fic: crept out the front door slow (part 2)
fic: crept out the front door slow (part 2/4)
fandom: the social network
pairing: mark/eduardo
notes: for the tsn_kinkmeme prompt: "Eduardo has this thing, where whenever he's drunk drunk, he basically makes out with whoever's around." and became an extremely long angstfest of feelings.
title is from atmosphere's "yesterday"
They're lying on their sides on Mark's bed, facing each other, and Mark's eyes are slipping shut but he feels Eduardo touch his mouth, delicately, with one hand.
He opens his eyes. Eduardo is staring at him, blinking, eyes bright and drunk.
"Hey," he says, putting one hand on Mark's hip, and Mark squeezes his eyes shut for a second to try and stop his head from spinning.
"You- you like me when I'm sober?" Mark asks, but it comes out flat at the end, like a statement, or a command. Eduardo lets his head loll backwards a little, nods.
"Like you all the time," he says quietly.
"Then why did you- why did you fuck those other people," Mark says, and bites his lip to keep himself quiet. Eduardo looks sad.
"I don't know," he says. "I just. They wanted me."
Mark doesn't know what to say.
At least someone wants you, he thinks, but at the same time he knows he should feel bad, like in a movie where the rich popular guy suddenly has secret awful deep secrets and everyone's supposed to pity him.
Fuck, he is drunk still. He should have not had had that much vodka.
"You've just- you've had sex with a lot of people," he says, knowing he shouldn't finish the sentence, knowing he shouldn't have started the sentence, but fuck it.
Eduardo's blushing, looking away, and Mark says, "And- and I haven't had sex with anyone."
Oh God he think he might throw up.
"With any guys?" Eduardo asks, brow creasing in confusion, and Mark's stomach churns.
"With anyone," he clarifies, and Eduardo looks shocked.
Of course he's shocked.
Because it's not fucking normal. He's eighteen. He's in college.
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah, I'm fucking-" Mark exhales and rolls onto his back. "I'm pretty fucking ugly, if you haven't noticed, Wardo."
"What?" Eduardo says, rolling onto his belly, pushing himself up on one elbow to see Mark's face.
"And I'm an asshole."
"No, no, you're- Jesus, Mark. You're not ugly. You- God, you're-" he laughs. "You're so not ugly. Do you know how- how attracted to you I've been? Since the beginning of the year, Mark. You're so. Mark-" and then he's kissing Mark, not hard, but with tongue and Mark turns his head and kisses back.
They do that for a minute, and Eduardo pulls away slightly and says, in a low voice, "I'd make it so fucking good for you."
Mark keeps his eyes closed. He can feel Eduardo breathing.
"Seriously, Mark," he says, kissing his chest through the T-shirt, sloppily. "I'd - you'd never want to fuck anyone else ever again, I swear."
Mark swallows hard.
"You'd do it sober?" he asks, and opens his eyes. Eduardo is staring at him.
"Wardo. Have you even done it with anyone when you were-"
"Yeah," Eduardo cuts in defensively. "A girl in high school."
"Not with a guy."
"Mark-"
"You're such a-" he sighs. He honestly doesn't know how he was going to finish that sentence.
"I'm sorry," Eduardo says quietly, and rolls away. Mark just lies still.
"I'd still want to," he says, when he's sitting up on the edge of the bed. "I- Mark, I would."
He stands up shakily, and leaves.
Mark sighs and closes his eyes.
---
He wakes up some time later, gets to his feet and stumbles into the common room.
Dustin's still passed out on the couch, and Mark pushes his feet up and sits down. Dustin's feet flop back down on his lap.
Mark is still drunk. That goes without saying. He turns the TV on, mouth set in a line, blinking heavily.
He reaches for the glass of water Dustin left, and Dustin makes a little noise, pushes his head further into the couch.
He doesn't know where Chris is. He wonders if Chris is having sex with a guy.
He hopes Eduardo is not having sex with a guy.
He passes out there, and when he wakes up the next morning, head pounding, neck stiff, the TV is off and there's a blanket thrown over both of them.
He has a new text, from 3:44 AM.
i didn't do anything wit anyone tonight. i reallywant you inside me mark please
Mark chokes when he reads it, and deletes it out of shock more than anything else. He leans his head back against the couch. He's excited and scared and confused and having this many feelings fucking sucks, especially when he's hungover and bleary-eyed. He closes his eyes again, and slips back into sleep.
----
He wakes up at eleven and flips through the TV idly, too hungover to grab his laptop from his room. Dustin's head is pushed up against Mark's thigh. He's snoring.
At noon, he gets another text.
i'm sorry about last night. i hadn't been that drunk in a while.
Mark frowns slightly, biting his lip, and types-
did you not mean what you said
Eduardo doesn't respond until six PM that night, when Mark's lying on his stomach on his bed, headphones in, coding.
i meant it.
Mark exhales when he reads it, picturing Eduardo typing that out, saying it, sober and willing and fucking aware of what he's doing.
He gets hard.
He reaches a hand down and grips his cock, wriggles out of his sweatpants and pushes himself up on his elbows to get leverage.
He digs his teeth into his wrist, mouth wet against the skin, and strokes, hard, hips rutting against the bed, echoing in his head, still- i really want you inside me. i meant it.
When he comes, eyes closed, breathing out hard into his arm, he rolls over onto his back and grabs a Kleenex off the floor.
He is going to lose his virginity. Sometime soon.
And it's going to be with Eduardo, with his ridiculously perfect ass and bright smile and stupid fluffy perfect hair.
He cannot fuck this up.
He's so fucking horny, for the next week, and at the same time he keeps thinking I don't want to hurt him I don't want to hurt him please let me not hurt him.
He googles it, which is embarrassing. But it's not like he's going to ask Chris.
He reads about lube and condoms and the prostate gland and he watches porn. He jerks off in front of his computer, head on his desk, mouth open against the dusty wood, thrusting into his fist.
He goes out to dinner and lunch with Dustin and Chris and Eduardo, and he can't stop staring at Eduardo's mouth.
He has read about rimming, about what that is, and he wonders if Eduardo would like it. He personally thinks it sounds sort of gross, but also maybe like it could be completely fucking awesome.
He knows Eduardo will be on the bottom. Mark wonders if he'll ever want to do that. Maybe. Not for his first time, though.
Mark watches blow jobs too, grainy videos on amateur websites. He sucks a finger, once, just trying it, imagines it's Eduardo's cock. It feels weird, but good.
It's too hard to tell, really. What it's like.
Mark is so distracted and so confused and Eduardo smiles slowly at him across the Kirkland d-hall table. Mark doesn't know what to do, really. How does one plan sex?
Oh God he's going to have sex.
---
He's in the library with Eduardo on Thursday night, feet kicked up onto a table.
Eduardo's muttering to himself, poring through a macro textbook, and Mark looks up from his laptop and says casually, "So, Dustin has that conference thing, in Boston, this weekend."
"Oh yeah, the Hillel thing?" Eduardo asks distractedly, still reading. "I didn't even think he was that Jewish."
"He just wants to bang that Becca chick," Mark says, and Eduardo snorts.
"But, uh. He's gone for the weekend. And Chris is in D.C. for the weekend, at the College Dems thing."
"Tringle!" Eduardo says, laughing, and flips a page.
"I mean." Mark exhales hard, frustrated. "Never mind."
"You're all by yourself," Eduardo says, and grins slowly at him. "I get it, Mark."
Mark goes red. "Yeah, well, I don't know," he mutters.
"Do you want to hang out on Saturday night?" Eduardo asks pointedly.
"If you want," he grumbles. Eduardo curls a hand around Mark's bare foot on the table for a second. Mark nearly jumps. His hand is cold.
"I'll come over," he says softly, and grins again. Mark nods, shoots another look at him, then looks down.
He buys condoms and lube at CVS.
He is mildly embarrassed about it, but he just glares at the register lady, hard. He knows he looks sixteen on a good day. But he could be having fully legal sex with another sixteen year old, it's none of her business.
He puts the stuff in his desk drawer, exhales, and sits down to code.
It is Friday and he is most definitely going to have sex tomorrow.
Holy shit.
---
So Eduardo comes over on Saturday, at six, and Mark is so fucking keyed up he can barely look at him.
"Dinner?" he suggests, voice cracking, and Eduardo nods, eyes inscrutable. He seems excited, but Mark cannot tell.
He needs Eduardo to be excited.
Eduardo is wearing tight black pants and a black button down and he looks so good. Mark wants to put his hand on the small of Eduardo's back, like a date.
He doesn't do it. He stares at Eduardo as much as he can without getting caught, but Eduardo catches him anyway and smiles.
When the door of Mark's room is shut behind them, Mark turns around to face Eduardo and leans up on his toes, kisses him.
