Fic: Anatomy of an Unfortunate Seduction Part 2 (TSN)
Title: Anatomy of an Unfortunate Seduction
Pairing: Mark/Eduardo
Author:
a_jejune_star
Rating: R for poRn
Words: ~17,500
Summary: For this Redbook prompt on the
tsn_kinkmeme. Mark getting some ideas from Redbook's Foreplay Tips and Techniques - Foreplay Ideas for Men on how to seduce Wardo.
Contains: Embarassment and bad dancing.
Notes: Thanks to the wonderful
slasher48 for the beta! Also the Redbook OP, and all the amazing kink memers! This fandom? Like a boss.
Part 1 | Part 2
"Come here," Eduardo breathes, and Mark tears his eyes away from his perfectly hung penis and finds Eduardo staring at him, all intense and drunk-eyed, but he never gives Mark the chance, because Eduardo reaches forward and grabs Mark by the collar, yanking him until Mark is falling out of the chair and onto Eduardo.
He lands pretty hard on a rib, and Eduardo oomph's, wincing, but his hips press up into Mark's and then their mouths are open and on each other’s', and Mark's brain stops working.
Mark humps Eduardo.
He doesn't mean to, but it's just that-he's there, on top of him, and their boners press together, which is-
Yeah.
And so Mark just braces himself on his elbows and starts humping down onto Eduardo's body, all frantic and gaspy and strangely determined until he realizes what he must look like, all bent and humping like that, like he's a fucking jackrabbit or something.
So embarrassing.
But when he tries to stop, Eduardo does this push-flip-bounce thing where he rolls Mark over onto his back, and then Eduardo-
He says, all gruff and breathless into Mark's ear, "Spread these," and wedges a palm between Mark's thighs, pushing them apart.
Mark is so close to becoming a serial premature ejaculator right then, and he attributes a lot of appalling mental images to the fact that he can somehow isolate it to a one-time occurrence.
Eduardo settles between Mark’s legs and grabs Mark’s hands, and while they're licking into each other's mouths, Eduardo lifts them over Mark's head and pins them to the mattress-uses that point of contact for leverage while he rocks into Mark, panting hot into his mouth.
So when Mark decides to employ Tip #25, it's not necessarily because he wants to seduce Eduardo, who is already sliding against Mark in the most delicious way, and it's definitely not because Mark feels dissatisfied with the current position, because believe him, Eduardo pinning his hands down like this is just-
Mark nods pointlessly into the kiss.
It's awesome.
They should dedicate award shows to it.
But Mark wrestles his hands away and he's free to reach down and grab two handfuls of Eduardo's tight, flexing ass cheeks, which is all he really wants, for obvious reasons.
Mark has a lot less time than he'd like to dig his fingertips into the flesh there, guiding Eduardo's hips higher and closer, and sliding their bodies against one another, because Eduardo makes this choking, grunty sound into Mark's mouth, and it's hot, so so hot, and Mark can't-he just can't cream his pants again and live with himself.
With a gasp, Mark wedges his hand between their bodies and pushes Eduardo up and up, until Mark can grab the waist of his sweats and pull them down, and yank his shirt up.
Mark grabs his erection and tugs at it until he's sobbing breaths into the space between them, spurting ribbons all over his stomach and chest.
Before Mark's even done shaking and huffing, Eduardo's suddenly unbuttoning his own pants, tearing down the zipper, and pulling himself free, and if Mark were physically capable of having another orgasm before this one's even concluded, then it would happen when he saw Eduardo's dick for the first time, hard and purple and leaking because of Mark.
And when Eduardo swipes a palm over Mark's stomach, collecting and smearing everything, which he then uses to jerk himself off with, Mark mutters a low, "Ohmygod," and watches, mesmerized as Eduardo stares down at the blur of his own hand, red-faced and gasping for air.
Eduardo comes all over Mark.
And Eduardo also makes sounds.
These broken, tense, pleading sounds.
Mark keeps replaying them in his head, even when Eduardo's body's gone slack and he sits back on his heels, wiping his top lip with the cuff of a sleeve.
Mark is covered in spunk, from pubes to throat.
It makes Eduardo laugh. "What can I use?"
And Mark's like, What? You can talk?
Mark wishes he could talk.
Instead, he just points dumbly to the towel he'd used after that morning's shower.
*
Move #4: Send him a "Let's fuck tonight" message.
It hits Mark later that night-after Eduardo's left and Mark can reflect on all the sounds and Eduardo jerking off and the way Eduardo's breath tastes when he's frantic and horny.
Eduardo seduced Mark.
With Mark's own fucking move.
It totally blows his mind.
Eduardo just waltzed over to Mark's chair, whispered into his ear, and so smoothly got into Mark's pants.
How the hell?
That's when it hits him.
These "tips" aren't a guidebook. They're just meant to be inspirational, you know? Like. Ideas or supplements. Not necessarily an instruction manual.
Therefore, Mark is now realizing that doing these things alone will not make Mark appealing.
Mark has to make Mark appealing. The tips are just there to inspire various methods of conveying his intent of seduction.
So, yeah.
He gets that now.
Eduardo so easily seduced Mark because he was sexy (and well, also because he was Eduardo in general), not just because he sucked on Mark's earlobe.
Mark understands now. At least. He thinks he does. He needs to put his own spin on these things. Make them Markesque. Get creative. Apply them to his specific situation and character.
Mark's so inspired by this epiphany that he wants to employ it the following the day. He has big plans for Tip #22, and he can barely think about anything else, because Tip #22?
It involves a shower.
Mark’s just saying.
But Eduardo never comes over.
So Mark waits for the following day.
And Eduardo doesn't come over then either.
Mark gets frustrated, and-
If he's being honest?
A little scared.
What if Eduardo's come to his senses and realized how spastic and incompetent Mark really is?
What if Mark grossed him out or-
God.
What if Mark makes really stupid faces when he comes?
"Have you tried just calling him?" Chris asks when Mark goes to him with a metaphor about a friend who kind of had sexual relations with another friend, and now the friend is suddenly absent, and what does this sort of behavior suggest about the other friend's feelings and such?
Mark opens his mouth to correct Chris and insist it's a friend, but Mark gives Chris more credit than that.
No one would believe Mark has other friends.
So Mark just stalks away and decides to risk seeming clingy. Or whatever.
He texts Eduardo: where r u?
Eduardo's response doesn't come until an hour later: my room?
Mark stares thoughtfully at the reply for a long while, wondering how to best be desperate without seeming desperate. wanna come over?
can't. writing an essay :(
Mark mimics the frowny face and growls in frustration at his phone. you can do it here.
i wouldn't get anything done over there and you know it
Well.
This is a confusing response for Mark. It could mean that Eduardo might have limited self-control when it comes to Mark, which-
Mark cracks a grin to himself.
Or it could mean-
i'll tell C and D to leave you alone
After a minute: they arent the ones who distract me ;)
Mark exhales into a laugh that's so cheeky his jaw hurts.
Then he glances around to make sure no one saw it.
how close are you to being done?
*
Eduardo answers, not even a little. why?
And this is it.
This is Mark's chance.
It takes Mark forever to answer, because he's not as creative as he'd like to be, and he's also indecisive, and he gets really flustered because he keeps thinking about what he intends to convey with his spin on Tip #4.
It seems simple.
The point of the tip isn't to just type, "Let's fuck tonight." Mark gets that now, remember? So Mark picks it apart and tries to understand what makes that a move men love.
It's the bluntness of it, he decides, the obscene nature of the content fused with spontaneity.
It's like basically science.
Or math.
After just enough time to preserve the impulsive characteristic of the concept (exactly twenty minutes), Mark is resolute.
i want to see how much of your dick i can fit in my mouth.
Mark blushes from head to toe after he sends the text. And he's nervous. So nervous. This is the kind of thing that backfires all the time. Mark begins remembering everyone he ever made a move on in high school, and how blunt he always was, more out of simple practicality than anything, since it had never made sense to Mark to do all that beating around the bush.
Mark remembers being slapped.
At least three times.
The guys reacted far worse, though Mark supposes that had more to do with them being homophobic than anything, but still.
Mark paces the floor of his room and he-
He wishes there were a way to unsend it.
Especially so when Eduardo doesn't respond, even forty minutes later.
Mark is already typing out an apology when he bursts through his door.
Eduardo, that is.
Mark is stunned to see him standing there, all flushed and kind of breathless, in a dingy t-shirt and wrinkled pants, which is about as un-put-together as Mark has ever seen him.
Mark lifts his hand, waving weakly.
Eduardo, who closes the door behind him, clears the room in three strides and has Mark against his desk, kissing Mark and pressing into him with his hips, and breathing hard into his mouth. Mark's still processing all of this, only just now throwing all that he is into meeting Eduardo's slick tongue thrusts when the sound of Eduardo's zipper jars him.
Mark drops to his knees pretty much instantly, wrapping his mouth around firm, warm flesh, and pushing Eduardo's hips against the desk as he bobs and sucks and licks, and Eduardo-
Eduardo touches Mark's hair, muttering, "Yeah, god. That's-so good, Mark. So evil, but so good." He laughs brokenly as he says this, and Mark would laugh too if his mouth wasn't full of Eduardo's dick, because as he discovers, he can't really fit anywhere near all of it in there, and if he gags once or twice while trying, then no one can blame him for aiming high.
Since Eduardo ends up coming inside Mark's mouth in three minutes flat, shaking and gasping and pulling Mark's hair into his fists, Mark supposes nowhere near all of it is enough.
Eduardo falls back onto Mark's desk while Mark stands, wiping the slobber and spunk from his lips and chin with a sleeve because he's only done that one other time, and he's not that good, but then-
Eduardo looks satisfied.
Never has a sloppy and kind of gross experience been so personally rewarding for Mark.
He does his best impression of unaffected.
Eduardo still sits somewhat awkwardly, presumably since spit and jizz have possibly dripped between his legs at some point. "I-"
Mark has rendered him speechless.
He knew it.
Mark is a smooth motherfucker.
He finishes for Eduardo, "You have to finish your essay. Understandable."
Eduardo chokes a laugh, staring at Mark with big eyes. "You tricked me."
"No," Mark argues. "Tricking you would entail a complete lack of everything that just happened. I delivered in full, so technically..."
Eduardo lifts his shirt from his head and uses it to clean up the mess Mark's made of his crotch, concluding, "Seduced me, whatever. It's not fair. I really do have to go back and finish." And he looks so apologetic with his shiny eyes when he grabs one of Mark's shirts and makes to leave, but Mark doesn't expect instant reciprocation, and he says so.
Seduction's about patience.
Mark-he gets that now.
*
Move #22. Surprise him while he's in the shower.
Mark and Eduardo text back and forth the rest of the week. Sometimes they'll "catch" one another walking to class and stop and talk, or make fun of the jock who broke his leg and totally had it coming, or exchange thinly-veiled innuendo that Mark's still getting the hang of, and sometimes-
Sometimes, when no one's around, when halls are empty, or they pass by an alley, or they can sneak behind a door, Mark and Eduardo will kiss, almost frantically mouth to mouth while their hands find collars and belt loops and pull their bodies closer and closer. Mark likes those times best, because when they're forced to break apart and continue on their path, Eduardo will do this stuff.
