fic: i think you're pretty without any make up on (mark/eduardo, prompt 84)
Title: i think you're pretty without any make up on
Recipient: rrrg
Prompt Number: 84
Characters/Pairings: Mark Zuckerberg, Eduardo Saverin, Chris, mentions of Sean and Dustin, Mark/Eduardo
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 for un-graphic sex scene
Word Count: 2,675
Disclaimer: This fanwork is based on fictional representations of the characters in The Social Network; I make no claims of ownership of the characters or concepts.
Summary (or prompt scenario): Mark slowly walked in front of Eduardo, holding on to Eduardo’s elbow as if it was a lifeline, looking up into Eduardo’s eyes. “I think you like it when I compliment you, is that crazy?”
Notes: I suck at porn, so I didn't write anything explict but Eduardo is enjoying all of Mark's attention. I hope this is okay though? If not, I really do apologize for sucking everything up.Translation at the bottom.
i.
It started back at Harvard in the dorm rooms. They would start drinking the beer that Eduardo would buy for them and they would start getting tipsy. Eduardo only bought them beer when he was having a particularly bad day and he wanted to forget with the aid of the people in the Kirkland suite. And Eduardo would just sit there looking so…pretty. Mark could appreciate beauty, really he could. And Eduardo was pretty with his big brown eyes, his long limbs, and his pink lips. So Mark would jokingly ask him to get him “a beer pretty, pretty boy”, his tongue growing looser and looser with the aid of alcohol.
There were other times too, when they weren’t nearly as inebriated. Mark was say that he looked nice if Eduardo asked his advice on an outfit to wear when he went out to dinner with his girlfriends. He’d say he’d looked like a pretty wife sarcastically when Eduardo would pick up a few things in Mark’s room in order to sit down or make it habitable.
Mark hadn’t even been the one to notice what Eduardo did; Chris had, even if he had never said anything. When Mark would call him pretty boy, his posture would straighten, not looking at morose as when he walked in. He would smile and flush, something that Mark had always pushed off on the effects of alcohol. If Mark was sitting next to him, he would lean into Mark, as if Mark was the sun and Eduardo was just a moon (now was when Mark was sure that Chris needed to leave all of his English classes and romanticisms alone).
But this was the bottom line, Chris had explained, looking at Mark as if he was very slow on the uptake (or Dustin).
Eduardo liked to be complimented on his looks.
A lot.
Especially if it was from Mark, because while he brightened up when other people called him nice things, he didn’t look like he did when Mark complimented. Dustin had tried to make Eduardo make the same faces that he did when Mark called him pretty, but instead it was a wane little smile that Dustin took as a sign of failure.
And if Mark was smart, he would take advantage of this gem of information that Chris was imparting on to him and somehow make…something…with Eduardo. This was said with an intense look that was ruined when Chris’ bangs fell into his face, making him looking less intimidating. Mark stared at him for a moment and nodded though, not agreeing or disagreeing that he would use this.
It was an improbable thing anyway; he little to never saw Eduardo. They saw each other in board meetings, but never on a consistent schedule. Eduardo sometimes showed up to a charity gala (usually ones having to do with profiting South American children or helping the penguins),
But he tucked it away anyway.
ii.
Ironically enough, the weekend after he had that conversation with Chris, he ran into Eduardo literally. It wasn't at one of the high-flying society functions that they usually stiffly nodded heads at or a board meeting where Mark could watch Eduardo's general mood drop as they talked about stock shares and advertisers, things that Eduardo had tried to talk to Mark about but Mark had ignored. No, they met at a coffee shop, Eduardo ordering something strong with plenty of shots of espresso (just how he liked it, remembered from early morning coffee runs after nights of cramming for exams together) while Mark ordered a latte that he was unable to get at the Facebook office, fancy catering or not.
Eduardo let out an expletive as the coffee seeped through his white shirt, while Mark apologized. Not profusely but a few times over.
"It's fine," Eduardo gritted out through a tightly clenched jaw as he tried to dab away the stain of coffee. Mark watched him before reaching for napkins and helping him, dabbing at the stain along with Eduardo. Eduardo glared at him, then down at Mark's hand before shoving it away.
