DRABBLES PART 2: ANGST! (four ficlettes)
so yeah! i wrote a lot of stuff for the tsn_kinkmeme and now i am posting it in themed sets of ficlettes! that rhymed!
fandom: the social network
notes: too lazy to type out the actual verbatim prompts. meh. rating is mature for all.
ANGST ONE
pairing: eduardo/sean (sort of)
notes: for the eduardo-is-a-high-class-escort prompt. alex is wardo's "manager".
---
There's a tap on his shoulder, and when he turns he sees Sean Parker.
Well, fuck.
Sean sits at the bar and grins at him.
"Eduardo fucking Saverin. I honestly never thought I would see you here."
"I can completely imagine you being here," Eduardo replies sharply. There's something about Sean that will always needle him. Probably the bleached-white smile. He wants to knock it out.
"Thank God you're not still a part of Facebook," Sean drawls. "This would be a real scandal."
Eduardo bites his lip to keep himself quiet. In two minutes, the graying man talking in the corner will tap him on the shoulder. Alex had told him that. All he needs is to bore Sean into leaving.
Sean orders a drink - a 7 and 7, and takes a long, dragging sip from it.
"Can I get you something?" he asks Eduardo, still grinning infuriatingly.
"I actually need to go," Eduardo says, standing, and over Sean's shoulder he sees Alex narrow his eyes and shake his head at him. He sits again.
"Not gonna partake in the fun stuff?"
"I don't know what you're referring to," Eduardo says tightly, playing dumb.
"Come on, Wardo-"
"Don't."
"- you gotta know the deal here. The party's for whores and the rich businessmen who love them. Now, come on. Let's choose. What do you want? Pussy or ass?"
"Shut the fuck up, Sean," Eduardo says, and the man's approaching, Alex beside him. Shit, shit, shit.
"Hello," Alex says smoothly to Sean. "I see you've met Cristián." Eduardo winces.
"No," Sean says slowly, eyes darting between them, and an incredulous smile spreads over his face. "I haven't really gotten to know - Cristián."
"Well, he's going to talk with Mr. Johnson right now, but if you'd like to speak with him after-"
"I'm so sorry, I actually must go," Mr. Johnson says suddenly, looking up from his BlackBerry. "Bit of an emergency at the office."
Alex recovers quickly, and nods.
"Mr. Parker, he's all yours."
What Eduardo is supposed to do now is let the man buy him a drink, lead him into one of the private, soundproof rooms located off the outside hallway, and do whatever the man wants.
But it's Sean. It's Sean, staring at him like he can't believe his own luck, and Eduardo's shaking.
"Alex, I actually-"
Alex shoots him a look that says clearly, shut up.
Eduardo shuts up, and too soon, they're alone.
"Well," Sean says, stretching it out through his teeth. "I thought there was nothing more surprising than Eduardo Saverin partaking in carnal pleasures. I guess I was wrong."
"Fuck off, Sean."
"Oh, I'd much rather just fuck, Cristián. I'm good for it. I don't know if you knew, but I actually own about 7% of a pretty big company- it's called Facebook?"
Eduardo grits his teeth. "I'm leaving."
Sean stands up with him, grabs his arm.
"Come on, Eduardo. You'd rather fuck me than some wrinkled old man. And I'll go nice and slow, not that you need it, I'm guessing."
Eduardo jerks away.
"You wouldn't want Mark to find out about this, would you?"
Eduardo freezes, heart pounding suddenly.
"No, you wouldn't. Who knows what he'd do. What he'd think. Poor Eduardo, just a Silicon Valley slut now."
Eduardo shakes his head, and Sean strokes his arm and his skin prickles.
"God, look how far you've fallen. Did you even graduate from Harvard?"
Eduardo draws in a ragged breath, and says, "The room's this way."
------------------------------
ANGST TWO
pairing: mark/eduardo
notes: for the prompt about eduardo and mark on their last night, the night after eduardo signed the papers.
---
Mark's apartment is nice.
"Sean set you up with this?" Eduardo asks, grabbing two beers from the massive fridge.
"Yeah. I- I don't spend much time here, but it's nice."
Eduardo laughs and sprawls on Mark's uncomfortable couch, long limbs everywhere.
"God, it's hard to believe, isn't it?"
Mark nods.
"It's, uh, it's gonna be amazing," he says, coughing. His throat's dry, and Eduardo frowns and hands him a beer. Mark takes it silently.
"This is- this is everything- you know? From the beginning! This is what we've wanted, Christ, since that first night-" he breaks off and laughs, shaking his head, takes another sip of his beer.
Mark stares at him. It hurts more than he thought it would, to watch Eduardo screw himself out of Facebook. Sean convinced him it would be easy, because Eduardo is a drag on the company- an expense they can't afford, an influence they don't want. It's true, but Eduardo's also his friend.
That never meant much. It didn't factor in when he said we need more money and this is bad, Wardo, this is scathing- but now all the bullshit Sean's been feeding him for a summer is coming to a head. Now it's over. He'll probably never see Eduardo again. Not like this.
"Mark? You okay?"