This strangely affectionate stuff.
It comes as a surprise to Mark. He’s never been much of an affectionate person, and since people will usually avoid giving affection to someone who won’t-or doesn’t know quite how to-return that affection, Mark so rarely encounters it.
It’s never bothered him. Mark’s never sought it out, and he hasn’t felt lacking at all in his otherwise brief interactions with others, but now-
Mark is intercepting Eduardo’s path to Econ (totally by coincidence). Their eyes meet across the street, and Eduardo ducks behind a statue nearby. Mark finds him there, slouched against it, legs spread just enough to seem rather come-hither-y.
They kiss, wet and loud, and the entire time, Eduardo has his arms around Mark’s waist, and Mark-he really wishes Eduardo would pay more attention to his very neglected ass-region, but he’s not quite sure how to articulate that. He also feels a little disappointed when a group of students walk their way and they have to separate, but then Eduardo-
Eduardo presses his lips beneath Mark’s ear, brushes his fingertips against Mark’s palm, and gently scratches it.
This is what Eduardo does-the affection thing? It makes Mark feel…
Well, it makes Mark feel.
It’s not something he can explain.
It’s tender.
He doesn’t know how to express it back and it bothers him.
Mark watches the passing group when Eduardo leaves. The couple-y, gross people within it. Just to see how they do that-how they express affection. And Mark thinks their actions-arms thrown across shoulders and hands tucked into back pockets-seem generic and done more out of habit or societal obligation than anything.
Mark doesn’t want that.
He can’t put a name to whatever he feels when Eduardo does those things, but Mark knows it’s definitely not artificial.
So. Since Mark is decidedly against generic affection, he decides to simply do nothing.
Let it come naturally.
Or whatever.
The whole thing is stressing him out.
Instead, Mark goes back to the drawing board for his next attempt at seduction. He’s getting good at that. He’ll keep his cart behind his horse, thank you very much.
The problem? Eduardo-he's just so busy. He has so much on his plate, and maybe Mark can sort of relate? Since he doesn't have many extra-curricular activities, but Mark does have other obligations. Online obligations. He's still uploading software and keeping up with the ever-changing industry, but most of the time, Mark just wishes Eduardo would be there-in his room-with his dick in Mark's mouth.
The timing is just never right.
So Mark decides to make it right.
Eduardo has an Investor’s Club meeting every third Tuesday of the month at precisely eight in the morning. Because they are all freaks who actually wake up early enough to be punctual for that kind of shit.
Mark has been infatuated with Tip #22 ever since he first found the Redbook sitting in his dentist’s waiting room.
Actually.
Mark has probably been infatuated with Tip #22 since before he realized Redbook was even a thing.
Since Eduardo has to be at the meeting at seven, Mark calculates that he’ll be most likely to catch Eduardo showering in his room between the hours of five and six on Tuesday morning.
It’s not like he’s given this much thought or anything.
Since there’s no way Mark’s waking up that fucking early, he just stays up late. It’s not that difficult, what with Red Bulls and sugar and all the jerking off he does to make certain he can last through… whatever it is that might happen.
Mark is so excited by the time he leaves the dorm. Also maybe a little over-stimulated from caffeine. If Mark almost loses a flip-flop doing something that may or may not resemble a prance through campus, then no one’s around to prove it.
He sits outside Eduardo’s room with his ear to the wall, awaiting the sound of running plumbing. Mark doesn’t want to imagine what he must look like, standing there in the dark like a total creeper. His paranoia only amplifies when the plumbing does sound, because despite his brief moment of celebration that he’d gotten the time so precise, he realizes he has to break into Eduardo’s room.
It’s not hard, Mark Googled it.
When he finally makes it inside, Mark undresses right there, so the sounds of his wired fumbling won’t ruin his surprise.
Mark does a push-up or ten before sneaking into the bathroom, steam filling his nostrils with the smell of scented soap and heat. His feet smack too loudly against the tiles and Mark cups his junk, takes a breath, and steps behind the shower curtain. Eduardo is beneath the water, all wet and sinewy, and his ass is ridiculous.
When he sees Mark, Eduardo emits a sound not totally unlike that of a screech, covering his crotch with sudsy hands.
Mark’s eyes go big when he suddenly realizes that Tip #22?
It’s a little illegal.
And stalker-y.
“Mark?” Eduardo gasps, eyes squinting through the steam. “What the hell are you-“
Mark speaks weakly over him, “Surprise?”
“-doing in my shower at six thirty in the morning?” Eduardo looks-well, not mad, but definitely some form of rattled.
Mark tries to explain, “I was. Well, um. The-a surprise. For. Because you’re busy. And showers are-I had Red Bulls?”
After a pause, Eduardo translates, “You had Red Bulls so you could be awake at six in the morning to surprise me in the shower, because I’m busy?” and Mark nods helplessly, which makes Eduardo sigh into a laugh, shaking his head. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“I didn’t plan it through?”
Lies.
Eduardo smiles, like he doesn’t mind, but then, they’re both still holding onto their junk, and Mark slaps his feet around in the water, suddenly awkward.
He resolves to push through it by just dropping his hands, clearing his throat, and reaching out a hand to poke Eduardo in the side.
“Hi.”
Eduardo mimics him with a sly smile. “Hi.” Except he doesn’t poke Mark, so much as he grabs his wrist and pulls him closer.
Their kiss is slippery.
So are their chests.
And then, when they start getting hard, their bobbing erections cross and graze, which makes Mark press himself closer, until they’re caught between their slippery bodies, and that is-
Yeah.
Eduardo muses while mouthing at Mark’s neck, “I think I still owe you something,” and his hand presses into the small of Mark’s back, but fails to go any lower, and that makes Mark-
“About that,” he begins, and since he’s pretty sure there’s no graceful way of making this request, Mark stutters, “W-w-with the…? Yeah. It’d be-great. But, alternatively. If you-I mean, you might not. And it’s. I won’t mind-”
Eduardo looks surprised when he meets Mark’s gaze. “You want something else?”
To this, Mark nods.
He nods fervently.
“Like what?” And Eduardo’s smile is fond-expectant even-like Mark could say I want you to lick my toes and Eduardo would drop down on all fours and do just that, no reservations, but Mark-
“Um. Uhhh, well.” He blushes furiously and is so flustered with the idea of even saying it aloud, that he ends up just verbally vomiting, “Sometimes I look at your fingers a lot.”
And then Mark does it.
Looks at Eduardo’s fingers.
Eduardo curves an eyebrow. “You get off on looking at my fingers?”
Frustrated, Mark shakes his head. “Not exactly…”
Eduardo’s eyes widen-perhaps a spark of comprehension. And then (because Mark told you so, he and Eduardo were so made for each other) his hand finally finally falls below Mark’s back, sweeps over the curve of his ass, and he presses his fingers into the crevice there, asking, “Here?”
Mark does that frantic nodding thing again, only now, he’s sort of panting in anticipation, because most guys would give their left arms to get head from just about anyone, but Mark-
This is what Mark likes, above all else.
He holds onto Eduardo’s shoulder when they begin kissing again, Eduardo pressing all the while, closer and closer, and then eventually, he’s massaging and prodding there, and Mark’s tongue stops moving.
He just stands there, mouth agape, as Eduardo pushes his finger inside.
Mark’s toes curl.
Then the water goes cold.
Eduardo yelps, jumps away, and scurries to turn the water off, leaving behind him a very disgruntled Mark. Luckily, Eduardo returns with a laugh, spins Mark around, and slips his finger back between his spread cheeks.
Mark stares at the tile wall as Eduardo fingers him, a little tentatively at first, but then Eduardo begins thrusting with more and more certainty, eventually adding some soap to his fingers and kissing along Mark’s nape as he pushes pushes pushes.
Mark makes sounds.
Probably embarrassing sounds.
Embarrassing, positive sounds.
“You like that?” Eduardo asks. Not in that cocky smug way that would totally kill it for Mark, but in this really gentle, almost nervous kind of way.
“Yeah. Yes. One hundred and ten percent, yes-“ Mark finds it hard to continue with his train of thought when Eduardo adds a second finger.
Mark jerks himself off, since the position is awkward and Eduardo is a little busy thrusting his fingers into Mark, his knuckles slapping against Mark’s skin when Mark encourages, “More, more, more.”
Eduardo’s breath is loud and rapid at Mark’s ear.
When he comes, Mark muffles a cry into his arm, knees shaking. He’d probably fall onto the shower floor if Eduardo’s fingers weren’t being shoved so strongly up Mark’s ass that they basically hold his weight.
While Mark recovers, Eduardo jerks off over his spread ass, all wet, squelchy skin sounds and teeth-gnashed grunts.
It’s the most obscene thing Mark has ever experienced.
They both rush through what’s returned of the hot water to clean themselves, and when the water turns off, Eduardo does the thing again. The strangely affectionate, palm scratching thing. It invokes that new, unfamiliar tenderness that Mark’s growing oddly addicted to. It’s heavy and soft, all at the same time, and Mark-
He doesn’t have a thing.
A strangely affectionate thing.
But he wants one.
So he ruffles Eduardo’s hair.
Eduardo blinks at him, brows pulled together, and in a moment of panic, because Mark’s pretty sure that’s not quite the kind of affection he should be aiming for, Mark hugs Eduardo.
Really tight.
He steps away with a satisfied nod, and tries not to read much into Eduardo’s perplexed grin.
*
Move #26: Prop him up with pillows during oral sex so he can see your eyes.
Just when Eduardo’s workload seems to ease up, Mark’s grows. He has another project due, more labs, two essays, and the software he’s been developing needs tons of bug-fixes thanks to an unexpected infrastructure update that has Mark and Dustin raging for days.
Mark feels a little less bad about his own impatience when Eduardo employs his own version of dirty tactics.
im not wearing pants, Eduardo texts one day.
It’s difficult, very difficult when Mark knows Eduardo’s thighs are bare and that he’s in his room, waiting for Mark to come and discover them, but Mark is forced to respond, raincheck?
After a long pause, Eduardo replies, I wanted to see how many of my fingers I could fit in your ass, and Mark is sliding his feet into his flip-flops and running out the door before his computer has even shut down all the way.
For the record, three.
But in Eduardo’s defense, Mark didn’t last long enough for further investigation.
When Mark has the time, when Eduardo comes over and waits on his bed, he gives him blowjob after blowjob, and Mark doesn’t like to toot his own horn or anything, but he’s getting good at those, so Eduardo never complains about being neglected for most of the time he’s present.
It’s what he’s expecting tonight, since he’s hunched over his desk, typing away about something not-computer related, because they make him take History courses, like it’s something Mark will ever use.
He minimizes to desktop a lot. The black one. With the reflection of Eduardo behind him. Every few minutes, he’ll do it, and each time, he’s greeted with a new pose from Eduardo, and Mark really wants to finish this essay so that he can go and bury his face into Eduardo’s crotch, so he resolves to stop looking.
After one more time.
Eduardo’s reflection is lying on his side, head propped on a palm as he reads from a book. No-not a book.
A magazine.
A red magazine.
