fic: Got to Stand It 6/6
PART 5
May 2005
A big gesture.
What the fuck kind of big gesture is he supposed to make?
Mark-Mark isn’t the romantic type. He isn’t Hugh Grant. Big gestures don’t come naturally to him.
(And okay, fine, he will admit to watching a slew of romantic comedies, but it’s not his fault that they were having a Meg Ryan marathon on TBS and nothing else was on. Despite whatever Dustin says, it wasn’t for inspiration or anything.)
And besides, it’s just-it’s just not that easy. Erica, and Chris and Dustin, they all make it sound so simple, so obvious: Just get in touch with him! Tell him how you feel! Easy for them to say.
Because honestly, if Eduardo tells him to fuck off, Mark doesn’t know how he’ll be able to bear it. Erica was making it sound like he was some big courageous hero, just because he’s grown up a bit in the past year. But just because he’s finally stopped being such a pussy about his sexuality, and just because he decided to do the decent thing and call her-those things are so much less terrifying than the prospect of putting his heart on the line for the person that may be the love of his life.
It’s a big deal.
He knows there’s that whole cliché about how it’s better to take risks than just wonder what could have happened, or whatever, but that-that’s easier said than fucking done. If he never makes a move, he could still hold on to that tiny sliver of hope, and he doesn’t have to face the risk of knowing, once and for all, that it’s over between them.
But then he thinks-if Eduardo really is the love of his life, the love that only comes once in a lifetime, the one, (so he watched some Drew Barrymore movies too, shut up)-well, if he really is all those things, shouldn’t he at least know? Maybe the prospect of Eduardo going on with his life never knowing that Mark’s so totally in love with him, maybe that’s (slightly, marginally) worse.
Maybe it’s worth the risk, is what he’s saying.
Still, it takes him two months to build up the courage to go through with it. See, he keeps meaning to, thinking about calling him or sending an email or maybe a letter carried in by a swan or whatever-but then he loses his nerve, and puts it off.
He’s driving himself crazy, though-he can’t go on like this much longer-so one day he says to himself, It is time to grow a fucking pair, Zuckerberg, and buys a plane ticket to Boston for the next day.
---
It’s Harvard’s last day of finals, which means Eduardo will definitely be around tonight. Which also means no pussying out-it’s got to be today.
The five-hour flight from SFO to Logan is torturous. Mark can’t sit still, can’t focus on anything, can’t stop thinking about what he’s going to say and everything that could go wrong. He flits between the in-flight movie (a romantic comedy, of course) and constantly checking site updates on his phone.
It feels like ten hours.
When they land he doesn’t bother stopping for food (he can’t eat anyway) and he goes straight to get a cab (he doesn’t have any luggage) headed to Cambridge. He half expects it to be raining, to fit the dramatic mood, but the sky is clear, totally unsuited for a potentially life-changing night.
Being back on campus after a year, it’s a very weird feeling. Maybe it’s because everything is exactly the same, just as Mark left it. Here he feels like so much has changed in his life, but this place, which used to be something like a home, it is totally unaffected by the speed and power of his life tunneling forward. It’s as if he never left.
Mark knows where Eduardo’s living (Chris keeps not-so-subtly mentioning it to Dustin when he knows Mark is listening), one of the nicer upperclassman suite buildings. As he heads over there he concentrates on the familiar buildings, the stone paths beneath his feet, the sounds of students celebrating the end of the semester. He has to focus on these small details, otherwise he might have a panic attack or lose his nerve.
When he gets to Eduardo’s suite, there’s music playing and people laughing inside. Mark takes a steadying breath and knocks.
A blond guy holding a beer cup opens the door. “Hey man, what’s up?” he’s says, jovial. “Here for the party?” He squints. “Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?”
“I doubt it,” Mark says. “Um, is Eduardo here?”
The guy shrugs and then says, “Yeah, he’s inside. I’ll go get him,” and disappears.
A minute later, Eduardo comes to the door.
He doesn’t seem drunk, but there are bags under his eyes, most likely a result of finals-induced stress and sleep deprivation. Mark doesn’t remember him ever looking quite this exhausted, though, even this time last year when he was studying and managing Facebook arguing with Mark about New York all at the same time.
“Hi Wardo,” Mark says weakly.
Eduardo actually rubs his eyes, as if he thinks Mark is a fatigue-induced hallucination. When he opens them and Mark is still there, he says in an incredulous voice, “Mark?”
“Hi,” Mark says again. “What’s going on in there?”
“Graduation party,” says Eduardo, utterly dazed.
“But you’re a junior,” Mark points out.
“For my suitemates,” Eduardo says. “Mark, what are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” Mark says simply. “I have to tell you something.”
Eduardo steps out of the doorway into the hallway and closes the door behind him so they’re alone in the hallway. “What?” he says.
This is it, Mark thinks, feeling his heart wobble dangerously.