Mark nods jerkily, and flops down on the couch next to Eduardo.
"Just, nervous," he says quietly, and Eduardo slings an arm around his shoulders.
"Relax," he says, and Mark bites his lip.
"This is a good thing. I know what you're doing! You worry about ads, you always have, but this- this is going to be good. They won't mess it up. I know, this summer I - well, I floated a couple of shitty ideas, I guess I can admit that now, but that's behind us-"
Mark nods, flicking his eyes up to Eduardo's, shoulders stiff under his arm. Isn't it obvious, his guilt? Pouring out of him? He doesn't usually think about shit like this, about how he appears to other people. But all he can think is- can Eduardo tell, does he hate me, well, he will soon enough, this is the last night we'll ever be like this-
Eduardo grins obliviously at him, warm and open like he did at Harvard.
"Mark," he murmurs, voice soft. "We did it."
Mark just nods, mouth still a tight line, and he can't even blink before Eduardo's climbing over him, straddling him on the couch, taking his face in both hands.
"We did it," he says again, deeper, and Mark gasps open-mouthed, trying to breathe, lets Eduardo's tongue into his mouth.
"Wait-"
Eduardo just laughs and cups his jaw gently. "Hey, it's okay. Relax, alright? You should be celebrating. We should be celebrating."
Mark nods- what can he do? - and Eduardo slides onto his knees, looks up at Mark through lowered eyelids and slowly unzips his jeans. Mark thinks one last time no wait this is and then Eduardo's got his mouth on him, a slick wet heat, and Mark's pushing his hips forward, getting hard quickly. Eduardo groans around Mark's cock, deep and low, and Mark shudders, goosebumps breaking out over his skin. Eduardo wraps a hand around Mark's thin hip, strokes a thumb over the bone, and pulls off.
"I want to be sore on my flight tomorrow," he says, mouth curving in a wicked grin, and Mark can't stop him. Doesn't want to stop him. This is the last night Eduardo will ever look at him like this, like he needs him. Mark's already fucked him over, might as well fuck him too- he hears in his head, in Sean's voice, smooth and insidious. Mark swallows hard and nods, jerky and fast, chokes out a "yeah."
Eduardo stands up and kicks his expensive black pants off, straddles Mark again, and it's been- yeah, it's been five months since they did this. Five fucking months, and how can so much have changed?
Eduardo licks Mark's fingers, wet and sloppy, and leans down to breathe against his collarbone when Mark puts them inside him.
"Fuck-" he says, shaky, quiet, when Mark adds a third.
"Do you have-" Mark says, and Eduardo responds, "Yeah. My wallet. In my- fuck- my pocket, Mark-"
Mark keeps his fingers pressing at that spot inside him and reaches past him for the wallet.
Eduardo drops his head, breathes loose and ragged when Mark is inside him.
"Move-" he says, "C'mon, Mark. Move."
Mark thrusts his hips up, and Eduardo down, and Eduardo leans forward to kiss him. When their mouths are together Mark finds that spot and Eduardo gasps, shocked, and twists his hips trying to get deeper.
Mark's silent, biting his lip to keep quiet, trying to lose himself. He's never been good at that.
Eduardo must feel it too, that strange quiet desperation, because he doesn't laugh or grin like he used to, during sex- just thrusts himself down, eyes locking with Mark's, mouth open helplessly, eyes wide like he knows. Like he knows how fucked he is.
"Mark," Eduardo says again, nearly whispering, and his voice sounds thick and close to tears. Mark wraps his arms around Eduardo's smooth back, pulls him closer, and Eduardo clenches around him, hard.
Mark comes, gasping. Eduardo's still poised above him, a long stretch of skin, heavy and warm on top of Mark, and Mark takes him in hand and strokes him in that way he remembers Eduardo likes, and Eduardo shudders and comes.
Eduardo clutches at him for a second, gusting out hot breaths onto Mark's collarbone.
He rolls off of Mark and grabs for his briefs, not saying anything still. Mark feels stricken, cold- sweaty and shaky with guilt. Eduardo knows, somehow he knows, maybe he realized it then while they were fucking-
-but Eduardo just sighs, and says, "I think I should get a place out here."
Mark pulls on his pants quickly, trying to ignore the unspoken question.
"Mark? Do you think - I mean, all summer you've been trying to get me to come out. Maybe it's time."
"What about Harvard?" Mark asks, and his voice sounds weak. He coughs.
"My father will kill me, but - I could go back, maybe in a year- finish up my degree." He's sipping from his beer, and he sits down at the couch. Mark stands up.
"I don't know if that's a good idea," Mark says. God, he's so fucking terrible at lying.
"Why?"
Mark stares at him for a second. This is the part where Sean thrives, the thrill of the hunt, the exhilarating heady rush of victory. Mark just feels small and tired.
"Never know when we'll need an econ major to help us out," he says weakly, and Eduardo grins. "Plus, your father- I mean, he'd-"
Eduardo nods. "Yeah, you might be right. Shit, it's two AM. My flight's at six."
"You want to sleep?"