He starts it gentle and close-mouthed, but he opens his mouth to breathe and Eduardo does too and Eduardo slips his tongue in Mark's mouth and Mark inhales hard, puts a hand onto Eduardo's back and pushes him against the door.
He has been so worried about how Eduardo will feel, about how it will feel, about how he might mess up or be terrible and it will fuck up everything.
He nearly forgot how fucking attracted to Eduardo he is.
Which is close to impossible.
"Let's- to your bedroom," Eduardo says, voice a little weak. Mark checks on him briefly, studies him. He seems okay.
"I want it," Eduardo whispers into his ear, like a confession, and Mark can feel his skin go hot.
"Fuck, me too," he says back, hard already, fingers sliding down Eduardo's hips, and Eduardo pulls away, pulls him into the bedroom.
They just kiss for a while, lying down, which is nice. Mark is nervous. There is a condom and a thing of lube next to the bed. Eduardo had put his head down and grinned when Mark had fumbled them out of his desk drawer.
"I haven't," Eduardo says quietly against Mark's mouth. "You know, I don't remember that much- its- it's fuzzy."
Mark nods, kisses him again. At least it's even there at all. He's the one who has no idea what he's doing.
"Just, give me your hand," Eduardo says, pulling away, and takes Mark's fingers into his mouth. Mark sucks in a breath, pushing his finger a little farther, and Eduardo swirls his tongue around two of Mark's fingers, carefully, almost business-like.
"Jesus," Mark breathes out, and Eduardo looks at him, notices how fucking turned on he is.
His eyes go heavy and half-lidded then, and he looks like a porn star. He sucks at Mark's fingers with more intent.
"Fuck, Wardo," Mark says, staring unblinking at his fingers disappearing into Eduardo's mouth. Eduardo opens his mouth, catches a third finger, and recommences sucking.
Mark is like, really fucking hard, and he could probably watch Eduardo lick his fingers all night, but then Eduardo takes Mark's hand out his mouth, and something twists queasily in the pit of his stomach.
"Okay," Eduardo says, and leans up and kisses Mark again. "Can you- can you put your fingers in me?"
Mark nods, stomach still fluttering with nerves, hand slick with saliva, and Eduardo pushes at him until he's on his knees next to him on the bed. Eduardo grabs a pillow, slides it under his hips, spreads his legs. He's hard and Mark stares, because he's never seen another guy's cock before, not in real life. It looks mostly the same. Eduardo is so tan.
"C'mon," Eduardo says, voice a little shaky, legs open and exposed, and Mark leans down on some random impulse and puts his mouth on Eduardo's inner thigh, kisses the skin.
Eduardo smells good, like sex, something deep and undefinably male. Mark breathes through his nose, face pushed into Eduardo's skin, and Eduardo puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Mark," he says, unsure.
"Yeah," Mark says, lifting his head, and licks his own finger again for good measure, rubs around Eduardo's hole, not inside, not yet.
Eduardo groans, like it's turning him on already, which is just ridiculously hot.
Mark read about this, about making it good for the guy on the bottom. He goes slow like it said to. He uses one finger first, until Eduardo is less tight.
Eduardo is trembling, silent, and when Mark glances up at him his eyes are closed.
Mark puts lube on his fingers because they don't seem wet enough, and slips two in. Eduardo huffs out a breath, biting his lip.
"You okay?" he asks, and Eduardo nods, opens his eyes. His pupils are blown.
"Oh fuck," he says suddenly, and Mark looks up with concern.
"Do that again," he says, and Mark doesn't even know what he was doing, but he pushes his fingers again and Eduardo's hips jerk.
"Oh fuck, yes," he says. Mark watches in fascination and does it again. Eduardo is pushing himself down further onto Mark's fingers, hands planted flat on the bed.
"You can do three," he says. "Three. Mark. Now."
Mark nods quickly, and slips his fingers out, then back in. He finds that spot again, right away, and Eduardo nods, chest shining with sweat.
"Is that right," Mark says, and Eduardo nods.
"Yes," he says, garbled and frantic. "Oh, shit, yes."
Mark is so hard.
He is in his dorm room, fingering his best friend, and he is so insanely hard.
"Hey," Eduardo says, tugging at his arm. "Hey, yeah, you should fuck me now."
Mark laughs, wild and high in his throat. He doesn't even sound like himself. This is it.
"Okay," he says, and takes his fingers out of Eduardo reluctantly. Eduardo hisses softly.
"I have to," Mark explains incoherently, and grabs the condom packet, opens it with his teeth.
He rolls it on easily enough. He practiced.
"More, uh- yeah," Eduardo says, when Mark grabs the lube.
He lines up, carefully, stomach churning, face hot, and Eduardo puts a hand on his hip.
"It's okay," he says, and Mark pushes in, lips tight with concentration. Eduardo breathes out sharply, closes his eyes.
"You're okay?" he says, and Eduardo nods.
"Go further," he says, and his voice is all choky and strained.
Mark moves his hips slowly in, eyes wide, disbelieving, and fuck it feels so so insanely fucking good. His muscles jerk helplessly. He thinks he might come, but he breathes slowly, and puts a hand on the bed next to Eduardo's hips, and calms down.
He looks at Eduardo and Eduardo is staring at him.
"C'mon," he says very quietly, and draws Mark closer with one hand on his back, spreads his legs wider.
Mark is trying to simultaneously balance himself over Eduardo and not come immediately. It is hard. He didn't realize sex would be hard, that he'd be breathing quickly and his face would be sweating.
"Move," Eduardo chokes out, and wraps a leg awkwardly around Mark's hips.
Mark thrusts all the way in, slowly, and then out, and in. His heart is pounding.
"You can go a little faster," Eduardo says, fingers gripping tight on Mark's waist. Mark nods and does so, and Eduardo clenches briefly around him, groans out, "oh Jesus, yeah, that's it."
Mark's eyes squeeze shut and he heaves a huge, shuddery breath through his chest, trying not to come.
Eduardo pulls Mark against his chest, kisses him sloppily, teeth clacking together, and Mark's somehow still fucking him through it, moving in and out in shallow thrusts. Eduardo's feet are digging into Mark's back, just above his tailbone, and it hurts a little but he doesn't really care.
"Mark," Eduardo says in between kisses, mouth open and wet.
"Mark, can you-" he takes one of Mark's hands and puts it on his cock. Mark squeezes and Eduardo chokes, nearly biting off Mark's bottom lip.
"Yes, yeah," he pants. Mark keeps doing that, jerking Eduardo off in unsteady arrhythmic strokes, and Eduardo keeps flexing around him, and it is hard and it is not perfect but it is working.
He can feel that he's going to come.
He doesn't know the etiquette. Does he say something?
In the end it doesn't matter, because Eduardo clenches hard and twists his hips, just slightly, and Mark comes without warning, groaning low in his throat, and his hips keep jerking through it.
"Mark," Eduardo says, kicking at him, voice gone desperate. Mark remembers and grabs Eduardo's cock again, and it only takes a couple strokes before Eduardo is coming in his hand and on his stomach, muscles flexing wildly, drawing in loud breaths through his open mouth.
Mark pulls out, exhaling hard, and rolls over next to him. His muscles are shaky with exhaustion. He feels good, so so fucking good. He grabs at Eduardo's hip, rubs his fingers over Eduardo's warm skin, and falls asleep.
---
He wakes up sometime later, maybe a half hour, and turns his head. Eduardo's on his side, facing away from Mark, and it takes a second for Mark to realize he's shaking. Mark frowns.
"Hey, Wardo," he says sleepily, putting a hand on his shoulder. Eduardo puts one finger up, in a wait a second gesture.
"I'm sorry," he says, voice shaky. Mark forces himself awake.
"Wardo? Are you okay? Did I-"
"No, no, you- everything's fine. Just." He draws in a breath, still curled on his side. Mark wants to see his face. If he can see Eduardo's face he will know what to do.
He sits up, tugs at Eduardo's shoulder.
"Please tell me what's wrong," he says, and there must be a note of desperation in his voice because Eduardo rolls over slightly and looks up at him.
"Nothing's wrong," Eduardo says, mouth curling up in a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He looks tired, scared.
"You're lying."
"Mark. It's not you. It's just-" he pauses, and takes a deep breath, heavy, like he's been holding it in since Mark fell asleep. "I'm such a slut," he whispers, and puts his hands over his face.
"No no no," Mark says panickedly, rolling him onto his back and clutching at him. "Jesus, Wardo, no you're not."
Eduardo isn't making sounds, really, just heavy wet-sounding breaths. Mark rubs his hand over Eduardo's chest.
"C'mon, Wardo, you're not. It's me. We- it's okay that we. It's okay to want something."
Eduardo laughs and it sounds like a sob.
"I know what he told you but Wardo, c'mon."