“I love you too,” he says.
(So it’s not exactly romantic-comedy standards, dramatic-speech-wise. But Mark, he isn’t the type for unnecessary frills and frivolities. There’s value in concision, he thinks, especially now, when he might not have the physical or emotional capacity to say much more.)
Eduardo stares at him, totally blank.
“You love me,” he repeats, voice lacking any inflection.
“Yeah, I do,” says Mark. “So-”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eduardo says, voice low.
In that moment, Mark wishes desperately he could erase the past ten seconds, backtrack and say something, anything different, because he knows immediately from Eduardo’s tone that this is going to end badly, horribly, and he’s made a gigantic mistake. But he can’t take it back.
“No, I’m not, actually,” he says, powering on. “I flew out here to tell you that.”
“You flew out here to tell me that you love me,” Eduardo says, and there’s a dangerous edge creeping into his voice.
“Yes,” Mark says anxiously.
“Let me see if I get this straight,” Eduardo says. “You flew out here a year after-”
“Ten months,” Mark interjects.
“Ten months, whatever,” Eduardo hisses. “You flew out here ten months after I said I was in love with you to tell me the feeling is mutual.”
“Yeah, but-”
“And in the meantime,” Eduardo says, lifting his voice over Mark’s, “I don’t hear a single fucking word from you.”
“I was afraid-”
“And now you’re here, expecting me to say what, exactly?” Eduardo says murderously.
“I don’t-” Mark hadn’t really thought that far ahead, and now he just wants to go crawl in the nearest pothole and die. “I flew out here just to tell you that. That I’m in love with you.”
Eduardo scoffs. “Wow, Mark, taking time out of your busy schedule just for me? I’m touched.”
“No, it-it was supposed to be a gesture,” Mark says desperately, and then immediately wishes he could take it back when he realizes he stupid it sounds.
“Oh, a gesture?” Eduardo says, and Mark notes with dread that he’s doing that eyes-narrowed-voice-up-an-octave thing he does when he’s about to go off on a hysterical tirade. “You know, that is just so fucking typical, Mark.”
“What’s typical?” Mark asks, although he really wishes he could stop this conversation in its tracks.
"Hm, let’s see,” Eduardo says nastily, and Mark wonders what levels of repression must be necessary for someone so sweet and gentle to be hiding a serial-killer-levels-of-terrifying spiteful streak. “How you’ve been totally screwing with my head for four years, and now you continue to do so?”
Mark doesn’t even try to interrupt. He knows it’s pointless.
“I mean, let me see if I can tell the whole story,” Eduardo goes on. “Just to see if I’ve got this straight.” The contents of Mark’s stomach seem to be sinking into his toes. Eduardo’s not about to stop now.
“As soon as I met you, it was just like, shit, because I just knew I had it bad for you. God knows how that happened, but it did. I guess I can’t blame you for that, though. But I figured, just forget about it, because I didn’t think you’d go for that, I mean I knew you had a girlfriend, and I thought, hey, whatever, I can live with it. But then, well, it turns out I was wrong, because it was just like ‘hey, guess what, now we’re sleeping together,’ and how did that happen? But jeez, I wasn’t about to stop it, and I guess that was my fault too. But I was thinking, well, I guess it’s just a summer fling, despite the fact that I was head over heels by the time we parted ways.”
His face is getting flushed, and the speed he’s speaking at almost reminds Mark of himself. It’s fairly terrifying, to be honest.
“So all senior year, I was trying to just forget about you. You never called, so I figured that was over for good, that was the last I would ever hear from you, although to be quite honest I couldn’t get you out of my head the entire year. And then I get to college and fucking hell, there you are, and it all comes right back to me. And it’s as if we’d never been apart, and I knew right then that there was no way I could go on without that, not with you right there. So when you gave me some bullshit deal about sneaking around, of course I was gonna agree with it, how could I not? Yeah, maybe that makes me an idiot, but I was gonna take whatever I could get from you, Mark, because there wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that I was in love with you.”
His voice is shaking, now, seemingly from the impact of finally letting out this stream of emotions that he’s been holding onto for so long.
“And then, Jesus, Mark, you just string me along for two fucking years! Never giving me a straight answer about our relationship, refusing to break up with your girlfriend, and even when you did, you still wouldn’t just face up to it! And of course, I of all people should know that you’re afraid of losing your rep, of course I understand that, but didn’t you ever think it was possible that maybe I was more important than that? Obviously not, from how you treated me. And I don’t think you realize how friggin’ manipulative you can be, when you get going with your ‘please, Wardo,’s and all the best friend bullshit. Because this whole time, I’ve basically been putty in your hands, giving you whatever the fuck you want, and I tried to stand up for myself, but every time, you just sucker me back in. And the worst part is that I always knew you were doing it, but I was powerless to stop it.”
“I’m sorry,” Mark says, but Eduardo doesn’t even seem to hear it.