Mark turns and dives at the bed in a motion so quick that he misses his target entirely, launching himself promptly over the corner of his bed, and landing with a hard crack onto the floor. Mark lays there, cradling his side in pain as Eduardo hums thoughtfully.
“Mark?”
Mark wheezes, “Yeah?”
“Have you been using tips from a women’s magazine to seduce me?”
Mark considers denying it, but knows it’s no use.
He may or may not have made notes in the margin.
“Yeah?”
Eduardo asks, “Me, exclusively?” to which Mark rolls his eyes.
“No, I’m seducing you and the entire lacrosse team, I’m a very busy guy.”
“It’s just-you have this one crossed out, and-“ The bed shifts when Eduardo peeks at Mark over the edge, eyes bewildered. “When did we go lingerie shopping?”
Mark stares.
Then Eduardo gives this incredulous, very un-Wardo-like snort. “Wal-Mart? You took me to Wal-Mart to shop for boxer-briefs for the purpose of seducing me?”
Mark shrugs against the floor.
“Not that I’m not flattered by all this… effort, but you do realize-” And then Eduardo pauses, like he might not finish, fingering the edges of the magazine paper instead. Mark’s about to protest that with a manner of indignation, but Eduardo eventually concludes in this small, reluctant voice, “I’ve been pretty much stupidly in love with you from day one?”
Mark doesn’t know what to say.
Love?
“Are you sure?” Mark sort of thinks he’d notice something like that.
Now Eduardo rolls his eyes, “Yes Mark, I’m sure-also apparently a masochist, because you’re kind of an asshole, you know?”
“Yeah.” That he’s been one to Eduardo makes Mark sad.
“Don’t be sad,” Eduardo insists. “You don’t always mean to be, it just has more impact-on me-than others? Or something.”
“You wouldn’t even look at my ass,” Mark accuses.
Eduardo balks, pulling himself closer to the edge, and rants, “What are you talking about? I’m always looking at your ass, Mark. I need an ass intervention. I have to, like, distract myself with other things just so I won’t become a total assoholic. You have a hole in your shorts, by the way. In the back pocket of the khakis? I’m always picking up your change.” Eduardo then nods pointedly to the pile of quarters and dimes that’s always left on Mark’s desk, just beside his mouse.
Mark is flabbergasted. Like the threads of his very reality are unraveling in some way. He gapes up at Eduardo and swears, “I never noticed.”
“I know.” And now it’s Eduardo who sounds sad, flopping back onto the bed.
Mark clears his throat, maybe so when he speaks, it won’t sound as loud and earth-shattering as it feels to admit, “For what it’s worth, I have… feelings too.”
After a long moment of Mark’s fidgeting, Eduardo breathes, “For me?”
“I’m not good at expressing them.”
“Well yeah.” Eduardo laughs before breathing, “I’ve been worried.”
“Worried?”
“That this is just… sexual for you.”
The silence is palpable-thick-and Mark just feels so stupid. All this time pining and plotting, and Eduardo’s been staring at Mark’s ass? And he’s in love with Mark? And Mark is ruffling his hair and giving him awkward hugs?
“Wardo?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s not,” Mark promises. And then, because it seems like the thing to do when two people who are enjoying orgasms from one another have feelings, Mark decides, “You should be my boyfriend.”
In a pause that seems to stretch on for years, but is actually probably only a few seconds, Eduardo softly agrees, “Okay.”
Mark adds, “And have sex with me all the time.”
Another laugh, “Okay.”
“And do my essays for Art History.”
“Mark,” Eduardo sighs, all long and burdened, but with a smile audible in his voice. “Get off the floor and come try out #26, okay?”
“The one with the pillows?” Mark sits up and peeks over the bed in an attempt to read from the open magazine. “And then you’ll do my essay?”
Eduardo smirks. “And then I’ll try getting to that fourth finger again.”
*
Move #15: Say you’re going to take a nap, but strip suggestively. Let him find you naked and ready.
Dustin enters whistling, head nodding along to whatever is playing on his MP3 player.
When he sees Mark’s face, he freezes.
The whistling dies.
He pulls an earbud from his ear. “Yikes, you’re mad.”
Mark agrees, “Yes.”
“At me?”
“Yes.”
“It’s kind of scary.”
Again, Mark agrees, “Yes.”
“What did I do?”
Mark produces a large, crinkly silver bag, which is empty. “Care to explain this?”
Dustin worries his lip, shrugging. “They were yummy in my tummy?”
“I had plans for these.”
“Whatever man, I’ll buy you more.”
“I need them now. Tonight. In one hour. Can you do that, Dustin? Can you magically reproduce an entire bag of Hershey Kisses in under sixty minutes without devouring them as if they are, in fact, the only sustenance available on planet fucking Earth?”
Dustin laughs, “Nope.”
Mark’s nostrils flare as he crushes the bag in a fist, and Dustin’s laugh transforms to a gulp.
“You’ve been a diva lately, Mark. Have you given any consideration to getting laid?”
Which was the exact wrong thing to say, so Mark reaches for the nearest semi-heavy item (Dustin’s shoe, of course), and chucks it at his head.
Dustin ducks and flees the room, and Mark is left sitting there, on the sofa, with no Hershey Kisses.
Dustin just ate Tip #19.
Tip #20 was ruled out when Mark discovered just how much roses cost, and he wasn’t even particularly attached to that one, because a trail of rose petals to the bedroom? Girly and stupid, and Mark had thought, well.
At least Hershey Kisses can be eaten afterward?
After Mark finally got laid, that is.
It was practical.
But now they’re gone, and he has no rose petals, and Eduardo will be here in an hour, and Mark doesn’t know how to seduce him into promptly and thoroughly fucking Mark, because they’ve been “boyfriends” for like almost two months, and Mark-Mark loves getting finger-fucked by Eduardo more than just about anything, but Mark is ready to get fuck-fucked, and Eduardo-
He keeps skirting around it.
Mark must seduce him.
With an expression that must convey the world will end if Eduardo’s dick isn’t shoved up my ass in three hours or less, Mark bursts into his room and flips frantically through the tattered Redbook.
Mark’s already used all hand-related moves, and he’s already tried #8. For the record, trench coats and hoodies are apparently not interchangeable when it comes to seduction moves involving nudity in public. Completely loses effect.
Mark has given numbers 27 and 28 commendable effort, but Eduardo’s just usually behind Mark when Mark is orgasming, so any deep gazes of emotional significance are missed.
Eduardo doesn’t watch sports, so #23 is out of the question.
Mark figures his best bet is #15, and then he resolves to buy a new issue of Redbook, because this one has been exhausted to the point of shame.
Eduardo struts in at exactly ten, all clean-shaven and perfect-haired and tailored and tall and-
Mark sighs.
He’s so getting laid tonight.
“Where is everyone?” Eduardo asks, falling beside Mark on the couch.
“Out.”
Eduardo’s eyebrows rise at that, his arm lifting and lifting, until it’s draped behind Mark’s shoulders, resting on the couch there. “That so?”
“We are completely alone.” If Mark put any stronger emphasis on the word, it’d emerge from his mouth sounding like, Your cock would feel amazing up my anus, please and thanks.
Eduardo grins and mouths along Mark’s jaw, nipping the sensitive spot where face turns to neck. “What should we do?” he asks against Mark’s skin, hand already groping for Mark’s crotch.
Mark stands, rigid, and looking over his shoulder, declares, “I’m going to take a nap, actually.”
Eduardo’s face falls, head snapping back in shock. “A nap?”
Mark lifts one shoulder before walking away, removing his shirt as he goes. He tries to do the slow stripping thing, but the truth is, Mark’s room isn’t far enough from the couch to merit it. He has to slow his step when he realizes he was basically in a sprint and is already a foot away from his door.
Aw fuck it, he thinks, and just throws off his shirt right there, in his doorway. Then he drops his pants, looking behind him while bent over, and Eduardo is staring at Mark, but he’s-
He looks kind of mad.
Mark yanks his jeans off one foot, but loses his balance and has to catch himself on the frame of the door, face flushing red as he disappears inside.
He gets naked, lies on his bed, and waits.
Mark experiments with a few differing poses. First, on his side, hand propped on a palm in a very I am ready for your penis, Mr. Saverin kind of position.
You know.
Classy.
But then, Mark looks down, sees his dick kind of flopped unflatteringly over his thigh, and decides against that.
Second, Mark lies on his back, but that seems boring, so he lifts onto his elbows, stares at his toes and waits.
But he decides that he wants there to be no mistaking exactly what it is he desires, so Mark throws all caution and dignity to the wind and gets on all fours.
Ass up.
Head down.
Mark gets comfortable feeling the air on his exposed-and already well-lubricated-skin.
He’s already stretched himself.
Mark wiggles his ass in the air, grinning.
He waits.
...and waits.
Looks over his shoulder at the door.
Stares at his pillow again.
Picks at a loose thread.
That’s when Mark hears the door opening. His face breaks into a wide grin as he bows his back, feels his ass cheeks spread obscenely.
He might even moan-you know. For atmospheric effect.
There is a horrific scream.
A bag of Hershey Kisses lands on the floor with a crinkly pop.
Mark screams back, covers his crotch, and leaps from the bed. “What are you doing,” he shrieks.
“What am I doing?” Dustin repeats, pale-faced. “What are you doing?”
“Whatever I want. This is my room!”
“I need bleach.” Dustin scrubs at his eyes, head shaking. “Inside my brain, right this second. Make it go away!”
Eduardo would choose now to come barging into the room, eyes big and panicked as he demands, “What’s wrong?” Of course, once he sees Mark’s very naked and tense state, his panic transforms into a wry expression. “I thought you were taking a nap?”
Dustin turns to Eduardo, shoving a finger at Mark. “Wardo, I’ve seen things. Appalling things!”
“You can’t seriously be this dense,” Mark insists, mouth agape. “Number fifteen, remember? With the. And I took off my clothes. Before. And then the nap.” Mark points needlessly at the bed. “I was waiting for you.”
Mark is mad-mad and mortified and red and-he wants a hole to magically appear so he can promptly crawl into it and die.
Dustin’s eyes grow so big, Mark worries they might fall out. “You were doing that for him?”
Eduardo crosses his arms over his chest, lips set into an angry-thin line. “Yeah, Mark. Please enlighten us as to why you’re sitting in bed, naked, waiting for me.”
Mark gapes openly at Eduardo, shrieking, “Because you won’t fuck me!”
“Ohmygod,” Dustin covers his ears and retreats from the room, calling behind him. “Enjoy your candy, I’m leaving. I need Eternal Sunshine levels of mental help after this.”
After he’s left, Eduardo and Mark just stare at one another, Mark sulking, Eduardo still inexplicably hostile.
“We haven’t had sex yet,” Mark mumbles, and he’s rather compelled to bring up that frequent sex had been a vital prerequisite to their change of relationship status.
Eduardo shoves a finger at him, eyes livid. “You never asked or talked about it, Mark! You can’t just seduce me every time you want to get off. I know this might sound like crazy talk to you, but two people in a relationship? They have to eventually like, mutually agree to do it. God, it’s called communication! Do you only read the portions of Redbook that get you laid?”
Mark thinks for a moment. “Yes.”