Eduardo looks up at him. "Nah. Might as well pull an all-nighter. One last night of acting like we're in college, right?"
"Yeah, I never do that anymore," Mark says, and Eduardo laughs.
"You'll have to start working nine to five, Mark. Wearing suits. Having meetings."
"Never," Mark says, falling into their old banter, trying to ignore the fact that it's the last they'll have. He wants to write it down, write them down, somehow. He's never wanted to record something like that, for posterity, but it hits him- he's never really lost anything.
Eduardo stands up and kisses him, in front of his huge window which Sean insisted on, the muted lights of the city illuminating Eduardo's face in flashes- his nose, his white teeth, the curve of his jaw.
"So, you wanna stay up all night with me?" he murmurs, and Mark can feel the shape of his smile against his cheek.
He exhales.
"Yeah," he says, and hates himself more than anything. "Yeah."
-------------------------
ANGST THREE
pairing: mark/eduardo
prompt: the one where sean finds eduardo sleeping in mark's bed, that summer in palo alto
----
Sean pushes open the door, very slightly. Mark had been napping before Eduardo came- maybe he'd fallen asleep again, but Sean had a feeling if he didn't get to him in the next five minutes Eduardo would convince him of some serious bullshit. Mark was a smart kid, but he could be impressionable. Sean had to be the last imprint on him at all times- that was the point.
The room's lit only by the late afternoon light filtering in through the windows, and Sean hears the shower running, sees someone in the bed.
It's Eduardo, curled on his side under the covers, shirt off. He has one thin tan arm thrown over a pillow, face worried even in sleep.
Sean widens his eyes, blinks to make sure, careful to stay completely silent.
So, maybe Eduardo's just sleeping. Just- in Mark's room, because the guest room they got for Eduardo is too far away and he's too exhausted. Sleeping, while Mark showers, his clothes in a heap on the floor next to the bed- Sean recognizes his Philip Exeter t-shirt.
Or, maybe they're fucking.
Sean thinks about it- how it's been, between them, how he'd heard Eduardo, desperate through the door- Christy's psychotic. She's jealous, irrational- I - I'm frightened of her and Mark, a minute later- I want- no, I need you out here. Please don't tell him I said that.
Sean grins. Mark's fucking Eduardo. That makes so much sense, Sean's pissed he didn't figure it out before.
He closes the door quietly behind him, leans against the wall, mind whirring. Finally, he grins again, wide and easy, and leaves.
"Dustin! Make a couple drinks," he yells, walking into the living room. Dustin jumps away from the computer, glad to be done- he's been wired in for going on ten hours.
"Ladies, would you mind-" he pushes them out the door, puts the bong away, cleans up the debris of two days of coding and eating and smoking.
"So, Dustin-" he says, as Dustin pours sweet and sour into a shaker. "Eduardo- he's a pretty good friend of Mark's, right?"
Dustin shoots him a suspicious look, wide-eyed, and God just that confirms it, but it's still funny when Dustin says, "I mean, yeah. I guess."
"Pretty surprised Wardo didn't come out here for the summer, then. Doesn't seem like him."
"He had an internship," Dustin says, voice level, like he knows what game Sean's playing. Dustin's not an idiot.
"Yeah, but, it's just- the company's out here. Mark's out here."
"Mark understands," Dustin says, and leaves the room before Sean can get in a word. Sean pushes himself up onto the kitchen counter, scrolling through his cellphone, laughing a little. It was nearly too easy before, but this- this is just a joke.
He doesn't say anything for another day- lets Eduardo let his guard down. Finally, on Sunday night, Mark's wired in and Eduardo's unpacking groceries for the house, bending down to put packets of ramen in the cupboard. Sean studies his ass. Yeah, he can see how Mark wanted to tap that. Too bad it'll never happen again.
"Hey, Wardo!" he says, all fake cheer, sliding up onto the counter and dangling his legs. "Hope you can see, now, you know- it's not all play, out here in big bad Palo Alto. We do some work, too. Enough."
Eduardo nods, still not smiling at him, but not completely ignoring him either.
"Mark works the hardest," Sean adds, feeling that intoxicating thrill in him- of the hunt. "He's only taken home one girl this summer. One!"
Eduardo freezes for a moment, but manages to keep unpacking groceries. Oh, he's good. Sean's better, though.
"One girl?" he asks, voice strained.
"But I mean, who can blame him- she was a Victoria's Secret model."
Eduardo snorts, but it sounds fake- sounds weak. "Mark didn't fuck a Victoria's Secret model. It's Mark."
"Yeah, you're right. It's a little more like she was doing the fucking. God, she was screaming-" he breaks off and laughs, long and loud. Eduardo is staring determinedly at a spot on the refrigerator, but Sean can see his hands curl into fists.
"Who knew he was so good in the sack?" Sean says, and it's like he can actually see Eduardo break- doubt himself, doubt Mark, and come to the conclusion Sean wants him to. It's not like Mark's ever really given him a reason not to.
Eduardo nods, and takes out a can of soup, places it carefully on the counter. Then he leaves the room, without a word.
Sean picks up the can, studies it. Laughs, to himself, a real laugh.
