fic: as brothers we will stand
fic: as brothers we will stand
fandom: the social network
pairing: eduardo/mark, eduardo/mark/dustin, eduardo/dustin (i know right... stick with me!)
notes: for the tsn_kinkmeme prompt- Mark/Dustin/Eduardo, because seriously, what was Dustin doing rolling around on Mark's bed?
but then also, it got angsty. like, minimal-amount-of-dustin-banter angsty. IDEK, MAN.
title is from mumford and sons' "timshel" ("THIS WHOLE ALBUM IS SO MARK/EDUARDO, I CAN'T EVEN"- robin's jewnicorn fic)
and the MARK and DUSTIN- just wanted to indicate a POV shift without being awkward. idk man i wrote this all today.. lolol
MARK
It starts on a Friday night, when Mark comes back at 1am from a eight hour coding tear in the OS lab and finds Eduardo straddling Dustin on the couch. Eduardo's nosing up under his jaw, planting these sucking kisses that Mark knows from experience make you want to fuck him immediately. Dustin has his hands on Eduardo's ass, awkwardly, like he doesn't know exactly what's happening but he really, really likes it.
"What the fuck?" Mark says, dropping his backpack, and Eduardo pulls away, stays on Dustin's lap, cheeks flushed pink.
"Dude! He just jumped on me! I didn't do anything, I swear to God!" Dustin calls from under him, eyes wide and panicked, and Eduardo grins a little to himself and grinds his hips in a circle against Dustin's. Dustin squeaks.
"Wardo."
"What?" Eduardo asks, mock-innocently, and of course he's drunk off his ass. Eduardo gets unreasonably horny when he's wasted. Mark should have guessed he'd just start humping the nearest object.
"God, you're drunk."
"Fuck yeah I'm drunk," Eduardo says proudly, and he kisses Dustin hot and wet. Dustin cringes away for a second, terrified of Mark's wrath, but Eduardo persists until he opens his mouth and Eduardo tongues him hard. Dustin moans a little, and his eyes pop open and lock in on Mark.
Mark's exhausted and starving and way too sober, and he's so lightheaded. From the coding. Yeah, that must be why he's swaying a little, why he can't look away.
"W- Eduardo. Come on."
"Mark, let's stay here. Let's. Let's stay, Mark."
"Okay, Dustin, seriously-" he strides over to them and yanks Eduardo off of him. Eduardo falls on his back on the couch, giggling, lips bruised looking and wet.
"Mark, don't be such a baby," he slurs, rubbing the arch of his foot against Dustin's cock. Mark shoots a withering look at it, and Dustin puts his hands over his crotch like just Mark's gaze can totally deflate his obvious hard-on.
"Sorry!" he says, going red, and Mark just narrows his eyes at him.
"There is nothing. To be sorry for! Nothing!" Eduardo proclaims, trying to fight Mark. He keeps missing in his lazy, uncoordinated punches. Mark gets his arms around Eduardo's waist, tries to lift him, and Eduardo suddenly becomes a lot more alert- pulls Mark down on top of him.
"Wardo!" Mark squeals, and Eduardo grips him by the ass, moves his hips slowly, deliberately against him, licks delicately at his collarbone. Dustin's completely silent, and Mark can see over Eduardo's shoulder, he's staring, mouth a little open, breath coming in fast little pants.
"Mm, Mark, you wanna fuck me right here? Let's just fuck right here," Eduardo says, warm and slurred and Mark cannot he cannot get hard right now, with Dustin right there. Just, no.
"No. Wardo. You need- you need to sleep."
"You can if you want," Dustin suggests hopefully, a little drunk himself, and Mark shoots him another look.
"Shut the fuck up, Dustin. Eduardo, just- just go into my room. C'mon."
He manages to yank Eduardo up, off the couch, and he stumbles in and collapses onto Mark's bed, asleep within seconds. Mark stands over him for a second, breathing hard. Eduardo's fucking heavy for such a skinny guy.
He swallows hard. It takes a long time for him to fall asleep, and he really wants to give in and wrap his hand around his cock, but that would be letting Wardo win.
"I'm not going to let you win," he whispers inanely to Eduardo, who doesn't even stir.
