean he’s here even when he’s off-duty. Actually now I think about it, he’s here all the time. I mean he goes grocery shopping with Chris…”
“Right that’s it.” Mark decided. He didn’t want his dad knowing any more about how often Eduardo was in their dorm room. Not when he wasn’t really sure what was going on between them and/or how many rules they had broken the night of the dinner. Mark’s dad had already seen the hickey. Mark wrapped a towel around his waist and ripping the phone from Dustin’s hand.
“Eww, Mark don’t touch me with your showery water hand! I DON’T KNOW WHERE IT’S BEEN!” Dustin ran out of the bathroom shouting, probably waking up Chris and Billy.
“Hey dad, or Mr President is it now? Congratulations.” Mark smiled having got his mobile back from Dustin.
“Thanks, son. You’re coming home for Hanukkah? We can celebrate properly then. I know you probably can’t get out of school till the holidays.”
“That’s the plan. I hope, I hope you know how proud I am of you.” Mark looked at the floor. He’d never been very good at explaining his feelings but he knew that his dad would understand.
“I do. Speak soon, ok? And tell Dustin to calm down a little.” His dad laughed before ending the call. Mark settled the phone back on the sink counter and turned around to go to his room and get dressed.
Dustin had, of course, left the bathroom door wide open and when Mark turned around, still wet from the shower with just a towel around his waist to face Eduardo holding a bag of what Mark suspected to being Chinese takeaway and his mouth slightly agape.
He coughed and Eduardo’s eyes slowly moved back up Mark’s chest to meet his face. Eduardo blushed and met his eyes. His pupils were black with heat and Mark was about to open his mouth to say something but Dustin ran up and slapped Eduardo on the shoulder.
“Hey, you guys were up late last night! I’ve said congrats to your dad by the way, buddy. We’ve been fending away well wishers all morning.” Dustin laughed.
“Yeah, Lars is on his way over so you don’t have to do that anymore, Dustin.” Eduardo smiled and stepped away from the door to let Mark push through so he could finally get to his room instead of standing half naked in the bathroom in front of the man he was in - the man he liked.
“Mark, you look like a wet dog!” Dustin called after him as Mark slammed his room’s door behind him before hopping into some clean clothes.
He could hear voices in the living room and, hoping it was just Wardo letting Lars in he stepped out of the room and fell on the sofa, pulling Dustin’s laptop off the floor and checking some code he had saved on here earlier as he waited for Eduardo to finish giving Lars orders.
“Mark, can we talk?”
--
Part 3