Upstairs, he can very faintly hear them- Eduardo's voice rising, Mark a monotone beneath him, defensive. He catches something about a fucking model, and then how could you, and finally, yes- the Eduardo Saverin foundation. Perfect.
He walks out of the kitchen, picks up a margarita where Dustin left them. Dustin's listening, too, face open and scared, like a kid listening to his parents fight.
"I'm sure they'll work it out," Sean says, nodding, voice practically oozing with smug condescension, and Dustin doesn't look at him, just draws his knees up to his chest on the sofa.
"I really fucking hate you sometimes, Sean," Dustin says, quiet, into his knees. Sean chuckles.
"Eduardo hated me too, Dustin."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dustin asks as Sean walks to the door of his bedroom.
Sean shrugs. "Maybe you should be more careful."
Dustin shakes his head, disbelievingly, but says nothing. Sean lies down on his bed, on his back, smiles. He didn't need it, but it sure helped. Plus, it was kind of fun. Set the pieces up, knock 'em down, and watch them fall.
The next day, Mark comes down in the morning, face pale and drawn from lack of sleep and something else, an emotion Sean can't quite identify but seems pretty close to grief. He swallows a couple times, and says, "Sean- Sean, it's time to restructure."
Sean grins.
-------------------------------
ANGST FOUR
pairing: mark/eduardo
notes: for the office sex prompt, but then turned into a post-deposition, context-less mess of feelings and sex.
---
"Mark, can't you just- just fuck me, right now, okay?"
Mark backs away, hands in the air, and yes Eduardo's drunk, but he means it. He fucking means it.
"Uh, I- don't - "
"And I know you will," Eduardo continues, shaking the bottle for emphasis, "because you're the only person who doesn't give a shit how I feel."
He's got Mark backed up against the wall of his massive office. It's dark in the rest of the building, and Mark glances once behind him like someone's watching. Swallows hard.
"That's not true," he says softly. "Sean didn't really care how you felt-"
Eduardo cuts him off with a sharp laugh.
"Case in fucking point," he says miserably, and kisses Mark.
Mark just stays still, shaking.
Eduardo pulls away. Mark's eyes are shockingly wide, more vulnerable than Eduardo's seen since... well, ever.
"If you don't care, just - fuck me."
"I don't want to."
Eduardo laughs again, and it hurts. His throat burns. "That's what you always said, isn't it."
"I - not like this- I-" Mark stops and shakes his head. "I didn't think we'd ever, even, speak, again and then Wardo- Eduardo, you just- you can't just-"
"Don't do this," Eduardo says, hand clenching around the bottle, breath catching.
"You're the one who came in here and demanded that I fuck you!" Mark sputters.
"Because you don't care," Eduardo says. "You never did."
"How can you say that?" Mark says, voice still low but shaking slightly. "I haven't found one person who- knows me, like, and Sean fucks interns and snorts coke, and I don't even like some of the shit we come out with now, and I live by myself and I don't-" he stops and stares at Eduardo. "I haven't fucked a girl in months-" he says, voice low, and then they're kissing, Eduardo moaning into his mouth at the familiar taste of it.
"We shouldn't-" Mark pants as Eduardo's hands push up underneath his hoodie.
"Shut up," Eduardo says quickly, and goes to his knees.
Down there, looking up at Mark- God, it's so familiar it hurts. He closes his eyes and takes Mark into his mouth, and Mark groans and puts both hands in his hair, and just that makes him remember one night during spring finals, when Eduardo had woken Mark up in the lab at 4am and practically dragged him home, than blown him lying down while Mark groaned sleepily and rubbed a thumb over Eduardo's scalp.
When he pulls off, Mark says cautiously, "Wardo?" and everything feels weirdly like Harvard again.
He lays on the couch, on his stomach, and shoves his face in the pillow.
Mark's hands rest tentatively on his back.
"Wardo?" he says again, and Eduardo says into the pillow, "Just fuck me." Turns his head to the side and says it again, and closes his eyes when Mark slides slowly into him. Pretends that none of it happened, and he comes, gasping, when Mark slides a hand over his back and down to his dick and squeezes once, twice, three times.
Mark moans above him, drives into him. He's the same at fucking, barely more practiced, and his orgasm's the same. That makes Eduardo grin reasonlessly into the pillow. He really hasn't fucked anyone in a while.
Mark pulls out slowly and they sit on the couch. Mark can't even look at him.
"So," Eduardo says finally, helplessly, and then trails off again.
"You should go," Mark says flatly.
Eduardo laughs and nods and toys with the armrest of the couch for a second. "Of course."
"You keep saying that, of course, and you don't give me a fucking chance to explain anything, you just come in here and make me fuck you like I'll be happy we've been reduced to having sex because we hate each other!" Mark says suddenly, and Eduardo exhales shakily.
It's true. He's been an idiot. But Mark- Mark fucked up everything, doesn't Eduardo deserve some self-destructive tendencies? Some Mark-destructive tendencies? Trouble is, he's never been good at staying mad. Honestly, he's never been good at not wanting Mark.
