fic: And it's peaceful in the deep
Title: And it's peaceful in the deep
Fandom: The Social Network
Pairing: Mark/Eduardo
Summary: Boarding School AU. Mark and Eduardo get stuck in a closet.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: First time D/s where no one has an idea what's happening. Porn, written by me. I think that covers it.
Notes: If you told me a week ago that I'd be posting this I'd have laughed in your face. I blame maybepanda. All the thanks and deep, deep gratitude to my beta, nowadventuring. And lastly, the title comes from this song which I've now forever ruined for you. You are welcome.
This is not a how-to guide, neither to BDSM nor sex in general. I have no idea what I'm doing.
Mark knew right from the beginning that this was a shitty idea. Eduardo had said, “Sneak out with me tonight,” and hadn't taken no for an answer, in that way he sometimes does. And it isn't like Mark is opposed to sneaking out on principle: it's just that it's so impractical. Mark's dorm is pretty much abandoned. His RA is out tonight, and even if he weren't, he's never much cared about people sneaking in and out. All Eduardo would have had to do was sneak over to Mark’s dorm. Piece of cake. But no. No, Eduardo wanted to go outside, for some insane reason. It wasn't like sex under the stars was intrinsically better than sex on a squeaky single, especially if you did it on the ground without a blanket and potentially got grass and sand and bugs in inconvenient places.
But Eduardo had insisted, so it's sex outside or no sex at all tonight, and you can say what you want about Mark, but he has his priorities in order. Which are the same as the priorities of every other sixteen-year-old boy.
So that's why Mark is sneaking down the grand stairs to the front hall at two in the morning, heart beating so loudly he's sure the night watch must be able to hear from wherever they currently are. Which can't be far, anyway. The back parts of the school are basically deserted at this hour, which means they could potentially do whatever on the south tower, but the entrance is tightly guarded because students are not supposed to be on the grounds at night. Obviously.
That, of course, is exactly where Eduardo wants to be. For some reason. Mark gave up trying to understand after the third exasperated text message he'd received around eleven pm.
Mark edges along the wall for as long as he can. The front door is directly ahead of him now. All he has to do is sprint toward it, push it open, and slip outside. But this is where Eduardo was supposed to meet him, and he's nowhere in sight.
Just as he's about to venture into the open space (waiting outside for Eduardo is definitely safer than waiting in the front hall where he could be caught at any moment), the skylight switches on, temporarily blinding him.
He knows the light switch is right around the corner, which gives him roughly thirty seconds to make his escape. He pushes himself from the wall and runs as fast as he can away from the advancing night watch and into an adjacent hallway.
Once there, he realizes that he's run straight into a dead end. The night watch will cross the front hall any second now, and of course they're going to at least look at the brightly lit space, the space Mark is currently occupying.
Mark hardly has a clean record, nor does he care overly much about his reputation, but being caught out of bed will lead to questions Mark won't be willing to answer. The boarding school administration frowns upon sexual relations between the students, and while Mark isn't sure what will happen if they get discovered, he is pretty sure he won't like it.
He can hear their voices now, coming steadily closer, and he presses his back against the wall and closes his eyes in a desperate attempt to become invisible.
Suddenly, someone grabs his left arm. It's the opposite direction from where he expected anyone to come, and it catches him completely off-guard, so he's easily pulled backwards into what is apparently a broom closet.
There's a hand covering his mouth, and the only reason he doesn't bite it is that he can smell Eduardo, and he knows he's safe.
“Shhhh. Don't scream,” Eduardo says as he lets go of Mark. One of his hands is still wrapped around Mark's right wrist, though. Mark holds it utterly still so Eduardo won't notice and let go. “Don't scream,” he repeats.
I'm not stupid, Mark wants to say, but Eduardo squeezes his wrist the moment he opens his mouth, and Mark's breath leaves him in a sigh. Huh.
He wants to ask if Wardo has spider-senses, because he can see absolutely nothing in the dark, but speaking is still kind of impossible. So he swallows and tries to will his eyes into adjusting, concentrating really hard on things that are not Eduardo. It's surprisingly difficult. Mark prides himself on being a multitasker, though, and a little proximity and hormones are not going to ruin that. No way.