From outside, he can hear Dustin groaning, jerking himself off.
---
Of course, it only takes three days for Eduardo to begin his attack anew. Mark's walking to art history, because he should go to at least one class this semester, when his phone rings.
"What's up, Wardo."
"Hey, could you pick up a six-pack of Natty on the way back?"
"I don't have my fake on me."
"You know Campus never checks, just don't be a pussy."
"Fine."
"Oh, and when you get back I was thinking about letting you fuck me."
Mark swallows some spit the wrong way and starts coughing, frantically. "What the fuck, Wardo, god-"
"Yeah, I want to suck Dustin's cock while you fuck me. You up for that, Mark?" And Mark is so not fucking up for that, but Eduardo's voice is smooth and composed and teasing, and Mark's getting hard. He's getting hard in the fucking hallway outside the Art History classroom.
"Wardo, I thought we agreed about him-"
"You agreed. I want to give him a blow job. C'mon, Mark, he deserves it. Having to put up with how loud you get when you're about to come-"
"Wardo-"
"- and I always scream when you finger me-"
"Fuck, seriously, stop!"
Eduardo laughs.
"You know where I am right now, don't you," Mark says flatly.
"Yeah. I do."
"You are such a dick."
"You should hurry," Eduardo says, silky, and Mark squeezes his eyes shut, willing his dick down. "If you're too late, Dustin'll already be fucking me."
"Jesus, Wardo."
Eduardo laughs, says, "have fun in art history," and hangs up. Mark swallows hard. That asshole.
So, yeah, maybe, Eduardo wins. That night, and the next night, and the weekend after that. Dustin's incredulous and terrified and hilariously grateful, and Mark can't find it in him to feel jealous when Dustin's gasping out sharp little pants as Eduardo sucks him off. He knows how it feels. It's fucking hard to not be overcome.
Eduardo wins so much that somehow, two weeks later, Mark's instructing Dustin in the fine art of fingering him. Eduardo's wet, legs spread, and Dustin is wide-eyed with two fingers in him.
"Just- just move it a little further," Mark says, studying Eduardo's face, and Dustin does so, gingerly, and Eduardo lets out a whimper. "Yeah, yeah. You just hit it, you- you feel it? Press against it. Again."
Dustin nods and does it, and Eduardo's head falls back against the pillow, chest flushed, neck glistening with sweat. Mark is so fucking hard.
"Like that?" Dustin says, and Eduardo nods frantically.
"Yeah, yeah, but- faster," Mark says, breath speeding up, palming himself through his boxers, and Dustin thrusts his fingers out and then in again, setting a rhythm.
"Yeah- fuck, yes. He- he likes it if you- twist, your fingers, yes, like that, Jesus-" Eduardo's groaning low in his throat, eyes fixed on Mark's, and Mark's rubbing himself harder because he might actually die if they keep this up.
Dustin exhales hard, keeps thrusting his fingers, and Eduardo reaches out with one trembling hand, takes Mark's other hand and puts it on Dustin's cock.
"Touch him," he gasps, and Mark closes his eyes and squeezes. Dustin nearly shouts.
"Keep - keep with the fingers, though, Dustin," Mark says, and Dustin nods. They're silent then, just a mess of grunts and harsh breath, until Eduardo comes first, and Dustin follows with a high-pitched whimper. Eduardo pulls Mark down towards him on the bed, finishes him off.
"Jesus Christ," Eduardo gasps, like he's shocked at the awesomeness of the sex he facilitated.
"Yeah," Dustin agrees, and flops beside them. Eduardo kisses Mark quietly, softly, grins against his neck.
Mark just exhales, closes his eyes.
That's sort of how it goes, after that. Sometimes they're alone, still, and Eduardo still kisses him gently in the mornings, rubs his back, brings him food- it's just that, sometimes, Dustin's there too. Once he just watches, breathing fast, while they have sex. Watches from Mark's office chair, and at first Mark feels the prickle of his gaze, feels hot and uncomfortable, but Eduardo rolls his hips and brings him in deeper, clenches around him, and Mark mostly forgets Dustin is there.
