fic: the one where they spent the whole weekend in bed (part 3/3)
fic: the one where they spent the whole weekend in bed (part three of three)
fandom: the social network
pairing: mark/eduardo
notes: for the tsn_kinkmeme prompt "That time at Harvard where they spent the whole weekend in bed."
SUNDAY 12:15 AM
"Are you asleep yet?" Mark asks, and Eduardo groans from where he's nuzzled against Mark, stomach to Mark's back.
"What's up?" he murmurs sleepily, breath hot on Mark's neck.
"Nothing. Just wondering."
"Go to sleep, 'kay?" He presses his lips, soft, to the spot behind Mark's ear. Mark closes his eyes.
SUNDAY 8 AM
Eduardo wakes up when Mark climbs out of bed.
"Hi," he says, rubbing both hands over his face and waving at the same time.
"Morning," Mark says, voice scratchy. "I'm gonna get some food."
"Toast? Please?" Eduardo says, flopping onto his stomach.
There's predictably no one awake, not at eight AM on a Sunday morning. Mark blinks at the pale light, hands in his pockets, and his breath puffs out in clouds of white. It hasn't snowed yet, but he can feel it coming. The buildings loom austere and clear-edged in the morning air, and he can't stop himself from grinning, mouth curling upwards; he noses the neck of his sweatshirt over his mouth to hide the evidence. It smells like Eduardo, and smoke, and detergent.
SUNDAY 9 AM
Eduardo comes awake, mumbling, and Mark doesn't look up from the computer, just motions at the takeout box on top of a stack of books.
Eduardo stumbles sleepily over to him, rubs a hand over Mark's neck, and grabs the toast.
"Thanks," he says, mouth full, and pulls on his shoes.
"Are- are you leaving?"
"Gotta grab my macro notebook."
Mark nods, and Eduardo shuts the door quietly behind him.
SUNDAY 10:30 AM
"Oh my God, this is so fucking boring," Eduardo moans, slapping the book shut and rolling over. The light's still filtering in, golden, and Eduardo's shirt rides up, revealing a stretch of tan, flat stomach.
"I can help you," Mark offers, tearing his eyes away.
SUNDAY 11 AM
It's been half an hour and they haven't gotten anywhere. Mark keeps making scathing comments about Keynesian economics and the applicability of the AS/AD curve, and it is extremely counterproductive.
"Oh my God," Eduardo gasps out in between bouts of random laughter, because Mark is ranting about the supply and demand of pornography in the Catholic community, and it's definitely at least 70% bullshit but it's fucking funny.
Mark stops and grins up at him. They're sitting on the bed, Eduardo propped against the wall, and Mark cross-legged.
"Should we take a break?" Eduardo asks, "Because this has been fun, but it's absolutely no help."
Mark nods, and gets an idea.
"I think I figured out a good way to help you study," he says nonchalantly, and Eduardo nods at him over the rim of his coffee cup.
"Yeah?"
SUNDAY 11:25 AM
"Oh Christ, Mark, I don't remember-" he stares at Mark, who's on his knees in front of him, mouth poised over Eduardo's cock. Mark licks his lips, looks up at him smugly, and Eduardo groans.
"The- shit- the RGDP will increase."
Mark looks down at the book.
"Nice," he murmurs, and licks one delicate stripe up Eduardo's cock. Eduardo jerks wildly, hand clenching white-knuckled in the blanket.
"Now, what policies would be pursued to eliminate a recessionary gap, and what would be their purpose?"
Eduardo grins because he knows this one. "Expansionary-" he breaks off, because Mark takes him in his mouth, and Eduardo closes his eyes.
"Go on," Mark says, pulling off again. Eduardo shoots him a dirty look.
"And- and the purpose is to increase aggregate demand b-by increasing government spending-" he says, and then, "Fuck, Mark, come on-"
Mark takes pity on him.
SUNDAY 12 PM
"I'm alive!" they hear from outside, and there's a knock on the door. They're on the bed, books pushed off, just lying down for a while, side by side, - "a break", Eduardo had said breathlessly, right before he'd pushed Mark down and jerked him off slow and steady.
"Come in," Mark calls, and Dustin pushes the door open wide.
"I am ALIVE! And it is so good to be alive. Dude, I feel good."
"I thought you'd be hungover as fuck."
"Well, I was. But I have thrown up several times now, and I'm feeling great. But really fucking hungry, ooh, is that toast?"
"Go for it," Eduardo says, hiccuping with laughter.
Chris pokes his head in the door.
"Aww, team meeting in Mark's room? Okay," he says, coming inside. Mark sits up.
"So, I heard Dustin did not die," he says conversationally.
"It was a close call," Chris says, narrowing his eyes at him. "Ohhhh Chris! Hold my hair! Chris, I think I'm puking up my stomach lining!"