So he concentrates. The voices of the night watch sound further away now, but the hallway outside is still brightly lit, as one look through the keyhole confirms. Until it automatically switches off again, they'd better stay put.
Eduardo finally lets go of his wrist, which Mark takes as permission to speak. So he does, albeit in a whisper.
“So, this plan gloriously backfired,” he says, rubbing his wrist regretfully. He kind of misses the pressure of Eduardo’s hand. It’s a weird, tingly sensation.
Eduardo rolls his eyes. “We're here, are we not? You wanted to meet up, and we did.”
“I wanted to meet you in my dorm. I told you, Parker never checks if we're in bed. I bet he's out getting drunk half the time he's supposed to be on watch. You wanted to look at the stars or some shit,” Mark shoots back in a hiss.
“Forgive me for trying to be romantic. But I think this works too.”
Mark has to agree that it does. They're together and alone, and he's never much cared where he got off. A closet will do, if he can ignore the pathetic irony of the situation.
His eyes seem to finally have adjusted, and he can see the outline of Eduardo in the dark, his face mostly in shadow. Still, he knows Eduardo is grinning. “You're right,” he says and takes a step toward him, hands coming up to tangle in Eduardo's ridiculous hair on reflex. But Eduardo catches them easily and presses them down to his sides, grabbing and turning Mark until he's crowded against the wall, breathless and dizzy as Eduardo finally leans down to kiss him. The kiss itself is very soft, undemanding, but the grip on Mark's wrists is still tight, and Mark can't move, can't react, can't do anything but let himself be kissed by Eduardo, slowly and thoroughly while Mark breathes and feels.
His eyes are closed, something he only notices when Eduardo stops kissing him, releasing his wrists to take hold of his shoulders. Mark whimpers, opening his eyes slowly and looking up, trying to figure out what Eduardo wants from him.
What he wants from him. That's confusing for all of a second, but then Eduardo's hands tighten on his shoulders-not much, but enough to bring Mark's attention back to him. Mark's eyes find Eduardo's, and then Eduardo presses down, just briefly, and Mark goes to his knees without breaking eye contact.
He opens Eduardo's pants. Eduardo's hands are in his hair now, threading through it gently, and Mark's entire body is tingling, goosebumps all along his spine. He's never felt so alive, so electrified and perfect.
He pulls Eduardo's boxers down, nuzzling at his cock, breathing in, eyes closed. Everything seems far away somehow, like it's not really happening, sloppy but perfect. He's drooling a little as he makes his way down the shaft, licking the head before he takes it in his mouth and sucks and shifts and pushes until he has it all down. He dimly wonders where his gag reflex went. He's done this before, but it's never been like this, held together by Eduardo's hands on him, one in his hair and the other trailing down his back to rub. It shouldn't feel this good, but it does. Mark can barely remember how he got here, but he's on his knees in a closet in front of Eduardo, his mouth stuffed with his cock, tears trailing down his cheeks from the exertion. And it feels amazing, his jaw and his knees aching, his lips stretched wide, his body humming under Eduardo's hands.
He couldn't say how long he kneels there, everything's a blur, but eventually Eduardo cups his jaw and tilts his head up. Mark's eyes flutter open-he hadn't realized he closed them again-and their eyes meet. Eduardo looks wrecked, pupils blown, sweating and panting, and Mark did that.
He says something then, tugs Mark's hair to make him pay attention, and Mark focuses. It takes a lot of effort. “I'm going to come now,” Eduardo repeats, “and you're going to swallow.” It's phrased as an order, but Mark hears the question it really is, reads the uncertainty on Eduardo's face and the quiver in his voice. He swallows once in answer, and Eduardo curses, low and in Portuguese--or maybe Mark's brain is incapable of deciphering English at this point. That's a possibility too.
And then Mark's back is against the wall, and Eduardo is holding his head with both hands and pushing his cock into Mark as he comes, and Mark can do nothing but swallow, so he does. But it spills over his lips anyway, trailing down his jaw as Eduardo pumps into him, once, twice, three times. He feels so full, overfull with Eduardo, and it's perfect.
Eduardo pulls out with a wet sound. Mark's mouth feels used and raw and worn, and there's come and spit all over his face. He just stays kneeling, knees aching, because he's not able to move yet. He's not sure he ever will be again.
