fic: the times we were told that we can't
fic: the times we were told that we can't
pairing: mark/eduardo
notes: yet MORE of the political AU. there'll probably be one more part. i realized there just was not enough porn in that last bit, so.. yeah. also, facebook! for auntie rosie!!! <333
oh and title is still from obama's victory speech. LOOK AT ME WITH MY THEMES. :D
In February, the President’s invited to some massive tech conference in New York City, and they somehow end up all going. They’re staying in the W, and in the car to the convention center Chris nudges Mark and says, “So, Billy’s going to be here.”
Mark rolls his eyes, and Eduardo looks up from where he’s rummaging in his bag for a water bottle.
“Billy?” he asks.
“Billy Olson,” Chris says absentmindedly.
“Oh, of course. Facebook founder.”
“And Mark’s ex-roommate,” Dustin adds, not even looking up from his game of Angry Birds.
Eduardo’s jaw drops. “You were Billy Olson’s roommate?”
Chris laughs when Mark shrugs.
“He hasn’t told you the story?”
“Chris,” Mark says, and Eduardo squeezes his knee to shut him up, leaning forward towards Chris eagerly.
“Mark here was not just roommates with Billy. They were business partners.”
“What?”
“Mark was a co-founder of Facebook,” Dustin says. Mark’s blushing.
“How- is that-”
“But he left in early days,” Chris explains, pinching Mark’s cheek. “Because he has a not-so-secret desire to save the world from idiocy and hicks with guns.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Mark says, annoyed, and Eduardo nudges him with his shoulder, grinning.
“I can’t believe that,” he says.
“Poking? All Mark,” Dustin says, sniggering.
“Not true,” Mark says, and Chris laughs, typing on his Blackberry.
“Sort of true. He kept poking you. And then- he somehow thought that was a good idea.”
“Oh God, but it’s not, it’s so annoying,” Eduardo laughs, and Mark flicks him off. Eduardo pokes him hard in the shoulder, until Mark grabs his hand in his to make him stop.
“You just had to be a superhero, didn’t you,” Eduardo murmurs into Mark’s ear, squeezing his thigh, and Mark looks down, lips quirking up, ears hot.
---
Apparently, Eduardo has a superman kink, because two hours later, when they’re done with champagne and light refreshments and keynote speakers, Eduardo texts Mark come to the bathroom. now.
“Wardo?” Mark asks cautiously, pushing open the bathroom door, and Eduardo pushes him into a stall, locks the door, kisses him hard.
"Oh Jesus, Eduardo, we can't do this right now.”
"Tell me to stop," he says, rubbing the heel of his hand over Mark's crotch. Mark exhales, squeezes his eyes shut.
"Someone could come- fuck, Wardo, in, someone could come in," he pants, and Eduardo goes to his knees.
"Probably be the most exciting thing they’d have seen in a while."
Mark's head hits the stall as Eduardo licks up his cock.
"I don't like what you're implying about computer peopl- fuck, yes, Wardo-" he says, and stuffs a fist in his mouth because Eduardo's sucking on the head, lips popping off, and the noise is obscene. Mark's skin is flushed, he can feel it. He's sweating, panting, and he lets out a long moan when Eduardo pulls off, blows cold air over him.
"Fucking hurry," Mark says, taking his hand out his mouth, and then- "Eduardo, come- oh fuck come on Wardo yes. Yes yes, fucking- fuck-" as Eduardo nearly swallows him.
He comes and Eduardo swallows, licks him, kisses the juncture between hip and thigh. He stands up and leans against the other wall, breathing hard, and Mark fumbles his own pants shut and falls against Eduardo, pushes him hard against the wall and kisses him, nipping at his lips and then licking until Eduardo lets out a pained little exhale. He's hard against Mark's thigh.
"I can't believe no one's come in," Eduardo says, grinning wildly, and Mark palms him through his pants. Eduardo groans at the friction and thrusts his hips up.
"Shh," Mark whispers, unzipping his Armani pants. Eduardo would be wearing fucking Armani.
"Mm, fuck yes Mark yes like that," Eduardo says all in one exhale when Mark takes him in hand.
"Now, I can't do this the whole time," Mark says in a flat voice, but he can't stop grinning. "Because you'll come everywhere. Get everything dirty."
"Mmgh-" Eduardo pants, hips thrusting into Mark's fist, eyes locked on Mark's, wide and desperate.
"You can't go out there and they're all looking at you with come on your pants, like some teenage boy-"
"Mark-"
"And everyone knows just exactly what you've been doing-" he twists his wrist.
"Oh God oh fucking-" He's tensing like he's almost there. Mark drops to his knees, sucks hard, and Eduardo comes almost instantly, gasping out loud hot breaths. Mark stands up when he's done, and Eduardo pulls up his briefs, still breathing hard, grinning.
The door opens.
"Yes, well, I think it's an extremely exciting model for other businesses to follow-"
Eduardo's mouth opens and before Mark can even process it he's lifting Mark up against the opposite stall wall. Mark wraps his ankles around Eduardo's waist, automatically, so they’re out of sight.
Eduardo is completely silent, listening, eyes wide, and Mark can't even believe the position they're in. He bites his lip to keep from laughing, clamping his mouth shut, and Eduardo looks at him and his eyes crinkle shut and he chokes out a silent gasp of laughter. Mark lets his head lean back against the wall, and Eduardo buries his head in Mark's neck, shaking.
The men are washing their hands, still talking, and Mark leans forward on an impulse and presses his lips against Eduardo's.
He's still laughing but he kisses back, quietly, and Mark wraps a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him closer, and they're, yeah, they're full-on making out, albeit completely silently, which is really quite a feat. Mark slows it down when Eduardo exhales a little too loudly, pulls away, brushes his lips against the corner of Eduardo's mouth and Eduardo pushes him farther up the wall, hands under Mark's ass.
The men leave.
They stare at each other silently. Eduardo's arms are shaking a little. Mark squeezes his legs around Eduardo's torso, briefly.
"Want you to- to fuck me tonight," Mark says quietly, and Eduardo's hands tighten on his hips. They haven't done that. Mark's never asked.
"You sure?" Eduardo murmurs, and Mark pushes at his arms, drops his legs down.
"Let me-" Eduardo lets him stand up.