“Well it doesn’t always work like that!” Eduardo says, “Some things are too important to not be said aloud. And sometimes-sometimes there’s a fine line between seduction and manipulation, just so you know.”
And then he leaves.
Like, there’s for real flouncing and stuff. His coat is all billowy.
So Mark is naked and still a man-virgin, and how is that even fair or like, remotely possible? He has to put on clothes now and-does Eduardo even know what an unnecessarily lubed asshole is like? It’s slippery and uncomfortable, is what it is.
He rages around the dorm and eats half the bag of Hershey Kisses before Mark decides that he’s not going to take this.
Mark is a person.
He storms through campus like that-nostrils big and ass crack squelching-and he tells himself that he’s not all wrong here and that Eduardo apparently sucks at communication, too, because Mark doesn’t even know what he did wrong, and seduction is nothing like manipulation anyway.
But then Mark realizes they’ve had a fight and he pauses right there, halfway between their two houses.
Mark and his boyfriend are fighting.
What if Eduardo doesn’t want to see him? What if Mark fucked up too bad? What if-even if Mark was totally in the right to want some sexing from his uber hot Brazilian boyfriend-Eduardo won’t care?
If Mark is right, will it even ultimately matter if Eduardo is gone?
Well obviously not.
Mark turns and stomps back to Kirkland. He decides this is a problem not even Redbook can solve, and even if it could, Mark has a hunch that Eduardo maybe might not want to be seduced at this particular point in time.
Maybe he wants to be romanced.
*
It’s raining two hours later when Mark arrives at Eduardo’s dorm, which is apt.
He shakes the water from his hair and squints up to where he approximates Eduardo’s window to be.
The light is on.
With a nod, Mark presses ‘play’ and lifts the boombox over his head.
Finding it wasn’t easy. No one owns a boombox nowadays, unless you count Steven in 284L who has unhealthy levels of affection for the ‘80s, and Mark does, because Steven has approved this as a classic no-fail romantic gesture.
“If this doesn’t get you laid, there’s no hope for you,” he had told Mark.
The soft sounds of Peter Gabriel’s voice come crooning through the speakers. It sounds loud to Mark-also, apparently to the small group of passersby who pause to gawk at the spectacle like they might take out their picture phones in the very near future-but Mark wonders if it can be heard all the way up there and he cranks the volume.
He’s drawing a lot of attention.
The camera phones make an appearance.
Someone-male-is laughing.
Someone-female-elbows them.
A girl comes to stand beside him, follows his gaze to the window and she waits there with him, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. More girls join the fray, a couple guys. Mark had anticipated something a little more intimate, but whatever.
Everyone is waiting for Eduardo.
Just then, Peter’s voice begins to sound a lot less croon-y and a little more ominous. Mark lowers the boombox and frowns at the borderline satanic-voice emerging from it. He smacks it on the side and one of the girls breaks the silence.
“I think the rain got inside.”
Mark looks at her and back at the boombox, hitting it harder, even though it doesn’t help. “Fucking thing, it hasn’t even gotten to the chorus yet.”
“You could just go up and talk to him,” someone else suggests, only Mark had never specified he was doing this for a guy and also the voice is uncomfortably familiar.
Mark spins around and Eduardo’s there, drenched hair, little droplets falling from his lashes. “You-you’re supposed to be up there.” Mark points at the window as if to punctuate this, confused.
The small group pivots to Eduardo, some surprised, but most grinning in anticipation. Mark had no idea his generation could be so excitedly voyeuristic.
“I was getting the usual you’ve-been-an-ass-to-me supplies,” Eduardo explains, pulling the top of a liquor bottle from a soggy paper bag.
“Oh.” Mark shifts awkwardly but eventually presses ‘stop’ because Peter’s singing about eyes and light and heat is getting creepy. “It’s a romantic gesture,” he explains of the boombox, and Eduardo nods.
“I used my tiny brain to deduce that.”
“Your brain’s not tiny,” Mark argues. “It’s just operating differently from mine, and I’d prefer if we could remedy that without a preventable separation.”
Eduardo lifts an eyebrow.
“I mean…” Mark deadpans, “Please don’t break up with me.”
Eduardo’s face seems to soften, but it’s effortless, like maybe he was finding it difficult to appear angry at all. “Come upstairs,” he sighs, pushing past everyone.
Mark smirks at the crowd as he cradles the boombox beneath his arm, their disappointed, unison sounds disappearing behind him as he follows Eduardo inside.
“Does this mean you forgive me?” Mark asks when they’ve entered Eduardo’s room, both dripping messily onto the floor.
Eduardo turns to him and tiredly says, “Yes.”
“Does this mean we can have sex now?”
“No.” He’s looking angry again.
So Mark kind of is, too. “Seduction isn’t manipulation and also you suck at communication, too and I over-applied lube for your enormous penis and now whenever I walk it feels funny.” Mark adds, “And I’m sad.”
Eduardo blinks at him before taking a deep breath, and Mark knows this. Eduardo is making a list, deciding which to tackle first. He goes chronologically. “When used in moderation, no, seduction isn’t manipulation, but when it’s the only tool a manipulative person-don’t give me that look, you know it’s true, Mark-when it’s all you do, it starts feeling manipulative, okay?”
Mark frowns. “So what am I supposed to do, just... ask politely?”
“No-yes-sometimes, Mark, I don’t know, just.” Eduardo collapses into a chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sometimes, it should just happen naturally. And other times, seduction is nice. But other times, for the big stuff, like-like for example, this? Our first time?” He gives Mark a significant looks and concludes, “It shouldn’t be only on your terms. Maybe you could give me a say in it before... persuading me, you know?”
“Oh.” Mark thinks he gets it. “Oh.” He’s pretty sure. “Oooooh.” No, he totally gets it.
“See what I mean?”
“Because I had a lot of time,” Mark realizes. “To plan and prepare, and you had nothing.”
“Yes.”
“I planned our first time without you.”
“Exactly.”
“You want it to be like, special and so on or something.”
“Sure.”
Mark is having an epiphany. “I’m having an epiphany.”
“Does it include something about abuse of power?”
“No, I already had that one.” Mark paces, very focused. It’s right there, he’s on the cusp of grasping something very important, and then-“I don’t think I have to seduce you anymore.”
Eduardo throws his hands in the air. “That’s what I’ve been saying!”
He turns to him, a little thrown. “You’ll have sex with me. Without pretense.”
“Duh.”
“That’s-” Well, it’s baffling is what it is. Without his seduction technique, Mark is just some awkward guy who sometimes runs into things because he’s so busy staring at his toes and contemplating graphical user interfaces. Strip away all the pretense and Mark isn’t a smooth motherfucker, he’s just-
He’s just Mark.
“You like me,” Mark realizes.
“Of course I like you, Mark.” Eduardo rolls his eyes but then looks away, adding, “I love you, I told you that.”
And he had, but the thing is, it’s almost more monumental to Mark that Eduardo likes him. You can’t choose who you love. You don’t have to like who you love. Mark loves his sisters, and he doesn’t like them at all. Obviously, the type of love is different, but the sentiment still applies.
“I never said it back,” Mark remembers.
“I noticed.” Eduardo looks at him and it’s not expectant in any way, not like a prompt, you know, for Mark to go ahead and spit it out so he can get laid and Eduardo will be happy. Actually, Eduardo simply smiles, sort of sad, but ultimately accepting.
Mark doesn’t have to say it back.
But he totally does. Then he has to add, “I’m not saying it because your eyes get big and sad when I don’t, but because it makes me sad to see it, since I love you and that apparently comes with the territory-and is also incredibly annoying, so please use it sparingly, because I’m starting to understand that whole abuse of power thing better.”
Eduardo snorts, but he’s smiling, even though his face is turned to the window, Mark can tell, because his cheeks are like enormous. “I’ll try to not be sad, for you.”
“I’d appreciate it.” And after a beat, “And I promise to use my moves more responsibly in the future.”
Being irresistibly sexy is such a terrible burden.
They share a look and Mark lowers himself gingerly onto the bed, grimacing when his ass cheeks glide against one another.
Eduardo is, regrettably, observant. “You’ve really got-?”
“Lube all over my ass?”
Eduardo’s staring distractedly at the point between Mark’s legs when he nods.
Mark nods. “Yes.”
So it goes like this:
Mark and Eduardo open the whiskey and start drinking. Then they get naked. Well, there’s talking and other crap in between those two points, but let’s focus on what’s important here.
Sex is going to happen and stuff.
Mark doesn’t even have to fret about it or prepare for it or ask nicely for it, because they’re making out and rubbing against each other and there’s this whole thing with gazes and some weird weightiness on the whole thing that sort of makes it clear what’s going down.
Besides Eduardo, Mark means.
“I’ve never done this,” Mark informs him, of anal sex.
Eduardo’s already got two fingers in Mark’s ass, eyes bright-glassy, lips kiss-swollen-slick as they pop off his erection. “No? Well, yeah, I mean. Me either.”
“Good.” Mark isn’t equipped to deal with the implications of that since he’s too busy almost-getting-laid.
Being sexually active is a lot of work, okay?
There is the usual sucking and fingering, only this time they stop before it gets really good, which would be a bad thing, except that Eduardo has condoms and he’s staring between Mark’s legs, which are splayed to either side of him, and Mark is still kind of humping up into nothing, so he probably looks like a total slut for it, which is basically the case.
“You’re so hot like this,” Eduardo says, eyes transfixed. “You have no idea how you look right now.”
Inside, Mark preens and thinks I can be a slut for you whenever, no problem, but all that emerges for real is “Unghkhggk.”
And also his eye might twitch.
He lifts his knees for Eduardo, who puts his penis promptly where Mark’s ready for it, and it doesn’t hurt-Mark’s practically had all five of Eduardo’s fingers up there-but it is a little overwhelming, and Mark has to stop Eduardo from just sliding into home base, because he has to open his mouth and say, “Hnnggyu,” which is really mid-anal-speak for,
“Ohmygodyouhaveapenisanditisinsidemerigh
tnow. Give me a sec.”
Eduardo complies, only now it’s his eye that’s twitching and he kisses Mark and they share a laugh when he slips out, but it’s less of a ha-ha-this-is-funny laugh and more of a ha-ha-don’t-fucking-do-that-again kind of laugh.
When they can, it’s deep and perfect, and in the middle of Eduardo driving into him, Mark pushes him over and reverses their positions, riding Eduardo’s dick like a seasoned pro. You know, if a seasoned pro got a foot cramp and had to pause to crack his toes, which is totally possible, even sex pros get cramps, right?
There are orgasms, messy and frenzied and slippery and Eduardo says into Mark’s ear when he has his, “Yggghunng,” and Mark agrees into Eduardo’s when he has his, “Uuuhhhgggnnf.”
It can’t be more than minutes later that they’re laying side-by-side, still sticky and messy-haired and loose-boned, barely having caught their breath even, that they’re passing the bottle of whiskey back and forth again because... well, why not?
Mark has to wonder, “So that was what you were waiting for?” and Eduardo looks confused so Mark adds, “That was the special sex?”
Not that Mark didn’t enjoy it, it’s just...
“I did things,” Mark says, annoyed. “I did really undignified Peter Gabriel things, Wardo. Not to even mention that I considered sprinkling rose petals in places however briefly, and-getting drunk and fucking me missionary is your version of special first-time sex?”