But then Eduardo pulls him up. He's holding Mark up because he can barely stand on his own, sandwiching him between his body and the wall. Eduardo's leg is between his own, pressing.
He moans weakly, resting his head on Eduardo's shoulder, but Eduardo takes his head in both of his hands again, holding it in place as he kisses him hard, supporting every part of Mark now.
Mark whimpers as Eduardo releases his mouth to kiss his neck. Then he bites down, and Mark muffles his scream into Eduardo’s shoulder as he comes, almost untouched but completely wonderful.
He sags back against the wall, knees buckling. Eduardo presses up against him and wraps his arms around Mark, holding him close as he shivers.
Slowly, Mark comes down from his high. He starts registering noise again, the sounds of the heating system in the hallways and the chirps of birds filtering in through a nearby window. The sun must be rising soon.
He brings one hand up to wipe at his eyes. They've stopped tearing now. He swallows thickly. His voice just barely shakes as he asks, “What the hell was that?”
Eduardo moves back slightly from where he'd been nuzzling at Mark's ear. Far enough to look Mark in the eyes, concerned.
“Was it... okay?” he asks, eyes huge.
“It was amazing,” Mark answers honestly. ”I just don't... understand it at all.”
Eduardo smiles slowly, then kisses Mark's head. Usually Mark would take issue with that, but right now, he really can't bring himself to mind.
“I'm not sure either. But... you liked it? Are you sure?” Eduardo sounds so worried that Mark can't help but smile. He tilts his head up, presses a soft, chaste kiss to Eduardo's lips, and nods.
“I'm sure. We should maybe... do that again. Certainly. Not maybe.” He smiles at Eduardo, and Eduardo smiles brightly back at him.
“Okay. But first... I guess we'll need to get you back to bed. Can you walk?”
“If you let me go, I'll try,” Mark says.
Eduardo moves back a bit, and Mark stands on wobbly knees. “Okay?” Eduardo asks.
“Okay.” A few steps and Mark feels more secure. Eduardo's hand is hovering just over the small of his back. He's pretty sure that if he were to fall, Eduardo would catch him.
Crossposted from Dreamwidth
Fandom: The Social Network
Pairing: Mark/Eduardo
Summary: Boarding School AU. Mark and Eduardo get stuck in a closet.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: First time D/s where no one has an idea what's happening. Porn, written by me. I think that covers it.
Notes: If you told me a week ago that I'd be posting this I'd have laughed in your face. I blame maybepanda. All the thanks and deep, deep gratitude to my beta, nowadventuring. And lastly, the title comes from this song which I've now forever ruined for you. You are welcome.
This is not a how-to guide, neither to BDSM nor sex in general. I have no idea what I'm doing.
Mark knew right from the beginning that this was a shitty idea. Eduardo had said, “Sneak out with me tonight,” and hadn't taken no for an answer, in that way he sometimes does. And it isn't like Mark is opposed to sneaking out on principle: it's just that it's so impractical. Mark's dorm is pretty much abandoned. His RA is out tonight, and even if he weren't, he's never much cared about people sneaking in and out. All Eduardo would have had to do was sneak over to Mark’s dorm. Piece of cake. But no. No, Eduardo wanted to go outside, for some insane reason. It wasn't like sex under the stars was intrinsically better than sex on a squeaky single, especially if you did it on the ground without a blanket and potentially got grass and sand and bugs in inconvenient places.
But Eduardo had insisted, so it's sex outside or no sex at all tonight, and you can say what you want about Mark, but he has his priorities in order. Which are the same as the priorities of every other sixteen-year-old boy.
So that's why Mark is sneaking down the grand stairs to the front hall at two in the morning, heart beating so loudly he's sure the night watch must be able to hear from wherever they currently are. Which can't be far, anyway. The back parts of the school are basically deserted at this hour, which means they could potentially do whatever on the south tower, but the entrance is tightly guarded because students are not supposed to be on the grounds at night. Obviously.
That, of course, is exactly where Eduardo wants to be. For some reason. Mark gave up trying to understand after the third exasperated text message he'd received around eleven pm.
Mark edges along the wall for as long as he can. The front door is directly ahead of him now. All he has to do is sprint toward it, push it open, and slip outside. But this is where Eduardo was supposed to meet him, and he's nowhere in sight.