Of course, then they meet Sean, and it all goes to shit.
DUSTIN
Mark and Eduardo break up, in a way, right after they meet Sean. Something changes between them, at least, and Dustin stops sleeping in their bed. Eduardo doesn't come over as often, spends more nights with Christy, and before he knows it they're on a plane to Palo Alto and Eduardo's not with them.
He sneaks a glance at Mark. His eyes are closed, and Dustin can see his pulse beating underneath his pale skin. He's gotten skinnier since - since Sean, or since whatever happened.
It's not that bad, Dustin reasons then. It's just a summer. Eduardo'll come out eventually.
Except the weekends he comes out, it's stilted and awkward, and they don't look at each other, just talk about the Wall or tagging or whatever, until Dustin wants to bring them together somehow, be the glue between them. He never was, at Harvard. It was always Eduardo who convinced Mark to let Dustin join them, those weekend nights when they were drunk and grinning, and even Mark would crack a smile.
In the middle of July, it's sticky hot in Palo Alto, and Eduardo comes in for a weekend. It's a particularly bad one, where Mark barely surfaces from the code the entire time, and Sean makes cutting comments left and right until Dustin can practically see Eduardo's fist twitching, itching to hit him. Dustin knows the feeling.
Maybe that's why he's not all that surprised when Eduardo stumbles into his room, fifth or sixth beer clutched in his hand, at three-ish that night.
Dustin sits up, lets Eduardo crawl over him, kiss him, desperate and hungry and wanting, and Dustin feels vaguely out-of-place, but tries to put it out of his mind and enjoy it.
"You want to fuck?" Eduardo asks, voice rough, and pulls down his pants. Dustin arches up and kisses him again, and Eduardo fumbles for a packet of lube in his back pocket.
"You- you-" Dustin pants, when Eduardo pushes down his sweatpants and sucks the tip of his cock, and Eduardo raises his head, murmurs, "Shut up," and lowers it again, then slicks on lube, slides himself down onto Dustin's cock.
Dustin's getting into it- it's been a month or so since he fucked anyone, and Eduardo's a really really good lay regardless, when he hears the knock.
"Dustin! I - I came up with something. You have to come downstairs."
Eduardo freezes, panting, Dustin still inside him. Dustin motions for him to get off, and grabs for his sweatpants, hands jittering.
"Dustin!"
"Yeah! Yeah, I'm coming!" Dustin says, voice high and panicky. Eduardo's crouching behind the bed, reaching for his pants, when the door opens.
"Dustin, come on," Mark says, chewing on a Red Vine, light illuminating him in the doorway, and Dustin nods, still sweating, heart pounding.
He comes back in half an hour later, and Eduardo's lying on his back on his bed, eyes wide open, hands on his stomach.
"Hey," Dustin says cautiously.
"I'm sorry for doing that," Eduardo says in response, voice carefully flat. "We shouldn't have- I'm sorry."
Dustin doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what to say. Sometimes he feels like he doesn't know Eduardo at all.
"I thought that us fucking was the same thing as him being in love with me," Eduardo says, and laughs bitterly to himself. "It's really, really not."
"Mark's an idiot," Dustin says roughly. Mark doesn't deserve someone like Eduardo.
Eduardo just laughs again, choky-sounding, and Dustin crawls back into the bed. Eduardo clutches at him, more desperate than sexual, and Dustin puts his arms around Eduardo's shoulders.
"It's gonna be okay," Dustin says, and Eduardo nods against his shoulder.
"It's just the summer. Right? It's just the summer," Dustin asks, Eduardo or himself, he's not sure.
Eduardo just huffs out a breath against his neck, wriggles a little closer. They fall asleep like that, Dustin breathing carefully like he'll break Eduardo if he makes any sudden movements.
In the morning, they're on opposite sides of the bed, and Dustin tries not to see it as an omen. Eduardo wakes up before him, and Dustin looks up to see him buttoning his shirt, running a hand through his hair. He still looks a total mess.
"When's your flight?" Dustin says sleepily, and Eduardo stands up.
"Not till one. I think he has a couple things I'm supposed to sign."