Eduardo laughs.
"How goes the studying?" Chris asks, an unexpectedly evil glint in his eye, and maybe it's really way, way too obvious that they both got off in the last half hour.
"Great!" Eduardo says, "Mark has figured out some really efficient ways to just, you know, get all the information in there." He cracks up helplessly, and Dustin nearly spits out his toast.
"I don't even wanna know," he says, and drags Chris out of the room.
SUNDAY 3 PM
"Hey."
Mark looks up. Eduardo's in the doorway, with his scarf still on. He'd had an advisor meeting at the bookstore, but he'd left all his books and shit here. Mark was happy about that. Not that he would admit it out loud.
"Hi," he says, and Eduardo collapses on his bed.
"Do you mind if I call someone?" he asks, pulling out his Blackberry, and Mark shakes his head, returning to his typing.
"Óla, mami," he says, voice thickening into the Portuguese, and Mark can't help it, he listens. He doesn't understand a fucking word, but it's objectively beautiful- all elongated vowels and swallowed syllables, dramatic in a way that probably makes "have a nice day" sound like some epic proclamation of love.
He swallows.
"Sim- sim, óla, pai-" and Eduardo's voice changes. He shifts on the bed and sits up, back going straight, and he stops talking and starts nodding a lot, adding "Sim. Sim, é verdade- por favor, pai-"
He hangs up after five minutes, and there's a long silence. Eduardo heaves a sigh, and flops back down, opening his book.
SUNDAY 4:15 PM
"Okay, describe the Engel curve. Just like generally."
"Well, it's very round. Very- uh, very curved."
"Idiot," Mark says, but he's grinning, and Eduardo's laughing breathlessly.
"Okay, fine. It describes how a consumer's purchase of a good varies as the consumer's total resources vary." He says this in a terrible cockney accent, and maybe it's the fact that Mark's left the room twice in the last thirty-six hours, or that it's actually hitting him that he has a steady supply of orgasms sitting across from him, giggling, but he starts laughing and he can't stop.
Eduardo rolls over onto his side, practically choking, and Mark collapses next to him.
Through teary eyes Mark briefly sees Dustin open the bedroom door, squint confusedly at them, and close it, and it just sets him off again.
SUNDAY 4:30 PM
They're lying, spent, on their sides, just looking at each other. Mark feels a little like they're in a scene from some terrible cheesy romantic comedy, but when Eduardo tips his chin up and kisses him, gently, square on the lips, Mark doesn't really give a shit.
It's the first time they've kissed like that- quiet, soft, for the most part close-mouthed- not a build-up to something else but something all by itself.
Eduardo cups Mark's jaw in his hand, feels the muscles working, and Mark shifts a leg between Eduardo's thighs, moves his hand up Eduardo's side, under his shirt.
Eduardo breaks away, and his grin is blinding.
SUNDAY 5:15 PM
They're all sprawled in various places in the common room- Dustin draped over a chair, tapping away at his laptop, Chris cross-legged on the floor. Mark is lying on his stomach on the couch while Eduardo straddles his desk chair, holding a notebook out in front of him, mumbling to himself.
"curve.. supply increases… they'd buy more… "
"What's like, an academic word for clusterfuck?" Chris asks thoughtfully, chewing on the end of his pencil.
Dustin snorts. "Why?"
"I wanna say, basically, the unfavorable conditions for Germany set out by the Treaty of Versailles as well as the power vacuum in Europe created a veritable clusterfuck of causes for the second World War, but like, minus the clusterfuck."
"Accumulation," Mark suggests.
"Uh, shitload," Dustin says unhelpfully.
"Maelstrom," Eduardo comes up with, and Dustin nods, smiling slightly maniacally, and writes it down. Mark shoots Eduardo a look.
"What? I took creative writing in high school. I can out-synonym any of you motherfuckers."
SUNDAY 6 PM
"Traditional Sunday night dinner?" Chris asks, looking up from his notebook, and there's ink all over his face. Dustin points and laughs.
"Sure," Mark says, rolling over and sitting up. "But stop saying it's a tradition, we've done it like three times."
"What is this?" Eduardo asks, amused. "You have roommate traditions? Do you also have matching outfits?"
"Whatever, lonely-ass single-liver," Dustin says, and Eduardo throws a pencil at him.
"It's just dinner," Mark says, going a little red.
"Dinner at which we discuss our weekends! And life goals and plans!" Dustin adds, still laughing, looking under the couch for the pencil.
"Where does this magical banquet of friendship take place?" Eduardo asks, and deflects the pencil which Dustin has found and, of course, thrown again.
