Cautioned (Mark/Sean, Mark/Eduardo, R)
Cautioned
by Charli J
The Social Network. Mark/Sean, implied Mark/Eduardo. R. 2900 words.
After dinner, Mark still wants to hear what else Sean has to say.
Thanks to M for the help! Yeah, this was bound to happen. Sort of a what-if.
;;
"Do you feel like going somewhere else?" Mark asked.
"What, for dessert?" Eduardo said.
Christy said, "I have zero room left for more food."
"He mentioned that he might head somewhere, a club or something," Mark said. He glanced toward the restaurant entrance. "We could have more drinks."
"That wouldn't be a bad thing," Christy said, nudging Eduardo.
Folding his napkin on the table, Eduardo said, "We've pressed our luck already."
"He might be able to tell us some more of his ideas now," Mark said. "Sean's got them already. Why wait? We could go with him, get a better idea."
"Hear more about fish."
"It was a good metaphor."
Readjusting his jacket as he stood, Eduardo said, "He was putting on a show. He talked more about himself --"
"I was convinced," Christy said, a little sheepishly.
"Yeah," Mark said, glancing at her. "I want to hear more."
"I want to go to bed," Eduardo said. "We've been going almost non-stop. I want to sleep."
As they gathered their things, Eduardo thanked their waitress again, grabbing Christy's hand and heading toward the door. Mark was right behind them, pulling up on Eduardo's other side.
He said, "Everybody's so tall here. Dressed up."
"Vivienne Tam designs all of the employee clothing. The hostess mentioned it to me," Christy said, moving her arm up, linking her and Eduardo's arm at the elbows. "You could've at least put on different shoes, Mark. It's chilly outside, and that's a nice restaurant."
"I'm comfortable," Mark said, tilting his face up as they exited the building. He turned his attention down to his phone. "It's not even midnight."
Eduardo said, "I've been up since 6:30 this morning."
Pressing his lips together, Mark considered his phone again and then said, "I think I'm going to catch up with Sean. He might have some ideas about which other west coast colleges to get into next. We can talk process."
"No one talks process in nightclubs."
"You're not dressed for it," Christy said, leaning forward to see Mark.
"Sean won't care." Mark pulled up the hoodie on his sweatshirt, and then tugged it back down again just as quickly. To Eduardo, he said, "Then I need you there. You'd talk process."
"Mark --"
"I need you."
"Can this wait until the morning?" Eduardo asked. "If he's partying already, then it doesn't matter. Me and Christy will probably just stay in. I'm --"
"Right, you're bailing on me."
"I'm sleepy."
"It's fine," Mark said. "You're probably right. I have to check in on the site anyway."
"Do you need my help?"
"No, I can do a check-in on my own," Mark said, brusk.
Eduardo stopped him, placing a hand on Mark's shoulder and making him give Eduardo all of his attention. Eduardo was particular about eye contact and firm handshakes. He'd learned it form his father. Right after they'd first met, Eduardo spent a good five minutes showing Mark how to greet somebody like he meant it. "Nobody likes a fish grip," Eduardo had said, which was sort of funny in light of the evening. Mark didn't laugh.
Eduardo said, "First thing in the morning, I'll come to your room."
"Sure."
"First thing, Mark," Eduardo said again, squeezing his shoulder. The slightest pressure.
"Okay," Mark said, nodding this time. He held Eduardo's eyes, let him stand there until he felt satisfied enough to look away first.
"You should get some sleep, too," Eduardo said, sliding his hand lower. He curved his fingers around Mark's bicep for a moment, then let go.
Mark said, "Yeah, I will," and hesitated when Eduardo and Christy began to step again.
Looking back, Eduardo said, "The train's this way. Did you want to catch a cab?"
"No, I'll," Mark said, digging his hand into his pockets. "I think I might've dropped my wallet back there. You guys go ahead, and I'll catch up."
"Are you sure? We can -- "
"I can find you later. Go ahead. You're tired."
He didn't wait for Eduardo to agree, spinning on his heel and moving back toward the restaurant. Mark ducked inside, muttering something to the hostess about leaving his wallet at their table. His wallet was fine, tucked away in his pocket, so instead Mark went to the bathroom and pulled out the card Sean had slipped each of them.
It was plain white, neat print, name and number. Sean Parker. He's been staying in California, and he'd mentioned to Mark and Eduardo that if they really wanted the site to grow, they'd made the right decision by expanding west.