So, it's back to square one, because Eduardo's the one who still cares and Mark thinks it's all been about revenge.
fandom: the social network
notes: too lazy to type out the actual verbatim prompts. meh. rating is mature for all.
ANGST ONE
pairing: eduardo/sean (sort of)
notes: for the eduardo-is-a-high-class-escort prompt. alex is wardo's "manager".
---
There's a tap on his shoulder, and when he turns he sees Sean Parker.
Well, fuck.
Sean sits at the bar and grins at him.
"Eduardo fucking Saverin. I honestly never thought I would see you here."
"I can completely imagine you being here," Eduardo replies sharply. There's something about Sean that will always needle him. Probably the bleached-white smile. He wants to knock it out.
"Thank God you're not still a part of Facebook," Sean drawls. "This would be a real scandal."
Eduardo bites his lip to keep himself quiet. In two minutes, the graying man talking in the corner will tap him on the shoulder. Alex had told him that. All he needs is to bore Sean into leaving.
Sean orders a drink - a 7 and 7, and takes a long, dragging sip from it.
"Can I get you something?" he asks Eduardo, still grinning infuriatingly.
"I actually need to go," Eduardo says, standing, and over Sean's shoulder he sees Alex narrow his eyes and shake his head at him. He sits again.
"Not gonna partake in the fun stuff?"
"I don't know what you're referring to," Eduardo says tightly, playing dumb.
"Come on, Wardo-"
"Don't."
"- you gotta know the deal here. The party's for whores and the rich businessmen who love them. Now, come on. Let's choose. What do you want? Pussy or ass?"
"Shut the fuck up, Sean," Eduardo says, and the man's approaching, Alex beside him. Shit, shit, shit.
"Hello," Alex says smoothly to Sean. "I see you've met Cristián." Eduardo winces.
"No," Sean says slowly, eyes darting between them, and an incredulous smile spreads over his face. "I haven't really gotten to know - Cristián."
"Well, he's going to talk with Mr. Johnson right now, but if you'd like to speak with him after-"
"I'm so sorry, I actually must go," Mr. Johnson says suddenly, looking up from his BlackBerry. "Bit of an emergency at the office."
Alex recovers quickly, and nods.
"Mr. Parker, he's all yours."
What Eduardo is supposed to do now is let the man buy him a drink, lead him into one of the private, soundproof rooms located off the outside hallway, and do whatever the man wants.
But it's Sean. It's Sean, staring at him like he can't believe his own luck, and Eduardo's shaking.
"Alex, I actually-"
Alex shoots him a look that says clearly, shut up.
Eduardo shuts up, and too soon, they're alone.
"Well," Sean says, stretching it out through his teeth. "I thought there was nothing more surprising than Eduardo Saverin partaking in carnal pleasures. I guess I was wrong."
"Fuck off, Sean."
"Oh, I'd much rather just fuck, Cristián. I'm good for it. I don't know if you knew, but I actually own about 7% of a pretty big company- it's called Facebook?"
Eduardo grits his teeth. "I'm leaving."
Sean stands up with him, grabs his arm.
"Come on, Eduardo. You'd rather fuck me than some wrinkled old man. And I'll go nice and slow, not that you need it, I'm guessing."
Eduardo jerks away.
"You wouldn't want Mark to find out about this, would you?"
Eduardo freezes, heart pounding suddenly.
"No, you wouldn't. Who knows what he'd do. What he'd think. Poor Eduardo, just a Silicon Valley slut now."
Eduardo shakes his head, and Sean strokes his arm and his skin prickles.
"God, look how far you've fallen. Did you even graduate from Harvard?"
Eduardo draws in a ragged breath, and says, "The room's this way."
------------------------------
ANGST TWO
pairing: mark/eduardo
notes: for the prompt about eduardo and mark on their last night, the night after eduardo signed the papers.
---
Mark's apartment is nice.
"Sean set you up with this?" Eduardo asks, grabbing two beers from the massive fridge.
"Yeah. I- I don't spend much time here, but it's nice."
Eduardo laughs and sprawls on Mark's uncomfortable couch, long limbs everywhere.
"God, it's hard to believe, isn't it?"
Mark nods.
"It's, uh, it's gonna be amazing," he says, coughing. His throat's dry, and Eduardo frowns and hands him a beer. Mark takes it silently.
"This is- this is everything- you know? From the beginning! This is what we've wanted, Christ, since that first night-" he breaks off and laughs, shaking his head, takes another sip of his beer.
Mark stares at him. It hurts more than he thought it would, to watch Eduardo screw himself out of Facebook. Sean convinced him it would be easy, because Eduardo is a drag on the company- an expense they can't afford, an influence they don't want. It's true, but Eduardo's also his friend.
That never meant much. It didn't factor in when he said we need more money and this is bad, Wardo, this is scathing- but now all the bullshit Sean's been feeding him for a summer is coming to a head. Now it's over. He'll probably never see Eduardo again. Not like this.
"Mark? You okay?"
Mark nods jerkily, and flops down on the couch next to Eduardo.