"Stop it Mark, you're rubbing which-," Eduardo started.
"-which rubs it in as opposed to dabbing," Mark finished for Eduardo, "I remember."
Eduardo gave him an odd look before going back to dabbing. Mark stopped watching for a moment before going back over to the counter and reordering his coffee and also ordering an apple turnover, hoping maybe to offer a peace offering to Eduardo.
"Here," he said by ways of explanation, nearly smashing the turnover into Eduardo's face, saving himself by lowering it slightly. Eduardo gave him a glare and went back to examining his shirt. Mark set it on to the table next to Eduardo before sitting down.
He examined Eduardo. He was a little heavier than he was in college, but still tall. His tan seemed more pronounced, where he was able to get a glimpse of, probably from living in Singapore. He was shaven, his aftershave infecting Mark's nose with an ease that was familiar. The suit had been fitted, snug across pointy shoulder but now Eduardo was stripped down to his collared shirt. It was white, slightly clinging to Eduardo's frame.
Mark felt his mouth go a bit dry. Now, if he wanted to listen to Chris' advice, would be the perfect time to compliment Eduardo. They were in the same place, at the same time, and Eduardo did look good, even when he had coffee all over his torso and occasionally cursing.
"You look good Eduardo," Mark managed to say a few moments later. Mark watched for Eduardo's reaction, trying to find what Chris had been talking about when he had told Mark about Eduardo (which looking back on, wow Chris, could you be any more obvious that Eduardo was coming to Palo Alto?).
Eduardo paused in his curse, straightening up to meet Mark's gaze. His eyes were wide, eyebrows raised, and, like a last minute addition, the slightest of flush on the upper end of his cheekbones. His posture looked more relaxed though, his shoulders not as tensed as when he had been dabbing at his shirt and when he had first made contact with Mark.
"Really Mark? God you're so...I don't have the time for this," Eduardo said, his voice rising in pitch as he ran a worried hand through his hair, making it stand up slightly. Eduardo snatched up the pile of used napkins, grabbed his unscarred briefcase, and his coffee. He looked back and grabbed the turn-over at the last minute, not saying goodbye to Mark.
Mark watched Eduardo walk away, trying not to let his eyes drop below Eduardo's waist line, knowing he would be distracted by Eduardo's swaying hips. He smiled to himself as he sipped at his drink, remembering the way that Eduardo had flushed and stood, looking so calm.
Maybe Chris had been on to something afterwards.
iii.
Mark was not jealous. He was not jealous of the way that Eduardo would lean into other people, the way he would smile and laugh around them. He was not jealous that (at first) the only way he could receive Eduardo's attention, his full, not dazed eye attention was by telling Eduardo he looked good.
He had tested Chris' theory a couple more times after the coffee shop incident and it would work. Eduardo would turn towards Mark, stare directly into his eyes, and his cheeks would be flushed. Eduardo would position his body more angled towards Mark, even if the look on Wardo's face was full of confusion. Conversation was stilted, short, and Eduardo would flee to the other side of the room as if talking to Mark was some sort of a Herculean task.
So Mark might have started saying it more, just to watch Eduardo's attention shift on to him. He would watch the way that Eduardo's eyes became focused, all of his attention, all of Eduardo's presence drawn solely to Mark. He would do it whenever they ran into each other: at meetings about Facebook, that coffee shop close to the Facebook office, at a club, at a party Dustin and Sean threw for Mark's birthday. Mark would tell Eduardo looked good and then Eduardo would give his attention to Mark for a while, laughing at his jokes and dry humor and reminding Mark of Harvard.
After a while, Mark was able to just say Eduardo and Eduardo would look at him with a wry smile and come over and talk to Mark. It became less strained, less forced, more natural, and Mark felt more comfortable than any point during his Harvard days when there had been so much tension and the need to gogogo and leave Eduardo and their unspoken something behind in broken laptops, harsh words, and unspoken desires.
iv.