Sean had said he'd get in touch with them, but Mark pulled out his phone and dialed the number anyway.
"Hello," Sean said, sort of shouting. He'd probably already made his way to a club.
"I want to catch an 800-pound marlin," Mark said.
Sean said, "Mark?"
"Yes, it's Mark -- Zuckerberg."
"You used the card," Sean said, and Mark could hear the smirk in his voice. Sean liked to talk through a smile, Mark had noticed. It was the first thing he'd noticed, after his confidence. Sean was all confidence -- in presentation, in his ideas. Mark wanted to know more. "Now what was that you were saying?"
"I don't even like trout," Mark said. Sean laughed.
;;
The hotel where Sean had a room was twice as nice as the place where Eduardo had booked rooms for them.
"I try to stay here whenever I'm in the city now," Sean said. "They treat me better than anywhere else. It feels like a second home."
"I usually crash on someone's floor when I'm in New York." Mark dragged his hand across the smooth surface of a corner table. "Carpet and hardwood might be home to me." He marveled at how much space Sean had in his suite, all for one person, for a couple nights. "This is huge. And you're kind of between projects?"
"There's still some money in the bank," Sean said, taking off his jacket and lying it on a chair in the opposite corner.
"Impressive."
Giving him a sidelong grin, Sean said, "You're impressed by money?"
Shaking his head, Mark said, "By the audacity of spending like this without a job."
"I've had jobs," Sean said.
Mark said, "I've had jobs, too, but I'm still living on ramen and hope right now."
"You ate well tonight."
"Thank you -- for that -- by the way." Mark stayed by the table, watching Sean as he stepped out of his shoes and moved around the room, settling into the space.
Sean said, "My pleasure. I had to make a good impression, didn't I?"
"Mission accomplished," Mark said, then thumped his knuckles against the table idly, feeling too forward. He cleared his throat. "Are you about to turn in, or. I thought you'd be staying at the club. If you're going to bed, I can --"
"What do you want?" Sean asked, his back to Mark as he opened the mini-fridge.
"In general?" Mark asked.
Sean looked around and smiled again. He said, "To start," and held up a bottle of wine. "It's chilled. White okay?"
"Oh. Yeah," Mark said. He still had a slight buzz from the abundance of appletinis at dinner, but Sean was offering.
Sean set out two glasses and poured wine in each, setting the bottle aside and bringing one the glasses to Mark. He said, "It's one of my favorite pinot blancs. I didn't know much about wine before last year, but now I try to go to Napa or Sonoma and do some tasting here and there. I've heard that anybody with real taste learns how to discern worthwhile wines. Do you know anything about wine?"
"Not to drink it out of a box on a school night."
Chuckling, Sean said, "You should come to the vineyard. You'd like it. We'll put it on the list of things for you to do in California. Girls love guys who can say impressive things about alcohol, too."
"Wardo thinks you're arrogant," Mark said
Considering that, Sean sipped from his glass again and then said, "What do you think?"
"I don't care. You know what you're talking about." Mark finished the rest of his glass in three gulps, leaving it on the corner table.
"Is that why you called me and he didn't?"
"He's," Mark started, and then reconsidered. "His girlfriend's in town with us. Christy, who you know now. They wanted to call it an early night together. I told him I could come talk to you some more."
"That's kind." Sean leaned in, saying, "It's good that you two are a team. Your website has potential, and it can only get better if everyone's on the same page."
"Eduardo's in," Mark said. "We're dropping the 'the' from the name. He agrees; you're right. It's simpler."
"People like single names. Easy to say, easier to remember. It's always better to avoid a mouthful," Sean said, drinking more wine. "Unless that's what you want."
Mark exhaled, looking away and then back. Sean seemed to have a thing about eye contact too.
"Finish this? I've had a lot already," Sean said, holding up his glass. There wasn't much left. Mark reached for the glass slowly, his fingers bumping into Sean's as it changed hands. He tipped his head back to down the liquid. When he straightened up again, Sean was still watching him. Mark set the second glass next to his own, swallowing.
He said, "Why do you think we should come to California?"
The corner of Sean's mouth picked up. Mark's gaze darted away -- to the side, down, catching sight of Sean's jacket on the bed, and the way the top button on his shirt was undone. Sean said, "Well, just look at the company. Apple's still out there. And Google, everybody's favorite story of the last five years."