"It's not you, Mark, I swear to God, I," Eduardo chokes out.
Mark swallows hard.
He doesn't have the words, to make Eduardo feel okay.
He never has the words for anything. He is not good at words.
Eduardo wipes a hand over his nose, and Mark keeps holding him, because it's all he can do.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Eduardo keeps saying, softly, like he doesn't even know he's saying it.
"Don't say you're sorry. You had sex. Everyone does it. You know how much I wanted to have sex with you? Am I a slut?"
"Shut up, Mark, you're not," Eduardo says.
"Then how the fuck are you?"
"I just- I'm not supposed to-" he breaks off.
"You think Chris is messed up? Think he's a slut or something?"
"No," Eduardo admits miserably.
"Be logical," Mark says, and puts his head down against Eduardo's chest. He barely even knows what he's saying now. "Just- you're fine. You're not that."
Eduardo is nodding along with Mark, breath slowing, eyes closed, and Mark is sticky and hot and naked but he thinks he could maybe stay there forever.
"Just chill," Mark says then, nonsensically, something bubbling in his stomach, anticipatory and nervous, and he lets his mouth open against Eduardo's stomach.
Eduardo nods again, and Mark drags his mouth down to Eduardo's navel, licks around it. Eduardo tastes salty, smells like heated cologne.
"Mark," Eduardo says, and Mark draws his fingers over Eduardo's cock, lightly.
"Jesus Christ," Eduardo says, whole body shivering, and Mark does it again, bites gently at the juncture between hip and thigh.
He's pretty sure he's about to give Eduardo a blow job.
He really, really wants to, at least.
He puts his hand cautiously on Eduardo's cock again, and Eduardo exhales softly, starts getting hard. And what the fuck, that's amazing.
"Fucking- are you sure, Mark," Eduardo says, and Mark sticks his nose into the curls at the base.
Fuck, Eduardo smells good.
"Yeah," he murmurs softly, inhaling deeply. Eduardo makes a pained sound.
"Jesus Christ, Mark," he says, looking down at him, and Mark is scared but he knows what to do, he does- he holds Eduardo's cock at the base and puts his mouth around it, carefully, sucks his lips over his teeth, and Eduardo is making sounds like sobbing.
"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," Eduardo says when Mark bends his head further. Mark is surprised, a little.
He realizes, in a second- he has no idea if anyone has ever given Eduardo a blow job.
That makes him hot, makes his cheeks flush, makes him want to be able to deepthroat like he saw in the porn clips.
He can't yet though, so he goes as deep as he can, hollows his cheeks experimentally.
"Christ," Eduardo gasps out. Mark wants to smile, but he is too busy licking Eduardo's cock.
He is hard again. He needs to get off, or keep sucking, or both.
He moves his hips against the bed, and keeps hollowing his cheeks. It's easier than he thought, natural. It feels viscerally satisfying, good, hot and solid in his mouth. He could do it for a while, he thinks.
Except Eduardo is gasping above him, pounding his fist against the mattress in tight controlled movements, and he says, "Jesus, yes, Mark, oh fuck Mark," and comes.
Mark stays still and keeps his eyes closed and it doesn't taste good, but it's not awful. He stands up, still hard, and spits in the sink.
"Holy shit, Mark," Eduardo says, flat on his back. Mark grins and looks at him and Eduardo licks his lips and beckons to him, smiles hesitantly.
Mark is so far gone.
He curls his hands around Eduardo's biceps as Eduardo jerks him off, scraping his teeth over Mark's shoulder.
"God yes Wardo," Mark gasps, pushing his hips as far as he can towards Eduardo on the bed, and Eduardo licks the spot he just bit, then blows air over it.
Mark comes.
This time he doesn't fall asleep, doesn't leave Eduardo alone with his stupid, overwhelming fear of himself.
He tugs on Eduardo's arm, says, "Come take a shower."
Eduardo protests sleepily, but lets Mark drag him up.
They are in the suite bathroom, which is filthy. Eduardo kicks on Dustin's flip-flops and steps into the tiny shower, shoes squeaking.
No one has ever seen Mark naked, fully naked, except Eduardo.
He tries not to feel self-conscious, but it's hard. Because Eduardo is a lean tall expanse of smooth, tan, skin, and Mark is short and pale and gawky.
Eduardo kisses him under the water, though, till soap runs into their mouths and he pulls away, spits on the floor of the shower, laughing.
Mark rubs soap down Eduardo's back, then gently, carefully, over his ass, and Eduardo leans his head against the cold tile wall, stares at him with soft eyes, licking his lips, letting Mark touch him.
Mark is not stupid. He knows he cannot fix Eduardo in one night.
He wants to, though. He wants to try.
---
Mark manhandles Eduardo into a towel, and silently brings him a pair of boxers.
Eduardo accepts the offer, and turns his back on Mark to change. His ass is just ridiculous.
"You can come back to sleep now," Mark says, lying down awkwardly on the bed, and Eduardo nods, lies down by his side without touching him, until Mark exhales and rolls over, half on top of him.
"Thought I was supposed to be sleeping," Eduardo murmurs, but his hand comes up to rest on Mark's back.
Mark pushes himself up by his toes, and kisses him, softly, trying to say what he can't out loud without sounding like a girl.
Eduardo seems to get it. He makes a soft sound in his throat, and lets Mark rub a thumb over his cheekbone.
"Mark," he murmurs, dazed and exhausted and freshly showered and fucked out, and Mark pulls back, pillows his head on Eduardo's chest and closes his eyes.
--
They wake up slowly, and it's light out. Sunlight is filtering softly in through the blinds. Eduardo opens his eyes and Mark opens his, and they both squint at the ceiling. Mark rolls halfway over, onto his side. Eduardo turns his head to look at him.
"So, you're not a virgin anymore," Eduardo says, voice hoarse, and grins. He seems happy. Happier than last night.
"I'm aware."
"Do you- um, are you happy?" Eduardo asks shyly. Mark sneaks a look at him. His cheeks are pink.
"Ehh," he says, deliberately wishy-washy, and when Eduardo looks at him he has to bite his lip to keep from grinning.
"I totally faked it," he adds, and Eduardo shoves him, laughing. Mark laughs too, a little bit, and Eduardo pushes his face up close to Mark's, breathes lightly on his lips.
"I, uh, I really, really liked it," Mark says dizzily, and Eduardo kisses him, too quickly, pulls away. Leans in and does it again, and then again, and Mark is breathing open-mouthed, eyes closed, fingers tingling, and after four times he curls a hand around Eduardo's neck when he does it, keeps him there.
Eduardo's whole body shivers when Mark holds him in place.
Mark's mouth quirks up at the edges as he kisses Eduardo, lingering and wet and sweet.
He had sex. Fuck yes.
---
Dustin cocks his head, stares at Mark. Eduardo is changing, and Mark is fucking starving. Dustin's back from his conference, apparently, and Mark already misses him being gone.
"You had sex!" Dustin says triumphantly.
Mark rolls his eyes and pours himself a bowl of cereal.
"You're weird, Dustin," he says, but he physically cannot keep from grinning.
"Oh my God, you did. You had sex. Mark had se-ex. I'm so proud!"
Mark shakes his head. Dustin is doing a ridiculous victory dance, with his hands above his head, spinning around and chanting "sex, sex, sex! "
"Why," Eduardo says as he walks in, scratching his stomach, T-shirt riding up. Mark's T-shirt. Okay, then.
Dustin stops dancing, giggles guiltily.
Mark shoots him a look.
"Nice shirt," Dustin says, smirking.
"Ha. Thanks," Eduardo says, bleary-eyed, and he grabs the mug of coffee out of Mark's hand, takes a gulp.
"Hey," Mark says without heat.
"It's okay, you guys have shared a lot," Dustin says, voice choky with laughter. "No germs you haven't already gotten."
Mark rolls his eyes and looks at Eduardo, expecting him to mirror it, but Eduardo looks at him with a curious expression- carefully happy, measured, edges of his lips curling up just slightly.
"I should go, because I have, uh, a meeting. With my advisor," Eduardo says, and Mark nods.
"Come back soon, y'hear?" Dustin calls in an awful Southern accent, and Eduardo shuts the door quietly behind him, sending Mark one last strange smile.
"Where was I…" Dustin muses, tapping his lip. "Oh yeah. Sex! Sex! Sex! One night stand with a Brazilian god!"
"Shut the fuck up, Dustin," Mark says, and sits down at his computer.
Eduardo is still wearing his shirt.
He thinks Eduardo is okay. For now, at least.
He wants Eduardo to be okay all the time, but he is not a miracle-worker.
---
And that is how it goes.
It's not that different from before.
Except now Mark knows what Eduardo looks like when he is coming, how his eyes and his mouth open and he sucks in a huge breath, the biggest breath, and exhales loud and rough.