"I don't know," Dustin says, yawning, stumbling up. Eduardo slips out of the door with a nod to Dustin, and it's a terribly short ten seconds before Mark comes in, stares at the disheveled bed. Dustin is 80% sure he saw Eduardo leaving, but he just stares at Dustin, icy and detached, and leaves again. Dustin swallows convulsively, scratching at his arm nervously. This whole fucking thing is such a clusterfuck.
---
Everything feels better when Thiel makes an angel investment. Dustin lets himself breathe easier, until he's staring down at a contract that even he knows is a thinly-disguised death sentence. Eduardo Saverin, it says at the top. Dustin cocks his head in confusion.
"Wait - this- this isn't the right one," Mark says, grabbing the stack of papers out of Dustin's hand. The lawyers watch, silent.
"What? What- those were for Eduardo?"
Mark doesn't say anything, just puts the stack straight, clips them carefully, face pale.
"Mark."
He doesn't look up.
"Mark, what are you- fuck, Mark, you can't do this."
"Shut up, Dustin," Mark says tightly, and Dustin grabs him by the arm, drags him outside the office.
"You can't, Mark!" Mark grabs his wrist, fingernails digging in. He never touches Dustin, not anymore. It's- it's serious.
"Listen," he hisses. "It's happening. If you say one word to him- one goddamn word, you're gone. Do you understand?"
Dustin stares at him. His arm's starting to hurt.
"Mark-"
"Dustin. This is about the company. It's my decision. It's been made."
"You're gonna kill him," Dustin says softly, scared, and Mark's face crumples for a second, wide and vulnerable, before it snaps back into place. Dustin shivers. He reminds him of a snake, or something, when he gets like this. It's creepy.
"I told you, this is about Facebook- the lag time is unacceptable, the fact that he froze the account was just a symptom of a bigger problem-"
"Mark. Mark! You're going to fucking kill him."
Mark lets go of his wrist, avoids his eyes. "This is about the company. If Eduardo can't separate his personal feelings from Facebook, that's his problem."
"You don't even fucking believe that yourself, you coward. You're fucking shaking."
Mark is trembling, a minute jittering in his fingers, swallowing hard.
"Dustin-" he says, and has to cough. "Dustin. This is happening. If- if you want to stay with the company, you know what to do."
Dustin laughs bitterly. "You're such a fucking idiot, Mark. Go ahead and fire me for that if you want, I don't even care. You're an idiot."
Mark walks away, and Dustin watches him through blurry eyes.
---
Eduardo waves at him from the office a week later, grinning, and Dustin smiles uneasily back, hating himself. Eduardo insists on taking Chris and Dustin out for a drink, and Dustin gets really wasted and tries to ignore the worry lurking beneath Eduardo's bright airy grin. Tries to drown the fact that he is the world's worst friend and person.
He collapses in his bed that night, drunk. His head's spinning, and he feels prickly, skin buzzing all over, practically thrumming. He can't stop picturing it, vividly, one of the nights they'd fucked. When Mark had let Dustin fuck Eduardo and Eduardo had laughed his way through it, joyfully, and they'd both come hard, and Dustin had tentatively jerked Mark off while Eduardo kissed him and they'd collapsed on the bed together, for once not jealous or awkward or torn up over petty shit. Just them- a little drunk, and coming down from orgasm, and touching each other comfortably. Eduardo had started rambling about his calculus TA and how he was definitely dealing Adderall on the side, and Mark had inserted quippy little asides, and Dustin had just laughed giddily, feeling weirdly lucky.
Dustin tries to jerk off, but he's too drunk. He lifts his hand instead, to his face, and rolls over onto his stomach and sobs, once or twice, dry into the pillow.
---
A week later, he cringes when he sees Eduardo storming towards Mark, knows what's going to happen.
The shitty truth of it is that it's over. They worked alright, for a while, the three of them, and now the threesome is Dustin and Mark and Facebook. Eduardo's been cut away, and maybe he's been realizing it all summer, but watching him smash a laptop, cry out- "you set me up!"- Dustin realizes he had no idea what Mark was really capable of. He looks at Mark, who's exhaling shakily, scared and defiant all at once, and it hits him like a punch in the gut- Mark didn't really have any idea either.