"Eduardo, you look nice. That suit...fits you," Mark said, very direct and forward, as always, after months of implementing his plan of complimenting of Eduardo until he remembered how much he enjoyed Mark. He ignored how the group of businessmen and women were giving him strange looks. He just watched as Eduardo raised an eyebrow and looked at Mark, directly into his eyes.
"Thank you Mark," Eduardo replied easily, but Mark saw how his fingers twitched. How his fingers clenched and released, as if he wanted to grab for something. Maybe Eduardo wanted to grab on to Mark, maybe he wanted to grab on to Mark and drag him away somewhere and maybe they could kiss and-.
"Did you need something Mark?"
You.
Eduardo was giving him an incredulous look. He was flustered and gaping his mouth opening and closing. His hand was twitching faster and then suddenly Eduardo was gone, rushing off to somewhere that wasn't near Mark and his great, big, traitorous mouth.
v.
But Mark didn’t want it to end like that.
vi.
He didn’t want it to end with people walking away anymore.
He was sick of people, him and Eduardo, just walking away from each other.
vii.
So he followed him.
He followed Eduardo with determination, not running, but definitely pursuing and not ashamed.
Closer and closer and-
vii.
“Eduardo,” Mark said, when he caught up to him. He grasped on to what fabric he could get by Eduardo’s elbow. “Eduardo, wait.”
“What Mark,” Eduardo asked, not turning away to face Mark. His voice was scratchy, his fingers twitching.
Mark was quiet for a few moments, unsure of what to say. I miss you? I want you to be my best friend-. Scratch that. I want you with me all of the time, even if we take it slow? What did he say? Mark slowly walked in front of Eduardo, holding on to Eduardo’s elbow as if it was a lifeline, looking up into Eduardo’s eyes.
“I think you like it when I compliment you, is that crazy?”
Eduardo didn’t answer, looking away from Mark and down at the ground before shaking his head no.
“And I like complimenting you,” Mark said as if it was something he needed to clarify. Eduardo snorted a little.
“I noticed,” answered the bare twitch of a smile as Eduardo looked up and back into Mark’s eyes. It made Mark inhale; it was like a sucker punch to the gut, too familiar and only a bit different because now Mark could see the lust in his whereas before he had brushed it off as something else.
“What does that make us?”
“Acquaintances that can admire each other?”
“Friends?”
“I can accept friends,” Eduardo said, letting himself smile.
“Beautiful,” Mark mumbled before leaning in and kissing Eduardo, who eagerly pressed forward.
viii.
They didn't have sex after that first kiss, making Dustin nearly cry with the lack of clichéd reunion sex. Instead, Eduardo was living back in Singapore. Mark and him would argue, make up, tease, taunt, and talk about their days as Eduardo was just waking up while Mark was eating lunch. They would Skype, email, text (which Eduardo complained about because he felt it "limited the emotions" available or something).
There was also the nights when Eduardo couldn't sleep, so he would call Mark and Mark would explain to Eduardo that yes, he thought Eduardo was beautiful and pretty and all the good things that happened in Mark's world, even if he was on another side of it.
They had went six years of separation; fifteen hours was nothing.
coda
"Mark," Chris called out as he walked into Mark's house, pocketing the key that Mark had given him all those years ago when he had finally upgraded and moved out of the house Eduardo had rented them.
Tonight was game night, one of the first that the "Facebook Four" (Thank you Dustin, Chris thought sarcastically) had had since Mark and Eduardo had gotten together. Eduardo had flown in two days ago and yesterday had still been fighting off jet-lag (or Mark, if Eduardo's laughs and "Mark stops"-s were any indication), so they had decided that game night would be tonight. Chris always came early but he was only early by ten minutes. He didn't exactly expect to hear the sounds of lust and Mark mumbling something that made Eduardo gasp and whine.
Chris Hughes was usually calm, cool, and collected (like James Bond but way cooler because Bond didn't have a literature degree), and while he didn't understand heterosexual sex noises, him and his boyfriend made enough sounds of their own homosexual sex noises that walking into Mark's house unannounced, he could tell what those two were up to. And it made him flush because, ew, he did not need to hear his ex-roommates making those noises.