Just as he's about to venture into the open space (waiting outside for Eduardo is definitely safer than waiting in the front hall where he could be caught at any moment), the skylight switches on, temporarily blinding him.
He knows the light switch is right around the corner, which gives him roughly thirty seconds to make his escape. He pushes himself from the wall and runs as fast as he can away from the advancing night watch and into an adjacent hallway.
Once there, he realizes that he's run straight into a dead end. The night watch will cross the front hall any second now, and of course they're going to at least look at the brightly lit space, the space Mark is currently occupying.
Mark hardly has a clean record, nor does he care overly much about his reputation, but being caught out of bed will lead to questions Mark won't be willing to answer. The boarding school administration frowns upon sexual relations between the students, and while Mark isn't sure what will happen if they get discovered, he is pretty sure he won't like it.
He can hear their voices now, coming steadily closer, and he presses his back against the wall and closes his eyes in a desperate attempt to become invisible.
Suddenly, someone grabs his left arm. It's the opposite direction from where he expected anyone to come, and it catches him completely off-guard, so he's easily pulled backwards into what is apparently a broom closet.
There's a hand covering his mouth, and the only reason he doesn't bite it is that he can smell Eduardo, and he knows he's safe.
“Shhhh. Don't scream,” Eduardo says as he lets go of Mark. One of his hands is still wrapped around Mark's right wrist, though. Mark holds it utterly still so Eduardo won't notice and let go. “Don't scream,” he repeats.
I'm not stupid, Mark wants to say, but Eduardo squeezes his wrist the moment he opens his mouth, and Mark's breath leaves him in a sigh. Huh.
He wants to ask if Wardo has spider-senses, because he can see absolutely nothing in the dark, but speaking is still kind of impossible. So he swallows and tries to will his eyes into adjusting, concentrating really hard on things that are not Eduardo. It's surprisingly difficult. Mark prides himself on being a multitasker, though, and a little proximity and hormones are not going to ruin that. No way.
So he concentrates. The voices of the night watch sound further away now, but the hallway outside is still brightly lit, as one look through the keyhole confirms. Until it automatically switches off again, they'd better stay put.
Eduardo finally lets go of his wrist, which Mark takes as permission to speak. So he does, albeit in a whisper.
“So, this plan gloriously backfired,” he says, rubbing his wrist regretfully. He kind of misses the pressure of Eduardo’s hand. It’s a weird, tingly sensation.
Eduardo rolls his eyes. “We're here, are we not? You wanted to meet up, and we did.”
“I wanted to meet you in my dorm. I told you, Parker never checks if we're in bed. I bet he's out getting drunk half the time he's supposed to be on watch. You wanted to look at the stars or some shit,” Mark shoots back in a hiss.
“Forgive me for trying to be romantic. But I think this works too.”
Mark has to agree that it does. They're together and alone, and he's never much cared where he got off. A closet will do, if he can ignore the pathetic irony of the situation.
His eyes seem to finally have adjusted, and he can see the outline of Eduardo in the dark, his face mostly in shadow. Still, he knows Eduardo is grinning. “You're right,” he says and takes a step toward him, hands coming up to tangle in Eduardo's ridiculous hair on reflex. But Eduardo catches them easily and presses them down to his sides, grabbing and turning Mark until he's crowded against the wall, breathless and dizzy as Eduardo finally leans down to kiss him. The kiss itself is very soft, undemanding, but the grip on Mark's wrists is still tight, and Mark can't move, can't react, can't do anything but let himself be kissed by Eduardo, slowly and thoroughly while Mark breathes and feels.
His eyes are closed, something he only notices when Eduardo stops kissing him, releasing his wrists to take hold of his shoulders. Mark whimpers, opening his eyes slowly and looking up, trying to figure out what Eduardo wants from him.
What he wants from him. That's confusing for all of a second, but then Eduardo's hands tighten on his shoulders-not much, but enough to bring Mark's attention back to him. Mark's eyes find Eduardo's, and then Eduardo presses down, just briefly, and Mark goes to his knees without breaking eye contact.