"Yeah, I'm sure," Mark says, straightening his suit jacket, and Eduardo zips up his pants, fingers still trembling.
----
They take a shower together that night, in Eduardo’s huge hotel room shower, both a little tipsy and tired and anticipatory, and Eduardo soaps up Mark’s back as they face each other, and Mark presses against him with a hot little exhale when Eduardo’s fingers slip into the crack of his ass.
“Hey,” Eduardo says, kissing Mark’s jaw, his temple, water running down both of their faces. He rubs the finger a little more deliberately, slip-sliding along the line, between, so fucking close, and Mark groans, pushing his hips against Eduardo’s, grabbing on with both hands. Eduardo’s skin is slippery and wet and tan and Mark licks his collarbone, sweet and soapy.
“C’mon,” Eduardo says, moving his hands up Mark’s back, until he’s massaging slow circles into Mark’s scalp and shoulders and Mark is melting against the wall of the shower, cold tile on his back and Eduardo hot against his front.
“Fuck,” he gets out, open mouth filling with water, and Eduardo puts his mouth against Mark’s cheek.
“Wash off and we’ll- in my bed. Yeah?”
Mark nods, and Eduardo smooths a hand over Mark’s ass, and Mark wants Eduardo inside him immediately.
He washes quickly and Eduardo steps out first, throwing him a towel. He is naked and Eduardo is naked and Mark wraps the towel around both of their hips and draws him in and they are kissing. It is the most intimate thing he’s ever done, the most open he’s ever felt. Eduardo’s hands cup Mark’s ass through the towel.
“You’re sure,” Eduardo says, and Mark’s muscles clench involuntarily, excitedly. He feels queasy in a delicious way.
“Yes, yeah. Wardo. Bed?” he stammers, and Eduardo laughs and pushes him into the bedroom, lays him out on the sheets. They’re still wet, but fuck it.
“I want to make you feel so good,” Eduardo murmurs against his ear, and Mark nods, suddenly speechless. It feels like some boundary’s going to be crossed, and he’s scared but he wants it. Eduardo- he just- he trusts Eduardo.
Eduardo rustles around for lube and condoms and Mark lays on his back, breathing slow and steady.
“Are you sure,” Eduardo asks again, looking down at him, and Mark pounds his fist on the mattress.
“I’m sure, Wardo, I swear. You seem to fucking like it.”
Eduardo laughs to himself, gets on his knees on the bed.
“I really do,” he says quietly. “I really like it, and I want you to like it.”
Mark stares at him. His heart hurts, in a good way. He thinks. Is there a good way to hurt?
Eduardo slicks up a finger and slips it in and Mark feels weird, he feels so weird. Eduardo nods questioningly at him and he nods in return and Eduardo rubs his other hand over Mark’s stomach and puts another finger in.
And Mark is chewing his lip nervously and Eduardo crooks his finger and hits- hits something and it unfolds in the pit of his stomach, warm and liquid and he moans, and yes, fuck yes there’s a good way to hurt.
“Mm, like that,” Eduardo asks quietly, and Mark nods, legs opening wider. Eduardo does it again, and again, and Mark is shaking trying to keep still, gasping out fast breaths through his mouth.
“One more, okay?”
The third burns but Eduardo finds the spot again right away and it feels so good, so insanely good. Mark is twisting his hips on Eduardo’s fingers, trying to push himself further down onto the bed, making these little desperate noises that he can’t even care enough about to be embarrassed by.
“God, you fucking love it,” Eduardo says in this low rough voice, eyes dark, and Mark is too far gone to be embarrassed. He wants Eduardo to fuck him. He has never specifically wanted that in his life but fuck he wants it now.
“Eduardo I really really need you,” Mark says all in one breath, and Eduardo nods jerkily, shoves a pillow under Mark’s hips. Mark lets his legs fall open even wider.
Eduardo pushes in slowly and it hurts but Mark just exhales carefully and Eduardo’s face is worth it.
“You are so fucking perfect,” Eduardo says shakily, and draws one of Mark’s legs up onto his hip with one hand. He slides out and then in again. Mark groans loose in his throat, kicks his other leg up around Eduardo’s waist, strangely reminiscent of how they’d been in the bathroom at the convention center.
"You- did I hit it? Do you feel good?" Eduardo asks, face concerned and shining with sweat, and Mark nods and pulls him closer, feeling so fucking loved. He hasn't exactly, yet, but when Eduardo thrusts in again Mark doesn't have to lie because he feels it and his eyes go wide and he makes a shocked sound, high in his throat.
Eduardo nods determinedly to himself and hits it again, and again, until Mark is shaking, fisting his hands in the 600 thread count sheets, babbling.
He runs a finger up Mark's cock, takes him in hand, and that's it, that's fucking it- he's coming everywhere, ass clenching spastically around Eduardo and it's white behind his eyes and he feels turned inside out but really, really fucking good.
He gusts out a long sigh and watches Eduardo's face, and deliberately, carefully squeezes again, drawing him in deeper, scratches his nails down Eduardo's lower back, and Eduardo groans out something in Portuguese, and says Mark Mark oh God Mark and comes.
He pulls out and Mark winces. The sting, the feeling of emptiness, is all new and Mark vaguely dislikes it but then Eduardo is walking into the bathroom, completely naked, and he comes back with a towel, wet with warm water. He washes Mark off in smooth strokes, and when the roughness of the towel hits Mark's nipple he makes a noise, and Eduardo leans down and sucks the nipple into his mouth, licks Mark's chest.
"Jesus, Wardo," Mark says weakly, and Eduardo keeps doing that, kissing him reverently on his chest and his belly, the concavities of his hips, the pale insides of his skinny thighs.
“Fucking love you,” he murmurs, into the spot right below Mark’s navel, and Mark exhales shakily, pulls Eduardo up by the shoulder until they’re at face level.
“You too,” he says, quiet, eyes nearly slipping shut. He’s bone-tired all of a sudden, pliant and warm and Eduardo throws the hand towel onto the floor and puts his hand flat on Mark’s chest, face pushed into his arm. Mark lays his head back, pulls the comforter up over them with one hand, and drops off to sleep.
----
The next morning Chris knocks on their door to wake them up.