"Ugh, y'all are going to take out an eye!" Chris says, standing up and batting the pencil onto the ground, and Dustin and Eduardo immediately start cracking up. Even Mark smiles.
"Whatever, Mom," Dustin says, "Really? Y'all?" and Chris slaps him upside the head.
SUNDAY 6:15 PM
"Wait, your 'special dinner' is just in the Kirkland d-hall? Really?"
"Shut up, bro. It's about togetherness."
"No, shut up, Dustin, it's about the fact that we're all on meal plan and it's too expensive to go out."
"Um, actually, shut up Chris, because you are going to get kicked out of this table of brotherly love if you don't zip it."
"Okay, guys, just shut the fuck up."
SUNDAY 6:30 PM
"I almost hooked up with three girls this weekend," Dustin says proudly, when Chris' rant about Bush had trickled off.
"Wait, let me check your math," Mark says, counting on his fingers. "Almost hooking up with three girls equals.. uh, not actually hooking up with anyone? Am I right?"
"Whatever, Mark."
Eduardo nods comfortingly at Dustin, but can't keep down his grin. Dustin flicks a pea at him.
Chris makes a vague noise of discomfort when it comes too close to him and Dustin says, "Oh I'm so soooorry, Christine, I wouldn't want to take out an eyeeee!"
Chris throws it back at him, and it hits him square in the face. "Ha!"
"Did you hear they scheduled Bill Gates? For this February?" Eduardo says, holding up peacemaker hands in between Dustin and Chris.
"That's tight," Dustin says, and points his fork at Mark. "You should march right up to him and explain why you didn't sell Synapse in high school. Spit in his eye. Yell, I LOVE APPLE! Steve Jobs is my hero!"
"Do not do any of that," Eduardo laughs.
SUNDAY 7:15 PM
"Do you guys seriously go out for ice cream after every bromantic dinner?" Eduardo asks, licking at his cone of butter pecan. "It's like thirty degrees out."
"Hell yes we do! Ice cream cones symbolize togetherness and friendship."
Mark snorts, and takes a bite of his mint chip. "Dustin just can't go three hours with an obscene amount of sugar in his veins."
"Where are we going next?" Eduardo asks, laughing. "Are we gonna go on the merry-go-round? Maybe the petting zoo?"
"Respect the process, jeez. You should feel lucky we're including you. I don't know if you've noticed, Wardo, but we're a pretty exclusive friend group…"
Mark snorts again, and shivers, and Eduardo wraps an arm around his shoulders.
"You cold?"
Mark shrugs, and Eduardo rubs his back. Behind him, he can see Dustin making a silent gesture of projectile vomiting. Mark flicks him off, and goes up on his toes in front of Eduardo and kisses him, lips cold from ice cream and chapped from wind. He pulls away and shoots a look at Dustin, while Eduardo, oblivious, mutters "ugh, butter pecan mint," wiping at his mouth with one hand.
SUNDAY 8 PM
Eduardo's sitting on the couch, econ book on his right thigh, Mark's head on his left. He has a hand in Mark's hair, sort of stroking absentmindedly, and Mark would usually shy away from this much physical contact, but the look on Dustin's face is too fucking good to pass up.
"God, I am so fucked for this midterm," Eduardo says dramatically, and Mark inhales when Eduardo's hand tightens in Mark's hair for a second. It feels good. He looks up at the elegant curve of Eduardo's mouth and really wants it on his cock. Eduardo looks down at him.
"You'll be fine, bro, just drink a bunch of Red Bull right before. That always helps for me in CS tests."
Mark laughs, and leaves his mouth open- licks his lips, and Eduardo mirrors him. Eduardo's thumb strokes the spot right behind his ear, and the hairs on his neck prickle.
Dustin, Mark remembers, and goes red. Yeah, it was funny before, but when it actually comes down to it, he doesn't want anyone to know about what they do. By themselves, or whatever. No, the time Eduardo spends on his knees with Mark's cock in his mouth are very private. And, uh, vice versa.
Except, Eduardo is still looking at him, eyes dark, fingernails softly scratching Mark's scalp, and he's going to need a pillow to cover his boner extremely soon.
He coughs, looking away, and pulls a blanket over him, artfully arranged for maximum camouflage. Eduardo laughs to himself, low in his throat.
SUNDAY 8:05 PM
"I have to go to the bathroom," Eduardo says, hand tightening briefly in Mark's hair for a second, and Mark waits about ten seconds after he leaves before he mumbles something unintelligible and scrambles after him. Dustin just waves them off, pressing the volume up on the remote.
He opens the door cautiously, and Eduardo already has his pants off. Okay, then.
"C'mere," Eduardo murmurs, grinning, and he pulls Mark towards him by the hips.
Mark slips his tongue in Eduardo's mouth and Eduardo practically lifts him up onto the counter, unzips his jeans.