"Just, nervous," he says quietly, and Eduardo slings an arm around his shoulders.
"Relax," he says, and Mark bites his lip.
"This is a good thing. I know what you're doing! You worry about ads, you always have, but this- this is going to be good. They won't mess it up. I know, this summer I - well, I floated a couple of shitty ideas, I guess I can admit that now, but that's behind us-"
Mark nods, flicking his eyes up to Eduardo's, shoulders stiff under his arm. Isn't it obvious, his guilt? Pouring out of him? He doesn't usually think about shit like this, about how he appears to other people. But all he can think is- can Eduardo tell, does he hate me, well, he will soon enough, this is the last night we'll ever be like this-
Eduardo grins obliviously at him, warm and open like he did at Harvard.
"Mark," he murmurs, voice soft. "We did it."
Mark just nods, mouth still a tight line, and he can't even blink before Eduardo's climbing over him, straddling him on the couch, taking his face in both hands.
"We did it," he says again, deeper, and Mark gasps open-mouthed, trying to breathe, lets Eduardo's tongue into his mouth.
"Wait-"
Eduardo just laughs and cups his jaw gently. "Hey, it's okay. Relax, alright? You should be celebrating. We should be celebrating."
Mark nods- what can he do? - and Eduardo slides onto his knees, looks up at Mark through lowered eyelids and slowly unzips his jeans. Mark thinks one last time no wait this is and then Eduardo's got his mouth on him, a slick wet heat, and Mark's pushing his hips forward, getting hard quickly. Eduardo groans around Mark's cock, deep and low, and Mark shudders, goosebumps breaking out over his skin. Eduardo wraps a hand around Mark's thin hip, strokes a thumb over the bone, and pulls off.
"I want to be sore on my flight tomorrow," he says, mouth curving in a wicked grin, and Mark can't stop him. Doesn't want to stop him. This is the last night Eduardo will ever look at him like this, like he needs him. Mark's already fucked him over, might as well fuck him too- he hears in his head, in Sean's voice, smooth and insidious. Mark swallows hard and nods, jerky and fast, chokes out a "yeah."
Eduardo stands up and kicks his expensive black pants off, straddles Mark again, and it's been- yeah, it's been five months since they did this. Five fucking months, and how can so much have changed?
Eduardo licks Mark's fingers, wet and sloppy, and leans down to breathe against his collarbone when Mark puts them inside him.
"Fuck-" he says, shaky, quiet, when Mark adds a third.
"Do you have-" Mark says, and Eduardo responds, "Yeah. My wallet. In my- fuck- my pocket, Mark-"
Mark keeps his fingers pressing at that spot inside him and reaches past him for the wallet.
Eduardo drops his head, breathes loose and ragged when Mark is inside him.
"Move-" he says, "C'mon, Mark. Move."
Mark thrusts his hips up, and Eduardo down, and Eduardo leans forward to kiss him. When their mouths are together Mark finds that spot and Eduardo gasps, shocked, and twists his hips trying to get deeper.
Mark's silent, biting his lip to keep quiet, trying to lose himself. He's never been good at that.
Eduardo must feel it too, that strange quiet desperation, because he doesn't laugh or grin like he used to, during sex- just thrusts himself down, eyes locking with Mark's, mouth open helplessly, eyes wide like he knows. Like he knows how fucked he is.
"Mark," Eduardo says again, nearly whispering, and his voice sounds thick and close to tears. Mark wraps his arms around Eduardo's smooth back, pulls him closer, and Eduardo clenches around him, hard.
Mark comes, gasping. Eduardo's still poised above him, a long stretch of skin, heavy and warm on top of Mark, and Mark takes him in hand and strokes him in that way he remembers Eduardo likes, and Eduardo shudders and comes.
Eduardo clutches at him for a second, gusting out hot breaths onto Mark's collarbone.
He rolls off of Mark and grabs for his briefs, not saying anything still. Mark feels stricken, cold- sweaty and shaky with guilt. Eduardo knows, somehow he knows, maybe he realized it then while they were fucking-
-but Eduardo just sighs, and says, "I think I should get a place out here."
Mark pulls on his pants quickly, trying to ignore the unspoken question.
"Mark? Do you think - I mean, all summer you've been trying to get me to come out. Maybe it's time."
"What about Harvard?" Mark asks, and his voice sounds weak. He coughs.
"My father will kill me, but - I could go back, maybe in a year- finish up my degree." He's sipping from his beer, and he sits down at the couch. Mark stands up.
"I don't know if that's a good idea," Mark says. God, he's so fucking terrible at lying.
"Why?"
Mark stares at him for a second. This is the part where Sean thrives, the thrill of the hunt, the exhilarating heady rush of victory. Mark just feels small and tired.
"Never know when we'll need an econ major to help us out," he says weakly, and Eduardo grins. "Plus, your father- I mean, he'd-"
Eduardo nods. "Yeah, you might be right. Shit, it's two AM. My flight's at six."
"You want to sleep?"
Eduardo looks up at him. "Nah. Might as well pull an all-nighter. One last night of acting like we're in college, right?"