“I tried Mark’s room already,” he says when Eduardo opens the door, yawning hugely. “I should have known.”
“Good morning to you too, Chris.”
“Morning. Our flight leaves in two hours, so we’re getting breakfast downstairs- you want?”
“Yeah,” Mark says, puling on a t-shirt.
“We’ll be right down, Chris, okay?”
“Yeah, we’ll meet you. Dustin is freaking out from hunger. He keeps clutching his stomach and moaning and opening and closing the mini fridge.”
“Tell him Pringles are not a healthy breakfast food,” Eduardo says, laughing, and Chris leaves.
“How are you?” Eduardo asks Mark once they’re alone. Mark’s trying to work the coffemaker, bleary-eyed and fucked out and achey in a good way.
“Good,” he mumbles, and Eduardo kisses his shoulder blade through the t-shirt, puts his hands on Mark’s hips from behind.
“Just get coffee downstairs, babe,” he says, and Mark has never been called anything like that in his life. He was never one for names. His few girlfriends had always been faintly annoyed by that.
He likes it, with Eduardo. He nods slightly, puts the coffee filter down.
Eduardo just touches his hip lightly and finishes getting dressed.
“There were no hot chicks at that thing,” Dustin grumbles, stuffing half a piece of toast in his mouth.
“It was pretty male-dominated,” Eduardo agrees thoughtfully. “There’s a real dearth of women in technology. I wonder why. Maybe just a historical bias, or -”
“Ugh, you’re boring,” Dustin groans, and Mark snorts. Eduardo rolls his eyes and takes a bite of omelet.
“Did you talk to Billy?” Chris asks, and Mark shakes his head.
“I mean, I said hi, I guess.”
“Did he...”
“Yeah.”
“Did he what?” Eduardo asks curiously.
“He always asks Mark to come work for him. Says there’s no one more creative in programming today.”
“How he got that idea from four months of coding in a dorm room I have no idea,” Mark says, and Dustin pokes him.
“Don’t be so modest, Marky.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“He hates nicknames,” Dustin explains to Eduardo, and Mark goes hot. Eduardo nods, saying softly, “I’ll keep that in mind,” and grins into his coffee and squeezes Mark’s thigh under the table.
---
Work goes on as usual, through the spring. The Congress is slow, (gridlock, of course) and there are a couple of close calls, crazy shit passed in the Senate, but they’ve held onto their majority in the House and nothing terrible’s getting through. Mark gets a little thrill of anger whenever he hears about the latest bullshit endeavor to defund Planned Parenthood or strengthen and expand DOMA or repeal some part of Medicare, and he’ll stay up with Eduardo for hours, yelling over Indian food, eventually passing out on Eduardo’s couch surrounded by scrunched up papers with incoherent notes on them, breathing curry-scented breaths into each other’s mouths and falling asleep curled together.
In April Senator Saverin introduces a bill as majority leader and it’s a fucking doozy. It’s a general commerce bill, but he’s tacked on some bullshit about custody rights for same sex couples, and tried to relate it to the economy with some shitty statistics about disparities in child support between heterosexual and homosexual couples.
It’s clearly anti-gay and it’s offensive and it’s annoying. Mark considers it an annoyance, because it won’t pass, but he finds Eduardo in his office, face tight, the night after it’s introduced and Mark realizes it’s a lot more than an annoyance to him.
Eduardo is massaging his neck with two fingers, peering at his computer screen, and Mark stands in the doorway.
“You okay?” he asks, and Eduardo jerks, startled.
“Hey- hey, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”
“So, that commerce bill-”
“Mark, I said I’m fine,” Eduardo says defensively.
“I was just going to ask if you think the CBO will approve that clause about soybean farming in Iowa,” Mark asks. Eduardo exhales and nods, and Mark comes to his side, leans against his desk.
“Eduardo, it’s not going to pass.”
“Oh great, so I can adopt as many fucking babies as I want, thanks, Mark,” Eduardo snaps, and Mark recoils.
“That’s not what I- fuck, never mind.”
“Mark, wait. I’m sorry, it’s just- it’s- you know how you said that thing, before, about how he just wants to be re-elected? That’s why he does everything, for re-election, for his constituents? I fucking wish that were it.” He stops, drumming his fingers against the desk. “I- Mark, he really thinks- well, you know.”
“No, I don’t,” Mark says carefully, and Eduardo digs the palms of his hands into his closed eyes.
“It’s not just about that, all of the things he does,” he says quietly, frustrated, weary. “He really thinks I’m- that I’m wrong. That it’s wrong.”
Mark nods quietly.
“Every single thing he says in the interviews, about caring about- about me or whatever, is a fucking lie,” Eduardo says roughly, and Mark’s chest hurts. His chest fucking hurts. He wants to kill Eduardo’s father, and he has never wanted to protect someone like this before. It’s terrifying.
“I’m sorry. Not- not for you, like that, I’m just sorry that he’s such a fucking idiot.”
Eduardo nods, head down, waves a stoic little hand at him like, I’m fine I’m fine and Mark isn’t great at this, he knows that, but can’t Eduardo give him some credit?
“Wardo, just.” He has no idea what to say, and settles for reaching up, putting his arms around Eduardo’s neck, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck. He doesn’t even consciously know what he’s doing but he wants to make Eduardo feel better. He wants Eduardo to feel amazing. He doesn’t ever want Eduardo to feel bad ever again, and it scares the shit out of him.
He wants Eduardo to feel amazing, and he wants Eduardo’s father to feel a great deal of pain.
So after he kisses Eduardo’s neck and squeezes his waist and leaves, he does something. He does some research, on the side, calls up old hacking tricks he hasn't used since college, and what he finds, after a month- it’s- it’s fucking perfect. Just perfect.
---
“What the fuck is this, mama? No- calm down. Calm down, it’ll be- mami, pare de chorar. Ma- venha, mami, it’s okay.”
Mark watches him. Eduardo’s pacing furiously in his apartment, fists clenched, and Mark feels a little like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Even though, technically, Eduardo hasn’t caught him yet.
Eduardo hangs up, rubs a tired hand on his temples.
“Jesus,” he says to himself.
“The latest in a string of Republican hypocritical sex scandals,” Mark says in an announcer’s voice, amused, and Eduardo shakes his head silently. Mark is a little giddy with it, with what he did for Eduardo.