"It's been, what, eight hours since you last came? We should really remedy that."
Mark nods frantically, and Eduardo takes his cock in hand, smoothes precome slickly over the length of it.
"Looking at me like you were gonna fucking die if I didn't blow you-" he says quietly, low in his throat, breathing hard, and puts his head down and his mouth around Mark.
Mark groans, and his knuckles go white gripping the cold marble countertop.
"Jesus, Jesus, Wardo-" he gasps, and Eduardo peels his fingers off of the countertop with one hand and puts them in his hair.
"Fuck my mouth," he says, and Mark shudders because did Eduardo really just say that? That's like, porn star shit. Mark closes his eyes and thrusts jerkily, hand cradling the back of Eduardo's head, feeling the delicate bones of his skull.
God, Eduardo's so wet, and so eager, and it hits Mark for the first time. This isn't just them getting off. Fuck, Eduardo likes him. Cares about him, enough to say shit like "fuck my mouth", and rub his back when he's cold, and bring him food.
He shakes, moans, trying to keep himself quiet, and comes.
Eduardo likes him enough to swallow.
SUNDAY 8:08 PM
He pushes Eduardo against the wall and drops to his knees.
"God, Mark," Eduardo whispers, and the hot hiss of his voice makes Mark grin around Eduardo's cock.
"God- I - Mark, I love - how you do that, Mark, fuck-" he stutters desperately, hands flexing on Mark's shoulders, and Mark notices the slip, goes hot, and sucks him in further.
Eduardo groans wordless then, low, and Mark strains to hear but all he can catch is his name, quiet and near-reverent.
SUNDAY 8:30 PM
Eduardo's putting on his shoes, wrapping a scarf around his neck, and Mark doesn't want him to leave.
Eduardo stands up, goes to the door, and Mark opens it for him, leaning awkwardly against the wall.
"Well," Eduardo starts, grinning, hoisting his backpack on his back, and Mark tries to smile back. It feels like something's ending, somehow, and he knows it's irrational. He hates being irrational, it's such a waste of time, and he's going to see Eduardo tomorrow, but still he hangs onto the door and bites his lip and looks down.
"Thanks," Eduardo says. "For, uh, for everything." His eyes crinkle in a smile, and Mark kisses him.
Eduardo laughs a little, and pulls Mark flush against him, half in the doorway, half out.
No one's even in the hall, but Mark really doesn't give a shit. He kisses Eduardo with everything he has, the extent of the weird desperation that's sprung out of his Sunday night malaise. That feeling that it'll never be exactly like this again.
Eduardo exhales, shocked, and gives as good as he gets.
SUNDAY 8:35 PM
"I really have to go," Eduardo says into Mark's mouth, and he pulls away, and Mark tightens the hand on the back of Eduardo's neck and pulls him into another kiss.
"Mark," he says gently, laughing, and Mark says, "I know."
"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
Mark nods.
Halfway down the hall, Eduardo turns back and waves, and for some reason Mark's scared. He waves back, and waits until Eduardo's around the corner before he closes the door, hard, and flops down on the couch. Chews his thumbnail for a second, then shrugs it off and sits down at his laptop.
FOUR YEARS LATER, SATURDAY, 1 AM
Dustin pokes his head into the office. Mark's somehow still upright, typing wearily away.
"You should leave soon," Dustin says, not wanting to push too hard. It's not like they really talk, much, anymore. Mark works and goes home and works and goes home.
Now, Mark just makes a vague grunting sound and waves Dustin away.
"Hey, Mark," Dustin says suddenly, nearly biting his lip to shut himself up, but whatever- "Do you remember that weekend?"
"No," Mark says, but he's looking up at Dustin, eyes carefully blank.
"When, uh, I got my fake ID," Dustin goes on, laughing a little to himself and of course Mark remembers- kissing Eduardo hot and wet in a bathroom, pressing against him in the warm thrum of the laundry room of Kirkland, pale fingers on tan hips in the shower, grinning at him over a sandwich, curling against his chest on their sofa, quizzing him until they were laughing so hard they couldn't speak anymore, digging his hands into Eduardo's hair and thrusting into his mouth, and then kissing, and kissing, and kissing, until Mark's lips actually hurt and he shuddered just from Eduardo breathing against them. His hands still on the keyboard, and he's suddenly so very exhausted. Of course he fucking remembers.
"Night, Mark," Dustin says gently, and closes the door.
If Mark were the type to cry, this would probably be when he'd cry. Instead he shuts down his computer and sits in the darkness, the humming of machines around him the only thing he hears other than his ragged breathing.
fin
portuguese!
sim- yes
pai - father
é verdade- yeah that's true (inexact translation lolol)
por favor - please (but c'mon we've all had second grade Spanish )
fandom: the social network
pairing: mark/eduardo
notes: for the tsn_kinkmeme prompt "That time at Harvard where they spent the whole weekend in bed."