How it feels, inside him.
How he tastes, all the time, mouth slick and sweet.
And the year is almost over, and how is that possible?
They hook up all the time, whenever they can.
Dustin and Chris make fun of them, but Mark doesn't give a shit.
They are proud of him, he thinks, too. Because Eduardo was so messed up, was such a drunk fucking mess.
And he still drinks, sometimes, and he still gets teasing and giggly and horny when he's drunk, but Mark is there, and it's funny, now.
It's become cute again, a party trick.
Mark wishes it just didn't happen at all, but it is better than before.
--
And the weeks pass and Mark has so much sex. He feels like a stud. Like a man, for the first time in his life.
Eduardo loves to get fucked.
Mark will never tell him that, though, because Eduardo is still shy, still scared and unsure of what it means. What it means that he always wants Mark inside him, that he keeps asking for Mark to- yeah, with the fingers? can you? shit, please, Mark, another one, yeah-
That he came once just from Mark's fingers, three of them, twisting inside him. Just from that. What the actual fuck.
God, Eduardo likes it.
Mark is pretty sure that if they could spend the rest of the year with his fingers or his dick up inside Eduardo's ass, Eduardo would be happy.
Mark would be pretty fucking happy, too.
He really likes blowing Eduardo. He's good at it now, better than before.
He puts his fingers inside Eduardo, now, when he's blowing him.
Eduardo comes apart underneath him.
Mark could do that for a while.
Except then it's finals week, and he doesn't see Eduardo for three days.
He gets texts, like hey how was your cs final? or sorry didn't come by, econ is killing me.
He is pretty fucking busy too, because he is a freshman and his core classes are killing him. He does not want to write about fucking Shakespeare. Shakespeare is not important, when Mark can hack into the databases of most major corporations and steal their information in ten minutes.
Shakespeare could not do that.
---
Finally, he's halfway through his finals, on a Monday night, and Eduardo comes by the room.
Dustin and Chris are out, in the library.
Eduardo comes by, and Mark stands up from the computer, sprawls on the couch and Eduardo sets down his backpack, sits next to him.
Then he says, "Mark- Mark, we have to talk about this summer, and everything."
And then he is saying, "I don't think we should. Mark, I don't think we should keep doing this, over the summer."
Mark says, "Well yeah you're in Florida, we can't keep having sex."
And Eduardo says, "That's not what I mean."
"Mark," Eduardo says, and Mark tries to understand. He is swallowing hard, and blinking, and he cannot look at Eduardo's face.
"I just- I think- it's just the summer. I need to go home, work some stuff out, and I don't want to lead you on-"
"Lead me on," Mark says flatly, skeptically.
"- yeah, Mark. I can't do that. I can't go home and be with you and it's three months away-"
"You're breaking up with me," Mark says.
"We weren't dating," Eduardo says automatically, and goes red. "I'm sorry. Next year I want to- I want to try again, I do, but when I'm in Miami, you know-"
"Scared your father will ask what you've been doing for the past year?" Mark asks harshly. Eduardo winces, looks at him with big eyes.
"Please," he says. "Next year. Please, Mark."
"Or maybe you want to be single so there's no excuse for you not to fuck everyone in fucking Florida," Mark says, voice tight and mean, and Eduardo exhales shakily.
"I swear to God that's not-" he says, voice trembling. "Mark. I haven't hooked up with anyone else since we started."
"But now we're ended, so, go for it!"
"I'm trying not-" Eduardo says, voice nearly cracking. "I know I'm a- " he shuts his mouth hard, shakes his head. Mark is shaken, because he was scared Eduardo was going to say slut like it's a reflex. Mark does not want it to be a reflex.
He never wanted to be the one making Eduardo think that about himself.
"You're not," Mark says stubbornly, though Eduardo didn't finish his sentence.
Eduardo nods. "I know," he says softly.
"I can't be around my family and be with you at the same time," he says.
"Why can't you just lie?"
Eduardo makes a pained sound in his throat.
"It's not that easy, Mark."
"It's not fair," Mark says, and he knows he sounds like a kid. He steps closer to Eduardo, into his heat, spreads his hands on Eduardo's hips.
Eduardo exhales, ducks his head and breathes against Mark's face, gently, for a moment.
"Please," he says, and kisses Mark's closed eyelid, then the sharp curve of his jaw.
"I don't want you to be waiting, you know, if you meet someone, a girl, you should be able to do what you want-"
Mark can't hear him talk like that, so he tilts his head up and kisses him.
Eduardo kisses back, in that way he's been doing for the last couple weeks, lingering, searching, like he's trying to remember something he's lost.
There is not enough time for Mark to do all of the things he wants to do.
Because finals are nearly over. Mark has not slept in 36 hours. Eduardo is so fucking gorgeous.
He has not slept, and Eduardo is warm and present and in front of him, and there is so little time.
Mark worries so much, a constant throbbing undercurrent in his mind. He thinks about Eduardo, fucked open and bleeding and sobbing, awful shit, sick shit, like a man with graying fading hair trying to fit his fist inside Eduardo or three guys, big, like rowers or lacrosse players, passing him around like a fucking party favor.
He thinks about these things and he feels sick. He feels perverted and awful and so worried.
He can't tell anyone about what he thinks, when his mind is at its most raw, when he's exhausted and bitter.
Eduardo pulls away, presses one last kiss to Mark's lips, exhales softly against Mark's lips and Mark rubs his hands softly down into the small of Eduardo's back.
"Fuck," Eduardo says miserably, and Mark opens his eyes.
"You need to sleep," he says to Mark. Mark rolls his eyes.
"I still have an OS final problem set due," he says.
"Yeah, in two days. Now, sleep."
"Wardo-"
"I'll lay with you," Eduardo says, and a grin tugs the corner of his mouth up, helpless and sweet and young. Mark pulls him into his room and onto the bed.
When he's horizontal Mark realizes how fucking exhausted he really is.
He closes his eyes nearly immediately and Eduardo lets him push his face into Eduardo's chest.
The fabric of Eduardo's shirt is worn and smooth, because it's an old old old dress shirt, Mark's favorite, that Eduardo only wears when he's stressed out. It's too big and worn nearly translucent and the sleeves hang off him and it always smells faintly of cologne.
He nudges his face against Eduardo's chest, exhales deeply, and Eduardo breathes out slowly against the top of his head.
Mark wants to say something, he wants to think of something deep and profound to say, but he falls asleep too fast.
--
He wakes up sometime later. It's dark out, he can tell. The air has cooled.
Eduardo is sleeping, mouth half-open, arm slack around Mark's shoulder.
It's quiet, outside. He can hear Chris playing music softly from his room. Chris can never study without music, and he has a poli sci exam tomorrow.
Mark grabs his phone off the pillow next to him. It's eleven PM. They slept for four hours.
"Hey," Eduardo says quietly, and Mark puts his phone down again and turns his full attention to Eduardo, for another couple minutes.
For as long as he can.
"Feel better?" Eduardo says, and Mark nods against his chest.
"You were exhausted," Eduardo whispers.
Mark nods again, nuzzles his head against Eduardo like a cat, makes a soft sound against his chest.
Eduardo stops breathing, then, goes rigid. Mark can feel it.
"I need to leave," he says.
"Don't."
"Mark. Just- I have to go. I'll see you before I leave, right?"
"I leave on Thursday morning," Mark says.
"Yeah. We can- we can get lunch. I leave on Wednesday night."
"Wardo-"
"Text me, okay?"
And he's standing up and away, and Mark stops him with a hand on his hip.
"Mark," Eduardo whispers, pained.
"Just. Leave this here," Mark says, blushing fiercely hot, and undoing the buttons on Eduardo's old dress shirt, slipping it off his shoulders.
Eduardo nods, and Mark turns around, hands Eduardo a t-shirt. Eduardo pulls it over his head and Mark watches the lean curve of his torso.
Eduardo pauses in the doorway and looks at him for a second, then leaves.
Mark grabs the white shirt off of the bed, stuffs it into his backpack for home.
He feels- he doesn't feel good.
But there is nothing he can do.
--
They don't end up getting lunch.
Mark sees Eduardo in passing, once, before summer break starts.
Mark's walking with his head down, hand in his pocket, chewing his lip furiously and going over the answers to the history exam he hopefully just aced.
Eduardo touches his shoulder, says, "Mark."
He's with a group of people, and Mark looks up quickly, back down again.
"How was your history final?" Eduardo says, and his friends are walking away. Mark stares past him.
"Good," he says, and amends- "Fine. It was fine."
"That's good, that's good, I- I gotta run," Eduardo says, nodding, walking backwards away from Mark and Mark nods.