“I just don’t understand how CNN got a hold of this,” Eduardo murmurs to himself. “The woman didn’t say anything.”
“The hooker,” Mark says triumphantly. “She was a hooker, Wardo.”
“Please don’t say that in public, okay?” Eduardo says, waving his hand at him.
“Why not? It’s true. Craigslist, Wardo. Could he be more of a cliche?”
Eduardo just stares into space, frowning. Mark is a little nonplussed. Eduardo should be more excited.
“Linda at the Post told me it was an anonymous tip,” Eduardo says. “I just- I don’t know.”
“Yeah, an anonymous tip from someone who knows where to look and has the technology to track IP addresses,” Mark says, faux-absently, grinning a little, and Eduardo nods and then realizes and looks at him.
“Mark. Oh- oh fuck Mark was this you?”
Mark shrugs conspiratorially, looking up at him, and Eduardo is not amused. In fact, he looks pretty fucking furious.
“You. You did this. You’re the one who ruined my mother’s life-”
“What? No!”
“Goddamnit, Mark!”
“I was trying to help,” Mark says hotly, going red, and Eduardo looks at him with a pained, disbelieving expression.
“Help? You thought this- this would help?”
“He’s a fucking hypocrite,” Mark mutters, and Eduardo makes a agonized little sound.
“You don’t want your mom to know that her husband-” Mark starts, and Eduardo puts a finger in his face. He’s shaking.
“You don’t think my mother knows he’s been fucking around on her? She fucking knows, alright? It’s been- god, Mark, it’s been twenty years-”
“Wait, what?” Mark asks, because- what?
Eduardo bares his teeth at him, eyes wide and wet. “Fuck, Mark, this is my fucking family. It’s my- my family.”
“I thought I was your family,” Mark says sullenly. Eduardo just looks away, scrolling frantically through his phone.
“I thought-” Mark says, louder. “I thought you didn’t care about him, Wardo.”
“Well, you caught me!” Eduardo yells, voice cracking, arms wide, and Mark looks down again. He hates when people yell.
“Eduardo,” he says quietly.
“I just- I need to be by myself right now, Mark, okay? I need to work some stuff out.”
“What kind of stuff?” Mark says, suddenly terrified out of his mind. Fuck. Fuck.
Eduardo doesn’t look up from his phone. “Just family stuff,” he says, voice flat. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Mark says, standing up. “Okay.”
He shuts the door behind him and sits down heavily on the steps of Eduardo’s apartment building. He does not- he can not fuck this up.
---
Eduardo doesn’t call the next day, and Mark nearly wears the button off his phone from checking so often. That evening Eduardo leaves for Greece, and he still hasn’t called, and Mark fucked up. He is so scared that he fucked this up.
And as usual when he fucks up, he talks to Chris.
Chris is at his desk, typing furiously, and Mark knocks cautiously. He’s finished most of his actual assigned work for the day, and unless the President kills someone or gets killed himself he’s fine.
“Yeah,” Chris says, and Mark spits out the string of his hoodie.
“You heard about Wardo’s dad,” Mark says, leaning against Chris’ desk.
“Of course. How is he?”
“How is he? He should be fine. It’s - fuck, it’s the enemy, isn’t it, Chris?”
“Well, yeah, but it’s his family.”
“He fucking hates him!”
Chris looks up, cocks his head.
“Wait, who?”
“I don’t know. Eduardo. His father. They- he’s a bad person.”
“Oh, fuck, Mark.”
Mark zips and unzips his hoodie guiltily.
“You leaked it?”
“I thought he was going to be happy,” Mark mumbles, and Chris shakes his head.
“You are such an awful excuse for a normal human being,” Chris mutters, and Mark sticks the string in his mouth again. His eyes hurt. He’s exhausted and he’s terrified and if he loses Eduardo he has no idea what he’s going to do.
“Mark. Hey, Mark.”
Mark shakes his head, looking away, knee jittering, and Chris stands up and puts his arms around him.
“Hey. He’s- it’s going to be fine. What did he say?”
“Said he needed to work some stuff out,” Mark says weakly, arms at his side, and Chris keeps an arm around him, sits next to him.
“I can’t fucking- I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“I know.”
“What do I do?”
Chris sighs, and stands up. Mark’s hunched over, scratching at his arm with the other hand.
“Just explain. No- don’t explain. Just apologize.”
Mark snorts.
“I know that’s not your strong suit. But as the press director of the fucking White House, I’m really really good at it. And you need to.”
Mark laughs, and Chris slaps him on the knee. “You can do it. Just think about Eduardo, about how much you care about him-” Mark ducks his head, going hot- “seriously, Mark, and then say sorry. A bunch of times. As many times as it takes.”
Mark nods, and Chris sits down at his desk again. “Now get out. I have to fix someone else’s problems.”
“Thanks,” Mark says unwillingly, and Chris makes a simultaneously annoyed and worried and fond face and waves him out.
---
Eduardo’s still gone the next night, and Mark calls him at two AM.
He’s sitting at his desk, head throbbing, and it feels eerily reminiscent of that night when he’d fucked everything up before.
Except Eduardo sighs when he picks up the phone, and he doesn’t sound warm.
“Mark,” he says instead of “hello”, and Mark is silent for a second.
“Hey,” he says finally, when Eduardo coughs pointedly. “I- how’s Greece?”
“Stressful. What is it, Mark?”
“I just- you said you’d call. Before you left. I hadn’t heard from you.”
Eduardo exhales. “I’ve been emailing you all day, Mark.”
“Not- not that. You know what I mean.”
There’s a silence.
“I’m just trying to work some shit out,” Eduardo says, and Mark squeezes his eyes shut, focuses on keeping his breath steady.
“Wardo-”
“I need to sleep, Mark. I’m so fucking jetlagged. Okay?”
“Yeah,” Mark says reluctantly.
“I just- we’ll talk tomorrow. Or Wednesday. My schedule is insane here.”
“Okay, I just-”
“Good night, Mark.”
“I miss you,” Mark blurts out. “I- good night.”
He hears Eduardo breathing, and folds an automatically defensive arm across his chest.
“Bye,” Eduardo says softly, and hangs up.