SUNDAY 12:15 AM
"Are you asleep yet?" Mark asks, and Eduardo groans from where he's nuzzled against Mark, stomach to Mark's back.
"What's up?" he murmurs sleepily, breath hot on Mark's neck.
"Nothing. Just wondering."
"Go to sleep, 'kay?" He presses his lips, soft, to the spot behind Mark's ear. Mark closes his eyes.
SUNDAY 8 AM
Eduardo wakes up when Mark climbs out of bed.
"Hi," he says, rubbing both hands over his face and waving at the same time.
"Morning," Mark says, voice scratchy. "I'm gonna get some food."
"Toast? Please?" Eduardo says, flopping onto his stomach.
There's predictably no one awake, not at eight AM on a Sunday morning. Mark blinks at the pale light, hands in his pockets, and his breath puffs out in clouds of white. It hasn't snowed yet, but he can feel it coming. The buildings loom austere and clear-edged in the morning air, and he can't stop himself from grinning, mouth curling upwards; he noses the neck of his sweatshirt over his mouth to hide the evidence. It smells like Eduardo, and smoke, and detergent.
SUNDAY 9 AM
Eduardo comes awake, mumbling, and Mark doesn't look up from the computer, just motions at the takeout box on top of a stack of books.
Eduardo stumbles sleepily over to him, rubs a hand over Mark's neck, and grabs the toast.
"Thanks," he says, mouth full, and pulls on his shoes.
"Are- are you leaving?"
"Gotta grab my macro notebook."
Mark nods, and Eduardo shuts the door quietly behind him.
SUNDAY 10:30 AM
"Oh my God, this is so fucking boring," Eduardo moans, slapping the book shut and rolling over. The light's still filtering in, golden, and Eduardo's shirt rides up, revealing a stretch of tan, flat stomach.
"I can help you," Mark offers, tearing his eyes away.
SUNDAY 11 AM
It's been half an hour and they haven't gotten anywhere. Mark keeps making scathing comments about Keynesian economics and the applicability of the AS/AD curve, and it is extremely counterproductive.
"Oh my God," Eduardo gasps out in between bouts of random laughter, because Mark is ranting about the supply and demand of pornography in the Catholic community, and it's definitely at least 70% bullshit but it's fucking funny.
Mark stops and grins up at him. They're sitting on the bed, Eduardo propped against the wall, and Mark cross-legged.
"Should we take a break?" Eduardo asks, "Because this has been fun, but it's absolutely no help."
Mark nods, and gets an idea.
"I think I figured out a good way to help you study," he says nonchalantly, and Eduardo nods at him over the rim of his coffee cup.
"Yeah?"
SUNDAY 11:25 AM
"Oh Christ, Mark, I don't remember-" he stares at Mark, who's on his knees in front of him, mouth poised over Eduardo's cock. Mark licks his lips, looks up at him smugly, and Eduardo groans.
"The- shit- the RGDP will increase."
Mark looks down at the book.
"Nice," he murmurs, and licks one delicate stripe up Eduardo's cock. Eduardo jerks wildly, hand clenching white-knuckled in the blanket.
"Now, what policies would be pursued to eliminate a recessionary gap, and what would be their purpose?"
Eduardo grins because he knows this one. "Expansionary-" he breaks off, because Mark takes him in his mouth, and Eduardo closes his eyes.
"Go on," Mark says, pulling off again. Eduardo shoots him a dirty look.
"And- and the purpose is to increase aggregate demand b-by increasing government spending-" he says, and then, "Fuck, Mark, come on-"
Mark takes pity on him.
SUNDAY 12 PM
"I'm alive!" they hear from outside, and there's a knock on the door. They're on the bed, books pushed off, just lying down for a while, side by side, - "a break", Eduardo had said breathlessly, right before he'd pushed Mark down and jerked him off slow and steady.
"Come in," Mark calls, and Dustin pushes the door open wide.
"I am ALIVE! And it is so good to be alive. Dude, I feel good."
"I thought you'd be hungover as fuck."
"Well, I was. But I have thrown up several times now, and I'm feeling great. But really fucking hungry, ooh, is that toast?"
"Go for it," Eduardo says, hiccuping with laughter.
Chris pokes his head in the door.
"Aww, team meeting in Mark's room? Okay," he says, coming inside. Mark sits up.
"So, I heard Dustin did not die," he says conversationally.
"It was a close call," Chris says, narrowing his eyes at him. "Ohhhh Chris! Hold my hair! Chris, I think I'm puking up my stomach lining!"