“And then, when Facebook starts taking off and I finally, finally think things are actually going right, shit, you screw me over worse than ever. Do you even realize what it feels like to be second best to a website? Can you imagine how shitty that made me feel, when you couldn’t even be bothered to care about me now that you had your real dream coming true?”
“That’s not what happened,” Mark says. His despair is starting to curdle in his stomach and turn into anger.
“And then I finally tell you what I thought was obvious, the reason I put up with all this, and how to you respond to such a confession? You make it about the fucking company! You didn’t even care about what I was trying to say, or maybe you couldn’t bother to listen!”
“That’s not true at all,” Mark says, stomach clenching.
“So I finally stand up for myself, and make myself walk away from you, even though it was the hardest thing I could imagine doing. And weeks go by, then months, and you don’t even make a single effort to contact me. To apologize, or say you want me back, or even just say that you miss me. And you know what? I was crushed, sure, I was utterly heartbroken, but I was also relieved. Because after years of questioning how you felt and praying you would show some sign that it wasn’t just me and being a total fucking mess over you, at least now I knew once and for all that you didn’t love me, and you never had.”
“That’s not true!” Mark explodes, voice peaking and hands clenched into fists at his side. “Can’t you listen for one second?”
“Can’t you fucking listen?” Eduardo yells back. “For once, actually listen to what I’m saying! You have been jerking me around since I was seventeen, Mark! That’s four years of this bullshit! And after all that, when I’m trying to get over you, you show up here and tell me you love me?! After all that, now you decide to say that? Now you decide you love me?”
“It’s not just now!” Mark shrieks. “I’ve always felt that way! Maybe I didn’t realize it, and I’m sorry, okay, I admit it. I was shitty to you, you’re right. I should’ve done this back then. But I’m doing it now, isn’t that what matters?”
“God, this is exactly what I’m talking about!” Eduardo’s voice has turned hoarse from shouting. “You haven’t changed at all, have you? You’re still so self-centered! You think you can just show up here after all this time and I’ll be so impressed by such a big gesture that I’ll just fall into your arms like always! As if I’ve just been sitting around waiting for you. It never even occurred to you that maybe I wouldn’t want you anymore, that maybe I’ve moved on with my life! All I need is to hear those three words from Mark and it’s back to happy little fuck buddies, right?”
You haven’t changed either, Mark wants to say. You still always have to be the victim. But instead he says, “No, of course I didn’t think that. In fact, I was terrified that this would happen, and that’s the reason it took so long for me to say anything!”
Eduardo glowers, finally silent.
“I mean, Jesus, I’m sorry, okay?” Mark goes on. “I can’t believe how much of an idiot I’ve been, or how terrible I’ve been to you. I don’t know why it took me so long to get with the program. I guess I more issues than I thought. But I do know how I feel about you now, that’s one thing I’m sure of. And that I want to be together, for real.”
Eduardo makes a noise in the back of his throat, like a scoff, but softer, and looks away from Mark. It could be a trick of the light, but his eyes look wet.
“I can’t-do you remember what you said before? That you’d never felt this way about anyone else? Well, it’s true for me too. Except it’s worse, because I won’t ever, not now, not in the future. You’re it.”
“Mark,” Eduardo says, and his voice cracks. “I can’t.”
All the air goes out of Mark’s lungs.
“So-what?” he whispers. “You’re just gonna let it go, after all that? It’s over for good?”
Eduardo swallows hard. “Yes,” he says lowly, refusing to meet Mark’s gaze.
“Just answer me one question,” Mark says, struggling to speak over the lump in his throat. “Do you still love me?”
“I-” Eduardo’s glance catches Mark for an instant, and then he tears his eyes away, towards the door. “I have to go back to the party. I’m sorry, Mark.” He turns his back to Mark opens the door with a shaking hand. By the time Mark has processed what has happened, the door is shut again and Eduardo’s gone.
Well. That’s it. It’s over.
Mark’s in a hotel room, lying with his head at the foot of the bed, staring at the ceiling.
He had rented the hotel right after booking his flight, in a (deluded, he now sees) spurt of optimism, convinced he and Eduardo would need a place to spend all night having passionate sex. It’s a good thing, too, because if he didn’t have somewhere to crash he might have just crumpled into a pile in the hallway outside of Eduardo’s suite.
He doesn’t think it’s too much of an exaggeration to say his heart has lost its will to keep beating. Mark can’t help but think he wouldn’t really mind if it would just give up. Put him out of his misery.
Erica was wrong. All those romantic comedies lied. He tried the big gesture and it didn’t work. He did it all right-the surprise entrance, the heartfelt confession-and he still didn’t get the guy.
He put himself on the line, and got his heart broken. Again.