FIN
fandom: the social network
pairing: eduardo/mark, eduardo/mark/dustin, eduardo/dustin (i know right... stick with me!)
notes: for the tsn_kinkmeme prompt- Mark/Dustin/Eduardo, because seriously, what was Dustin doing rolling around on Mark's bed?
but then also, it got angsty. like, minimal-amount-of-dustin-banter angsty. IDEK, MAN.
title is from mumford and sons' "timshel" ("THIS WHOLE ALBUM IS SO MARK/EDUARDO, I CAN'T EVEN"- robin's jewnicorn fic)
and the MARK and DUSTIN- just wanted to indicate a POV shift without being awkward. idk man i wrote this all today.. lolol
MARK
It starts on a Friday night, when Mark comes back at 1am from a eight hour coding tear in the OS lab and finds Eduardo straddling Dustin on the couch. Eduardo's nosing up under his jaw, planting these sucking kisses that Mark knows from experience make you want to fuck him immediately. Dustin has his hands on Eduardo's ass, awkwardly, like he doesn't know exactly what's happening but he really, really likes it.
"What the fuck?" Mark says, dropping his backpack, and Eduardo pulls away, stays on Dustin's lap, cheeks flushed pink.
"Dude! He just jumped on me! I didn't do anything, I swear to God!" Dustin calls from under him, eyes wide and panicked, and Eduardo grins a little to himself and grinds his hips in a circle against Dustin's. Dustin squeaks.
"Wardo."
"What?" Eduardo asks, mock-innocently, and of course he's drunk off his ass. Eduardo gets unreasonably horny when he's wasted. Mark should have guessed he'd just start humping the nearest object.
"God, you're drunk."
"Fuck yeah I'm drunk," Eduardo says proudly, and he kisses Dustin hot and wet. Dustin cringes away for a second, terrified of Mark's wrath, but Eduardo persists until he opens his mouth and Eduardo tongues him hard. Dustin moans a little, and his eyes pop open and lock in on Mark.
Mark's exhausted and starving and way too sober, and he's so lightheaded. From the coding. Yeah, that must be why he's swaying a little, why he can't look away.
"W- Eduardo. Come on."
"Mark, let's stay here. Let's. Let's stay, Mark."
"Okay, Dustin, seriously-" he strides over to them and yanks Eduardo off of him. Eduardo falls on his back on the couch, giggling, lips bruised looking and wet.
"Mark, don't be such a baby," he slurs, rubbing the arch of his foot against Dustin's cock. Mark shoots a withering look at it, and Dustin puts his hands over his crotch like just Mark's gaze can totally deflate his obvious hard-on.
"Sorry!" he says, going red, and Mark just narrows his eyes at him.
"There is nothing. To be sorry for! Nothing!" Eduardo proclaims, trying to fight Mark. He keeps missing in his lazy, uncoordinated punches. Mark gets his arms around Eduardo's waist, tries to lift him, and Eduardo suddenly becomes a lot more alert- pulls Mark down on top of him.
"Wardo!" Mark squeals, and Eduardo grips him by the ass, moves his hips slowly, deliberately against him, licks delicately at his collarbone. Dustin's completely silent, and Mark can see over Eduardo's shoulder, he's staring, mouth a little open, breath coming in fast little pants.
"Mm, Mark, you wanna fuck me right here? Let's just fuck right here," Eduardo says, warm and slurred and Mark cannot he cannot get hard right now, with Dustin right there. Just, no.
"No. Wardo. You need- you need to sleep."
"You can if you want," Dustin suggests hopefully, a little drunk himself, and Mark shoots him another look.
"Shut the fuck up, Dustin. Eduardo, just- just go into my room. C'mon."
He manages to yank Eduardo up, off the couch, and he stumbles in and collapses onto Mark's bed, asleep within seconds. Mark stands over him for a second, breathing hard. Eduardo's fucking heavy for such a skinny guy.
He swallows hard. It takes a long time for him to fall asleep, and he really wants to give in and wrap his hand around his cock, but that would be letting Wardo win.
"I'm not going to let you win," he whispers inanely to Eduardo, who doesn't even stir.