Mark leans back in his chair, breath coming too fast, panicky. His head is pounding. He is scared.
pairing: mark/eduardo
notes: yet MORE of the political AU. there'll probably be one more part. i realized there just was not enough porn in that last bit, so.. yeah. also, facebook! for auntie rosie!!! <333
oh and title is still from obama's victory speech. LOOK AT ME WITH MY THEMES. :D
In February, the President’s invited to some massive tech conference in New York City, and they somehow end up all going. They’re staying in the W, and in the car to the convention center Chris nudges Mark and says, “So, Billy’s going to be here.”
Mark rolls his eyes, and Eduardo looks up from where he’s rummaging in his bag for a water bottle.
“Billy?” he asks.
“Billy Olson,” Chris says absentmindedly.
“Oh, of course. Facebook founder.”
“And Mark’s ex-roommate,” Dustin adds, not even looking up from his game of Angry Birds.
Eduardo’s jaw drops. “You were Billy Olson’s roommate?”
Chris laughs when Mark shrugs.
“He hasn’t told you the story?”
“Chris,” Mark says, and Eduardo squeezes his knee to shut him up, leaning forward towards Chris eagerly.
“Mark here was not just roommates with Billy. They were business partners.”
“What?”
“Mark was a co-founder of Facebook,” Dustin says. Mark’s blushing.
“How- is that-”
“But he left in early days,” Chris explains, pinching Mark’s cheek. “Because he has a not-so-secret desire to save the world from idiocy and hicks with guns.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Mark says, annoyed, and Eduardo nudges him with his shoulder, grinning.
“I can’t believe that,” he says.
“Poking? All Mark,” Dustin says, sniggering.
“Not true,” Mark says, and Chris laughs, typing on his Blackberry.
“Sort of true. He kept poking you. And then- he somehow thought that was a good idea.”
“Oh God, but it’s not, it’s so annoying,” Eduardo laughs, and Mark flicks him off. Eduardo pokes him hard in the shoulder, until Mark grabs his hand in his to make him stop.
“You just had to be a superhero, didn’t you,” Eduardo murmurs into Mark’s ear, squeezing his thigh, and Mark looks down, lips quirking up, ears hot.
---
Apparently, Eduardo has a superman kink, because two hours later, when they’re done with champagne and light refreshments and keynote speakers, Eduardo texts Mark come to the bathroom. now.
“Wardo?” Mark asks cautiously, pushing open the bathroom door, and Eduardo pushes him into a stall, locks the door, kisses him hard.
"Oh Jesus, Eduardo, we can't do this right now.”
"Tell me to stop," he says, rubbing the heel of his hand over Mark's crotch. Mark exhales, squeezes his eyes shut.
"Someone could come- fuck, Wardo, in, someone could come in," he pants, and Eduardo goes to his knees.
"Probably be the most exciting thing they’d have seen in a while."
Mark's head hits the stall as Eduardo licks up his cock.
"I don't like what you're implying about computer peopl- fuck, yes, Wardo-" he says, and stuffs a fist in his mouth because Eduardo's sucking on the head, lips popping off, and the noise is obscene. Mark's skin is flushed, he can feel it. He's sweating, panting, and he lets out a long moan when Eduardo pulls off, blows cold air over him.
"Fucking hurry," Mark says, taking his hand out his mouth, and then- "Eduardo, come- oh fuck come on Wardo yes. Yes yes, fucking- fuck-" as Eduardo nearly swallows him.
He comes and Eduardo swallows, licks him, kisses the juncture between hip and thigh. He stands up and leans against the other wall, breathing hard, and Mark fumbles his own pants shut and falls against Eduardo, pushes him hard against the wall and kisses him, nipping at his lips and then licking until Eduardo lets out a pained little exhale. He's hard against Mark's thigh.
"I can't believe no one's come in," Eduardo says, grinning wildly, and Mark palms him through his pants. Eduardo groans at the friction and thrusts his hips up.
"Shh," Mark whispers, unzipping his Armani pants. Eduardo would be wearing fucking Armani.
"Mm, fuck yes Mark yes like that," Eduardo says all in one exhale when Mark takes him in hand.
"Now, I can't do this the whole time," Mark says in a flat voice, but he can't stop grinning. "Because you'll come everywhere. Get everything dirty."
"Mmgh-" Eduardo pants, hips thrusting into Mark's fist, eyes locked on Mark's, wide and desperate.
"You can't go out there and they're all looking at you with come on your pants, like some teenage boy-"
"Mark-"
"And everyone knows just exactly what you've been doing-" he twists his wrist.
"Oh God oh fucking-" He's tensing like he's almost there. Mark drops to his knees, sucks hard, and Eduardo comes almost instantly, gasping out loud hot breaths. Mark stands up when he's done, and Eduardo pulls up his briefs, still breathing hard, grinning.
The door opens.
"Yes, well, I think it's an extremely exciting model for other businesses to follow-"
Eduardo's mouth opens and before Mark can even process it he's lifting Mark up against the opposite stall wall. Mark wraps his ankles around Eduardo's waist, automatically, so they’re out of sight.
Eduardo is completely silent, listening, eyes wide, and Mark can't even believe the position they're in. He bites his lip to keep from laughing, clamping his mouth shut, and Eduardo looks at him and his eyes crinkle shut and he chokes out a silent gasp of laughter. Mark lets his head lean back against the wall, and Eduardo buries his head in Mark's neck, shaking.
The men are washing their hands, still talking, and Mark leans forward on an impulse and presses his lips against Eduardo's.
He's still laughing but he kisses back, quietly, and Mark wraps a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him closer, and they're, yeah, they're full-on making out, albeit completely silently, which is really quite a feat. Mark slows it down when Eduardo exhales a little too loudly, pulls away, brushes his lips against the corner of Eduardo's mouth and Eduardo pushes him farther up the wall, hands under Mark's ass.
The men leave.
They stare at each other silently. Eduardo's arms are shaking a little. Mark squeezes his legs around Eduardo's torso, briefly.
"Want you to- to fuck me tonight," Mark says quietly, and Eduardo's hands tighten on his hips. They haven't done that. Mark's never asked.
"You sure?" Eduardo murmurs, and Mark pushes at his arms, drops his legs down.
"Let me-" Eduardo lets him stand up.