Eduardo laughs.
"How goes the studying?" Chris asks, an unexpectedly evil glint in his eye, and maybe it's really way, way too obvious that they both got off in the last half hour.
"Great!" Eduardo says, "Mark has figured out some really efficient ways to just, you know, get all the information in there." He cracks up helplessly, and Dustin nearly spits out his toast.
"I don't even wanna know," he says, and drags Chris out of the room.
SUNDAY 3 PM
"Hey."
Mark looks up. Eduardo's in the doorway, with his scarf still on. He'd had an advisor meeting at the bookstore, but he'd left all his books and shit here. Mark was happy about that. Not that he would admit it out loud.
"Hi," he says, and Eduardo collapses on his bed.
"Do you mind if I call someone?" he asks, pulling out his Blackberry, and Mark shakes his head, returning to his typing.
"Óla, mami," he says, voice thickening into the Portuguese, and Mark can't help it, he listens. He doesn't understand a fucking word, but it's objectively beautiful- all elongated vowels and swallowed syllables, dramatic in a way that probably makes "have a nice day" sound like some epic proclamation of love.
He swallows.
"Sim- sim, óla, pai-" and Eduardo's voice changes. He shifts on the bed and sits up, back going straight, and he stops talking and starts nodding a lot, adding "Sim. Sim, é verdade- por favor, pai-"
He hangs up after five minutes, and there's a long silence. Eduardo heaves a sigh, and flops back down, opening his book.
SUNDAY 4:15 PM
"Okay, describe the Engel curve. Just like generally."
"Well, it's very round. Very- uh, very curved."
"Idiot," Mark says, but he's grinning, and Eduardo's laughing breathlessly.
"Okay, fine. It describes how a consumer's purchase of a good varies as the consumer's total resources vary." He says this in a terrible cockney accent, and maybe it's the fact that Mark's left the room twice in the last thirty-six hours, or that it's actually hitting him that he has a steady supply of orgasms sitting across from him, giggling, but he starts laughing and he can't stop.
Eduardo rolls over onto his side, practically choking, and Mark collapses next to him.
Through teary eyes Mark briefly sees Dustin open the bedroom door, squint confusedly at them, and close it, and it just sets him off again.
SUNDAY 4:30 PM
They're lying, spent, on their sides, just looking at each other. Mark feels a little like they're in a scene from some terrible cheesy romantic comedy, but when Eduardo tips his chin up and kisses him, gently, square on the lips, Mark doesn't really give a shit.
It's the first time they've kissed like that- quiet, soft, for the most part close-mouthed- not a build-up to something else but something all by itself.
Eduardo cups Mark's jaw in his hand, feels the muscles working, and Mark shifts a leg between Eduardo's thighs, moves his hand up Eduardo's side, under his shirt.
Eduardo breaks away, and his grin is blinding.
SUNDAY 5:15 PM
They're all sprawled in various places in the common room- Dustin draped over a chair, tapping away at his laptop, Chris cross-legged on the floor. Mark is lying on his stomach on the couch while Eduardo straddles his desk chair, holding a notebook out in front of him, mumbling to himself.
"curve.. supply increases… they'd buy more… "
"What's like, an academic word for clusterfuck?" Chris asks thoughtfully, chewing on the end of his pencil.
Dustin snorts. "Why?"
"I wanna say, basically, the unfavorable conditions for Germany set out by the Treaty of Versailles as well as the power vacuum in Europe created a veritable clusterfuck of causes for the second World War, but like, minus the clusterfuck."
"Accumulation," Mark suggests.
"Uh, shitload," Dustin says unhelpfully.
"Maelstrom," Eduardo comes up with, and Dustin nods, smiling slightly maniacally, and writes it down. Mark shoots Eduardo a look.
"What? I took creative writing in high school. I can out-synonym any of you motherfuckers."
SUNDAY 6 PM
"Traditional Sunday night dinner?" Chris asks, looking up from his notebook, and there's ink all over his face. Dustin points and laughs.
"Sure," Mark says, rolling over and sitting up. "But stop saying it's a tradition, we've done it like three times."
"What is this?" Eduardo asks, amused. "You have roommate traditions? Do you also have matching outfits?"
"Whatever, lonely-ass single-liver," Dustin says, and Eduardo throws a pencil at him.
"It's just dinner," Mark says, going a little red.
"Dinner at which we discuss our weekends! And life goals and plans!" Dustin adds, still laughing, looking under the couch for the pencil.
"Where does this magical banquet of friendship take place?" Eduardo asks, and deflects the pencil which Dustin has found and, of course, thrown again.
"Ugh, y'all are going to take out an eye!" Chris says, standing up and batting the pencil onto the ground, and Dustin and Eduardo immediately start cracking up. Even Mark smiles.