Not to mention that the one story house wasn't particularly sound proof.
"Oh Eduardo, beau garçon .... le garçon le plus beau du monde ...," came Mark's voice from the living room. Chris peaked around the corner and nearly dropped the take-over he had decided to bring for video game night with the boys.
Mark was between Eduardo's thighs, that were resting on the couch. Eduardo's cock was out, look a little red, when it was visible between Mark's lips. Mark pulled off with a pop and Chris looked up to see what Mark and Eduardo would say. Mark reached his hands up from down by his sides and rubbed his hands up and down Eduardo's thighs.
"You're so goddamn beautiful Wardo. So, so pretty," Mark said before putting his head back down, his mouth stretching around Eduardo's cock. Chris ducked back around the corner, not sure whether to leave the house or show himself. Instead, he leaned back against the wall and listened as Mark let loose a stream of compliments (which seemed to be full of English, French, something old, and something more Spanish but the accent more rough) between enthusiastic sucks and Eduardo's keening whimpers and whines. "So goddamn pretty. I can't stand it sometimes."
"Mark, Mark, Mark," Eduardo chanted, his fingers squeaking as they clutched and moved harshly against the leather couch. Mark hummed as he pulled off again.
"God, you are so fucking pretty. You don't even know how pretty you are. With your pretty, long limbs and beautiful, big eyes. Everyone wants you but you don't see it," Mark said, his voice thick. "You always look so good baby."
"Mark, you're being-," Eduardo cut off with a whine. "Y-you're not playing faaair. Chris is going to be here soon and then I am going to look-."
"Beautiful Eduardo, you're going to look so beautiful and I won't be able to stand it. I can't help it. You're so pretty and I just... I just..."
Chris heard another suck and a moan, both rather loud, and he snuck out to wait until Dustin got here to warn him, feeling a little dirty, a lot ashamed of himself, and convinced that, really, he was amazing and that if it wasn't for him, Mark wouldn't be enthusiastically sucking on Eduardo's "pretty, pink prick" about now.
See?
Better than James Bond.
**Translations (in order):
beautiful boy...the most beautiful boy in the world
Recipient: rrrg
Prompt Number: 84
Characters/Pairings: Mark Zuckerberg, Eduardo Saverin, Chris, mentions of Sean and Dustin, Mark/Eduardo
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 for un-graphic sex scene
Word Count: 2,675
Disclaimer: This fanwork is based on fictional representations of the characters in The Social Network; I make no claims of ownership of the characters or concepts.
Summary (or prompt scenario): Mark slowly walked in front of Eduardo, holding on to Eduardo’s elbow as if it was a lifeline, looking up into Eduardo’s eyes. “I think you like it when I compliment you, is that crazy?”
Notes: I suck at porn, so I didn't write anything explict but Eduardo is enjoying all of Mark's attention. I hope this is okay though? If not, I really do apologize for sucking everything up.Translation at the bottom.
i.
It started back at Harvard in the dorm rooms. They would start drinking the beer that Eduardo would buy for them and they would start getting tipsy. Eduardo only bought them beer when he was having a particularly bad day and he wanted to forget with the aid of the people in the Kirkland suite. And Eduardo would just sit there looking so…pretty. Mark could appreciate beauty, really he could. And Eduardo was pretty with his big brown eyes, his long limbs, and his pink lips. So Mark would jokingly ask him to get him “a beer pretty, pretty boy”, his tongue growing looser and looser with the aid of alcohol.
There were other times too, when they weren’t nearly as inebriated. Mark was say that he looked nice if Eduardo asked his advice on an outfit to wear when he went out to dinner with his girlfriends. He’d say he’d looked like a pretty wife sarcastically when Eduardo would pick up a few things in Mark’s room in order to sit down or make it habitable.
Mark hadn’t even been the one to notice what Eduardo did; Chris had, even if he had never said anything. When Mark would call him pretty boy, his posture would straighten, not looking at morose as when he walked in. He would smile and flush, something that Mark had always pushed off on the effects of alcohol. If Mark was sitting next to him, he would lean into Mark, as if Mark was the sun and Eduardo was just a moon (now was when Mark was sure that Chris needed to leave all of his English classes and romanticisms alone).