He wonders what’ll become of him. Maybe he’ll die young of a broken heart. No, knowing his luck, he’ll live to a depressed and miserable old age. And then die alone, naturally. Maybe he’ll become the male equivalent of a cat lady. Except even cats hate him, so that could never work. Maybe he’ll get robot cats. That would probably fit his image. Maybe he’ll have engineers build him a robot-run house, so he never has to have any human interaction. He’ll become something of a legend, and people will say, “He had such a promising beginning but he turned into a total recluse! It sure is sad!” Maybe some people will think it’s romantically tragic. More likely, they’ll think it’s pathetic.
Meanwhile, he’s definitely going to have to put major stock in Ben & Jerry’s and get them to ship him a lifetime supply of Phish Food. Who cares if he gets fat? It’s not like he has any reason to maintain his appearance. He won’t be having sex anytime in the near, or far, future. Celibate for life. Naturally, to add to the pathetic image.
And what will Eduardo think when he hears about all this? Will he be embarrassed that he was ever involved with Mark? Will he be glad he dodged that bullet? He’ll probably be married to some Scandinavian model genius with a bunch of beautiful children. Or maybe some blond lacrosse-playing communications major with glorious abs and a great fashion sense. Or maybe-
Someone knocks on the door.
Mark sort of wants to yell at whoever it is for interrupting his emotional breakdown. “Go away,” he calls out weakly.
“Mark,” says Eduardo from the other side of the door.
Mark sort of roll-stumbles out of bed and goes to the door. He opens it. Eduardo’s eyes are bloodshot and his hair is wild, as if he’s been running his hands through it repetitively. Mark knows he probably looks even worse. His face is blotchy and he took off his pants at some point.
He wants to tell Eduardo to fuck off. Doesn’t Eduardo know that it’s common courtesy for the heartbreaker to leave the heartbreakee alone to stew in his misery, instead of showing up at his hotel room to gloat?
Instead he says, “How’d you know where I was staying?”
Eduardo shrugs. “Lucky guess. What-what were you doing?”
“Just now? I was contemplating how to obtain large amounts of alcohol without having to move,” Mark says honestly.
“Aren’t you still underage by like two weeks?” Eduardo says.
See. Pathetic. Already living up to the image.
“Yeah,” Mark says glumly. “It’s kind of an obstacle.”
“Mark,” Eduardo says, coming into the room and closing the door behind him. “Jesus.”
“Is the party over?” Mark says.
Eduardo drops himself onto the armchair and puts his head in his hands. “I don’t know, I left,” he says weakly. When he looks up at Mark, his face is tracked with tears.
“Hey, it’s nothing to cry about,” Mark says, which is stupid because he’s obviously been crying all night.
“The answer to your question is yes,” Eduardo says.
“What question?” Mark asks, not daring to hope.
“You know what question,” Eduardo says. Mark does, but that doesn’t explain how wretched Eduardo sounds.
“Oh,” is all Mark can think to say.
“You kind of tend to ruin my life,” Eduardo says.
“Sorry,” Mark says miserably. “That’s just what I do. I’m a life ruiner.”
“I just don’t get it,” Eduardo says.
“What?”
“You said that you’ll never feel the same way about anyone else, right? That I’m it?”
“That is correct,” Mark says.
“Yeah, but-how could you say something like that?”
“Just stating a fact,” Mark says.
“No, but-exactly! You yourself would say-that can’t be a fact. Remember--any claim about the future is only based on things that no one can know for sure. You said that.”
Mark sighs. “I suppose. I guess it can’t be a certainty. But I could make an estimate based on my current knowledge, and the probability is so low that I’m just rounding down to zero.
Eduardo stares at him for a long moment, dark eyes glinting. “You’re so-” he tries. He gets up from the chair and walks over to where Mark is sitting on the bed. He tilts his head and gently, cautiously, puts two fingers on the side of Mark’s jaw. He tips Mark’s head up slightly. Mark closes his eyes and holds his breath, searching for a way to elongate the moment.
“Shit,” he hears Eduardo murmur, and feels a puff of warm breath on his mouth.
Eduardo presses their mouths together, fleeting, barely a kiss, just a brush of their lips. When he pulls away, Mark finally exhales, dizzy from lack of oxygen and the way his heart has lost all ability to choose a pace. He opens his eyes a minute later and Eduardo is looking down at him with an unreadable expression, eyes bright.
“So…does this mean you’ve changed your mind?” Mark says finally, although he’d really rather just hold on to the moment and not speak at all, since that never goes right.
“I-” Eduardo seems to be struggling to speak. He tries again. “It can’t be any more lying or hiding it, okay? It has to be public.”
“I’ll do another press release,” Mark says.
Eduardo rolls his eyes. “I’m serious, Mark,” he says.
“So am I,” says Mark. Eduardo cracks a smile, and it’s unbelievable the effect that slight change in facial expression can have on Mark’s nervous system. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” he says.
“Well, okay, good,” Eduardo says, flustered by this last statement. “And also-no more of this on-again off-again. I can’t take it. It has to be permanently on-again.”