---
And then it is over, the year, and he is throwing things into a suitcase and dragging it to the train station.
part three
fandom: the social network
pairing: mark/eduardo
notes: for the tsn_kinkmeme prompt: "Eduardo has this thing, where whenever he's drunk drunk, he basically makes out with whoever's around." and became an extremely long angstfest of feelings.
title is from atmosphere's "yesterday"
They're lying on their sides on Mark's bed, facing each other, and Mark's eyes are slipping shut but he feels Eduardo touch his mouth, delicately, with one hand.
He opens his eyes. Eduardo is staring at him, blinking, eyes bright and drunk.
"Hey," he says, putting one hand on Mark's hip, and Mark squeezes his eyes shut for a second to try and stop his head from spinning.
"You- you like me when I'm sober?" Mark asks, but it comes out flat at the end, like a statement, or a command. Eduardo lets his head loll backwards a little, nods.
"Like you all the time," he says quietly.
"Then why did you- why did you fuck those other people," Mark says, and bites his lip to keep himself quiet. Eduardo looks sad.
"I don't know," he says. "I just. They wanted me."
Mark doesn't know what to say.
At least someone wants you, he thinks, but at the same time he knows he should feel bad, like in a movie where the rich popular guy suddenly has secret awful deep secrets and everyone's supposed to pity him.
Fuck, he is drunk still. He should have not had had that much vodka.
"You've just- you've had sex with a lot of people," he says, knowing he shouldn't finish the sentence, knowing he shouldn't have started the sentence, but fuck it.
Eduardo's blushing, looking away, and Mark says, "And- and I haven't had sex with anyone."
Oh God he think he might throw up.
"With any guys?" Eduardo asks, brow creasing in confusion, and Mark's stomach churns.
"With anyone," he clarifies, and Eduardo looks shocked.
Of course he's shocked.
Because it's not fucking normal. He's eighteen. He's in college.
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah, I'm fucking-" Mark exhales and rolls onto his back. "I'm pretty fucking ugly, if you haven't noticed, Wardo."
"What?" Eduardo says, rolling onto his belly, pushing himself up on one elbow to see Mark's face.
"And I'm an asshole."
"No, no, you're- Jesus, Mark. You're not ugly. You- God, you're-" he laughs. "You're so not ugly. Do you know how- how attracted to you I've been? Since the beginning of the year, Mark. You're so. Mark-" and then he's kissing Mark, not hard, but with tongue and Mark turns his head and kisses back.
They do that for a minute, and Eduardo pulls away slightly and says, in a low voice, "I'd make it so fucking good for you."
Mark keeps his eyes closed. He can feel Eduardo breathing.
"Seriously, Mark," he says, kissing his chest through the T-shirt, sloppily. "I'd - you'd never want to fuck anyone else ever again, I swear."
Mark swallows hard.
"You'd do it sober?" he asks, and opens his eyes. Eduardo is staring at him.
"Wardo. Have you even done it with anyone when you were-"
"Yeah," Eduardo cuts in defensively. "A girl in high school."
"Not with a guy."
"Mark-"
"You're such a-" he sighs. He honestly doesn't know how he was going to finish that sentence.
"I'm sorry," Eduardo says quietly, and rolls away. Mark just lies still.
"I'd still want to," he says, when he's sitting up on the edge of the bed. "I- Mark, I would."
He stands up shakily, and leaves.
Mark sighs and closes his eyes.
---
He wakes up some time later, gets to his feet and stumbles into the common room.
Dustin's still passed out on the couch, and Mark pushes his feet up and sits down. Dustin's feet flop back down on his lap.
Mark is still drunk. That goes without saying. He turns the TV on, mouth set in a line, blinking heavily.
He reaches for the glass of water Dustin left, and Dustin makes a little noise, pushes his head further into the couch.
He doesn't know where Chris is. He wonders if Chris is having sex with a guy.
He hopes Eduardo is not having sex with a guy.
He passes out there, and when he wakes up the next morning, head pounding, neck stiff, the TV is off and there's a blanket thrown over both of them.
He has a new text, from 3:44 AM.
i didn't do anything wit anyone tonight. i reallywant you inside me mark please
Mark chokes when he reads it, and deletes it out of shock more than anything else. He leans his head back against the couch. He's excited and scared and confused and having this many feelings fucking sucks, especially when he's hungover and bleary-eyed. He closes his eyes again, and slips back into sleep.
----
He wakes up at eleven and flips through the TV idly, too hungover to grab his laptop from his room. Dustin's head is pushed up against Mark's thigh. He's snoring.
At noon, he gets another text.
i'm sorry about last night. i hadn't been that drunk in a while.
Mark frowns slightly, biting his lip, and types-
did you not mean what you said
Eduardo doesn't respond until six PM that night, when Mark's lying on his stomach on his bed, headphones in, coding.
i meant it.
Mark exhales when he reads it, picturing Eduardo typing that out, saying it, sober and willing and fucking aware of what he's doing.
He gets hard.
He reaches a hand down and grips his cock, wriggles out of his sweatpants and pushes himself up on his elbows to get leverage.
He digs his teeth into his wrist, mouth wet against the skin, and strokes, hard, hips rutting against the bed, echoing in his head, still- i really want you inside me. i meant it.
When he comes, eyes closed, breathing out hard into his arm, he rolls over onto his back and grabs a Kleenex off the floor.
He is going to lose his virginity. Sometime soon.
And it's going to be with Eduardo, with his ridiculously perfect ass and bright smile and stupid fluffy perfect hair.
He cannot fuck this up.
He's so fucking horny, for the next week, and at the same time he keeps thinking I don't want to hurt him I don't want to hurt him please let me not hurt him.
He googles it, which is embarrassing. But it's not like he's going to ask Chris.
He reads about lube and condoms and the prostate gland and he watches porn. He jerks off in front of his computer, head on his desk, mouth open against the dusty wood, thrusting into his fist.
He goes out to dinner and lunch with Dustin and Chris and Eduardo, and he can't stop staring at Eduardo's mouth.
He has read about rimming, about what that is, and he wonders if Eduardo would like it. He personally thinks it sounds sort of gross, but also maybe like it could be completely fucking awesome.
He knows Eduardo will be on the bottom. Mark wonders if he'll ever want to do that. Maybe. Not for his first time, though.
Mark watches blow jobs too, grainy videos on amateur websites. He sucks a finger, once, just trying it, imagines it's Eduardo's cock. It feels weird, but good.
It's too hard to tell, really. What it's like.
Mark is so distracted and so confused and Eduardo smiles slowly at him across the Kirkland d-hall table. Mark doesn't know what to do, really. How does one plan sex?
Oh God he's going to have sex.
---
He's in the library with Eduardo on Thursday night, feet kicked up onto a table.
Eduardo's muttering to himself, poring through a macro textbook, and Mark looks up from his laptop and says casually, "So, Dustin has that conference thing, in Boston, this weekend."
"Oh yeah, the Hillel thing?" Eduardo asks distractedly, still reading. "I didn't even think he was that Jewish."
"He just wants to bang that Becca chick," Mark says, and Eduardo snorts.
"But, uh. He's gone for the weekend. And Chris is in D.C. for the weekend, at the College Dems thing."
"Tringle!" Eduardo says, laughing, and flips a page.
"I mean." Mark exhales hard, frustrated. "Never mind."
"You're all by yourself," Eduardo says, and grins slowly at him. "I get it, Mark."
Mark goes red. "Yeah, well, I don't know," he mutters.
"Do you want to hang out on Saturday night?" Eduardo asks pointedly.
"If you want," he grumbles. Eduardo curls a hand around Mark's bare foot on the table for a second. Mark nearly jumps. His hand is cold.
"I'll come over," he says softly, and grins again. Mark nods, shoots another look at him, then looks down.
He buys condoms and lube at CVS.
He is mildly embarrassed about it, but he just glares at the register lady, hard. He knows he looks sixteen on a good day. But he could be having fully legal sex with another sixteen year old, it's none of her business.
He puts the stuff in his desk drawer, exhales, and sits down to code.
It is Friday and he is most definitely going to have sex tomorrow.
Holy shit.
---
So Eduardo comes over on Saturday, at six, and Mark is so fucking keyed up he can barely look at him.
"Dinner?" he suggests, voice cracking, and Eduardo nods, eyes inscrutable. He seems excited, but Mark cannot tell.
He needs Eduardo to be excited.
Eduardo is wearing tight black pants and a black button down and he looks so good. Mark wants to put his hand on the small of Eduardo's back, like a date.
He doesn't do it. He stares at Eduardo as much as he can without getting caught, but Eduardo catches him anyway and smiles.
When the door of Mark's room is shut behind them, Mark turns around to face Eduardo and leans up on his toes, kisses him.