But this was the bottom line, Chris had explained, looking at Mark as if he was very slow on the uptake (or Dustin).
Eduardo liked to be complimented on his looks.
A lot.
Especially if it was from Mark, because while he brightened up when other people called him nice things, he didn’t look like he did when Mark complimented. Dustin had tried to make Eduardo make the same faces that he did when Mark called him pretty, but instead it was a wane little smile that Dustin took as a sign of failure.
And if Mark was smart, he would take advantage of this gem of information that Chris was imparting on to him and somehow make…something…with Eduardo. This was said with an intense look that was ruined when Chris’ bangs fell into his face, making him looking less intimidating. Mark stared at him for a moment and nodded though, not agreeing or disagreeing that he would use this.
It was an improbable thing anyway; he little to never saw Eduardo. They saw each other in board meetings, but never on a consistent schedule. Eduardo sometimes showed up to a charity gala (usually ones having to do with profiting South American children or helping the penguins),
But he tucked it away anyway.
ii.
Ironically enough, the weekend after he had that conversation with Chris, he ran into Eduardo literally. It wasn't at one of the high-flying society functions that they usually stiffly nodded heads at or a board meeting where Mark could watch Eduardo's general mood drop as they talked about stock shares and advertisers, things that Eduardo had tried to talk to Mark about but Mark had ignored. No, they met at a coffee shop, Eduardo ordering something strong with plenty of shots of espresso (just how he liked it, remembered from early morning coffee runs after nights of cramming for exams together) while Mark ordered a latte that he was unable to get at the Facebook office, fancy catering or not.
Eduardo let out an expletive as the coffee seeped through his white shirt, while Mark apologized. Not profusely but a few times over.
"It's fine," Eduardo gritted out through a tightly clenched jaw as he tried to dab away the stain of coffee. Mark watched him before reaching for napkins and helping him, dabbing at the stain along with Eduardo. Eduardo glared at him, then down at Mark's hand before shoving it away.
"Stop it Mark, you're rubbing which-," Eduardo started.
"-which rubs it in as opposed to dabbing," Mark finished for Eduardo, "I remember."
Eduardo gave him an odd look before going back to dabbing. Mark stopped watching for a moment before going back over to the counter and reordering his coffee and also ordering an apple turnover, hoping maybe to offer a peace offering to Eduardo.
"Here," he said by ways of explanation, nearly smashing the turnover into Eduardo's face, saving himself by lowering it slightly. Eduardo gave him a glare and went back to examining his shirt. Mark set it on to the table next to Eduardo before sitting down.
He examined Eduardo. He was a little heavier than he was in college, but still tall. His tan seemed more pronounced, where he was able to get a glimpse of, probably from living in Singapore. He was shaven, his aftershave infecting Mark's nose with an ease that was familiar. The suit had been fitted, snug across pointy shoulder but now Eduardo was stripped down to his collared shirt. It was white, slightly clinging to Eduardo's frame.
Mark felt his mouth go a bit dry. Now, if he wanted to listen to Chris' advice, would be the perfect time to compliment Eduardo. They were in the same place, at the same time, and Eduardo did look good, even when he had coffee all over his torso and occasionally cursing.
"You look good Eduardo," Mark managed to say a few moments later. Mark watched for Eduardo's reaction, trying to find what Chris had been talking about when he had told Mark about Eduardo (which looking back on, wow Chris, could you be any more obvious that Eduardo was coming to Palo Alto?).
Eduardo paused in his curse, straightening up to meet Mark's gaze. His eyes were wide, eyebrows raised, and, like a last minute addition, the slightest of flush on the upper end of his cheekbones. His posture looked more relaxed though, his shoulders not as tensed as when he had been dabbing at his shirt and when he had first made contact with Mark.
"Really Mark? God you're so...I don't have the time for this," Eduardo said, his voice rising in pitch as he ran a worried hand through his hair, making it stand up slightly. Eduardo snatched up the pile of used napkins, grabbed his unscarred briefcase, and his coffee. He looked back and grabbed the turn-over at the last minute, not saying goodbye to Mark.