“Permanently on-again sounds fucking perfect,” Mark says seriously, and if he thought the first smile was bad, the blinding grin that Eduardo breaks into now-it’s actually too much to look at, too lovely, and Mark has no choice but to drag Eduardo into another kiss. A real one this time.
---
You know how sometimes, when you really miss something, you build it up in your head so much that when you finally get it, it’s inevitably a letdown?
Well, kissing Eduardo is not like that.
It’s just as good as Mark remembers. No, better. Way better.
They’ve been making out for a good twenty minutes and neither has pulled away for air once, too desperate for sweet contact. Eduardo is all spread out on the bed, limbs splayed everywhere, with Mark on top of him. Mark has one hand climbing up Eduardo’s shirt and a leg pushing between his thighs, and it’s so much better than he remembers.
Eduardo keeps breaking out into these little laughs against Mark’s mouth, and as Mark focuses his attention to kissing Eduardo’s neck, he does it again, that delighted, slightly incredulous little noise. Mark huffs. “I’m glad this is humorous to you,” he grumbles.
Eduardo does it again, that little giggle that he seems unable to control. “I just can’t believe this is finally happening,” he murmurs. “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamt about this in the past year.”
Mark thinks he knows what Eduardo means. He has to keep repeating to himself, this is happening, it’s real, it’s not a dream. “I might have some idea,” he says, smiling. “And why are you wearing more clothes than me? That’s not fair.”
Eduardo laughs again and pulls off his shirt. “Better?” he says, then he returns to kissing Mark and rolls them over so he’s on top. “Mm, I like this big bed,” he says as he tugs off Mark’s t-shirt.
“I think this is the first time we’ve-ah-done this on a bed that wasn't a twin,” Mark says, gasping when Eduardo cups him through his boxers.
“All grown up,” Eduardo teases, and Mark shuts him up by unbuttoning and unzipping his fly.
Eventually, they get rid of all their clothes, scattering them everywhere, except for one wool sock on Eduardo’s left foot, which is curling against Mark’s calf. It’s just the two of them on the big bed, nothing between them, pressing themselves against each other and making out like they have all the time in the world, rutting against each other somewhat absentmindedly. It’s all so familiar in the sweetest, most perfect way: their quickening heartbeats seeming to echo each other through their chests, the feel of the tiny hairs at the back of Eduardo’s neck under Mark’s fingers, his hair slightly stiff and sticky from mousse, his soft gasps and half-words in Mark’s ear and his fingertips leaving trails of warmth against Mark’s stomach. And the warm, tight, achy feeling in Mark’s chest, that’s familiar too, but for the first time, Mark can put a name to it.
“Wardo.” He whispers, “I have a condom.”
Eduardo freezes. He pulls back slightly and looks at Mark with big eyes. “Oh?” he says in a kind of choked voice.
“Yeah, uh, in my wallet,” Mark mumbles, face burning. “In case you were interested.”
(The truth is, the condom’s been there for a good six months at least, since Sean forced Mark to take it, ignoring his protests that he wasn’t going to need it.)
“Uh,” Eduardo says. “Are you saying…do you want to…”
“I don’t know!” Mark says, blushing harder. “Do you want to?”
“I don’t know either!” Eduardo bursts out. “I mean, I’ve never…done that.”
“You haven’t?” Mark asks, startled.
“No, of course not,” Eduardo mumbles, looking away determinedly.
“I kind of thought…” Mark trails off, although it’s not really something he wants to think about, ever.
“I lied, okay?” Eduardo blurts out.
“What?”
Eduardo flops down on the pillow next to Mark and throws his arm over his face dramatically. “I just said that to make you jealous. I know it was juvenile, but I just wanted some reaction out of you, and when you made that accusation, I just…went along with it,” he says, voice muffled. “I’m sorry, it was stupid.”
“Wow,” Mark says. He thinks he should maybe be upset about this but instead he feels like it’s the best news he heard in quite a while. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Eduardo says. He moves his arm and rolls over to face Mark. “You’re the only guy I’ve slept with since…well, since I met you.”
“Oh,” Mark says, and he does a pretty bad job of keeping how thrilled this information makes him out of his voice. “Well, same here. Obviously.”
“Well…I’m glad,” Eduardo says happily, which is stupid because it’s not like he didn’t know that already. “So…do you want to?”
“I…” Mark’s stomach is twisting nervously. He’s tempted to say, forget it, I was just kidding, but the truth is, he wants this, and if he really has grown up, then it’s about time to go after the things he wants.
“Yes,” he says. “I mean, if you want to.” He’s still nervous, but he’s firm.
“Okay. Okay,” says Eduardo, nodding. “Um, yes, okay, yes. I mean, I can’t-I can’t guarantee that it’ll be any good-”
“It will be,” Mark says, although to be honest, he’s just as nervous.