"It would be too early to sell, wouldn't it?" Mark asked, narrowing his gaze.
Sean said, "Selling would be worse than advertising right now -- "
"Wardo just doesn't want us to lose on this. He's funding it --"
" -- I mean it sends a message to be in the same arena as everybody who knows how to invest in something like Facebook." Sean bumped the back of his hand against Mark, landing somewhere on his stomach and skidding sideways, like a point to his sentence. He repeated it over and over the longer he spoke. "You've got a network most people can't even see yet. At least if you move into MySpace's backyard, they know you're serious."
Mark caught Sean's wrist when his hand flicked forward again, coming in for another jab. He held on loosely, saying, "You want me to come to California for intimidation."
"For one," Sean said, and the smirk was back. "Would Eduardo let you?"
"He's not my father."
"That wasn't what I thought."
Mark was a smart person, logical, and tipping forward just made sense, then. It was the quickest way to prove a point. He was still startled when Sean kissed him back, sucking in a breath too quickly, gasping against Sean's mouth as he freed his and dragged his fingers down Mark's stomach more deliberately. The shock only worsened the more Sean touched him, ratcheting up until he could feel himself shake, just badly enough to be noticeable, the cool tips of Sean's fingers making Mark curse under his breath as Sean snuck underneath the hoodie and found skin.
"Shit," Mark breathed.
"Will you take this off?"
"Yeah," Mark said, breathing in deep. His hands couldn't figure out if he should continue or back out, though, as Sean gave him an inch to maneuver. He pushed past the indecision, didn't take time to rethink how things had shifted so quickly, everything about the room electric hazy all of a sudden, and then Mark was shirtless and Sean grinned at him again.
"Are you alright?" Sean asked. He was amused.
Mark rolled his shoulders, trying to keep them back. He said, "This isn't something. It's not that I'm not fine."
Sean moved in and kissed him again before Mark could get any further. It was probably for the best. Mark muffled a few words against Sean's lips, and Sean laughed, said, "I just want to blow you. Let me get your belt now."
"Okay," Mark said, and he took another breath. Yeah. Sure, that could work for him.
It turned out that Sean sucked cock with the same bravado he did everything else, like he just knew he'd do it right. Mark didn't get his pants all the way off, his belt cutting into the backs of his knees while he flexed his hands against Sean's naked shoulders.
Sean stopped before Mark could finish, crawling up and covering his. His dick slid alongside Mark's, hard against Mark's belly. Sean bit Mark's jaw, grazed his teeth along the slope of bone and made his way to Mark's ear, breathing hotly as he said, "Help?"
It took some trial and error, a few false starts, but Mark wrapped his hand around both of them, eventually stopped letting the head of Sean's cock slip from his fist, and when they came, Sean kissed him as the mess smeared between their bodies.
"Where'd you learn to do that?" Mark asked as Sean caught his breath, mouth lingering near Mark's neck.
"What?"
"Your mouth."
Sean laughed low, the shake of it felt against Mark's arm. When Sean exhaled, it cooled Mark's skin. He said, "You should come to Palo Alto."
"You think we should be closer to Stanford?" Mark said. "Isn't MySpace farther south?"
"Sure," Sean said, "But Palo Alto taught me everything I know."
;;
A few weeks ago, Mark had never been pushed into a bathroom stall by a girl just to watch her get down on her knees. Before tonight, he'd also never taken a cab back to his own place at 4am after an impromptu night with a would-be technology playboy.
Maybe after Palo Alto, Mark could always eat well.
"You said a right up here?" the cabbie asked, angling his head sideways slightly to be heard over the seat.
"Huh? Yeah, that's right," Mark said, sitting up. "Thanks."
;;
"You slept through your alarm," was the first thing Mark heard in the morning. He picked up his head and saw Eduardo pick his phone up from the nightstand, silencing the ringing.
Mark yawned, willing away the fuzz in his brain. "What time is it?"
"Eight-thirty," Eduardo said. He pressed his knees against the edge of the mattress. "We have to get breakfast before we head back to Boston. Are you alright?"
Mark wriggled sideways on the bed, giving Eduardo room to sit. He stretched out with his back against the headboard, his legs extended in front of him. Mark said, "I guess I was drunker than I thought."
"Are you sick?"
"Eggs," Mark said. "Eggs and orange juice. I'll be golden again."
"There's a place close-by that I think you'll like," Eduardo said, bending his knee just enough to bump Mark's thigh through the covers. "How was the site? Still up?"