"Yeah, I'm sure," Mark says, straightening his suit jacket, and Eduardo zips up his pants, fingers still trembling.
----
They take a shower together that night, in Eduardo’s huge hotel room shower, both a little tipsy and tired and anticipatory, and Eduardo soaps up Mark’s back as they face each other, and Mark presses against him with a hot little exhale when Eduardo’s fingers slip into the crack of his ass.
“Hey,” Eduardo says, kissing Mark’s jaw, his temple, water running down both of their faces. He rubs the finger a little more deliberately, slip-sliding along the line, between, so fucking close, and Mark groans, pushing his hips against Eduardo’s, grabbing on with both hands. Eduardo’s skin is slippery and wet and tan and Mark licks his collarbone, sweet and soapy.
“C’mon,” Eduardo says, moving his hands up Mark’s back, until he’s massaging slow circles into Mark’s scalp and shoulders and Mark is melting against the wall of the shower, cold tile on his back and Eduardo hot against his front.
“Fuck,” he gets out, open mouth filling with water, and Eduardo puts his mouth against Mark’s cheek.
“Wash off and we’ll- in my bed. Yeah?”
Mark nods, and Eduardo smooths a hand over Mark’s ass, and Mark wants Eduardo inside him immediately.
He washes quickly and Eduardo steps out first, throwing him a towel. He is naked and Eduardo is naked and Mark wraps the towel around both of their hips and draws him in and they are kissing. It is the most intimate thing he’s ever done, the most open he’s ever felt. Eduardo’s hands cup Mark’s ass through the towel.
“You’re sure,” Eduardo says, and Mark’s muscles clench involuntarily, excitedly. He feels queasy in a delicious way.
“Yes, yeah. Wardo. Bed?” he stammers, and Eduardo laughs and pushes him into the bedroom, lays him out on the sheets. They’re still wet, but fuck it.
“I want to make you feel so good,” Eduardo murmurs against his ear, and Mark nods, suddenly speechless. It feels like some boundary’s going to be crossed, and he’s scared but he wants it. Eduardo- he just- he trusts Eduardo.
Eduardo rustles around for lube and condoms and Mark lays on his back, breathing slow and steady.
“Are you sure,” Eduardo asks again, looking down at him, and Mark pounds his fist on the mattress.
“I’m sure, Wardo, I swear. You seem to fucking like it.”
Eduardo laughs to himself, gets on his knees on the bed.
“I really do,” he says quietly. “I really like it, and I want you to like it.”
Mark stares at him. His heart hurts, in a good way. He thinks. Is there a good way to hurt?
Eduardo slicks up a finger and slips it in and Mark feels weird, he feels so weird. Eduardo nods questioningly at him and he nods in return and Eduardo rubs his other hand over Mark’s stomach and puts another finger in.
And Mark is chewing his lip nervously and Eduardo crooks his finger and hits- hits something and it unfolds in the pit of his stomach, warm and liquid and he moans, and yes, fuck yes there’s a good way to hurt.
“Mm, like that,” Eduardo asks quietly, and Mark nods, legs opening wider. Eduardo does it again, and again, and Mark is shaking trying to keep still, gasping out fast breaths through his mouth.
“One more, okay?”
The third burns but Eduardo finds the spot again right away and it feels so good, so insanely good. Mark is twisting his hips on Eduardo’s fingers, trying to push himself further down onto the bed, making these little desperate noises that he can’t even care enough about to be embarrassed by.
“God, you fucking love it,” Eduardo says in this low rough voice, eyes dark, and Mark is too far gone to be embarrassed. He wants Eduardo to fuck him. He has never specifically wanted that in his life but fuck he wants it now.
“Eduardo I really really need you,” Mark says all in one breath, and Eduardo nods jerkily, shoves a pillow under Mark’s hips. Mark lets his legs fall open even wider.
Eduardo pushes in slowly and it hurts but Mark just exhales carefully and Eduardo’s face is worth it.
“You are so fucking perfect,” Eduardo says shakily, and draws one of Mark’s legs up onto his hip with one hand. He slides out and then in again. Mark groans loose in his throat, kicks his other leg up around Eduardo’s waist, strangely reminiscent of how they’d been in the bathroom at the convention center.
"You- did I hit it? Do you feel good?" Eduardo asks, face concerned and shining with sweat, and Mark nods and pulls him closer, feeling so fucking loved. He hasn't exactly, yet, but when Eduardo thrusts in again Mark doesn't have to lie because he feels it and his eyes go wide and he makes a shocked sound, high in his throat.
Eduardo nods determinedly to himself and hits it again, and again, until Mark is shaking, fisting his hands in the 600 thread count sheets, babbling.
He runs a finger up Mark's cock, takes him in hand, and that's it, that's fucking it- he's coming everywhere, ass clenching spastically around Eduardo and it's white behind his eyes and he feels turned inside out but really, really fucking good.
He gusts out a long sigh and watches Eduardo's face, and deliberately, carefully squeezes again, drawing him in deeper, scratches his nails down Eduardo's lower back, and Eduardo groans out something in Portuguese, and says Mark Mark oh God Mark and comes.
He pulls out and Mark winces. The sting, the feeling of emptiness, is all new and Mark vaguely dislikes it but then Eduardo is walking into the bathroom, completely naked, and he comes back with a towel, wet with warm water. He washes Mark off in smooth strokes, and when the roughness of the towel hits Mark's nipple he makes a noise, and Eduardo leans down and sucks the nipple into his mouth, licks Mark's chest.
"Jesus, Wardo," Mark says weakly, and Eduardo keeps doing that, kissing him reverently on his chest and his belly, the concavities of his hips, the pale insides of his skinny thighs.
“Fucking love you,” he murmurs, into the spot right below Mark’s navel, and Mark exhales shakily, pulls Eduardo up by the shoulder until they’re at face level.
“You too,” he says, quiet, eyes nearly slipping shut. He’s bone-tired all of a sudden, pliant and warm and Eduardo throws the hand towel onto the floor and puts his hand flat on Mark’s chest, face pushed into his arm. Mark lays his head back, pulls the comforter up over them with one hand, and drops off to sleep.
----
The next morning Chris knocks on their door to wake them up.
“I tried Mark’s room already,” he says when Eduardo opens the door, yawning hugely. “I should have known.”