From outside, he can hear Dustin groaning, jerking himself off.
---
Of course, it only takes three days for Eduardo to begin his attack anew. Mark's walking to art history, because he should go to at least one class this semester, when his phone rings.
"What's up, Wardo."
"Hey, could you pick up a six-pack of Natty on the way back?"
"I don't have my fake on me."
"You know Campus never checks, just don't be a pussy."
"Fine."
"Oh, and when you get back I was thinking about letting you fuck me."
Mark swallows some spit the wrong way and starts coughing, frantically. "What the fuck, Wardo, god-"
"Yeah, I want to suck Dustin's cock while you fuck me. You up for that, Mark?" And Mark is so not fucking up for that, but Eduardo's voice is smooth and composed and teasing, and Mark's getting hard. He's getting hard in the fucking hallway outside the Art History classroom.
"Wardo, I thought we agreed about him-"
"You agreed. I want to give him a blow job. C'mon, Mark, he deserves it. Having to put up with how loud you get when you're about to come-"
"Wardo-"
"- and I always scream when you finger me-"
"Fuck, seriously, stop!"
Eduardo laughs.
"You know where I am right now, don't you," Mark says flatly.
"Yeah. I do."
"You are such a dick."
"You should hurry," Eduardo says, silky, and Mark squeezes his eyes shut, willing his dick down. "If you're too late, Dustin'll already be fucking me."
"Jesus, Wardo."
Eduardo laughs, says, "have fun in art history," and hangs up. Mark swallows hard. That asshole.
So, yeah, maybe, Eduardo wins. That night, and the next night, and the weekend after that. Dustin's incredulous and terrified and hilariously grateful, and Mark can't find it in him to feel jealous when Dustin's gasping out sharp little pants as Eduardo sucks him off. He knows how it feels. It's fucking hard to not be overcome.
Eduardo wins so much that somehow, two weeks later, Mark's instructing Dustin in the fine art of fingering him. Eduardo's wet, legs spread, and Dustin is wide-eyed with two fingers in him.
"Just- just move it a little further," Mark says, studying Eduardo's face, and Dustin does so, gingerly, and Eduardo lets out a whimper. "Yeah, yeah. You just hit it, you- you feel it? Press against it. Again."
Dustin nods and does it, and Eduardo's head falls back against the pillow, chest flushed, neck glistening with sweat. Mark is so fucking hard.
"Like that?" Dustin says, and Eduardo nods frantically.
"Yeah, yeah, but- faster," Mark says, breath speeding up, palming himself through his boxers, and Dustin thrusts his fingers out and then in again, setting a rhythm.
"Yeah- fuck, yes. He- he likes it if you- twist, your fingers, yes, like that, Jesus-" Eduardo's groaning low in his throat, eyes fixed on Mark's, and Mark's rubbing himself harder because he might actually die if they keep this up.
Dustin exhales hard, keeps thrusting his fingers, and Eduardo reaches out with one trembling hand, takes Mark's other hand and puts it on Dustin's cock.
"Touch him," he gasps, and Mark closes his eyes and squeezes. Dustin nearly shouts.
"Keep - keep with the fingers, though, Dustin," Mark says, and Dustin nods. They're silent then, just a mess of grunts and harsh breath, until Eduardo comes first, and Dustin follows with a high-pitched whimper. Eduardo pulls Mark down towards him on the bed, finishes him off.
"Jesus Christ," Eduardo gasps, like he's shocked at the awesomeness of the sex he facilitated.
"Yeah," Dustin agrees, and flops beside them. Eduardo kisses Mark quietly, softly, grins against his neck.
Mark just exhales, closes his eyes.
That's sort of how it goes, after that. Sometimes they're alone, still, and Eduardo still kisses him gently in the mornings, rubs his back, brings him food- it's just that, sometimes, Dustin's there too. Once he just watches, breathing fast, while they have sex. Watches from Mark's office chair, and at first Mark feels the prickle of his gaze, feels hot and uncomfortable, but Eduardo rolls his hips and brings him in deeper, clenches around him, and Mark mostly forgets Dustin is there.
Of course, then they meet Sean, and it all goes to shit.