He starts it gentle and close-mouthed, but he opens his mouth to breathe and Eduardo does too and Eduardo slips his tongue in Mark's mouth and Mark inhales hard, puts a hand onto Eduardo's back and pushes him against the door.
He has been so worried about how Eduardo will feel, about how it will feel, about how he might mess up or be terrible and it will fuck up everything.
He nearly forgot how fucking attracted to Eduardo he is.
Which is close to impossible.
"Let's- to your bedroom," Eduardo says, voice a little weak. Mark checks on him briefly, studies him. He seems okay.
"I want it," Eduardo whispers into his ear, like a confession, and Mark can feel his skin go hot.
"Fuck, me too," he says back, hard already, fingers sliding down Eduardo's hips, and Eduardo pulls away, pulls him into the bedroom.
They just kiss for a while, lying down, which is nice. Mark is nervous. There is a condom and a thing of lube next to the bed. Eduardo had put his head down and grinned when Mark had fumbled them out of his desk drawer.
"I haven't," Eduardo says quietly against Mark's mouth. "You know, I don't remember that much- its- it's fuzzy."
Mark nods, kisses him again. At least it's even there at all. He's the one who has no idea what he's doing.
"Just, give me your hand," Eduardo says, pulling away, and takes Mark's fingers into his mouth. Mark sucks in a breath, pushing his finger a little farther, and Eduardo swirls his tongue around two of Mark's fingers, carefully, almost business-like.
"Jesus," Mark breathes out, and Eduardo looks at him, notices how fucking turned on he is.
His eyes go heavy and half-lidded then, and he looks like a porn star. He sucks at Mark's fingers with more intent.
"Fuck, Wardo," Mark says, staring unblinking at his fingers disappearing into Eduardo's mouth. Eduardo opens his mouth, catches a third finger, and recommences sucking.
Mark is like, really fucking hard, and he could probably watch Eduardo lick his fingers all night, but then Eduardo takes Mark's hand out his mouth, and something twists queasily in the pit of his stomach.
"Okay," Eduardo says, and leans up and kisses Mark again. "Can you- can you put your fingers in me?"
Mark nods, stomach still fluttering with nerves, hand slick with saliva, and Eduardo pushes at him until he's on his knees next to him on the bed. Eduardo grabs a pillow, slides it under his hips, spreads his legs. He's hard and Mark stares, because he's never seen another guy's cock before, not in real life. It looks mostly the same. Eduardo is so tan.
"C'mon," Eduardo says, voice a little shaky, legs open and exposed, and Mark leans down on some random impulse and puts his mouth on Eduardo's inner thigh, kisses the skin.
Eduardo smells good, like sex, something deep and undefinably male. Mark breathes through his nose, face pushed into Eduardo's skin, and Eduardo puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Mark," he says, unsure.
"Yeah," Mark says, lifting his head, and licks his own finger again for good measure, rubs around Eduardo's hole, not inside, not yet.
Eduardo groans, like it's turning him on already, which is just ridiculously hot.
Mark read about this, about making it good for the guy on the bottom. He goes slow like it said to. He uses one finger first, until Eduardo is less tight.
Eduardo is trembling, silent, and when Mark glances up at him his eyes are closed.
Mark puts lube on his fingers because they don't seem wet enough, and slips two in. Eduardo huffs out a breath, biting his lip.
"You okay?" he asks, and Eduardo nods, opens his eyes. His pupils are blown.
"Oh fuck," he says suddenly, and Mark looks up with concern.
"Do that again," he says, and Mark doesn't even know what he was doing, but he pushes his fingers again and Eduardo's hips jerk.
"Oh fuck, yes," he says. Mark watches in fascination and does it again. Eduardo is pushing himself down further onto Mark's fingers, hands planted flat on the bed.
"You can do three," he says. "Three. Mark. Now."
Mark nods quickly, and slips his fingers out, then back in. He finds that spot again, right away, and Eduardo nods, chest shining with sweat.
"Is that right," Mark says, and Eduardo nods.
"Yes," he says, garbled and frantic. "Oh, shit, yes."
Mark is so hard.
He is in his dorm room, fingering his best friend, and he is so insanely hard.
"Hey," Eduardo says, tugging at his arm. "Hey, yeah, you should fuck me now."
Mark laughs, wild and high in his throat. He doesn't even sound like himself. This is it.
"Okay," he says, and takes his fingers out of Eduardo reluctantly. Eduardo hisses softly.
"I have to," Mark explains incoherently, and grabs the condom packet, opens it with his teeth.
He rolls it on easily enough. He practiced.
"More, uh- yeah," Eduardo says, when Mark grabs the lube.
He lines up, carefully, stomach churning, face hot, and Eduardo puts a hand on his hip.
"It's okay," he says, and Mark pushes in, lips tight with concentration. Eduardo breathes out sharply, closes his eyes.
"You're okay?" he says, and Eduardo nods.
"Go further," he says, and his voice is all choky and strained.
Mark moves his hips slowly in, eyes wide, disbelieving, and fuck it feels so so insanely fucking good. His muscles jerk helplessly. He thinks he might come, but he breathes slowly, and puts a hand on the bed next to Eduardo's hips, and calms down.
He looks at Eduardo and Eduardo is staring at him.
"C'mon," he says very quietly, and draws Mark closer with one hand on his back, spreads his legs wider.
Mark is trying to simultaneously balance himself over Eduardo and not come immediately. It is hard. He didn't realize sex would be hard, that he'd be breathing quickly and his face would be sweating.
"Move," Eduardo chokes out, and wraps a leg awkwardly around Mark's hips.
Mark thrusts all the way in, slowly, and then out, and in. His heart is pounding.
"You can go a little faster," Eduardo says, fingers gripping tight on Mark's waist. Mark nods and does so, and Eduardo clenches briefly around him, groans out, "oh Jesus, yeah, that's it."
Mark's eyes squeeze shut and he heaves a huge, shuddery breath through his chest, trying not to come.
Eduardo pulls Mark against his chest, kisses him sloppily, teeth clacking together, and Mark's somehow still fucking him through it, moving in and out in shallow thrusts. Eduardo's feet are digging into Mark's back, just above his tailbone, and it hurts a little but he doesn't really care.
"Mark," Eduardo says in between kisses, mouth open and wet.
"Mark, can you-" he takes one of Mark's hands and puts it on his cock. Mark squeezes and Eduardo chokes, nearly biting off Mark's bottom lip.
"Yes, yeah," he pants. Mark keeps doing that, jerking Eduardo off in unsteady arrhythmic strokes, and Eduardo keeps flexing around him, and it is hard and it is not perfect but it is working.
He can feel that he's going to come.
He doesn't know the etiquette. Does he say something?
In the end it doesn't matter, because Eduardo clenches hard and twists his hips, just slightly, and Mark comes without warning, groaning low in his throat, and his hips keep jerking through it.
"Mark," Eduardo says, kicking at him, voice gone desperate. Mark remembers and grabs Eduardo's cock again, and it only takes a couple strokes before Eduardo is coming in his hand and on his stomach, muscles flexing wildly, drawing in loud breaths through his open mouth.
Mark pulls out, exhaling hard, and rolls over next to him. His muscles are shaky with exhaustion. He feels good, so so fucking good. He grabs at Eduardo's hip, rubs his fingers over Eduardo's warm skin, and falls asleep.
---
He wakes up sometime later, maybe a half hour, and turns his head. Eduardo's on his side, facing away from Mark, and it takes a second for Mark to realize he's shaking. Mark frowns.
"Hey, Wardo," he says sleepily, putting a hand on his shoulder. Eduardo puts one finger up, in a wait a second gesture.
"I'm sorry," he says, voice shaky. Mark forces himself awake.
"Wardo? Are you okay? Did I-"
"No, no, you- everything's fine. Just." He draws in a breath, still curled on his side. Mark wants to see his face. If he can see Eduardo's face he will know what to do.
He sits up, tugs at Eduardo's shoulder.
"Please tell me what's wrong," he says, and there must be a note of desperation in his voice because Eduardo rolls over slightly and looks up at him.
"Nothing's wrong," Eduardo says, mouth curling up in a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He looks tired, scared.
"You're lying."
"Mark. It's not you. It's just-" he pauses, and takes a deep breath, heavy, like he's been holding it in since Mark fell asleep. "I'm such a slut," he whispers, and puts his hands over his face.
"No no no," Mark says panickedly, rolling him onto his back and clutching at him. "Jesus, Wardo, no you're not."
Eduardo isn't making sounds, really, just heavy wet-sounding breaths. Mark rubs his hand over Eduardo's chest.
"C'mon, Wardo, you're not. It's me. We- it's okay that we. It's okay to want something."
Eduardo laughs and it sounds like a sob.
"I know what he told you but Wardo, c'mon."