“Good morning to you too, Chris.”
“Morning. Our flight leaves in two hours, so we’re getting breakfast downstairs- you want?”
“Yeah,” Mark says, puling on a t-shirt.
“We’ll be right down, Chris, okay?”
“Yeah, we’ll meet you. Dustin is freaking out from hunger. He keeps clutching his stomach and moaning and opening and closing the mini fridge.”
“Tell him Pringles are not a healthy breakfast food,” Eduardo says, laughing, and Chris leaves.
“How are you?” Eduardo asks Mark once they’re alone. Mark’s trying to work the coffemaker, bleary-eyed and fucked out and achey in a good way.
“Good,” he mumbles, and Eduardo kisses his shoulder blade through the t-shirt, puts his hands on Mark’s hips from behind.
“Just get coffee downstairs, babe,” he says, and Mark has never been called anything like that in his life. He was never one for names. His few girlfriends had always been faintly annoyed by that.
He likes it, with Eduardo. He nods slightly, puts the coffee filter down.
Eduardo just touches his hip lightly and finishes getting dressed.
“There were no hot chicks at that thing,” Dustin grumbles, stuffing half a piece of toast in his mouth.
“It was pretty male-dominated,” Eduardo agrees thoughtfully. “There’s a real dearth of women in technology. I wonder why. Maybe just a historical bias, or -”
“Ugh, you’re boring,” Dustin groans, and Mark snorts. Eduardo rolls his eyes and takes a bite of omelet.
“Did you talk to Billy?” Chris asks, and Mark shakes his head.
“I mean, I said hi, I guess.”
“Did he...”
“Yeah.”
“Did he what?” Eduardo asks curiously.
“He always asks Mark to come work for him. Says there’s no one more creative in programming today.”
“How he got that idea from four months of coding in a dorm room I have no idea,” Mark says, and Dustin pokes him.
“Don’t be so modest, Marky.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“He hates nicknames,” Dustin explains to Eduardo, and Mark goes hot. Eduardo nods, saying softly, “I’ll keep that in mind,” and grins into his coffee and squeezes Mark’s thigh under the table.
---
Work goes on as usual, through the spring. The Congress is slow, (gridlock, of course) and there are a couple of close calls, crazy shit passed in the Senate, but they’ve held onto their majority in the House and nothing terrible’s getting through. Mark gets a little thrill of anger whenever he hears about the latest bullshit endeavor to defund Planned Parenthood or strengthen and expand DOMA or repeal some part of Medicare, and he’ll stay up with Eduardo for hours, yelling over Indian food, eventually passing out on Eduardo’s couch surrounded by scrunched up papers with incoherent notes on them, breathing curry-scented breaths into each other’s mouths and falling asleep curled together.
In April Senator Saverin introduces a bill as majority leader and it’s a fucking doozy. It’s a general commerce bill, but he’s tacked on some bullshit about custody rights for same sex couples, and tried to relate it to the economy with some shitty statistics about disparities in child support between heterosexual and homosexual couples.
It’s clearly anti-gay and it’s offensive and it’s annoying. Mark considers it an annoyance, because it won’t pass, but he finds Eduardo in his office, face tight, the night after it’s introduced and Mark realizes it’s a lot more than an annoyance to him.
Eduardo is massaging his neck with two fingers, peering at his computer screen, and Mark stands in the doorway.
“You okay?” he asks, and Eduardo jerks, startled.
“Hey- hey, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”
“So, that commerce bill-”
“Mark, I said I’m fine,” Eduardo says defensively.
“I was just going to ask if you think the CBO will approve that clause about soybean farming in Iowa,” Mark asks. Eduardo exhales and nods, and Mark comes to his side, leans against his desk.
“Eduardo, it’s not going to pass.”
“Oh great, so I can adopt as many fucking babies as I want, thanks, Mark,” Eduardo snaps, and Mark recoils.
“That’s not what I- fuck, never mind.”
“Mark, wait. I’m sorry, it’s just- it’s- you know how you said that thing, before, about how he just wants to be re-elected? That’s why he does everything, for re-election, for his constituents? I fucking wish that were it.” He stops, drumming his fingers against the desk. “I- Mark, he really thinks- well, you know.”
“No, I don’t,” Mark says carefully, and Eduardo digs the palms of his hands into his closed eyes.
“It’s not just about that, all of the things he does,” he says quietly, frustrated, weary. “He really thinks I’m- that I’m wrong. That it’s wrong.”
Mark nods quietly.
“Every single thing he says in the interviews, about caring about- about me or whatever, is a fucking lie,” Eduardo says roughly, and Mark’s chest hurts. His chest fucking hurts. He wants to kill Eduardo’s father, and he has never wanted to protect someone like this before. It’s terrifying.
“I’m sorry. Not- not for you, like that, I’m just sorry that he’s such a fucking idiot.”
Eduardo nods, head down, waves a stoic little hand at him like, I’m fine I’m fine and Mark isn’t great at this, he knows that, but can’t Eduardo give him some credit?
“Wardo, just.” He has no idea what to say, and settles for reaching up, putting his arms around Eduardo’s neck, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck. He doesn’t even consciously know what he’s doing but he wants to make Eduardo feel better. He wants Eduardo to feel amazing. He doesn’t ever want Eduardo to feel bad ever again, and it scares the shit out of him.
He wants Eduardo to feel amazing, and he wants Eduardo’s father to feel a great deal of pain.
So after he kisses Eduardo’s neck and squeezes his waist and leaves, he does something. He does some research, on the side, calls up old hacking tricks he hasn't used since college, and what he finds, after a month- it’s- it’s fucking perfect. Just perfect.
---
“What the fuck is this, mama? No- calm down. Calm down, it’ll be- mami, pare de chorar. Ma- venha, mami, it’s okay.”
Mark watches him. Eduardo’s pacing furiously in his apartment, fists clenched, and Mark feels a little like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Even though, technically, Eduardo hasn’t caught him yet.
Eduardo hangs up, rubs a tired hand on his temples.
“Jesus,” he says to himself.
“The latest in a string of Republican hypocritical sex scandals,” Mark says in an announcer’s voice, amused, and Eduardo shakes his head silently. Mark is a little giddy with it, with what he did for Eduardo.