“Okay, okay, um,” Eduardo says. “Yes, so, I’ll just get-um-well-do you have any-?”
“Any what?” Mark asks.
“Any, uh, you know, lubricant,” Eduardo says, voice cracking on the word. Mark wonders briefly how it can be possible for someone to be so adorable and so attractive at the same time.
“Um,” he says. “I think there might be one of those complementary bottles of lotion in the bathroom?”
“Okay, okay,” Eduardo says again, nodding determinedly and rolling off the bed. Mark lies back and tries to slow his breath, thinking oh shit, this is actually about to happen.
When Eduardo gets back to the bed with the lotion and condom Mark pulls him down to kiss very thoroughly. When they pull apart they’re both breathing very hard, and Eduardo keeps murmuring “okay, okay,” and then he’s getting lotion all over the bedspread and his fingers are reaching back between Mark’s legs. And, okay, they’ve done this before, this is fine, Mark likes this, oh wow he forgot how much he likes this, oh God, there’s that spot, fuck.
“Mark, do you want me to…?” Eduardo is whispering in his ear and Mark is nodding, this is happening, this is happening. When Eduardo pushes in Mark is overcome by sensation, and it doesn’t even hurt, it feels just right, like they were made to do this. Eduardo’s gasping and trembling and squeezing his eyes shut like he’s trying very hard to control himself, and he’s got his fingers twisted tightly in Mark’s hair and his stomach shifting slightly against Mark’s cock in the most unbelievable way. Then Mark crooks his legs up around Eduardo’s waist and Eduardo makes this choked noise and starts to rock his hips and holy shit, this might be the best idea Mark’s ever had, and there’s a hot flame spreading through his belly. He gasps Eduardo’s name and arches his back so they’re pressed together along the whole line of their bodies, pressing his hands between Eduardo’s shoulder blades. At that Eduardo gasps out, “Ah, shit, Mark, I can’t-I’m gonna-ah -” Mark tightens his legs around Eduardo’s waist and Eduardo pushes in harder and then he’s tensing up and moaning, mostly incoherent, the only words Mark can catch are “Mark” and “love,” and it could be a mantra or a question or a reminder. Then Eduardo is pushing a hand between their bodies and the fire in Mark’s belly is blooming into his whole body and he’s coming, his fingertips flexing and skating down the dip of Eduardo’s back, and all he can say is Eduardo’s name and all he can think is yes, yes and that this must be what it feels like to finally get everything you’ve been wanting, all at once.
---
When he wakes up, he’s smiling, which is just so sappy and embarrassing. He feels more well-rested than he has in a long time, and sure enough, the sun is streaming bright through the hotel window, and according to the clock on the nightstand he slept for a good eleven hours. Well, it makes sense, he thinks-they sure wore each other out last night. The thought makes him smile again.
Then he realizes that he’s alone in the bed, and he has a miniature heart attack.
Oh fuck he left he changed his mind he decided he doesn’t want to get back together he just wanted a one-night stand or oh fuck maybe I was terrible in bed, I mean he didn’t seem to think so at the time but maybe-
Luckily, before he can get too carried away he finds the note on the pillow next to him. He immediately grins (again, damn it) when he recognizes Eduardo’s loopy handwriting on the hotel notepad.
Mark-
I just ran out to get us some breakfast. I would’ve woken you, but I decided to let you have your beauty sleep. (Not that you need it. ;) ) I’ll be back soon. Don’t go anywhere!
Love,
Wardo
P.S. Last night was incredible. You are incredible.
Mark has to roll his eyes at this, because it’s just so over-the-top and sappy and typical Eduardo. He almost wouldn’t be surprised if Eduardo had turned the O in “Wardo” into a heart.
The eyeroll probably would’ve been more convincing if Mark didn’t also have a stupid lovesick grin on his face.
He gets out bed. He finds his shirt under the bed and his boxers flung on the chair (wow, how did that happen? That’s kind of impressive) and pulls them on, yawning and scratching his head. It sure seems like mornings are a lot more tolerable when you’ve been making love all night.
And oh, shit, when did he become the kind of person who uses terms like making love? This is serious. If he keeps up with this behavior, the stupid grins and thinking things like that, he might be in serious danger of losing his rep as a (lovably) cynical misanthrope. Jeez, he needs to be careful.
He goes to the desk and opens his laptop. He’s hasn’t checked the site since the plane ride, which is much longer than he normally goes, but before he does anything with business matters he has to make a change to his profile page. You technically need the other person to agree to it, but Mark has a feeling that won’t be a problem and he easily overrides that script. When he sees it up there on his screen he has to bite his lip hard to keep another grin from coming on.