Mark had been too exhausted to check when he'd gotten upstairs. "It's perfect."
"I'm sorry about last night," Eduardo said.
"You don't like Sean, it's okay."
"I never said I didn't like him."
"You don't."
"But he's right about the name," Eduardo conceded. He slumped down on the bed, unconcerned with his suit. "We'll see if we hear back from those advertisers, and we'll have Sean tell us more about his VCs out west."
Sean. He was right, everything they needed to do next was waiting in California. They'd figure out how to get out there. Mark said, "I still don't think we need the advertisers. The meetings didn't really go well."
"Can we just see, Mark?" Eduardo bounced a little, edging toward frustration.
"Alright, alright," Mark said, reaching out to still Eduardo's movement. His head still felt sort of fragile. Note: sex didn't cancel out the possibility of suffering a hangover. He shouldn't have finished that last glass of wine. Mark inhaled slowly and closed his eyes. He drummed his fingertips along Eduardo's side.
He said, "I'm sorry, too."
"Yeah," Eduardo said. "Let's blame it on New York. We've done a lot the past few days, working on the site at the same time. You haven't been sleeping enough."
"I'm okay."
"We're tired. You're tired," Eduardo says, looking at Mark, and then sighing. "Anyway. Breakfast?"
As he started to move, jostling the bed, Mark flung his arm out to stop him. "Wait, wait, wait."
Pausing, Eduardo furrowed his brow. "You are sick."
"I'm not," Mark said, squeezing his eyes shut. Okay, he was a little sick. "I just -- you need to be still."
"Let me get you some water," Eduardo said, starting to get up again.
"I need you," Mark said and tightened his grip as his hand dropped down to grasp Eduardo's fingers. "Wardo."
Nodding, Eduardo laid out on the bed again, breathing out and scooting close. Mark intertwined their fingers, letting his eyes shut. He wasn't ready for light yet. He asked, "Where's Christy?"
"She's showering," Eduardo said. "And then she said she wanted to go downstairs to find coffee."
"Do you need to go?"
Eduardo was quiet. He shifted on the sheets, not enough to cause much stir. He said, "No, she'll come back up. I can stay for a minute."
"Okay," Mark said, already relaxed again. "Good."
by Charli J
The Social Network. Mark/Sean, implied Mark/Eduardo. R. 2900 words.
After dinner, Mark still wants to hear what else Sean has to say.
Thanks to M for the help! Yeah, this was bound to happen. Sort of a what-if.
;;
"Do you feel like going somewhere else?" Mark asked.
"What, for dessert?" Eduardo said.
Christy said, "I have zero room left for more food."
"He mentioned that he might head somewhere, a club or something," Mark said. He glanced toward the restaurant entrance. "We could have more drinks."
"That wouldn't be a bad thing," Christy said, nudging Eduardo.
Folding his napkin on the table, Eduardo said, "We've pressed our luck already."
"He might be able to tell us some more of his ideas now," Mark said. "Sean's got them already. Why wait? We could go with him, get a better idea."
"Hear more about fish."
"It was a good metaphor."
Readjusting his jacket as he stood, Eduardo said, "He was putting on a show. He talked more about himself --"
"I was convinced," Christy said, a little sheepishly.
"Yeah," Mark said, glancing at her. "I want to hear more."
"I want to go to bed," Eduardo said. "We've been going almost non-stop. I want to sleep."
As they gathered their things, Eduardo thanked their waitress again, grabbing Christy's hand and heading toward the door. Mark was right behind them, pulling up on Eduardo's other side.
He said, "Everybody's so tall here. Dressed up."
"Vivienne Tam designs all of the employee clothing. The hostess mentioned it to me," Christy said, moving her arm up, linking her and Eduardo's arm at the elbows. "You could've at least put on different shoes, Mark. It's chilly outside, and that's a nice restaurant."
"I'm comfortable," Mark said, tilting his face up as they exited the building. He turned his attention down to his phone. "It's not even midnight."
Eduardo said, "I've been up since 6:30 this morning."
Pressing his lips together, Mark considered his phone again and then said, "I think I'm going to catch up with Sean. He might have some ideas about which other west coast colleges to get into next. We can talk process."
"No one talks process in nightclubs."
"You're not dressed for it," Christy said, leaning forward to see Mark.