DUSTIN
Mark and Eduardo break up, in a way, right after they meet Sean. Something changes between them, at least, and Dustin stops sleeping in their bed. Eduardo doesn't come over as often, spends more nights with Christy, and before he knows it they're on a plane to Palo Alto and Eduardo's not with them.
He sneaks a glance at Mark. His eyes are closed, and Dustin can see his pulse beating underneath his pale skin. He's gotten skinnier since - since Sean, or since whatever happened.
It's not that bad, Dustin reasons then. It's just a summer. Eduardo'll come out eventually.
Except the weekends he comes out, it's stilted and awkward, and they don't look at each other, just talk about the Wall or tagging or whatever, until Dustin wants to bring them together somehow, be the glue between them. He never was, at Harvard. It was always Eduardo who convinced Mark to let Dustin join them, those weekend nights when they were drunk and grinning, and even Mark would crack a smile.
In the middle of July, it's sticky hot in Palo Alto, and Eduardo comes in for a weekend. It's a particularly bad one, where Mark barely surfaces from the code the entire time, and Sean makes cutting comments left and right until Dustin can practically see Eduardo's fist twitching, itching to hit him. Dustin knows the feeling.
Maybe that's why he's not all that surprised when Eduardo stumbles into his room, fifth or sixth beer clutched in his hand, at three-ish that night.
Dustin sits up, lets Eduardo crawl over him, kiss him, desperate and hungry and wanting, and Dustin feels vaguely out-of-place, but tries to put it out of his mind and enjoy it.
"You want to fuck?" Eduardo asks, voice rough, and pulls down his pants. Dustin arches up and kisses him again, and Eduardo fumbles for a packet of lube in his back pocket.
"You- you-" Dustin pants, when Eduardo pushes down his sweatpants and sucks the tip of his cock, and Eduardo raises his head, murmurs, "Shut up," and lowers it again, then slicks on lube, slides himself down onto Dustin's cock.
Dustin's getting into it- it's been a month or so since he fucked anyone, and Eduardo's a really really good lay regardless, when he hears the knock.
"Dustin! I - I came up with something. You have to come downstairs."
Eduardo freezes, panting, Dustin still inside him. Dustin motions for him to get off, and grabs for his sweatpants, hands jittering.
"Dustin!"
"Yeah! Yeah, I'm coming!" Dustin says, voice high and panicky. Eduardo's crouching behind the bed, reaching for his pants, when the door opens.
"Dustin, come on," Mark says, chewing on a Red Vine, light illuminating him in the doorway, and Dustin nods, still sweating, heart pounding.
He comes back in half an hour later, and Eduardo's lying on his back on his bed, eyes wide open, hands on his stomach.
"Hey," Dustin says cautiously.
"I'm sorry for doing that," Eduardo says in response, voice carefully flat. "We shouldn't have- I'm sorry."
Dustin doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what to say. Sometimes he feels like he doesn't know Eduardo at all.
"I thought that us fucking was the same thing as him being in love with me," Eduardo says, and laughs bitterly to himself. "It's really, really not."
"Mark's an idiot," Dustin says roughly. Mark doesn't deserve someone like Eduardo.
Eduardo just laughs again, choky-sounding, and Dustin crawls back into the bed. Eduardo clutches at him, more desperate than sexual, and Dustin puts his arms around Eduardo's shoulders.
"It's gonna be okay," Dustin says, and Eduardo nods against his shoulder.
"It's just the summer. Right? It's just the summer," Dustin asks, Eduardo or himself, he's not sure.
Eduardo just huffs out a breath against his neck, wriggles a little closer. They fall asleep like that, Dustin breathing carefully like he'll break Eduardo if he makes any sudden movements.
In the morning, they're on opposite sides of the bed, and Dustin tries not to see it as an omen. Eduardo wakes up before him, and Dustin looks up to see him buttoning his shirt, running a hand through his hair. He still looks a total mess.
"When's your flight?" Dustin says sleepily, and Eduardo stands up.
"Not till one. I think he has a couple things I'm supposed to sign."