"Yeah, I never do that anymore," Mark says, and Eduardo laughs.
"You'll have to start working nine to five, Mark. Wearing suits. Having meetings."
"Never," Mark says, falling into their old banter, trying to ignore the fact that it's the last they'll have. He wants to write it down, write them down, somehow. He's never wanted to record something like that, for posterity, but it hits him- he's never really lost anything.
Eduardo stands up and kisses him, in front of his huge window which Sean insisted on, the muted lights of the city illuminating Eduardo's face in flashes- his nose, his white teeth, the curve of his jaw.
"So, you wanna stay up all night with me?" he murmurs, and Mark can feel the shape of his smile against his cheek.
He exhales.
"Yeah," he says, and hates himself more than anything. "Yeah."
-------------------------
ANGST THREE
pairing: mark/eduardo
prompt: the one where sean finds eduardo sleeping in mark's bed, that summer in palo alto
----
Sean pushes open the door, very slightly. Mark had been napping before Eduardo came- maybe he'd fallen asleep again, but Sean had a feeling if he didn't get to him in the next five minutes Eduardo would convince him of some serious bullshit. Mark was a smart kid, but he could be impressionable. Sean had to be the last imprint on him at all times- that was the point.
The room's lit only by the late afternoon light filtering in through the windows, and Sean hears the shower running, sees someone in the bed.
It's Eduardo, curled on his side under the covers, shirt off. He has one thin tan arm thrown over a pillow, face worried even in sleep.
Sean widens his eyes, blinks to make sure, careful to stay completely silent.
So, maybe Eduardo's just sleeping. Just- in Mark's room, because the guest room they got for Eduardo is too far away and he's too exhausted. Sleeping, while Mark showers, his clothes in a heap on the floor next to the bed- Sean recognizes his Philip Exeter t-shirt.
Or, maybe they're fucking.
Sean thinks about it- how it's been, between them, how he'd heard Eduardo, desperate through the door- Christy's psychotic. She's jealous, irrational- I - I'm frightened of her and Mark, a minute later- I want- no, I need you out here. Please don't tell him I said that.
Sean grins. Mark's fucking Eduardo. That makes so much sense, Sean's pissed he didn't figure it out before.
He closes the door quietly behind him, leans against the wall, mind whirring. Finally, he grins again, wide and easy, and leaves.
"Dustin! Make a couple drinks," he yells, walking into the living room. Dustin jumps away from the computer, glad to be done- he's been wired in for going on ten hours.
"Ladies, would you mind-" he pushes them out the door, puts the bong away, cleans up the debris of two days of coding and eating and smoking.
"So, Dustin-" he says, as Dustin pours sweet and sour into a shaker. "Eduardo- he's a pretty good friend of Mark's, right?"
Dustin shoots him a suspicious look, wide-eyed, and God just that confirms it, but it's still funny when Dustin says, "I mean, yeah. I guess."
"Pretty surprised Wardo didn't come out here for the summer, then. Doesn't seem like him."
"He had an internship," Dustin says, voice level, like he knows what game Sean's playing. Dustin's not an idiot.
"Yeah, but, it's just- the company's out here. Mark's out here."
"Mark understands," Dustin says, and leaves the room before Sean can get in a word. Sean pushes himself up onto the kitchen counter, scrolling through his cellphone, laughing a little. It was nearly too easy before, but this- this is just a joke.
He doesn't say anything for another day- lets Eduardo let his guard down. Finally, on Sunday night, Mark's wired in and Eduardo's unpacking groceries for the house, bending down to put packets of ramen in the cupboard. Sean studies his ass. Yeah, he can see how Mark wanted to tap that. Too bad it'll never happen again.
"Hey, Wardo!" he says, all fake cheer, sliding up onto the counter and dangling his legs. "Hope you can see, now, you know- it's not all play, out here in big bad Palo Alto. We do some work, too. Enough."
Eduardo nods, still not smiling at him, but not completely ignoring him either.
"Mark works the hardest," Sean adds, feeling that intoxicating thrill in him- of the hunt. "He's only taken home one girl this summer. One!"
Eduardo freezes for a moment, but manages to keep unpacking groceries. Oh, he's good. Sean's better, though.
"One girl?" he asks, voice strained.
"But I mean, who can blame him- she was a Victoria's Secret model."
Eduardo snorts, but it sounds fake- sounds weak. "Mark didn't fuck a Victoria's Secret model. It's Mark."
"Yeah, you're right. It's a little more like she was doing the fucking. God, she was screaming-" he breaks off and laughs, long and loud. Eduardo is staring determinedly at a spot on the refrigerator, but Sean can see his hands curl into fists.
"Who knew he was so good in the sack?" Sean says, and it's like he can actually see Eduardo break- doubt himself, doubt Mark, and come to the conclusion Sean wants him to. It's not like Mark's ever really given him a reason not to.
Eduardo nods, and takes out a can of soup, places it carefully on the counter. Then he leaves the room, without a word.
Sean picks up the can, studies it. Laughs, to himself, a real laugh.