“I just don’t understand how CNN got a hold of this,” Eduardo murmurs to himself. “The woman didn’t say anything.”
“The hooker,” Mark says triumphantly. “She was a hooker, Wardo.”
“Please don’t say that in public, okay?” Eduardo says, waving his hand at him.
“Why not? It’s true. Craigslist, Wardo. Could he be more of a cliche?”
Eduardo just stares into space, frowning. Mark is a little nonplussed. Eduardo should be more excited.
“Linda at the Post told me it was an anonymous tip,” Eduardo says. “I just- I don’t know.”
“Yeah, an anonymous tip from someone who knows where to look and has the technology to track IP addresses,” Mark says, faux-absently, grinning a little, and Eduardo nods and then realizes and looks at him.
“Mark. Oh- oh fuck Mark was this you?”
Mark shrugs conspiratorially, looking up at him, and Eduardo is not amused. In fact, he looks pretty fucking furious.
“You. You did this. You’re the one who ruined my mother’s life-”
“What? No!”
“Goddamnit, Mark!”
“I was trying to help,” Mark says hotly, going red, and Eduardo looks at him with a pained, disbelieving expression.
“Help? You thought this- this would help?”
“He’s a fucking hypocrite,” Mark mutters, and Eduardo makes a agonized little sound.
“You don’t want your mom to know that her husband-” Mark starts, and Eduardo puts a finger in his face. He’s shaking.
“You don’t think my mother knows he’s been fucking around on her? She fucking knows, alright? It’s been- god, Mark, it’s been twenty years-”
“Wait, what?” Mark asks, because- what?
Eduardo bares his teeth at him, eyes wide and wet. “Fuck, Mark, this is my fucking family. It’s my- my family.”
“I thought I was your family,” Mark says sullenly. Eduardo just looks away, scrolling frantically through his phone.
“I thought-” Mark says, louder. “I thought you didn’t care about him, Wardo.”
“Well, you caught me!” Eduardo yells, voice cracking, arms wide, and Mark looks down again. He hates when people yell.
“Eduardo,” he says quietly.
“I just- I need to be by myself right now, Mark, okay? I need to work some stuff out.”
“What kind of stuff?” Mark says, suddenly terrified out of his mind. Fuck. Fuck.
Eduardo doesn’t look up from his phone. “Just family stuff,” he says, voice flat. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Mark says, standing up. “Okay.”
He shuts the door behind him and sits down heavily on the steps of Eduardo’s apartment building. He does not- he can not fuck this up.
---
Eduardo doesn’t call the next day, and Mark nearly wears the button off his phone from checking so often. That evening Eduardo leaves for Greece, and he still hasn’t called, and Mark fucked up. He is so scared that he fucked this up.
And as usual when he fucks up, he talks to Chris.
Chris is at his desk, typing furiously, and Mark knocks cautiously. He’s finished most of his actual assigned work for the day, and unless the President kills someone or gets killed himself he’s fine.
“Yeah,” Chris says, and Mark spits out the string of his hoodie.
“You heard about Wardo’s dad,” Mark says, leaning against Chris’ desk.
“Of course. How is he?”
“How is he? He should be fine. It’s - fuck, it’s the enemy, isn’t it, Chris?”
“Well, yeah, but it’s his family.”
“He fucking hates him!”
Chris looks up, cocks his head.
“Wait, who?”
“I don’t know. Eduardo. His father. They- he’s a bad person.”
“Oh, fuck, Mark.”
Mark zips and unzips his hoodie guiltily.
“You leaked it?”
“I thought he was going to be happy,” Mark mumbles, and Chris shakes his head.
“You are such an awful excuse for a normal human being,” Chris mutters, and Mark sticks the string in his mouth again. His eyes hurt. He’s exhausted and he’s terrified and if he loses Eduardo he has no idea what he’s going to do.
“Mark. Hey, Mark.”
Mark shakes his head, looking away, knee jittering, and Chris stands up and puts his arms around him.
“Hey. He’s- it’s going to be fine. What did he say?”
“Said he needed to work some stuff out,” Mark says weakly, arms at his side, and Chris keeps an arm around him, sits next to him.
“I can’t fucking- I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“I know.”
“What do I do?”
Chris sighs, and stands up. Mark’s hunched over, scratching at his arm with the other hand.
“Just explain. No- don’t explain. Just apologize.”
Mark snorts.
“I know that’s not your strong suit. But as the press director of the fucking White House, I’m really really good at it. And you need to.”
Mark laughs, and Chris slaps him on the knee. “You can do it. Just think about Eduardo, about how much you care about him-” Mark ducks his head, going hot- “seriously, Mark, and then say sorry. A bunch of times. As many times as it takes.”
Mark nods, and Chris sits down at his desk again. “Now get out. I have to fix someone else’s problems.”
“Thanks,” Mark says unwillingly, and Chris makes a simultaneously annoyed and worried and fond face and waves him out.
---
Eduardo’s still gone the next night, and Mark calls him at two AM.
He’s sitting at his desk, head throbbing, and it feels eerily reminiscent of that night when he’d fucked everything up before.
Except Eduardo sighs when he picks up the phone, and he doesn’t sound warm.
“Mark,” he says instead of “hello”, and Mark is silent for a second.
“Hey,” he says finally, when Eduardo coughs pointedly. “I- how’s Greece?”
“Stressful. What is it, Mark?”
“I just- you said you’d call. Before you left. I hadn’t heard from you.”
Eduardo exhales. “I’ve been emailing you all day, Mark.”
“Not- not that. You know what I mean.”
There’s a silence.
“I’m just trying to work some shit out,” Eduardo says, and Mark squeezes his eyes shut, focuses on keeping his breath steady.
“Wardo-”
“I need to sleep, Mark. I’m so fucking jetlagged. Okay?”
“Yeah,” Mark says reluctantly.
“I just- we’ll talk tomorrow. Or Wednesday. My schedule is insane here.”
“Okay, I just-”
“Good night, Mark.”
“I miss you,” Mark blurts out. “I- good night.”
He hears Eduardo breathing, and folds an automatically defensive arm across his chest.
“Bye,” Eduardo says softly, and hangs up.
Mark leans back in his chair, breath coming too fast, panicky. His head is pounding. He is scared.