Eduardo’s face turns guilty-red as he gulps his paused mouthful of whiskey. “I didn’t have a lot of time, and. You were. With the being wet. And all lubed up, and. Don’t look at me like that! I don’t have women’s magazines to get sex advice from.”
He finishes with a bitter huff, but Eduardo does this thing with his mouth. It’s all slanty and self-effacing.
Mark rolls his eyes, and if he presses himself closer to Eduardo then it is not cuddling. It's just, you know, after-sex physical contact. “The sex was perfectly adequate, stop being unnecessarily disappointed with yourself.”
“I could have done rose petals,” Eduardo mutters into Mark's hair.
“To be fair, I probably would have laughed at you.”
Eduardo demands, “I can be smooth, okay?”
Mark nods earnestly, “Of course,” but vows to make Dustopher Moskohughes’s new monthly Redbook subscriptions accessible to Eduardo, just in case.
End.
Pairing: Mark/Eduardo
Author:
a_jejune_star
Rating: R for poRn
Words: ~17,500
Summary: For this Redbook prompt on the
tsn_kinkmeme. Mark getting some ideas from Redbook's Foreplay Tips and Techniques - Foreplay Ideas for Men on how to seduce Wardo.
Contains: Embarassment and bad dancing.
Notes: Thanks to the wonderful
slasher48 for the beta! Also the Redbook OP, and all the amazing kink memers! This fandom? Like a boss.
Part 1 | Part 2
"Come here," Eduardo breathes, and Mark tears his eyes away from his perfectly hung penis and finds Eduardo staring at him, all intense and drunk-eyed, but he never gives Mark the chance, because Eduardo reaches forward and grabs Mark by the collar, yanking him until Mark is falling out of the chair and onto Eduardo.
He lands pretty hard on a rib, and Eduardo oomph's, wincing, but his hips press up into Mark's and then their mouths are open and on each other’s', and Mark's brain stops working.
Mark humps Eduardo.
He doesn't mean to, but it's just that-he's there, on top of him, and their boners press together, which is-
Yeah.
And so Mark just braces himself on his elbows and starts humping down onto Eduardo's body, all frantic and gaspy and strangely determined until he realizes what he must look like, all bent and humping like that, like he's a fucking jackrabbit or something.
So embarrassing.
But when he tries to stop, Eduardo does this push-flip-bounce thing where he rolls Mark over onto his back, and then Eduardo-
He says, all gruff and breathless into Mark's ear, "Spread these," and wedges a palm between Mark's thighs, pushing them apart.
Mark is so close to becoming a serial premature ejaculator right then, and he attributes a lot of appalling mental images to the fact that he can somehow isolate it to a one-time occurrence.
Eduardo settles between Mark’s legs and grabs Mark’s hands, and while they're licking into each other's mouths, Eduardo lifts them over Mark's head and pins them to the mattress-uses that point of contact for leverage while he rocks into Mark, panting hot into his mouth.
So when Mark decides to employ Tip #25, it's not necessarily because he wants to seduce Eduardo, who is already sliding against Mark in the most delicious way, and it's definitely not because Mark feels dissatisfied with the current position, because believe him, Eduardo pinning his hands down like this is just-
Mark nods pointlessly into the kiss.
It's awesome.
They should dedicate award shows to it.
But Mark wrestles his hands away and he's free to reach down and grab two handfuls of Eduardo's tight, flexing ass cheeks, which is all he really wants, for obvious reasons.
Mark has a lot less time than he'd like to dig his fingertips into the flesh there, guiding Eduardo's hips higher and closer, and sliding their bodies against one another, because Eduardo makes this choking, grunty sound into Mark's mouth, and it's hot, so so hot, and Mark can't-he just can't cream his pants again and live with himself.
With a gasp, Mark wedges his hand between their bodies and pushes Eduardo up and up, until Mark can grab the waist of his sweats and pull them down, and yank his shirt up.
Mark grabs his erection and tugs at it until he's sobbing breaths into the space between them, spurting ribbons all over his stomach and chest.
Before Mark's even done shaking and huffing, Eduardo's suddenly unbuttoning his own pants, tearing down the zipper, and pulling himself free, and if Mark were physically capable of having another orgasm before this one's even concluded, then it would happen when he saw Eduardo's dick for the first time, hard and purple and leaking because of Mark.
And when Eduardo swipes a palm over Mark's stomach, collecting and smearing everything, which he then uses to jerk himself off with, Mark mutters a low, "Ohmygod," and watches, mesmerized as Eduardo stares down at the blur of his own hand, red-faced and gasping for air.
Eduardo comes all over Mark.
And Eduardo also makes sounds.
These broken, tense, pleading sounds.
Mark keeps replaying them in his head, even when Eduardo's body's gone slack and he sits back on his heels, wiping his top lip with the cuff of a sleeve.
Mark is covered in spunk, from pubes to throat.
It makes Eduardo laugh. "What can I use?"
And Mark's like, What? You can talk?
Mark wishes he could talk.
Instead, he just points dumbly to the towel he'd used after that morning's shower.
*
Move #4: Send him a "Let's fuck tonight" message.
It hits Mark later that night-after Eduardo's left and Mark can reflect on all the sounds and Eduardo jerking off and the way Eduardo's breath tastes when he's frantic and horny.
Eduardo seduced Mark.
With Mark's own fucking move.
It totally blows his mind.
Eduardo just waltzed over to Mark's chair, whispered into his ear, and so smoothly got into Mark's pants.
How the hell?
That's when it hits him.
These "tips" aren't a guidebook. They're just meant to be inspirational, you know? Like. Ideas or supplements. Not necessarily an instruction manual.
Therefore, Mark is now realizing that doing these things alone will not make Mark appealing.
Mark has to make Mark appealing. The tips are just there to inspire various methods of conveying his intent of seduction.
So, yeah.
He gets that now.
Eduardo so easily seduced Mark because he was sexy (and well, also because he was Eduardo in general), not just because he sucked on Mark's earlobe.
Mark understands now. At least. He thinks he does. He needs to put his own spin on these things. Make them Markesque. Get creative. Apply them to his specific situation and character.
Mark's so inspired by this epiphany that he wants to employ it the following the day. He has big plans for Tip #22, and he can barely think about anything else, because Tip #22?
It involves a shower.
Mark’s just saying.
But Eduardo never comes over.
So Mark waits for the following day.
And Eduardo doesn't come over then either.
Mark gets frustrated, and-
If he's being honest?
A little scared.
What if Eduardo's come to his senses and realized how spastic and incompetent Mark really is?
What if Mark grossed him out or-
God.
What if Mark makes really stupid faces when he comes?
"Have you tried just calling him?" Chris asks when Mark goes to him with a metaphor about a friend who kind of had sexual relations with another friend, and now the friend is suddenly absent, and what does this sort of behavior suggest about the other friend's feelings and such?
Mark opens his mouth to correct Chris and insist it's a friend, but Mark gives Chris more credit than that.
No one would believe Mark has other friends.
So Mark just stalks away and decides to risk seeming clingy. Or whatever.
He texts Eduardo: where r u?
Eduardo's response doesn't come until an hour later: my room?
Mark stares thoughtfully at the reply for a long while, wondering how to best be desperate without seeming desperate. wanna come over?
can't. writing an essay :(
Mark mimics the frowny face and growls in frustration at his phone. you can do it here.
i wouldn't get anything done over there and you know it
Well.
This is a confusing response for Mark. It could mean that Eduardo might have limited self-control when it comes to Mark, which-
Mark cracks a grin to himself.
Or it could mean-
i'll tell C and D to leave you alone
After a minute: they arent the ones who distract me ;)
Mark exhales into a laugh that's so cheeky his jaw hurts.
Then he glances around to make sure no one saw it.
how close are you to being done?
*
Eduardo answers, not even a little. why?
And this is it.
This is Mark's chance.
It takes Mark forever to answer, because he's not as creative as he'd like to be, and he's also indecisive, and he gets really flustered because he keeps thinking about what he intends to convey with his spin on Tip #4.
It seems simple.
The point of the tip isn't to just type, "Let's fuck tonight." Mark gets that now, remember? So Mark picks it apart and tries to understand what makes that a move men love.
It's the bluntness of it, he decides, the obscene nature of the content fused with spontaneity.
It's like basically science.
Or math.
After just enough time to preserve the impulsive characteristic of the concept (exactly twenty minutes), Mark is resolute.
i want to see how much of your dick i can fit in my mouth.
Mark blushes from head to toe after he sends the text. And he's nervous. So nervous. This is the kind of thing that backfires all the time. Mark begins remembering everyone he ever made a move on in high school, and how blunt he always was, more out of simple practicality than anything, since it had never made sense to Mark to do all that beating around the bush.
Mark remembers being slapped.
At least three times.
The guys reacted far worse, though Mark supposes that had more to do with them being homophobic than anything, but still.
Mark paces the floor of his room and he-
He wishes there were a way to unsend it.
Especially so when Eduardo doesn't respond, even forty minutes later.
Mark is already typing out an apology when he bursts through his door.
Eduardo, that is.
Mark is stunned to see him standing there, all flushed and kind of breathless, in a dingy t-shirt and wrinkled pants, which is about as un-put-together as Mark has ever seen him.
Mark lifts his hand, waving weakly.
Eduardo, who closes the door behind him, clears the room in three strides and has Mark against his desk, kissing Mark and pressing into him with his hips, and breathing hard into his mouth. Mark's still processing all of this, only just now throwing all that he is into meeting Eduardo's slick tongue thrusts when the sound of Eduardo's zipper jars him.
Mark drops to his knees pretty much instantly, wrapping his mouth around firm, warm flesh, and pushing Eduardo's hips against the desk as he bobs and sucks and licks, and Eduardo-
Eduardo touches Mark's hair, muttering, "Yeah, god. That's-so good, Mark. So evil, but so good." He laughs brokenly as he says this, and Mark would laugh too if his mouth wasn't full of Eduardo's dick, because as he discovers, he can't really fit anywhere near all of it in there, and if he gags once or twice while trying, then no one can blame him for aiming high.
Since Eduardo ends up coming inside Mark's mouth in three minutes flat, shaking and gasping and pulling Mark's hair into his fists, Mark supposes nowhere near all of it is enough.
Eduardo falls back onto Mark's desk while Mark stands, wiping the slobber and spunk from his lips and chin with a sleeve because he's only done that one other time, and he's not that good, but then-
Eduardo looks satisfied.
Never has a sloppy and kind of gross experience been so personally rewarding for Mark.
He does his best impression of unaffected.
Eduardo still sits somewhat awkwardly, presumably since spit and jizz have possibly dripped between his legs at some point. "I-"
Mark has rendered him speechless.
He knew it.
Mark is a smooth motherfucker.
He finishes for Eduardo, "You have to finish your essay. Understandable."
Eduardo chokes a laugh, staring at Mark with big eyes. "You tricked me."
"No," Mark argues. "Tricking you would entail a complete lack of everything that just happened. I delivered in full, so technically..."