"Sean won't care." Mark pulled up the hoodie on his sweatshirt, and then tugged it back down again just as quickly. To Eduardo, he said, "Then I need you there. You'd talk process."
"Mark --"
"I need you."
"Can this wait until the morning?" Eduardo asked. "If he's partying already, then it doesn't matter. Me and Christy will probably just stay in. I'm --"
"Right, you're bailing on me."
"I'm sleepy."
"It's fine," Mark said. "You're probably right. I have to check in on the site anyway."
"Do you need my help?"
"No, I can do a check-in on my own," Mark said, brusk.
Eduardo stopped him, placing a hand on Mark's shoulder and making him give Eduardo all of his attention. Eduardo was particular about eye contact and firm handshakes. He'd learned it form his father. Right after they'd first met, Eduardo spent a good five minutes showing Mark how to greet somebody like he meant it. "Nobody likes a fish grip," Eduardo had said, which was sort of funny in light of the evening. Mark didn't laugh.
Eduardo said, "First thing in the morning, I'll come to your room."
"Sure."
"First thing, Mark," Eduardo said again, squeezing his shoulder. The slightest pressure.
"Okay," Mark said, nodding this time. He held Eduardo's eyes, let him stand there until he felt satisfied enough to look away first.
"You should get some sleep, too," Eduardo said, sliding his hand lower. He curved his fingers around Mark's bicep for a moment, then let go.
Mark said, "Yeah, I will," and hesitated when Eduardo and Christy began to step again.
Looking back, Eduardo said, "The train's this way. Did you want to catch a cab?"
"No, I'll," Mark said, digging his hand into his pockets. "I think I might've dropped my wallet back there. You guys go ahead, and I'll catch up."
"Are you sure? We can -- "
"I can find you later. Go ahead. You're tired."
He didn't wait for Eduardo to agree, spinning on his heel and moving back toward the restaurant. Mark ducked inside, muttering something to the hostess about leaving his wallet at their table. His wallet was fine, tucked away in his pocket, so instead Mark went to the bathroom and pulled out the card Sean had slipped each of them.
It was plain white, neat print, name and number. Sean Parker. He's been staying in California, and he'd mentioned to Mark and Eduardo that if they really wanted the site to grow, they'd made the right decision by expanding west.
Sean had said he'd get in touch with them, but Mark pulled out his phone and dialed the number anyway.
"Hello," Sean said, sort of shouting. He'd probably already made his way to a club.
"I want to catch an 800-pound marlin," Mark said.
Sean said, "Mark?"
"Yes, it's Mark -- Zuckerberg."
"You used the card," Sean said, and Mark could hear the smirk in his voice. Sean liked to talk through a smile, Mark had noticed. It was the first thing he'd noticed, after his confidence. Sean was all confidence -- in presentation, in his ideas. Mark wanted to know more. "Now what was that you were saying?"
"I don't even like trout," Mark said. Sean laughed.
;;
The hotel where Sean had a room was twice as nice as the place where Eduardo had booked rooms for them.
"I try to stay here whenever I'm in the city now," Sean said. "They treat me better than anywhere else. It feels like a second home."
"I usually crash on someone's floor when I'm in New York." Mark dragged his hand across the smooth surface of a corner table. "Carpet and hardwood might be home to me." He marveled at how much space Sean had in his suite, all for one person, for a couple nights. "This is huge. And you're kind of between projects?"
"There's still some money in the bank," Sean said, taking off his jacket and lying it on a chair in the opposite corner.
"Impressive."
Giving him a sidelong grin, Sean said, "You're impressed by money?"
Shaking his head, Mark said, "By the audacity of spending like this without a job."
"I've had jobs," Sean said.
Mark said, "I've had jobs, too, but I'm still living on ramen and hope right now."
"You ate well tonight."
"Thank you -- for that -- by the way." Mark stayed by the table, watching Sean as he stepped out of his shoes and moved around the room, settling into the space.
Sean said, "My pleasure. I had to make a good impression, didn't I?"
"Mission accomplished," Mark said, then thumped his knuckles against the table idly, feeling too forward. He cleared his throat. "Are you about to turn in, or. I thought you'd be staying at the club. If you're going to bed, I can --"
"What do you want?" Sean asked, his back to Mark as he opened the mini-fridge.
"In general?" Mark asked.
Sean looked around and smiled again. He said, "To start," and held up a bottle of wine. "It's chilled. White okay?"
"Oh. Yeah," Mark said. He still had a slight buzz from the abundance of appletinis at dinner, but Sean was offering.