A few minutes later, the door opens and Eduardo comes in carrying two bags, one from Dunkin Donuts and one from CVS, and a tray of coffees. It looks like he tried to fix his hair, but with no product, there’s only so much he could do, and it’s sort of sticking up everywhere, an inevitable (and adorable) combination of sex hair and bedhead. His shirt is wrinkled too and there are hickeys on his neck and he just looks generally rumpled, and also undeniably cheerful-glowing, even.
Mark decides then and there that it is his new life goal to make Eduardo look like that as much and as often as humanly possible. A worthy aspiration, for sure.
“Hi,” Eduardo says, smiling a little shyly, which is just too cute for Mark to handle. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” Mark says, to stop himself from saying something embarrassing. It is true, though-he didn’t eat anything yesterday other than airplane pretzels, being too nervous, then too depressed, then too turned-on, to think about eating. He gets up to take the coffee from Eduardo and inspect the contents of the Dunkin’s bag.
“Shitload of extra cream and sugar, right?” Eduardo says. “And I hope you still like the coffee rolls, because I remember you always used to get them, but I wasn’t sure…”
Mark grabs the donut and tears off a big hunk which he shoves in his mouth. He makes a faux-offended face at Eduardo and says through a full mouth, “Of course I still like it. Who do you think I am?”
Eduardo laughs at this and takes a sip from his coffee (black, of course). “Well, I heard a rumor you were on some kind of health kick.”
“Don’t trust everything you hear, Wardo,” Mark says wisely. Eduardo beams and stares at him.
“What?” Mark says after swallowing.
“I just can’t believe you sometimes,” Eduardo says. It’s not in the spiteful way he might’ve said it when he was yelling before-no, it’s sweet and bubbling with affection.
“Oh. Well. Thanks,” Mark says. And shit, at this point the grinning is definitely a lost cause, so fuck it anyway. “What’s in there?” He points to the CVS bag.
“Oh,” says Eduardo, blushing. “I jus got us some, uh, supplies.” Mark peers into the bag and finds a box of condoms and a bottle of lube.
“Hm, someone’s presumptuous,” he teases.
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Eduardo blurts out apologetically.
“Wardo. I’m kidding. We will definitely use this,” Mark says.
“Oh. Well. Good.” Eduardo says. Then he looks at Mark’s mouth and smirks.
“You’ve got a little glazed sugar…” he says and then leans forward and licks the side of Mark’s mouth. Mark giggles and squirms and lets Eduardo push him onto the bed. His mouth tastes like coffee and blueberry muffin.
“Wardo,” Mark says as Eduardo moves to kiss under his ear. “I wanted to talk about something.”
“Later,” Eduardo hums.
“No, it’s-important,” Mark says, trying to ignore the way Eduardo is now licking his jaw.
“More important than morning sex?” Eduardo mumbles.
“I-yeah. Just-you’re graduating a semester early, right? That’s what Chris said.”
“That’s the plan, as long as I can keep my GPA up,” Eduardo says, moving on to the other side of Mark’s neck. “I think your dirty talk needs work.”
“So you’ll be done with school in December?” Mark says. “What are your plans after that?”
Eduardo sighs heavily and pulls back. “Fine, I guess we’re talking about this now. I haven’t really thought about it, to be honest.”
“Well, if you’re looking for grad school, I hear Stanford has a great MBA program,” Mark says conversationally.
“Is that so?” Eduardo says.
“That’s what I hear,” Mark says. “I’m sure you could get in. And I think it would do you good to get off the East Coast.”
“Oh yeah?” Eduardo says, amused.
“Definitely,” Mark adds. “Or if you’re looking for work, I can think of a certain well-paying company in dire need of a financial advisor. I could set you up. The boss is really cool, too. He’d like you.”
“Hm, I bet,” says Eduardo. He’s arching and eyebrow and biting his lip.
“And you know,” Mark goes on, still maintaining the forced casual tone. “If you’re looking for somewhere to live, my house has a lot of empty rooms. I could use another tenant. Just a thought.”
“Mark,” Eduardo says, flat-out grinning, “are you asking me to move in with you?”
“It’s just something to think about,” Mark says primly.
Eduardo sighs. “Okay, fine,” he says.
“Okay, fine, you’ll think about it?”
“Okay, fine, I’ll move in with you,” Eduardo says, and Mark has to forcibly restrain himself from doing a victory fistpump. “But it’s only to shut you up.” And he goes back to kissing Mark.
“I can live with that,” Mark says happily and rolls them over in the bed.
On the desk, his laptop sits, completely forgotten, for once, open to his profile page, which is racking up more and more notifications by the minute.
--
Mark Zuckerberg is in a relationship with Eduardo Saverin.
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See all 17 comments.