Eduardo lifts his shirt from his head and uses it to clean up the mess Mark's made of his crotch, concluding, "Seduced me, whatever. It's not fair. I really do have to go back and finish." And he looks so apologetic with his shiny eyes when he grabs one of Mark's shirts and makes to leave, but Mark doesn't expect instant reciprocation, and he says so.
Seduction's about patience.
Mark-he gets that now.
*
Move #22. Surprise him while he's in the shower.
Mark and Eduardo text back and forth the rest of the week. Sometimes they'll "catch" one another walking to class and stop and talk, or make fun of the jock who broke his leg and totally had it coming, or exchange thinly-veiled innuendo that Mark's still getting the hang of, and sometimes-
Sometimes, when no one's around, when halls are empty, or they pass by an alley, or they can sneak behind a door, Mark and Eduardo will kiss, almost frantically mouth to mouth while their hands find collars and belt loops and pull their bodies closer and closer. Mark likes those times best, because when they're forced to break apart and continue on their path, Eduardo will do this stuff.
This strangely affectionate stuff.
It comes as a surprise to Mark. He’s never been much of an affectionate person, and since people will usually avoid giving affection to someone who won’t-or doesn’t know quite how to-return that affection, Mark so rarely encounters it.
It’s never bothered him. Mark’s never sought it out, and he hasn’t felt lacking at all in his otherwise brief interactions with others, but now-
Mark is intercepting Eduardo’s path to Econ (totally by coincidence). Their eyes meet across the street, and Eduardo ducks behind a statue nearby. Mark finds him there, slouched against it, legs spread just enough to seem rather come-hither-y.
They kiss, wet and loud, and the entire time, Eduardo has his arms around Mark’s waist, and Mark-he really wishes Eduardo would pay more attention to his very neglected ass-region, but he’s not quite sure how to articulate that. He also feels a little disappointed when a group of students walk their way and they have to separate, but then Eduardo-
Eduardo presses his lips beneath Mark’s ear, brushes his fingertips against Mark’s palm, and gently scratches it.
This is what Eduardo does-the affection thing? It makes Mark feel…
Well, it makes Mark feel.
It’s not something he can explain.
It’s tender.
He doesn’t know how to express it back and it bothers him.
Mark watches the passing group when Eduardo leaves. The couple-y, gross people within it. Just to see how they do that-how they express affection. And Mark thinks their actions-arms thrown across shoulders and hands tucked into back pockets-seem generic and done more out of habit or societal obligation than anything.
Mark doesn’t want that.
He can’t put a name to whatever he feels when Eduardo does those things, but Mark knows it’s definitely not artificial.
So. Since Mark is decidedly against generic affection, he decides to simply do nothing.
Let it come naturally.
Or whatever.
The whole thing is stressing him out.
Instead, Mark goes back to the drawing board for his next attempt at seduction. He’s getting good at that. He’ll keep his cart behind his horse, thank you very much.
The problem? Eduardo-he's just so busy. He has so much on his plate, and maybe Mark can sort of relate? Since he doesn't have many extra-curricular activities, but Mark does have other obligations. Online obligations. He's still uploading software and keeping up with the ever-changing industry, but most of the time, Mark just wishes Eduardo would be there-in his room-with his dick in Mark's mouth.
The timing is just never right.
So Mark decides to make it right.
Eduardo has an Investor’s Club meeting every third Tuesday of the month at precisely eight in the morning. Because they are all freaks who actually wake up early enough to be punctual for that kind of shit.
Mark has been infatuated with Tip #22 ever since he first found the Redbook sitting in his dentist’s waiting room.
Actually.
Mark has probably been infatuated with Tip #22 since before he realized Redbook was even a thing.
Since Eduardo has to be at the meeting at seven, Mark calculates that he’ll be most likely to catch Eduardo showering in his room between the hours of five and six on Tuesday morning.
It’s not like he’s given this much thought or anything.
Since there’s no way Mark’s waking up that fucking early, he just stays up late. It’s not that difficult, what with Red Bulls and sugar and all the jerking off he does to make certain he can last through… whatever it is that might happen.
Mark is so excited by the time he leaves the dorm. Also maybe a little over-stimulated from caffeine. If Mark almost loses a flip-flop doing something that may or may not resemble a prance through campus, then no one’s around to prove it.
He sits outside Eduardo’s room with his ear to the wall, awaiting the sound of running plumbing. Mark doesn’t want to imagine what he must look like, standing there in the dark like a total creeper. His paranoia only amplifies when the plumbing does sound, because despite his brief moment of celebration that he’d gotten the time so precise, he realizes he has to break into Eduardo’s room.
It’s not hard, Mark Googled it.
When he finally makes it inside, Mark undresses right there, so the sounds of his wired fumbling won’t ruin his surprise.
Mark does a push-up or ten before sneaking into the bathroom, steam filling his nostrils with the smell of scented soap and heat. His feet smack too loudly against the tiles and Mark cups his junk, takes a breath, and steps behind the shower curtain. Eduardo is beneath the water, all wet and sinewy, and his ass is ridiculous.
When he sees Mark, Eduardo emits a sound not totally unlike that of a screech, covering his crotch with sudsy hands.
Mark’s eyes go big when he suddenly realizes that Tip #22?
It’s a little illegal.
And stalker-y.
“Mark?” Eduardo gasps, eyes squinting through the steam. “What the hell are you-“
Mark speaks weakly over him, “Surprise?”
“-doing in my shower at six thirty in the morning?” Eduardo looks-well, not mad, but definitely some form of rattled.
Mark tries to explain, “I was. Well, um. The-a surprise. For. Because you’re busy. And showers are-I had Red Bulls?”
After a pause, Eduardo translates, “You had Red Bulls so you could be awake at six in the morning to surprise me in the shower, because I’m busy?” and Mark nods helplessly, which makes Eduardo sigh into a laugh, shaking his head. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“I didn’t plan it through?”
Lies.
Eduardo smiles, like he doesn’t mind, but then, they’re both still holding onto their junk, and Mark slaps his feet around in the water, suddenly awkward.
He resolves to push through it by just dropping his hands, clearing his throat, and reaching out a hand to poke Eduardo in the side.
“Hi.”
Eduardo mimics him with a sly smile. “Hi.” Except he doesn’t poke Mark, so much as he grabs his wrist and pulls him closer.
Their kiss is slippery.
So are their chests.
And then, when they start getting hard, their bobbing erections cross and graze, which makes Mark press himself closer, until they’re caught between their slippery bodies, and that is-
Yeah.
Eduardo muses while mouthing at Mark’s neck, “I think I still owe you something,” and his hand presses into the small of Mark’s back, but fails to go any lower, and that makes Mark-
“About that,” he begins, and since he’s pretty sure there’s no graceful way of making this request, Mark stutters, “W-w-with the…? Yeah. It’d be-great. But, alternatively. If you-I mean, you might not. And it’s. I won’t mind-”
Eduardo looks surprised when he meets Mark’s gaze. “You want something else?”
To this, Mark nods.
He nods fervently.
“Like what?” And Eduardo’s smile is fond-expectant even-like Mark could say I want you to lick my toes and Eduardo would drop down on all fours and do just that, no reservations, but Mark-
“Um. Uhhh, well.” He blushes furiously and is so flustered with the idea of even saying it aloud, that he ends up just verbally vomiting, “Sometimes I look at your fingers a lot.”
And then Mark does it.
Looks at Eduardo’s fingers.
Eduardo curves an eyebrow. “You get off on looking at my fingers?”
Frustrated, Mark shakes his head. “Not exactly…”
Eduardo’s eyes widen-perhaps a spark of comprehension. And then (because Mark told you so, he and Eduardo were so made for each other) his hand finally finally falls below Mark’s back, sweeps over the curve of his ass, and he presses his fingers into the crevice there, asking, “Here?”
Mark does that frantic nodding thing again, only now, he’s sort of panting in anticipation, because most guys would give their left arms to get head from just about anyone, but Mark-
This is what Mark likes, above all else.
He holds onto Eduardo’s shoulder when they begin kissing again, Eduardo pressing all the while, closer and closer, and then eventually, he’s massaging and prodding there, and Mark’s tongue stops moving.
He just stands there, mouth agape, as Eduardo pushes his finger inside.
Mark’s toes curl.
Then the water goes cold.
Eduardo yelps, jumps away, and scurries to turn the water off, leaving behind him a very disgruntled Mark. Luckily, Eduardo returns with a laugh, spins Mark around, and slips his finger back between his spread cheeks.
Mark stares at the tile wall as Eduardo fingers him, a little tentatively at first, but then Eduardo begins thrusting with more and more certainty, eventually adding some soap to his fingers and kissing along Mark’s nape as he pushes pushes pushes.
Mark makes sounds.
Probably embarrassing sounds.
Embarrassing, positive sounds.
“You like that?” Eduardo asks. Not in that cocky smug way that would totally kill it for Mark, but in this really gentle, almost nervous kind of way.
“Yeah. Yes. One hundred and ten percent, yes-“ Mark finds it hard to continue with his train of thought when Eduardo adds a second finger.
Mark jerks himself off, since the position is awkward and Eduardo is a little busy thrusting his fingers into Mark, his knuckles slapping against Mark’s skin when Mark encourages, “More, more, more.”
Eduardo’s breath is loud and rapid at Mark’s ear.
When he comes, Mark muffles a cry into his arm, knees shaking. He’d probably fall onto the shower floor if Eduardo’s fingers weren’t being shoved so strongly up Mark’s ass that they basically hold his weight.
While Mark recovers, Eduardo jerks off over his spread ass, all wet, squelchy skin sounds and teeth-gnashed grunts.
It’s the most obscene thing Mark has ever experienced.
They both rush through what’s returned of the hot water to clean themselves, and when the water turns off, Eduardo does the thing again. The strangely affectionate, palm scratching thing. It invokes that new, unfamiliar tenderness that Mark’s growing oddly addicted to. It’s heavy and soft, all at the same time, and Mark-
He doesn’t have a thing.
A strangely affectionate thing.
But he wants one.
So he ruffles Eduardo’s hair.
Eduardo blinks at him, brows pulled together, and in a moment of panic, because Mark’s pretty sure that’s not quite the kind of affection he should be aiming for, Mark hugs Eduardo.
Really tight.
He steps away with a satisfied nod, and tries not to read much into Eduardo’s perplexed grin.
*
Move #26: Prop him up with pillows during oral sex so he can see your eyes.
Just when Eduardo’s workload seems to ease up, Mark’s grows. He has another project due, more labs, two essays, and the software he’s been developing needs tons of bug-fixes thanks to an unexpected infrastructure update that has Mark and Dustin raging for days.
Mark feels a little less bad about his own impatience when Eduardo employs his own version of dirty tactics.
im not wearing pants, Eduardo texts one day.
It’s difficult, very difficult when Mark knows Eduardo’s thighs are bare and that he’s in his room, waiting for Mark to come and discover them, but Mark is forced to respond, raincheck?
After a long pause, Eduardo replies, I wanted to see how many of my fingers I could fit in your ass, and Mark is sliding his feet into his flip-flops and running out the door before his computer has even shut down all the way.
For the record, three.
But in Eduardo’s defense, Mark didn’t last long enough for further investigation.