Upstairs, he can very faintly hear them- Eduardo's voice rising, Mark a monotone beneath him, defensive. He catches something about a fucking model, and then how could you, and finally, yes- the Eduardo Saverin foundation. Perfect.
He walks out of the kitchen, picks up a margarita where Dustin left them. Dustin's listening, too, face open and scared, like a kid listening to his parents fight.
"I'm sure they'll work it out," Sean says, nodding, voice practically oozing with smug condescension, and Dustin doesn't look at him, just draws his knees up to his chest on the sofa.
"I really fucking hate you sometimes, Sean," Dustin says, quiet, into his knees. Sean chuckles.
"Eduardo hated me too, Dustin."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dustin asks as Sean walks to the door of his bedroom.
Sean shrugs. "Maybe you should be more careful."
Dustin shakes his head, disbelievingly, but says nothing. Sean lies down on his bed, on his back, smiles. He didn't need it, but it sure helped. Plus, it was kind of fun. Set the pieces up, knock 'em down, and watch them fall.
The next day, Mark comes down in the morning, face pale and drawn from lack of sleep and something else, an emotion Sean can't quite identify but seems pretty close to grief. He swallows a couple times, and says, "Sean- Sean, it's time to restructure."
Sean grins.
-------------------------------
ANGST FOUR
pairing: mark/eduardo
notes: for the office sex prompt, but then turned into a post-deposition, context-less mess of feelings and sex.
---
"Mark, can't you just- just fuck me, right now, okay?"
Mark backs away, hands in the air, and yes Eduardo's drunk, but he means it. He fucking means it.
"Uh, I- don't - "
"And I know you will," Eduardo continues, shaking the bottle for emphasis, "because you're the only person who doesn't give a shit how I feel."
He's got Mark backed up against the wall of his massive office. It's dark in the rest of the building, and Mark glances once behind him like someone's watching. Swallows hard.
"That's not true," he says softly. "Sean didn't really care how you felt-"
Eduardo cuts him off with a sharp laugh.
"Case in fucking point," he says miserably, and kisses Mark.
Mark just stays still, shaking.
Eduardo pulls away. Mark's eyes are shockingly wide, more vulnerable than Eduardo's seen since... well, ever.
"If you don't care, just - fuck me."
"I don't want to."
Eduardo laughs again, and it hurts. His throat burns. "That's what you always said, isn't it."
"I - not like this- I-" Mark stops and shakes his head. "I didn't think we'd ever, even, speak, again and then Wardo- Eduardo, you just- you can't just-"
"Don't do this," Eduardo says, hand clenching around the bottle, breath catching.
"You're the one who came in here and demanded that I fuck you!" Mark sputters.
"Because you don't care," Eduardo says. "You never did."
"How can you say that?" Mark says, voice still low but shaking slightly. "I haven't found one person who- knows me, like, and Sean fucks interns and snorts coke, and I don't even like some of the shit we come out with now, and I live by myself and I don't-" he stops and stares at Eduardo. "I haven't fucked a girl in months-" he says, voice low, and then they're kissing, Eduardo moaning into his mouth at the familiar taste of it.
"We shouldn't-" Mark pants as Eduardo's hands push up underneath his hoodie.
"Shut up," Eduardo says quickly, and goes to his knees.
Down there, looking up at Mark- God, it's so familiar it hurts. He closes his eyes and takes Mark into his mouth, and Mark groans and puts both hands in his hair, and just that makes him remember one night during spring finals, when Eduardo had woken Mark up in the lab at 4am and practically dragged him home, than blown him lying down while Mark groaned sleepily and rubbed a thumb over Eduardo's scalp.
When he pulls off, Mark says cautiously, "Wardo?" and everything feels weirdly like Harvard again.
He lays on the couch, on his stomach, and shoves his face in the pillow.
Mark's hands rest tentatively on his back.
"Wardo?" he says again, and Eduardo says into the pillow, "Just fuck me." Turns his head to the side and says it again, and closes his eyes when Mark slides slowly into him. Pretends that none of it happened, and he comes, gasping, when Mark slides a hand over his back and down to his dick and squeezes once, twice, three times.
Mark moans above him, drives into him. He's the same at fucking, barely more practiced, and his orgasm's the same. That makes Eduardo grin reasonlessly into the pillow. He really hasn't fucked anyone in a while.
Mark pulls out slowly and they sit on the couch. Mark can't even look at him.
"So," Eduardo says finally, helplessly, and then trails off again.
"You should go," Mark says flatly.
Eduardo laughs and nods and toys with the armrest of the couch for a second. "Of course."
"You keep saying that, of course, and you don't give me a fucking chance to explain anything, you just come in here and make me fuck you like I'll be happy we've been reduced to having sex because we hate each other!" Mark says suddenly, and Eduardo exhales shakily.
It's true. He's been an idiot. But Mark- Mark fucked up everything, doesn't Eduardo deserve some self-destructive tendencies? Some Mark-destructive tendencies? Trouble is, he's never been good at staying mad. Honestly, he's never been good at not wanting Mark.
So, it's back to square one, because Eduardo's the one who still cares and Mark thinks it's all been about revenge.