He opens Eduardo's pants. Eduardo's hands are in his hair now, threading through it gently, and Mark's entire body is tingling, goosebumps all along his spine. He's never felt so alive, so electrified and perfect.
He pulls Eduardo's boxers down, nuzzling at his cock, breathing in, eyes closed. Everything seems far away somehow, like it's not really happening, sloppy but perfect. He's drooling a little as he makes his way down the shaft, licking the head before he takes it in his mouth and sucks and shifts and pushes until he has it all down. He dimly wonders where his gag reflex went. He's done this before, but it's never been like this, held together by Eduardo's hands on him, one in his hair and the other trailing down his back to rub. It shouldn't feel this good, but it does. Mark can barely remember how he got here, but he's on his knees in a closet in front of Eduardo, his mouth stuffed with his cock, tears trailing down his cheeks from the exertion. And it feels amazing, his jaw and his knees aching, his lips stretched wide, his body humming under Eduardo's hands.
He couldn't say how long he kneels there, everything's a blur, but eventually Eduardo cups his jaw and tilts his head up. Mark's eyes flutter open-he hadn't realized he closed them again-and their eyes meet. Eduardo looks wrecked, pupils blown, sweating and panting, and Mark did that.
He says something then, tugs Mark's hair to make him pay attention, and Mark focuses. It takes a lot of effort. “I'm going to come now,” Eduardo repeats, “and you're going to swallow.” It's phrased as an order, but Mark hears the question it really is, reads the uncertainty on Eduardo's face and the quiver in his voice. He swallows once in answer, and Eduardo curses, low and in Portuguese--or maybe Mark's brain is incapable of deciphering English at this point. That's a possibility too.
And then Mark's back is against the wall, and Eduardo is holding his head with both hands and pushing his cock into Mark as he comes, and Mark can do nothing but swallow, so he does. But it spills over his lips anyway, trailing down his jaw as Eduardo pumps into him, once, twice, three times. He feels so full, overfull with Eduardo, and it's perfect.
Eduardo pulls out with a wet sound. Mark's mouth feels used and raw and worn, and there's come and spit all over his face. He just stays kneeling, knees aching, because he's not able to move yet. He's not sure he ever will be again.
But then Eduardo pulls him up. He's holding Mark up because he can barely stand on his own, sandwiching him between his body and the wall. Eduardo's leg is between his own, pressing.
He moans weakly, resting his head on Eduardo's shoulder, but Eduardo takes his head in both of his hands again, holding it in place as he kisses him hard, supporting every part of Mark now.
Mark whimpers as Eduardo releases his mouth to kiss his neck. Then he bites down, and Mark muffles his scream into Eduardo’s shoulder as he comes, almost untouched but completely wonderful.
He sags back against the wall, knees buckling. Eduardo presses up against him and wraps his arms around Mark, holding him close as he shivers.
Slowly, Mark comes down from his high. He starts registering noise again, the sounds of the heating system in the hallways and the chirps of birds filtering in through a nearby window. The sun must be rising soon.
He brings one hand up to wipe at his eyes. They've stopped tearing now. He swallows thickly. His voice just barely shakes as he asks, “What the hell was that?”
Eduardo moves back slightly from where he'd been nuzzling at Mark's ear. Far enough to look Mark in the eyes, concerned.
“Was it... okay?” he asks, eyes huge.
“It was amazing,” Mark answers honestly. ”I just don't... understand it at all.”
Eduardo smiles slowly, then kisses Mark's head. Usually Mark would take issue with that, but right now, he really can't bring himself to mind.
“I'm not sure either. But... you liked it? Are you sure?” Eduardo sounds so worried that Mark can't help but smile. He tilts his head up, presses a soft, chaste kiss to Eduardo's lips, and nods.
“I'm sure. We should maybe... do that again. Certainly. Not maybe.” He smiles at Eduardo, and Eduardo smiles brightly back at him.
“Okay. But first... I guess we'll need to get you back to bed. Can you walk?”
“If you let me go, I'll try,” Mark says.
Eduardo moves back a bit, and Mark stands on wobbly knees. “Okay?” Eduardo asks.
“Okay.” A few steps and Mark feels more secure. Eduardo's hand is hovering just over the small of his back. He's pretty sure that if he were to fall, Eduardo would catch him.
Crossposted from Dreamwidth