When Mark has the time, when Eduardo comes over and waits on his bed, he gives him blowjob after blowjob, and Mark doesn’t like to toot his own horn or anything, but he’s getting good at those, so Eduardo never complains about being neglected for most of the time he’s present.
It’s what he’s expecting tonight, since he’s hunched over his desk, typing away about something not-computer related, because they make him take History courses, like it’s something Mark will ever use.
He minimizes to desktop a lot. The black one. With the reflection of Eduardo behind him. Every few minutes, he’ll do it, and each time, he’s greeted with a new pose from Eduardo, and Mark really wants to finish this essay so that he can go and bury his face into Eduardo’s crotch, so he resolves to stop looking.
After one more time.
Eduardo’s reflection is lying on his side, head propped on a palm as he reads from a book. No-not a book.
A magazine.
A red magazine.
Mark turns and dives at the bed in a motion so quick that he misses his target entirely, launching himself promptly over the corner of his bed, and landing with a hard crack onto the floor. Mark lays there, cradling his side in pain as Eduardo hums thoughtfully.
“Mark?”
Mark wheezes, “Yeah?”
“Have you been using tips from a women’s magazine to seduce me?”
Mark considers denying it, but knows it’s no use.
He may or may not have made notes in the margin.
“Yeah?”
Eduardo asks, “Me, exclusively?” to which Mark rolls his eyes.
“No, I’m seducing you and the entire lacrosse team, I’m a very busy guy.”
“It’s just-you have this one crossed out, and-“ The bed shifts when Eduardo peeks at Mark over the edge, eyes bewildered. “When did we go lingerie shopping?”
Mark stares.
Then Eduardo gives this incredulous, very un-Wardo-like snort. “Wal-Mart? You took me to Wal-Mart to shop for boxer-briefs for the purpose of seducing me?”
Mark shrugs against the floor.
“Not that I’m not flattered by all this… effort, but you do realize-” And then Eduardo pauses, like he might not finish, fingering the edges of the magazine paper instead. Mark’s about to protest that with a manner of indignation, but Eduardo eventually concludes in this small, reluctant voice, “I’ve been pretty much stupidly in love with you from day one?”
Mark doesn’t know what to say.
Love?
“Are you sure?” Mark sort of thinks he’d notice something like that.
Now Eduardo rolls his eyes, “Yes Mark, I’m sure-also apparently a masochist, because you’re kind of an asshole, you know?”
“Yeah.” That he’s been one to Eduardo makes Mark sad.
“Don’t be sad,” Eduardo insists. “You don’t always mean to be, it just has more impact-on me-than others? Or something.”
“You wouldn’t even look at my ass,” Mark accuses.
Eduardo balks, pulling himself closer to the edge, and rants, “What are you talking about? I’m always looking at your ass, Mark. I need an ass intervention. I have to, like, distract myself with other things just so I won’t become a total assoholic. You have a hole in your shorts, by the way. In the back pocket of the khakis? I’m always picking up your change.” Eduardo then nods pointedly to the pile of quarters and dimes that’s always left on Mark’s desk, just beside his mouse.
Mark is flabbergasted. Like the threads of his very reality are unraveling in some way. He gapes up at Eduardo and swears, “I never noticed.”
“I know.” And now it’s Eduardo who sounds sad, flopping back onto the bed.
Mark clears his throat, maybe so when he speaks, it won’t sound as loud and earth-shattering as it feels to admit, “For what it’s worth, I have… feelings too.”
After a long moment of Mark’s fidgeting, Eduardo breathes, “For me?”
“I’m not good at expressing them.”
“Well yeah.” Eduardo laughs before breathing, “I’ve been worried.”
“Worried?”
“That this is just… sexual for you.”
The silence is palpable-thick-and Mark just feels so stupid. All this time pining and plotting, and Eduardo’s been staring at Mark’s ass? And he’s in love with Mark? And Mark is ruffling his hair and giving him awkward hugs?
“Wardo?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s not,” Mark promises. And then, because it seems like the thing to do when two people who are enjoying orgasms from one another have feelings, Mark decides, “You should be my boyfriend.”
In a pause that seems to stretch on for years, but is actually probably only a few seconds, Eduardo softly agrees, “Okay.”
Mark adds, “And have sex with me all the time.”
Another laugh, “Okay.”
“And do my essays for Art History.”
“Mark,” Eduardo sighs, all long and burdened, but with a smile audible in his voice. “Get off the floor and come try out #26, okay?”
“The one with the pillows?” Mark sits up and peeks over the bed in an attempt to read from the open magazine. “And then you’ll do my essay?”
Eduardo smirks. “And then I’ll try getting to that fourth finger again.”
*
Move #15: Say you’re going to take a nap, but strip suggestively. Let him find you naked and ready.
Dustin enters whistling, head nodding along to whatever is playing on his MP3 player.
When he sees Mark’s face, he freezes.
The whistling dies.
He pulls an earbud from his ear. “Yikes, you’re mad.”
Mark agrees, “Yes.”
“At me?”
“Yes.”
“It’s kind of scary.”
Again, Mark agrees, “Yes.”
“What did I do?”
Mark produces a large, crinkly silver bag, which is empty. “Care to explain this?”
Dustin worries his lip, shrugging. “They were yummy in my tummy?”
“I had plans for these.”
“Whatever man, I’ll buy you more.”
“I need them now. Tonight. In one hour. Can you do that, Dustin? Can you magically reproduce an entire bag of Hershey Kisses in under sixty minutes without devouring them as if they are, in fact, the only sustenance available on planet fucking Earth?”
Dustin laughs, “Nope.”
Mark’s nostrils flare as he crushes the bag in a fist, and Dustin’s laugh transforms to a gulp.
“You’ve been a diva lately, Mark. Have you given any consideration to getting laid?”
Which was the exact wrong thing to say, so Mark reaches for the nearest semi-heavy item (Dustin’s shoe, of course), and chucks it at his head.
Dustin ducks and flees the room, and Mark is left sitting there, on the sofa, with no Hershey Kisses.
Dustin just ate Tip #19.
Tip #20 was ruled out when Mark discovered just how much roses cost, and he wasn’t even particularly attached to that one, because a trail of rose petals to the bedroom? Girly and stupid, and Mark had thought, well.
At least Hershey Kisses can be eaten afterward?
After Mark finally got laid, that is.
It was practical.
But now they’re gone, and he has no rose petals, and Eduardo will be here in an hour, and Mark doesn’t know how to seduce him into promptly and thoroughly fucking Mark, because they’ve been “boyfriends” for like almost two months, and Mark-Mark loves getting finger-fucked by Eduardo more than just about anything, but Mark is ready to get fuck-fucked, and Eduardo-
He keeps skirting around it.
Mark must seduce him.
With an expression that must convey the world will end if Eduardo’s dick isn’t shoved up my ass in three hours or less, Mark bursts into his room and flips frantically through the tattered Redbook.
Mark’s already used all hand-related moves, and he’s already tried #8. For the record, trench coats and hoodies are apparently not interchangeable when it comes to seduction moves involving nudity in public. Completely loses effect.
Mark has given numbers 27 and 28 commendable effort, but Eduardo’s just usually behind Mark when Mark is orgasming, so any deep gazes of emotional significance are missed.
Eduardo doesn’t watch sports, so #23 is out of the question.
Mark figures his best bet is #15, and then he resolves to buy a new issue of Redbook, because this one has been exhausted to the point of shame.
Eduardo struts in at exactly ten, all clean-shaven and perfect-haired and tailored and tall and-
Mark sighs.
He’s so getting laid tonight.
“Where is everyone?” Eduardo asks, falling beside Mark on the couch.
“Out.”
Eduardo’s eyebrows rise at that, his arm lifting and lifting, until it’s draped behind Mark’s shoulders, resting on the couch there. “That so?”
“We are completely alone.” If Mark put any stronger emphasis on the word, it’d emerge from his mouth sounding like, Your cock would feel amazing up my anus, please and thanks.
Eduardo grins and mouths along Mark’s jaw, nipping the sensitive spot where face turns to neck. “What should we do?” he asks against Mark’s skin, hand already groping for Mark’s crotch.
Mark stands, rigid, and looking over his shoulder, declares, “I’m going to take a nap, actually.”
Eduardo’s face falls, head snapping back in shock. “A nap?”
Mark lifts one shoulder before walking away, removing his shirt as he goes. He tries to do the slow stripping thing, but the truth is, Mark’s room isn’t far enough from the couch to merit it. He has to slow his step when he realizes he was basically in a sprint and is already a foot away from his door.
Aw fuck it, he thinks, and just throws off his shirt right there, in his doorway. Then he drops his pants, looking behind him while bent over, and Eduardo is staring at Mark, but he’s-
He looks kind of mad.
Mark yanks his jeans off one foot, but loses his balance and has to catch himself on the frame of the door, face flushing red as he disappears inside.
He gets naked, lies on his bed, and waits.
Mark experiments with a few differing poses. First, on his side, hand propped on a palm in a very I am ready for your penis, Mr. Saverin kind of position.
You know.
Classy.
But then, Mark looks down, sees his dick kind of flopped unflatteringly over his thigh, and decides against that.
Second, Mark lies on his back, but that seems boring, so he lifts onto his elbows, stares at his toes and waits.
But he decides that he wants there to be no mistaking exactly what it is he desires, so Mark throws all caution and dignity to the wind and gets on all fours.
Ass up.
Head down.
Mark gets comfortable feeling the air on his exposed-and already well-lubricated-skin.
He’s already stretched himself.
Mark wiggles his ass in the air, grinning.
He waits.
...and waits.
Looks over his shoulder at the door.
Stares at his pillow again.
Picks at a loose thread.
That’s when Mark hears the door opening. His face breaks into a wide grin as he bows his back, feels his ass cheeks spread obscenely.
He might even moan-you know. For atmospheric effect.
There is a horrific scream.
A bag of Hershey Kisses lands on the floor with a crinkly pop.
Mark screams back, covers his crotch, and leaps from the bed. “What are you doing,” he shrieks.
“What am I doing?” Dustin repeats, pale-faced. “What are you doing?”
“Whatever I want. This is my room!”
“I need bleach.” Dustin scrubs at his eyes, head shaking. “Inside my brain, right this second. Make it go away!”
Eduardo would choose now to come barging into the room, eyes big and panicked as he demands, “What’s wrong?” Of course, once he sees Mark’s very naked and tense state, his panic transforms into a wry expression. “I thought you were taking a nap?”
Dustin turns to Eduardo, shoving a finger at Mark. “Wardo, I’ve seen things. Appalling things!”
“You can’t seriously be this dense,” Mark insists, mouth agape. “Number fifteen, remember? With the. And I took off my clothes. Before. And then the nap.” Mark points needlessly at the bed. “I was waiting for you.”
Mark is mad-mad and mortified and red and-he wants a hole to magically appear so he can promptly crawl into it and die.
Dustin’s eyes grow so big, Mark worries they might fall out. “You were doing that for him?”
Eduardo crosses his arms over his chest, lips set into an angry-thin line. “Yeah, Mark. Please enlighten us as to why you’re sitting in bed, naked, waiting for me.”
Mark gapes openly at Eduardo, shrieking, “Because you won’t fuck me!”