"Whatever, Mom," Dustin says, "Really? Y'all?" and Chris slaps him upside the head.
SUNDAY 6:15 PM
"Wait, your 'special dinner' is just in the Kirkland d-hall? Really?"
"Shut up, bro. It's about togetherness."
"No, shut up, Dustin, it's about the fact that we're all on meal plan and it's too expensive to go out."
"Um, actually, shut up Chris, because you are going to get kicked out of this table of brotherly love if you don't zip it."
"Okay, guys, just shut the fuck up."
SUNDAY 6:30 PM
"I almost hooked up with three girls this weekend," Dustin says proudly, when Chris' rant about Bush had trickled off.
"Wait, let me check your math," Mark says, counting on his fingers. "Almost hooking up with three girls equals.. uh, not actually hooking up with anyone? Am I right?"
"Whatever, Mark."
Eduardo nods comfortingly at Dustin, but can't keep down his grin. Dustin flicks a pea at him.
Chris makes a vague noise of discomfort when it comes too close to him and Dustin says, "Oh I'm so soooorry, Christine, I wouldn't want to take out an eyeeee!"
Chris throws it back at him, and it hits him square in the face. "Ha!"
"Did you hear they scheduled Bill Gates? For this February?" Eduardo says, holding up peacemaker hands in between Dustin and Chris.
"That's tight," Dustin says, and points his fork at Mark. "You should march right up to him and explain why you didn't sell Synapse in high school. Spit in his eye. Yell, I LOVE APPLE! Steve Jobs is my hero!"
"Do not do any of that," Eduardo laughs.
SUNDAY 7:15 PM
"Do you guys seriously go out for ice cream after every bromantic dinner?" Eduardo asks, licking at his cone of butter pecan. "It's like thirty degrees out."
"Hell yes we do! Ice cream cones symbolize togetherness and friendship."
Mark snorts, and takes a bite of his mint chip. "Dustin just can't go three hours with an obscene amount of sugar in his veins."
"Where are we going next?" Eduardo asks, laughing. "Are we gonna go on the merry-go-round? Maybe the petting zoo?"
"Respect the process, jeez. You should feel lucky we're including you. I don't know if you've noticed, Wardo, but we're a pretty exclusive friend group…"
Mark snorts again, and shivers, and Eduardo wraps an arm around his shoulders.
"You cold?"
Mark shrugs, and Eduardo rubs his back. Behind him, he can see Dustin making a silent gesture of projectile vomiting. Mark flicks him off, and goes up on his toes in front of Eduardo and kisses him, lips cold from ice cream and chapped from wind. He pulls away and shoots a look at Dustin, while Eduardo, oblivious, mutters "ugh, butter pecan mint," wiping at his mouth with one hand.
SUNDAY 8 PM
Eduardo's sitting on the couch, econ book on his right thigh, Mark's head on his left. He has a hand in Mark's hair, sort of stroking absentmindedly, and Mark would usually shy away from this much physical contact, but the look on Dustin's face is too fucking good to pass up.
"God, I am so fucked for this midterm," Eduardo says dramatically, and Mark inhales when Eduardo's hand tightens in Mark's hair for a second. It feels good. He looks up at the elegant curve of Eduardo's mouth and really wants it on his cock. Eduardo looks down at him.
"You'll be fine, bro, just drink a bunch of Red Bull right before. That always helps for me in CS tests."
Mark laughs, and leaves his mouth open- licks his lips, and Eduardo mirrors him. Eduardo's thumb strokes the spot right behind his ear, and the hairs on his neck prickle.
Dustin, Mark remembers, and goes red. Yeah, it was funny before, but when it actually comes down to it, he doesn't want anyone to know about what they do. By themselves, or whatever. No, the time Eduardo spends on his knees with Mark's cock in his mouth are very private. And, uh, vice versa.
Except, Eduardo is still looking at him, eyes dark, fingernails softly scratching Mark's scalp, and he's going to need a pillow to cover his boner extremely soon.
He coughs, looking away, and pulls a blanket over him, artfully arranged for maximum camouflage. Eduardo laughs to himself, low in his throat.
SUNDAY 8:05 PM
"I have to go to the bathroom," Eduardo says, hand tightening briefly in Mark's hair for a second, and Mark waits about ten seconds after he leaves before he mumbles something unintelligible and scrambles after him. Dustin just waves them off, pressing the volume up on the remote.
He opens the door cautiously, and Eduardo already has his pants off. Okay, then.
"C'mere," Eduardo murmurs, grinning, and he pulls Mark towards him by the hips.
Mark slips his tongue in Eduardo's mouth and Eduardo practically lifts him up onto the counter, unzips his jeans.