Sean set out two glasses and poured wine in each, setting the bottle aside and bringing one the glasses to Mark. He said, "It's one of my favorite pinot blancs. I didn't know much about wine before last year, but now I try to go to Napa or Sonoma and do some tasting here and there. I've heard that anybody with real taste learns how to discern worthwhile wines. Do you know anything about wine?"
"Not to drink it out of a box on a school night."
Chuckling, Sean said, "You should come to the vineyard. You'd like it. We'll put it on the list of things for you to do in California. Girls love guys who can say impressive things about alcohol, too."
"Wardo thinks you're arrogant," Mark said
Considering that, Sean sipped from his glass again and then said, "What do you think?"
"I don't care. You know what you're talking about." Mark finished the rest of his glass in three gulps, leaving it on the corner table.
"Is that why you called me and he didn't?"
"He's," Mark started, and then reconsidered. "His girlfriend's in town with us. Christy, who you know now. They wanted to call it an early night together. I told him I could come talk to you some more."
"That's kind." Sean leaned in, saying, "It's good that you two are a team. Your website has potential, and it can only get better if everyone's on the same page."
"Eduardo's in," Mark said. "We're dropping the 'the' from the name. He agrees; you're right. It's simpler."
"People like single names. Easy to say, easier to remember. It's always better to avoid a mouthful," Sean said, drinking more wine. "Unless that's what you want."
Mark exhaled, looking away and then back. Sean seemed to have a thing about eye contact too.
"Finish this? I've had a lot already," Sean said, holding up his glass. There wasn't much left. Mark reached for the glass slowly, his fingers bumping into Sean's as it changed hands. He tipped his head back to down the liquid. When he straightened up again, Sean was still watching him. Mark set the second glass next to his own, swallowing.
He said, "Why do you think we should come to California?"
The corner of Sean's mouth picked up. Mark's gaze darted away -- to the side, down, catching sight of Sean's jacket on the bed, and the way the top button on his shirt was undone. Sean said, "Well, just look at the company. Apple's still out there. And Google, everybody's favorite story of the last five years."
"It would be too early to sell, wouldn't it?" Mark asked, narrowing his gaze.
Sean said, "Selling would be worse than advertising right now -- "
"Wardo just doesn't want us to lose on this. He's funding it --"
" -- I mean it sends a message to be in the same arena as everybody who knows how to invest in something like Facebook." Sean bumped the back of his hand against Mark, landing somewhere on his stomach and skidding sideways, like a point to his sentence. He repeated it over and over the longer he spoke. "You've got a network most people can't even see yet. At least if you move into MySpace's backyard, they know you're serious."
Mark caught Sean's wrist when his hand flicked forward again, coming in for another jab. He held on loosely, saying, "You want me to come to California for intimidation."
"For one," Sean said, and the smirk was back. "Would Eduardo let you?"
"He's not my father."
"That wasn't what I thought."
Mark was a smart person, logical, and tipping forward just made sense, then. It was the quickest way to prove a point. He was still startled when Sean kissed him back, sucking in a breath too quickly, gasping against Sean's mouth as he freed his and dragged his fingers down Mark's stomach more deliberately. The shock only worsened the more Sean touched him, ratcheting up until he could feel himself shake, just badly enough to be noticeable, the cool tips of Sean's fingers making Mark curse under his breath as Sean snuck underneath the hoodie and found skin.
"Shit," Mark breathed.
"Will you take this off?"
"Yeah," Mark said, breathing in deep. His hands couldn't figure out if he should continue or back out, though, as Sean gave him an inch to maneuver. He pushed past the indecision, didn't take time to rethink how things had shifted so quickly, everything about the room electric hazy all of a sudden, and then Mark was shirtless and Sean grinned at him again.
"Are you alright?" Sean asked. He was amused.
Mark rolled his shoulders, trying to keep them back. He said, "This isn't something. It's not that I'm not fine."
Sean moved in and kissed him again before Mark could get any further. It was probably for the best. Mark muffled a few words against Sean's lips, and Sean laughed, said, "I just want to blow you. Let me get your belt now."
"Okay," Mark said, and he took another breath. Yeah. Sure, that could work for him.
It turned out that Sean sucked cock with the same bravado he did everything else, like he just knew he'd do it right. Mark didn't get his pants all the way off, his belt cutting into the backs of his knees while he flexed his hands against Sean's naked shoulders.