"It's not you, Mark, I swear to God, I," Eduardo chokes out.
Mark swallows hard.
He doesn't have the words, to make Eduardo feel okay.
He never has the words for anything. He is not good at words.
Eduardo wipes a hand over his nose, and Mark keeps holding him, because it's all he can do.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Eduardo keeps saying, softly, like he doesn't even know he's saying it.
"Don't say you're sorry. You had sex. Everyone does it. You know how much I wanted to have sex with you? Am I a slut?"
"Shut up, Mark, you're not," Eduardo says.
"Then how the fuck are you?"
"I just- I'm not supposed to-" he breaks off.
"You think Chris is messed up? Think he's a slut or something?"
"No," Eduardo admits miserably.
"Be logical," Mark says, and puts his head down against Eduardo's chest. He barely even knows what he's saying now. "Just- you're fine. You're not that."
Eduardo is nodding along with Mark, breath slowing, eyes closed, and Mark is sticky and hot and naked but he thinks he could maybe stay there forever.
"Just chill," Mark says then, nonsensically, something bubbling in his stomach, anticipatory and nervous, and he lets his mouth open against Eduardo's stomach.
Eduardo nods again, and Mark drags his mouth down to Eduardo's navel, licks around it. Eduardo tastes salty, smells like heated cologne.
"Mark," Eduardo says, and Mark draws his fingers over Eduardo's cock, lightly.
"Jesus Christ," Eduardo says, whole body shivering, and Mark does it again, bites gently at the juncture between hip and thigh.
He's pretty sure he's about to give Eduardo a blow job.
He really, really wants to, at least.
He puts his hand cautiously on Eduardo's cock again, and Eduardo exhales softly, starts getting hard. And what the fuck, that's amazing.
"Fucking- are you sure, Mark," Eduardo says, and Mark sticks his nose into the curls at the base.
Fuck, Eduardo smells good.
"Yeah," he murmurs softly, inhaling deeply. Eduardo makes a pained sound.
"Jesus Christ, Mark," he says, looking down at him, and Mark is scared but he knows what to do, he does- he holds Eduardo's cock at the base and puts his mouth around it, carefully, sucks his lips over his teeth, and Eduardo is making sounds like sobbing.
"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," Eduardo says when Mark bends his head further. Mark is surprised, a little.
He realizes, in a second- he has no idea if anyone has ever given Eduardo a blow job.
That makes him hot, makes his cheeks flush, makes him want to be able to deepthroat like he saw in the porn clips.
He can't yet though, so he goes as deep as he can, hollows his cheeks experimentally.
"Christ," Eduardo gasps out. Mark wants to smile, but he is too busy licking Eduardo's cock.
He is hard again. He needs to get off, or keep sucking, or both.
He moves his hips against the bed, and keeps hollowing his cheeks. It's easier than he thought, natural. It feels viscerally satisfying, good, hot and solid in his mouth. He could do it for a while, he thinks.
Except Eduardo is gasping above him, pounding his fist against the mattress in tight controlled movements, and he says, "Jesus, yes, Mark, oh fuck Mark," and comes.
Mark stays still and keeps his eyes closed and it doesn't taste good, but it's not awful. He stands up, still hard, and spits in the sink.
"Holy shit, Mark," Eduardo says, flat on his back. Mark grins and looks at him and Eduardo licks his lips and beckons to him, smiles hesitantly.
Mark is so far gone.
He curls his hands around Eduardo's biceps as Eduardo jerks him off, scraping his teeth over Mark's shoulder.
"God yes Wardo," Mark gasps, pushing his hips as far as he can towards Eduardo on the bed, and Eduardo licks the spot he just bit, then blows air over it.
Mark comes.
This time he doesn't fall asleep, doesn't leave Eduardo alone with his stupid, overwhelming fear of himself.
He tugs on Eduardo's arm, says, "Come take a shower."
Eduardo protests sleepily, but lets Mark drag him up.
They are in the suite bathroom, which is filthy. Eduardo kicks on Dustin's flip-flops and steps into the tiny shower, shoes squeaking.
No one has ever seen Mark naked, fully naked, except Eduardo.
He tries not to feel self-conscious, but it's hard. Because Eduardo is a lean tall expanse of smooth, tan, skin, and Mark is short and pale and gawky.
Eduardo kisses him under the water, though, till soap runs into their mouths and he pulls away, spits on the floor of the shower, laughing.
Mark rubs soap down Eduardo's back, then gently, carefully, over his ass, and Eduardo leans his head against the cold tile wall, stares at him with soft eyes, licking his lips, letting Mark touch him.
Mark is not stupid. He knows he cannot fix Eduardo in one night.
He wants to, though. He wants to try.
---
Mark manhandles Eduardo into a towel, and silently brings him a pair of boxers.
Eduardo accepts the offer, and turns his back on Mark to change. His ass is just ridiculous.
"You can come back to sleep now," Mark says, lying down awkwardly on the bed, and Eduardo nods, lies down by his side without touching him, until Mark exhales and rolls over, half on top of him.
"Thought I was supposed to be sleeping," Eduardo murmurs, but his hand comes up to rest on Mark's back.
Mark pushes himself up by his toes, and kisses him, softly, trying to say what he can't out loud without sounding like a girl.
Eduardo seems to get it. He makes a soft sound in his throat, and lets Mark rub a thumb over his cheekbone.
"Mark," he murmurs, dazed and exhausted and freshly showered and fucked out, and Mark pulls back, pillows his head on Eduardo's chest and closes his eyes.
--
They wake up slowly, and it's light out. Sunlight is filtering softly in through the blinds. Eduardo opens his eyes and Mark opens his, and they both squint at the ceiling. Mark rolls halfway over, onto his side. Eduardo turns his head to look at him.
"So, you're not a virgin anymore," Eduardo says, voice hoarse, and grins. He seems happy. Happier than last night.
"I'm aware."
"Do you- um, are you happy?" Eduardo asks shyly. Mark sneaks a look at him. His cheeks are pink.
"Ehh," he says, deliberately wishy-washy, and when Eduardo looks at him he has to bite his lip to keep from grinning.
"I totally faked it," he adds, and Eduardo shoves him, laughing. Mark laughs too, a little bit, and Eduardo pushes his face up close to Mark's, breathes lightly on his lips.
"I, uh, I really, really liked it," Mark says dizzily, and Eduardo kisses him, too quickly, pulls away. Leans in and does it again, and then again, and Mark is breathing open-mouthed, eyes closed, fingers tingling, and after four times he curls a hand around Eduardo's neck when he does it, keeps him there.
Eduardo's whole body shivers when Mark holds him in place.
Mark's mouth quirks up at the edges as he kisses Eduardo, lingering and wet and sweet.
He had sex. Fuck yes.
---
Dustin cocks his head, stares at Mark. Eduardo is changing, and Mark is fucking starving. Dustin's back from his conference, apparently, and Mark already misses him being gone.
"You had sex!" Dustin says triumphantly.
Mark rolls his eyes and pours himself a bowl of cereal.
"You're weird, Dustin," he says, but he physically cannot keep from grinning.
"Oh my God, you did. You had sex. Mark had se-ex. I'm so proud!"
Mark shakes his head. Dustin is doing a ridiculous victory dance, with his hands above his head, spinning around and chanting "sex, sex, sex! "
"Why," Eduardo says as he walks in, scratching his stomach, T-shirt riding up. Mark's T-shirt. Okay, then.
Dustin stops dancing, giggles guiltily.
Mark shoots him a look.
"Nice shirt," Dustin says, smirking.
"Ha. Thanks," Eduardo says, bleary-eyed, and he grabs the mug of coffee out of Mark's hand, takes a gulp.
"Hey," Mark says without heat.
"It's okay, you guys have shared a lot," Dustin says, voice choky with laughter. "No germs you haven't already gotten."
Mark rolls his eyes and looks at Eduardo, expecting him to mirror it, but Eduardo looks at him with a curious expression- carefully happy, measured, edges of his lips curling up just slightly.
"I should go, because I have, uh, a meeting. With my advisor," Eduardo says, and Mark nods.
"Come back soon, y'hear?" Dustin calls in an awful Southern accent, and Eduardo shuts the door quietly behind him, sending Mark one last strange smile.
"Where was I…" Dustin muses, tapping his lip. "Oh yeah. Sex! Sex! Sex! One night stand with a Brazilian god!"
"Shut the fuck up, Dustin," Mark says, and sits down at his computer.
Eduardo is still wearing his shirt.
He thinks Eduardo is okay. For now, at least.
He wants Eduardo to be okay all the time, but he is not a miracle-worker.
---
And that is how it goes.
It's not that different from before.
Except now Mark knows what Eduardo looks like when he is coming, how his eyes and his mouth open and he sucks in a huge breath, the biggest breath, and exhales loud and rough.