"It's been, what, eight hours since you last came? We should really remedy that."
Mark nods frantically, and Eduardo takes his cock in hand, smoothes precome slickly over the length of it.
"Looking at me like you were gonna fucking die if I didn't blow you-" he says quietly, low in his throat, breathing hard, and puts his head down and his mouth around Mark.
Mark groans, and his knuckles go white gripping the cold marble countertop.
"Jesus, Jesus, Wardo-" he gasps, and Eduardo peels his fingers off of the countertop with one hand and puts them in his hair.
"Fuck my mouth," he says, and Mark shudders because did Eduardo really just say that? That's like, porn star shit. Mark closes his eyes and thrusts jerkily, hand cradling the back of Eduardo's head, feeling the delicate bones of his skull.
God, Eduardo's so wet, and so eager, and it hits Mark for the first time. This isn't just them getting off. Fuck, Eduardo likes him. Cares about him, enough to say shit like "fuck my mouth", and rub his back when he's cold, and bring him food.
He shakes, moans, trying to keep himself quiet, and comes.
Eduardo likes him enough to swallow.
SUNDAY 8:08 PM
He pushes Eduardo against the wall and drops to his knees.
"God, Mark," Eduardo whispers, and the hot hiss of his voice makes Mark grin around Eduardo's cock.
"God- I - Mark, I love - how you do that, Mark, fuck-" he stutters desperately, hands flexing on Mark's shoulders, and Mark notices the slip, goes hot, and sucks him in further.
Eduardo groans wordless then, low, and Mark strains to hear but all he can catch is his name, quiet and near-reverent.
SUNDAY 8:30 PM
Eduardo's putting on his shoes, wrapping a scarf around his neck, and Mark doesn't want him to leave.
Eduardo stands up, goes to the door, and Mark opens it for him, leaning awkwardly against the wall.
"Well," Eduardo starts, grinning, hoisting his backpack on his back, and Mark tries to smile back. It feels like something's ending, somehow, and he knows it's irrational. He hates being irrational, it's such a waste of time, and he's going to see Eduardo tomorrow, but still he hangs onto the door and bites his lip and looks down.
"Thanks," Eduardo says. "For, uh, for everything." His eyes crinkle in a smile, and Mark kisses him.
Eduardo laughs a little, and pulls Mark flush against him, half in the doorway, half out.
No one's even in the hall, but Mark really doesn't give a shit. He kisses Eduardo with everything he has, the extent of the weird desperation that's sprung out of his Sunday night malaise. That feeling that it'll never be exactly like this again.
Eduardo exhales, shocked, and gives as good as he gets.
SUNDAY 8:35 PM
"I really have to go," Eduardo says into Mark's mouth, and he pulls away, and Mark tightens the hand on the back of Eduardo's neck and pulls him into another kiss.
"Mark," he says gently, laughing, and Mark says, "I know."
"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
Mark nods.
Halfway down the hall, Eduardo turns back and waves, and for some reason Mark's scared. He waves back, and waits until Eduardo's around the corner before he closes the door, hard, and flops down on the couch. Chews his thumbnail for a second, then shrugs it off and sits down at his laptop.
FOUR YEARS LATER, SATURDAY, 1 AM
Dustin pokes his head into the office. Mark's somehow still upright, typing wearily away.
"You should leave soon," Dustin says, not wanting to push too hard. It's not like they really talk, much, anymore. Mark works and goes home and works and goes home.
Now, Mark just makes a vague grunting sound and waves Dustin away.
"Hey, Mark," Dustin says suddenly, nearly biting his lip to shut himself up, but whatever- "Do you remember that weekend?"
"No," Mark says, but he's looking up at Dustin, eyes carefully blank.
"When, uh, I got my fake ID," Dustin goes on, laughing a little to himself and of course Mark remembers- kissing Eduardo hot and wet in a bathroom, pressing against him in the warm thrum of the laundry room of Kirkland, pale fingers on tan hips in the shower, grinning at him over a sandwich, curling against his chest on their sofa, quizzing him until they were laughing so hard they couldn't speak anymore, digging his hands into Eduardo's hair and thrusting into his mouth, and then kissing, and kissing, and kissing, until Mark's lips actually hurt and he shuddered just from Eduardo breathing against them. His hands still on the keyboard, and he's suddenly so very exhausted. Of course he fucking remembers.
"Night, Mark," Dustin says gently, and closes the door.
If Mark were the type to cry, this would probably be when he'd cry. Instead he shuts down his computer and sits in the darkness, the humming of machines around him the only thing he hears other than his ragged breathing.
fin
portuguese!
sim- yes
pai - father
é verdade- yeah that's true (inexact translation lolol)
por favor - please (but c'mon we've all had second grade Spanish )