Sean stopped before Mark could finish, crawling up and covering his. His dick slid alongside Mark's, hard against Mark's belly. Sean bit Mark's jaw, grazed his teeth along the slope of bone and made his way to Mark's ear, breathing hotly as he said, "Help?"
It took some trial and error, a few false starts, but Mark wrapped his hand around both of them, eventually stopped letting the head of Sean's cock slip from his fist, and when they came, Sean kissed him as the mess smeared between their bodies.
"Where'd you learn to do that?" Mark asked as Sean caught his breath, mouth lingering near Mark's neck.
"What?"
"Your mouth."
Sean laughed low, the shake of it felt against Mark's arm. When Sean exhaled, it cooled Mark's skin. He said, "You should come to Palo Alto."
"You think we should be closer to Stanford?" Mark said. "Isn't MySpace farther south?"
"Sure," Sean said, "But Palo Alto taught me everything I know."
;;
A few weeks ago, Mark had never been pushed into a bathroom stall by a girl just to watch her get down on her knees. Before tonight, he'd also never taken a cab back to his own place at 4am after an impromptu night with a would-be technology playboy.
Maybe after Palo Alto, Mark could always eat well.
"You said a right up here?" the cabbie asked, angling his head sideways slightly to be heard over the seat.
"Huh? Yeah, that's right," Mark said, sitting up. "Thanks."
;;
"You slept through your alarm," was the first thing Mark heard in the morning. He picked up his head and saw Eduardo pick his phone up from the nightstand, silencing the ringing.
Mark yawned, willing away the fuzz in his brain. "What time is it?"
"Eight-thirty," Eduardo said. He pressed his knees against the edge of the mattress. "We have to get breakfast before we head back to Boston. Are you alright?"
Mark wriggled sideways on the bed, giving Eduardo room to sit. He stretched out with his back against the headboard, his legs extended in front of him. Mark said, "I guess I was drunker than I thought."
"Are you sick?"
"Eggs," Mark said. "Eggs and orange juice. I'll be golden again."
"There's a place close-by that I think you'll like," Eduardo said, bending his knee just enough to bump Mark's thigh through the covers. "How was the site? Still up?"
Mark had been too exhausted to check when he'd gotten upstairs. "It's perfect."
"I'm sorry about last night," Eduardo said.
"You don't like Sean, it's okay."
"I never said I didn't like him."
"You don't."
"But he's right about the name," Eduardo conceded. He slumped down on the bed, unconcerned with his suit. "We'll see if we hear back from those advertisers, and we'll have Sean tell us more about his VCs out west."
Sean. He was right, everything they needed to do next was waiting in California. They'd figure out how to get out there. Mark said, "I still don't think we need the advertisers. The meetings didn't really go well."
"Can we just see, Mark?" Eduardo bounced a little, edging toward frustration.
"Alright, alright," Mark said, reaching out to still Eduardo's movement. His head still felt sort of fragile. Note: sex didn't cancel out the possibility of suffering a hangover. He shouldn't have finished that last glass of wine. Mark inhaled slowly and closed his eyes. He drummed his fingertips along Eduardo's side.
He said, "I'm sorry, too."
"Yeah," Eduardo said. "Let's blame it on New York. We've done a lot the past few days, working on the site at the same time. You haven't been sleeping enough."
"I'm okay."
"We're tired. You're tired," Eduardo says, looking at Mark, and then sighing. "Anyway. Breakfast?"
As he started to move, jostling the bed, Mark flung his arm out to stop him. "Wait, wait, wait."
Pausing, Eduardo furrowed his brow. "You are sick."
"I'm not," Mark said, squeezing his eyes shut. Okay, he was a little sick. "I just -- you need to be still."
"Let me get you some water," Eduardo said, starting to get up again.
"I need you," Mark said and tightened his grip as his hand dropped down to grasp Eduardo's fingers. "Wardo."
Nodding, Eduardo laid out on the bed again, breathing out and scooting close. Mark intertwined their fingers, letting his eyes shut. He wasn't ready for light yet. He asked, "Where's Christy?"
"She's showering," Eduardo said. "And then she said she wanted to go downstairs to find coffee."
"Do you need to go?"
Eduardo was quiet. He shifted on the sheets, not enough to cause much stir. He said, "No, she'll come back up. I can stay for a minute."
"Okay," Mark said, already relaxed again. "Good."