Mark watched Eduardo walk away, trying not to let his eyes drop below Eduardo's waist line, knowing he would be distracted by Eduardo's swaying hips. He smiled to himself as he sipped at his drink, remembering the way that Eduardo had flushed and stood, looking so calm.
Maybe Chris had been on to something afterwards.
iii.
Mark was not jealous. He was not jealous of the way that Eduardo would lean into other people, the way he would smile and laugh around them. He was not jealous that (at first) the only way he could receive Eduardo's attention, his full, not dazed eye attention was by telling Eduardo he looked good.
He had tested Chris' theory a couple more times after the coffee shop incident and it would work. Eduardo would turn towards Mark, stare directly into his eyes, and his cheeks would be flushed. Eduardo would position his body more angled towards Mark, even if the look on Wardo's face was full of confusion. Conversation was stilted, short, and Eduardo would flee to the other side of the room as if talking to Mark was some sort of a Herculean task.
So Mark might have started saying it more, just to watch Eduardo's attention shift on to him. He would watch the way that Eduardo's eyes became focused, all of his attention, all of Eduardo's presence drawn solely to Mark. He would do it whenever they ran into each other: at meetings about Facebook, that coffee shop close to the Facebook office, at a club, at a party Dustin and Sean threw for Mark's birthday. Mark would tell Eduardo looked good and then Eduardo would give his attention to Mark for a while, laughing at his jokes and dry humor and reminding Mark of Harvard.
After a while, Mark was able to just say Eduardo and Eduardo would look at him with a wry smile and come over and talk to Mark. It became less strained, less forced, more natural, and Mark felt more comfortable than any point during his Harvard days when there had been so much tension and the need to gogogo and leave Eduardo and their unspoken something behind in broken laptops, harsh words, and unspoken desires.
iv.
"Eduardo, you look nice. That suit...fits you," Mark said, very direct and forward, as always, after months of implementing his plan of complimenting of Eduardo until he remembered how much he enjoyed Mark. He ignored how the group of businessmen and women were giving him strange looks. He just watched as Eduardo raised an eyebrow and looked at Mark, directly into his eyes.
"Thank you Mark," Eduardo replied easily, but Mark saw how his fingers twitched. How his fingers clenched and released, as if he wanted to grab for something. Maybe Eduardo wanted to grab on to Mark, maybe he wanted to grab on to Mark and drag him away somewhere and maybe they could kiss and-.
"Did you need something Mark?"
You.
Eduardo was giving him an incredulous look. He was flustered and gaping his mouth opening and closing. His hand was twitching faster and then suddenly Eduardo was gone, rushing off to somewhere that wasn't near Mark and his great, big, traitorous mouth.
v.
But Mark didn’t want it to end like that.
vi.
He didn’t want it to end with people walking away anymore.
He was sick of people, him and Eduardo, just walking away from each other.
vii.
So he followed him.
He followed Eduardo with determination, not running, but definitely pursuing and not ashamed.
Closer and closer and-
vii.
“Eduardo,” Mark said, when he caught up to him. He grasped on to what fabric he could get by Eduardo’s elbow. “Eduardo, wait.”
“What Mark,” Eduardo asked, not turning away to face Mark. His voice was scratchy, his fingers twitching.
Mark was quiet for a few moments, unsure of what to say. I miss you? I want you to be my best friend-. Scratch that. I want you with me all of the time, even if we take it slow? What did he say? Mark slowly walked in front of Eduardo, holding on to Eduardo’s elbow as if it was a lifeline, looking up into Eduardo’s eyes.
“I think you like it when I compliment you, is that crazy?”
Eduardo didn’t answer, looking away from Mark and down at the ground before shaking his head no.
“And I like complimenting you,” Mark said as if it was something he needed to clarify. Eduardo snorted a little.
“I noticed,” answered the bare twitch of a smile as Eduardo looked up and back into Mark’s eyes. It made Mark inhale; it was like a sucker punch to the gut, too familiar and only a bit different because now Mark could see the lust in his whereas before he had brushed it off as something else.