How it feels, inside him.
How he tastes, all the time, mouth slick and sweet.
And the year is almost over, and how is that possible?
They hook up all the time, whenever they can.
Dustin and Chris make fun of them, but Mark doesn't give a shit.
They are proud of him, he thinks, too. Because Eduardo was so messed up, was such a drunk fucking mess.
And he still drinks, sometimes, and he still gets teasing and giggly and horny when he's drunk, but Mark is there, and it's funny, now.
It's become cute again, a party trick.
Mark wishes it just didn't happen at all, but it is better than before.
--
And the weeks pass and Mark has so much sex. He feels like a stud. Like a man, for the first time in his life.
Eduardo loves to get fucked.
Mark will never tell him that, though, because Eduardo is still shy, still scared and unsure of what it means. What it means that he always wants Mark inside him, that he keeps asking for Mark to- yeah, with the fingers? can you? shit, please, Mark, another one, yeah-
That he came once just from Mark's fingers, three of them, twisting inside him. Just from that. What the actual fuck.
God, Eduardo likes it.
Mark is pretty sure that if they could spend the rest of the year with his fingers or his dick up inside Eduardo's ass, Eduardo would be happy.
Mark would be pretty fucking happy, too.
He really likes blowing Eduardo. He's good at it now, better than before.
He puts his fingers inside Eduardo, now, when he's blowing him.
Eduardo comes apart underneath him.
Mark could do that for a while.
Except then it's finals week, and he doesn't see Eduardo for three days.
He gets texts, like hey how was your cs final? or sorry didn't come by, econ is killing me.
He is pretty fucking busy too, because he is a freshman and his core classes are killing him. He does not want to write about fucking Shakespeare. Shakespeare is not important, when Mark can hack into the databases of most major corporations and steal their information in ten minutes.
Shakespeare could not do that.
---
Finally, he's halfway through his finals, on a Monday night, and Eduardo comes by the room.
Dustin and Chris are out, in the library.
Eduardo comes by, and Mark stands up from the computer, sprawls on the couch and Eduardo sets down his backpack, sits next to him.
Then he says, "Mark- Mark, we have to talk about this summer, and everything."
And then he is saying, "I don't think we should. Mark, I don't think we should keep doing this, over the summer."
Mark says, "Well yeah you're in Florida, we can't keep having sex."
And Eduardo says, "That's not what I mean."
"Mark," Eduardo says, and Mark tries to understand. He is swallowing hard, and blinking, and he cannot look at Eduardo's face.
"I just- I think- it's just the summer. I need to go home, work some stuff out, and I don't want to lead you on-"
"Lead me on," Mark says flatly, skeptically.
"- yeah, Mark. I can't do that. I can't go home and be with you and it's three months away-"
"You're breaking up with me," Mark says.
"We weren't dating," Eduardo says automatically, and goes red. "I'm sorry. Next year I want to- I want to try again, I do, but when I'm in Miami, you know-"
"Scared your father will ask what you've been doing for the past year?" Mark asks harshly. Eduardo winces, looks at him with big eyes.
"Please," he says. "Next year. Please, Mark."
"Or maybe you want to be single so there's no excuse for you not to fuck everyone in fucking Florida," Mark says, voice tight and mean, and Eduardo exhales shakily.
"I swear to God that's not-" he says, voice trembling. "Mark. I haven't hooked up with anyone else since we started."
"But now we're ended, so, go for it!"
"I'm trying not-" Eduardo says, voice nearly cracking. "I know I'm a- " he shuts his mouth hard, shakes his head. Mark is shaken, because he was scared Eduardo was going to say slut like it's a reflex. Mark does not want it to be a reflex.
He never wanted to be the one making Eduardo think that about himself.
"You're not," Mark says stubbornly, though Eduardo didn't finish his sentence.
Eduardo nods. "I know," he says softly.
"I can't be around my family and be with you at the same time," he says.
"Why can't you just lie?"
Eduardo makes a pained sound in his throat.
"It's not that easy, Mark."
"It's not fair," Mark says, and he knows he sounds like a kid. He steps closer to Eduardo, into his heat, spreads his hands on Eduardo's hips.
Eduardo exhales, ducks his head and breathes against Mark's face, gently, for a moment.
"Please," he says, and kisses Mark's closed eyelid, then the sharp curve of his jaw.
"I don't want you to be waiting, you know, if you meet someone, a girl, you should be able to do what you want-"
Mark can't hear him talk like that, so he tilts his head up and kisses him.
Eduardo kisses back, in that way he's been doing for the last couple weeks, lingering, searching, like he's trying to remember something he's lost.
There is not enough time for Mark to do all of the things he wants to do.
Because finals are nearly over. Mark has not slept in 36 hours. Eduardo is so fucking gorgeous.
He has not slept, and Eduardo is warm and present and in front of him, and there is so little time.
Mark worries so much, a constant throbbing undercurrent in his mind. He thinks about Eduardo, fucked open and bleeding and sobbing, awful shit, sick shit, like a man with graying fading hair trying to fit his fist inside Eduardo or three guys, big, like rowers or lacrosse players, passing him around like a fucking party favor.
He thinks about these things and he feels sick. He feels perverted and awful and so worried.
He can't tell anyone about what he thinks, when his mind is at its most raw, when he's exhausted and bitter.
Eduardo pulls away, presses one last kiss to Mark's lips, exhales softly against Mark's lips and Mark rubs his hands softly down into the small of Eduardo's back.
"Fuck," Eduardo says miserably, and Mark opens his eyes.
"You need to sleep," he says to Mark. Mark rolls his eyes.
"I still have an OS final problem set due," he says.
"Yeah, in two days. Now, sleep."
"Wardo-"
"I'll lay with you," Eduardo says, and a grin tugs the corner of his mouth up, helpless and sweet and young. Mark pulls him into his room and onto the bed.
When he's horizontal Mark realizes how fucking exhausted he really is.
He closes his eyes nearly immediately and Eduardo lets him push his face into Eduardo's chest.
The fabric of Eduardo's shirt is worn and smooth, because it's an old old old dress shirt, Mark's favorite, that Eduardo only wears when he's stressed out. It's too big and worn nearly translucent and the sleeves hang off him and it always smells faintly of cologne.
He nudges his face against Eduardo's chest, exhales deeply, and Eduardo breathes out slowly against the top of his head.
Mark wants to say something, he wants to think of something deep and profound to say, but he falls asleep too fast.
--
He wakes up sometime later. It's dark out, he can tell. The air has cooled.
Eduardo is sleeping, mouth half-open, arm slack around Mark's shoulder.
It's quiet, outside. He can hear Chris playing music softly from his room. Chris can never study without music, and he has a poli sci exam tomorrow.
Mark grabs his phone off the pillow next to him. It's eleven PM. They slept for four hours.
"Hey," Eduardo says quietly, and Mark puts his phone down again and turns his full attention to Eduardo, for another couple minutes.
For as long as he can.
"Feel better?" Eduardo says, and Mark nods against his chest.
"You were exhausted," Eduardo whispers.
Mark nods again, nuzzles his head against Eduardo like a cat, makes a soft sound against his chest.
Eduardo stops breathing, then, goes rigid. Mark can feel it.
"I need to leave," he says.
"Don't."
"Mark. Just- I have to go. I'll see you before I leave, right?"
"I leave on Thursday morning," Mark says.
"Yeah. We can- we can get lunch. I leave on Wednesday night."
"Wardo-"
"Text me, okay?"
And he's standing up and away, and Mark stops him with a hand on his hip.
"Mark," Eduardo whispers, pained.
"Just. Leave this here," Mark says, blushing fiercely hot, and undoing the buttons on Eduardo's old dress shirt, slipping it off his shoulders.
Eduardo nods, and Mark turns around, hands Eduardo a t-shirt. Eduardo pulls it over his head and Mark watches the lean curve of his torso.
Eduardo pauses in the doorway and looks at him for a second, then leaves.
Mark grabs the white shirt off of the bed, stuffs it into his backpack for home.
He feels- he doesn't feel good.
But there is nothing he can do.
--
They don't end up getting lunch.
Mark sees Eduardo in passing, once, before summer break starts.
Mark's walking with his head down, hand in his pocket, chewing his lip furiously and going over the answers to the history exam he hopefully just aced.
Eduardo touches his shoulder, says, "Mark."
He's with a group of people, and Mark looks up quickly, back down again.
"How was your history final?" Eduardo says, and his friends are walking away. Mark stares past him.
"Good," he says, and amends- "Fine. It was fine."
"That's good, that's good, I- I gotta run," Eduardo says, nodding, walking backwards away from Mark and Mark nods.
---
And then it is over, the year, and he is throwing things into a suitcase and dragging it to the train station.
part three