Dustin Moscovitz !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 4 hours ago
Chris Hughes Wow. I am shocked. Who could’ve possibly predicted this development? 4 hours ago
Dustin Moscovitz I AM SRSLY HYPERVENTILATING RITE NOW 4 hours ago
Chris Hughes Just kidding. That’s great, you guys. 4 hours ago
Dustin Moscovitz OMFG IM SO HAPPYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!! YOU GUYS FINALLY MADE UP AND TRUE LOVE DOES EXIST!!!!!!1! I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW!!!! AWWWW ITS SO CUTE I CANT HANDLE IT!!1! CALL ME RITE AWAY MARK I WANT THE DEETS (BUT NOT TOO MANY EW LOL) :DDDD 3 hours ago
Chris Hughes Really, Dustin? 3 hours ago
Arielle Zuckerberg OMG I TOTES CALLED IT!!!! Haahahahahahahahhahahaaaa Markkkkk About an hour ago
Erica Albright Damn. Looks like someone finally took my advice. It’s about damn time. Congrats. :) 26 minutes ago
Eduardo Saverin :) :) :) :) 3 minutes ago
---
Epilogue: June 2006
It’s a modest wedding, nothing too over-the-top, just the extended families of the couple and some friends. They have it by a lake, and the weather is perfect, the summer sun glinting off the water.
The bride looks gorgeous in a simple dress, her dark hair twisted into a style that is reminiscent of how she wore it at her senior prom. She looks a lot happier than the last time Mark saw her, understandably. All throughout the ceremony, she and the groom-a thin, freckly blond man-wear matching besotted grins that Mark is particularly familiar with.
The wedding guests are all touched by the beautiful wedding, many of them crying. Mark is mostly unmoved and definitely does not cry during the vows, and anyone who says otherwise is flat-out lying.
Mark actually dresses up, but only because he wants to go incognito and he doubts anyone will recognize him this way. (And, okay, it’s possible that he wanted an excuse to borrow Eduardo’s clothes. But whatever.)
Consequently, Erica doesn’t notice his presence until the reception, after all the speeches have been made and the cake has been cut. Mark is drinking champagne (still gross) and checking his phone for texts from Eduardo when she sees him.
“Mark!” she exclaims, and hugs him. “You came!”
“Well, yeah,” he says. “Did you not get my RSVP?”
“No, we did, I just wasn’t really sure if you would come,” she says, and then quickly adds, “I mean, not that you-it’s just that a lot of people who say they’ll come end up bailing.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Mark says, smiling. “Congratulations.”
Erica beams. “Oh, Mark, thanks. I’m just…I’m so happy.”
“I can tell,” says Mark. Just then, the music changes to a slow song. Erica’s eyes light up.
“No way,” Mark says immediately. “Go dance with your husband.”
“He’s dancing with his aunt,” she says, grabbing Mark’s hand. “Come on, let’s dance. For old time’s sake.”
“Why must you torture me?” Mark says, but allows himself to be pulled onto the dance floor. It is her wedding day, after all. “Won’t he mind? I mean, I am your ex.”
“Nah, he’s not the jealous type,” Erica says, putting her arms around Mark’s shoulders. “And besides, he knows you’re like one hundred percent gay now.”
Mark snorts. “Yeah, him and the rest of the country,” he grumbles. Erica laughs.
“Speaking of,” she says, “No plus one? I’m surprised.”
“He really had to work,” Mark says. “He’s trying to save up his vacation days so we can take a trip to Brazil in September.”
This is technically true. It’s also true that Mark didn’t exactly invite Eduardo. Eduardo is the jealous type, and there are some levels of awkward that Mark is not willing to subject himself to.
“I thought you two couldn’t handle twelve hours away from each other,” Erica says teasingly.
Mark shrugs. “I will neither confirm nor deny that statement.” This makes Erica laugh delightedly. “Wow, Mark, the rumors are true. You’ve turned into a total romantic.”
“See, that’s the problem with being a public figure,” Mark says. “People will spread all kinds of libelous lies about you.”
“You totally are,” she says. “And you know what else?”
Mark groans. “Here we go.”
“You’re a good person,” she says in a faux-accusatory tone.
“Oh, come on. That’s not fair,” he says.
“You came to my wedding, didn’t you?”
“You’re the one who invited me!” he exclaims. “If anyone can be accused of being a good person here, it’s you.”
“Nah, I don’t buy it,” she says. “The cat’s out of the bag. Mark Zuckerberg is a big softie.”
Mark rolls his eyes, muttering “such abuse.” The song ends and they walk back to his table.
“So,” he says. “Freshly graduated college, newlywed…life is pretty good, huh?”
“Sure is,” Erica says, beaming. “And what about you, Mr. CEO? Things aren’t looking too bad for you either, are they? Billionaire, domestic bliss with your Latin loverboy…how does it feel?”
Mark thinks about waking up this morning to catch his flight. Eduardo was dead to the world, snoring lightly with one arm thrown over his face and his shirt rucked up, exposing his belly, the early-morning sunlight creeping in and playing over his tousled hair. He’d left Mark gum for the plane and a note requesting that he call as soon as he landed.
Mark grins. “It feels pretty fucking great,” he says.
---
end