“What does that make us?”
“Acquaintances that can admire each other?”
“Friends?”
“I can accept friends,” Eduardo said, letting himself smile.
“Beautiful,” Mark mumbled before leaning in and kissing Eduardo, who eagerly pressed forward.
viii.
They didn't have sex after that first kiss, making Dustin nearly cry with the lack of clichéd reunion sex. Instead, Eduardo was living back in Singapore. Mark and him would argue, make up, tease, taunt, and talk about their days as Eduardo was just waking up while Mark was eating lunch. They would Skype, email, text (which Eduardo complained about because he felt it "limited the emotions" available or something).
There was also the nights when Eduardo couldn't sleep, so he would call Mark and Mark would explain to Eduardo that yes, he thought Eduardo was beautiful and pretty and all the good things that happened in Mark's world, even if he was on another side of it.
They had went six years of separation; fifteen hours was nothing.
coda
"Mark," Chris called out as he walked into Mark's house, pocketing the key that Mark had given him all those years ago when he had finally upgraded and moved out of the house Eduardo had rented them.
Tonight was game night, one of the first that the "Facebook Four" (Thank you Dustin, Chris thought sarcastically) had had since Mark and Eduardo had gotten together. Eduardo had flown in two days ago and yesterday had still been fighting off jet-lag (or Mark, if Eduardo's laughs and "Mark stops"-s were any indication), so they had decided that game night would be tonight. Chris always came early but he was only early by ten minutes. He didn't exactly expect to hear the sounds of lust and Mark mumbling something that made Eduardo gasp and whine.
Chris Hughes was usually calm, cool, and collected (like James Bond but way cooler because Bond didn't have a literature degree), and while he didn't understand heterosexual sex noises, him and his boyfriend made enough sounds of their own homosexual sex noises that walking into Mark's house unannounced, he could tell what those two were up to. And it made him flush because, ew, he did not need to hear his ex-roommates making those noises.
Not to mention that the one story house wasn't particularly sound proof.
"Oh Eduardo, beau garçon .... le garçon le plus beau du monde ...," came Mark's voice from the living room. Chris peaked around the corner and nearly dropped the take-over he had decided to bring for video game night with the boys.
Mark was between Eduardo's thighs, that were resting on the couch. Eduardo's cock was out, look a little red, when it was visible between Mark's lips. Mark pulled off with a pop and Chris looked up to see what Mark and Eduardo would say. Mark reached his hands up from down by his sides and rubbed his hands up and down Eduardo's thighs.
"You're so goddamn beautiful Wardo. So, so pretty," Mark said before putting his head back down, his mouth stretching around Eduardo's cock. Chris ducked back around the corner, not sure whether to leave the house or show himself. Instead, he leaned back against the wall and listened as Mark let loose a stream of compliments (which seemed to be full of English, French, something old, and something more Spanish but the accent more rough) between enthusiastic sucks and Eduardo's keening whimpers and whines. "So goddamn pretty. I can't stand it sometimes."
"Mark, Mark, Mark," Eduardo chanted, his fingers squeaking as they clutched and moved harshly against the leather couch. Mark hummed as he pulled off again.
"God, you are so fucking pretty. You don't even know how pretty you are. With your pretty, long limbs and beautiful, big eyes. Everyone wants you but you don't see it," Mark said, his voice thick. "You always look so good baby."
"Mark, you're being-," Eduardo cut off with a whine. "Y-you're not playing faaair. Chris is going to be here soon and then I am going to look-."
"Beautiful Eduardo, you're going to look so beautiful and I won't be able to stand it. I can't help it. You're so pretty and I just... I just..."
Chris heard another suck and a moan, both rather loud, and he snuck out to wait until Dustin got here to warn him, feeling a little dirty, a lot ashamed of himself, and convinced that, really, he was amazing and that if it wasn't for him, Mark wouldn't be enthusiastically sucking on Eduardo's "pretty, pink prick" about now.
See?
Better than James Bond.
**Translations (in order):
beautiful boy...the most beautiful boy in the world