"I don't know," Dustin says, yawning, stumbling up. Eduardo slips out of the door with a nod to Dustin, and it's a terribly short ten seconds before Mark comes in, stares at the disheveled bed. Dustin is 80% sure he saw Eduardo leaving, but he just stares at Dustin, icy and detached, and leaves again. Dustin swallows convulsively, scratching at his arm nervously. This whole fucking thing is such a clusterfuck.
---
Everything feels better when Thiel makes an angel investment. Dustin lets himself breathe easier, until he's staring down at a contract that even he knows is a thinly-disguised death sentence. Eduardo Saverin, it says at the top. Dustin cocks his head in confusion.
"Wait - this- this isn't the right one," Mark says, grabbing the stack of papers out of Dustin's hand. The lawyers watch, silent.
"What? What- those were for Eduardo?"
Mark doesn't say anything, just puts the stack straight, clips them carefully, face pale.
"Mark."
He doesn't look up.
"Mark, what are you- fuck, Mark, you can't do this."
"Shut up, Dustin," Mark says tightly, and Dustin grabs him by the arm, drags him outside the office.
"You can't, Mark!" Mark grabs his wrist, fingernails digging in. He never touches Dustin, not anymore. It's- it's serious.
"Listen," he hisses. "It's happening. If you say one word to him- one goddamn word, you're gone. Do you understand?"
Dustin stares at him. His arm's starting to hurt.
"Mark-"
"Dustin. This is about the company. It's my decision. It's been made."
"You're gonna kill him," Dustin says softly, scared, and Mark's face crumples for a second, wide and vulnerable, before it snaps back into place. Dustin shivers. He reminds him of a snake, or something, when he gets like this. It's creepy.
"I told you, this is about Facebook- the lag time is unacceptable, the fact that he froze the account was just a symptom of a bigger problem-"
"Mark. Mark! You're going to fucking kill him."
Mark lets go of his wrist, avoids his eyes. "This is about the company. If Eduardo can't separate his personal feelings from Facebook, that's his problem."
"You don't even fucking believe that yourself, you coward. You're fucking shaking."
Mark is trembling, a minute jittering in his fingers, swallowing hard.
"Dustin-" he says, and has to cough. "Dustin. This is happening. If- if you want to stay with the company, you know what to do."
Dustin laughs bitterly. "You're such a fucking idiot, Mark. Go ahead and fire me for that if you want, I don't even care. You're an idiot."
Mark walks away, and Dustin watches him through blurry eyes.
---
Eduardo waves at him from the office a week later, grinning, and Dustin smiles uneasily back, hating himself. Eduardo insists on taking Chris and Dustin out for a drink, and Dustin gets really wasted and tries to ignore the worry lurking beneath Eduardo's bright airy grin. Tries to drown the fact that he is the world's worst friend and person.
He collapses in his bed that night, drunk. His head's spinning, and he feels prickly, skin buzzing all over, practically thrumming. He can't stop picturing it, vividly, one of the nights they'd fucked. When Mark had let Dustin fuck Eduardo and Eduardo had laughed his way through it, joyfully, and they'd both come hard, and Dustin had tentatively jerked Mark off while Eduardo kissed him and they'd collapsed on the bed together, for once not jealous or awkward or torn up over petty shit. Just them- a little drunk, and coming down from orgasm, and touching each other comfortably. Eduardo had started rambling about his calculus TA and how he was definitely dealing Adderall on the side, and Mark had inserted quippy little asides, and Dustin had just laughed giddily, feeling weirdly lucky.
Dustin tries to jerk off, but he's too drunk. He lifts his hand instead, to his face, and rolls over onto his stomach and sobs, once or twice, dry into the pillow.
---
A week later, he cringes when he sees Eduardo storming towards Mark, knows what's going to happen.
The shitty truth of it is that it's over. They worked alright, for a while, the three of them, and now the threesome is Dustin and Mark and Facebook. Eduardo's been cut away, and maybe he's been realizing it all summer, but watching him smash a laptop, cry out- "you set me up!"- Dustin realizes he had no idea what Mark was really capable of. He looks at Mark, who's exhaling shakily, scared and defiant all at once, and it hits him like a punch in the gut- Mark didn't really have any idea either.
FIN