“Ohmygod,” Dustin covers his ears and retreats from the room, calling behind him. “Enjoy your candy, I’m leaving. I need Eternal Sunshine levels of mental help after this.”
After he’s left, Eduardo and Mark just stare at one another, Mark sulking, Eduardo still inexplicably hostile.
“We haven’t had sex yet,” Mark mumbles, and he’s rather compelled to bring up that frequent sex had been a vital prerequisite to their change of relationship status.
Eduardo shoves a finger at him, eyes livid. “You never asked or talked about it, Mark! You can’t just seduce me every time you want to get off. I know this might sound like crazy talk to you, but two people in a relationship? They have to eventually like, mutually agree to do it. God, it’s called communication! Do you only read the portions of Redbook that get you laid?”
Mark thinks for a moment. “Yes.”
“Well it doesn’t always work like that!” Eduardo says, “Some things are too important to not be said aloud. And sometimes-sometimes there’s a fine line between seduction and manipulation, just so you know.”
And then he leaves.
Like, there’s for real flouncing and stuff. His coat is all billowy.
So Mark is naked and still a man-virgin, and how is that even fair or like, remotely possible? He has to put on clothes now and-does Eduardo even know what an unnecessarily lubed asshole is like? It’s slippery and uncomfortable, is what it is.
He rages around the dorm and eats half the bag of Hershey Kisses before Mark decides that he’s not going to take this.
Mark is a person.
He storms through campus like that-nostrils big and ass crack squelching-and he tells himself that he’s not all wrong here and that Eduardo apparently sucks at communication, too, because Mark doesn’t even know what he did wrong, and seduction is nothing like manipulation anyway.
But then Mark realizes they’ve had a fight and he pauses right there, halfway between their two houses.
Mark and his boyfriend are fighting.
What if Eduardo doesn’t want to see him? What if Mark fucked up too bad? What if-even if Mark was totally in the right to want some sexing from his uber hot Brazilian boyfriend-Eduardo won’t care?
If Mark is right, will it even ultimately matter if Eduardo is gone?
Well obviously not.
Mark turns and stomps back to Kirkland. He decides this is a problem not even Redbook can solve, and even if it could, Mark has a hunch that Eduardo maybe might not want to be seduced at this particular point in time.
Maybe he wants to be romanced.
*
It’s raining two hours later when Mark arrives at Eduardo’s dorm, which is apt.
He shakes the water from his hair and squints up to where he approximates Eduardo’s window to be.
The light is on.
With a nod, Mark presses ‘play’ and lifts the boombox over his head.
Finding it wasn’t easy. No one owns a boombox nowadays, unless you count Steven in 284L who has unhealthy levels of affection for the ‘80s, and Mark does, because Steven has approved this as a classic no-fail romantic gesture.
“If this doesn’t get you laid, there’s no hope for you,” he had told Mark.
The soft sounds of Peter Gabriel’s voice come crooning through the speakers. It sounds loud to Mark-also, apparently to the small group of passersby who pause to gawk at the spectacle like they might take out their picture phones in the very near future-but Mark wonders if it can be heard all the way up there and he cranks the volume.
He’s drawing a lot of attention.
The camera phones make an appearance.
Someone-male-is laughing.
Someone-female-elbows them.
A girl comes to stand beside him, follows his gaze to the window and she waits there with him, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. More girls join the fray, a couple guys. Mark had anticipated something a little more intimate, but whatever.
Everyone is waiting for Eduardo.
Just then, Peter’s voice begins to sound a lot less croon-y and a little more ominous. Mark lowers the boombox and frowns at the borderline satanic-voice emerging from it. He smacks it on the side and one of the girls breaks the silence.
“I think the rain got inside.”
Mark looks at her and back at the boombox, hitting it harder, even though it doesn’t help. “Fucking thing, it hasn’t even gotten to the chorus yet.”
“You could just go up and talk to him,” someone else suggests, only Mark had never specified he was doing this for a guy and also the voice is uncomfortably familiar.
Mark spins around and Eduardo’s there, drenched hair, little droplets falling from his lashes. “You-you’re supposed to be up there.” Mark points at the window as if to punctuate this, confused.
The small group pivots to Eduardo, some surprised, but most grinning in anticipation. Mark had no idea his generation could be so excitedly voyeuristic.
“I was getting the usual you’ve-been-an-ass-to-me supplies,” Eduardo explains, pulling the top of a liquor bottle from a soggy paper bag.
“Oh.” Mark shifts awkwardly but eventually presses ‘stop’ because Peter’s singing about eyes and light and heat is getting creepy. “It’s a romantic gesture,” he explains of the boombox, and Eduardo nods.
“I used my tiny brain to deduce that.”
“Your brain’s not tiny,” Mark argues. “It’s just operating differently from mine, and I’d prefer if we could remedy that without a preventable separation.”
Eduardo lifts an eyebrow.
“I mean…” Mark deadpans, “Please don’t break up with me.”
Eduardo’s face seems to soften, but it’s effortless, like maybe he was finding it difficult to appear angry at all. “Come upstairs,” he sighs, pushing past everyone.
Mark smirks at the crowd as he cradles the boombox beneath his arm, their disappointed, unison sounds disappearing behind him as he follows Eduardo inside.
“Does this mean you forgive me?” Mark asks when they’ve entered Eduardo’s room, both dripping messily onto the floor.
Eduardo turns to him and tiredly says, “Yes.”
“Does this mean we can have sex now?”
“No.” He’s looking angry again.
So Mark kind of is, too. “Seduction isn’t manipulation and also you suck at communication, too and I over-applied lube for your enormous penis and now whenever I walk it feels funny.” Mark adds, “And I’m sad.”
Eduardo blinks at him before taking a deep breath, and Mark knows this. Eduardo is making a list, deciding which to tackle first. He goes chronologically. “When used in moderation, no, seduction isn’t manipulation, but when it’s the only tool a manipulative person-don’t give me that look, you know it’s true, Mark-when it’s all you do, it starts feeling manipulative, okay?”
Mark frowns. “So what am I supposed to do, just... ask politely?”
“No-yes-sometimes, Mark, I don’t know, just.” Eduardo collapses into a chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sometimes, it should just happen naturally. And other times, seduction is nice. But other times, for the big stuff, like-like for example, this? Our first time?” He gives Mark a significant looks and concludes, “It shouldn’t be only on your terms. Maybe you could give me a say in it before... persuading me, you know?”
“Oh.” Mark thinks he gets it. “Oh.” He’s pretty sure. “Oooooh.” No, he totally gets it.
“See what I mean?”
“Because I had a lot of time,” Mark realizes. “To plan and prepare, and you had nothing.”
“Yes.”
“I planned our first time without you.”
“Exactly.”
“You want it to be like, special and so on or something.”
“Sure.”
Mark is having an epiphany. “I’m having an epiphany.”
“Does it include something about abuse of power?”
“No, I already had that one.” Mark paces, very focused. It’s right there, he’s on the cusp of grasping something very important, and then-“I don’t think I have to seduce you anymore.”
Eduardo throws his hands in the air. “That’s what I’ve been saying!”
He turns to him, a little thrown. “You’ll have sex with me. Without pretense.”
“Duh.”
“That’s-” Well, it’s baffling is what it is. Without his seduction technique, Mark is just some awkward guy who sometimes runs into things because he’s so busy staring at his toes and contemplating graphical user interfaces. Strip away all the pretense and Mark isn’t a smooth motherfucker, he’s just-
He’s just Mark.
“You like me,” Mark realizes.
“Of course I like you, Mark.” Eduardo rolls his eyes but then looks away, adding, “I love you, I told you that.”
And he had, but the thing is, it’s almost more monumental to Mark that Eduardo likes him. You can’t choose who you love. You don’t have to like who you love. Mark loves his sisters, and he doesn’t like them at all. Obviously, the type of love is different, but the sentiment still applies.
“I never said it back,” Mark remembers.
“I noticed.” Eduardo looks at him and it’s not expectant in any way, not like a prompt, you know, for Mark to go ahead and spit it out so he can get laid and Eduardo will be happy. Actually, Eduardo simply smiles, sort of sad, but ultimately accepting.
Mark doesn’t have to say it back.
But he totally does. Then he has to add, “I’m not saying it because your eyes get big and sad when I don’t, but because it makes me sad to see it, since I love you and that apparently comes with the territory-and is also incredibly annoying, so please use it sparingly, because I’m starting to understand that whole abuse of power thing better.”
Eduardo snorts, but he’s smiling, even though his face is turned to the window, Mark can tell, because his cheeks are like enormous. “I’ll try to not be sad, for you.”
“I’d appreciate it.” And after a beat, “And I promise to use my moves more responsibly in the future.”
Being irresistibly sexy is such a terrible burden.
They share a look and Mark lowers himself gingerly onto the bed, grimacing when his ass cheeks glide against one another.
Eduardo is, regrettably, observant. “You’ve really got-?”
“Lube all over my ass?”
Eduardo’s staring distractedly at the point between Mark’s legs when he nods.
Mark nods. “Yes.”
So it goes like this:
Mark and Eduardo open the whiskey and start drinking. Then they get naked. Well, there’s talking and other crap in between those two points, but let’s focus on what’s important here.
Sex is going to happen and stuff.
Mark doesn’t even have to fret about it or prepare for it or ask nicely for it, because they’re making out and rubbing against each other and there’s this whole thing with gazes and some weird weightiness on the whole thing that sort of makes it clear what’s going down.
Besides Eduardo, Mark means.
“I’ve never done this,” Mark informs him, of anal sex.
Eduardo’s already got two fingers in Mark’s ass, eyes bright-glassy, lips kiss-swollen-slick as they pop off his erection. “No? Well, yeah, I mean. Me either.”
“Good.” Mark isn’t equipped to deal with the implications of that since he’s too busy almost-getting-laid.
Being sexually active is a lot of work, okay?
There is the usual sucking and fingering, only this time they stop before it gets really good, which would be a bad thing, except that Eduardo has condoms and he’s staring between Mark’s legs, which are splayed to either side of him, and Mark is still kind of humping up into nothing, so he probably looks like a total slut for it, which is basically the case.
“You’re so hot like this,” Eduardo says, eyes transfixed. “You have no idea how you look right now.”
Inside, Mark preens and thinks I can be a slut for you whenever, no problem, but all that emerges for real is “Unghkhggk.”
And also his eye might twitch.
He lifts his knees for Eduardo, who puts his penis promptly where Mark’s ready for it, and it doesn’t hurt-Mark’s practically had all five of Eduardo’s fingers up there-but it is a little overwhelming, and Mark has to stop Eduardo from just sliding into home base, because he has to open his mouth and say, “Hnnggyu,” which is really mid-anal-speak for,
“Ohmygodyouhaveapenisanditisinsidemerigh
tnow. Give me a sec.”
Eduardo complies, only now it’s his eye that’s twitching and he kisses Mark and they share a laugh when he slips out, but it’s less of a ha-ha-this-is-funny laugh and more of a ha-ha-don’t-fucking-do-that-again kind of laugh.
When they can, it’s deep and perfect, and in the middle of Eduardo driving into him, Mark pushes him over and reverses their positions, riding Eduardo’s dick like a seasoned pro. You know, if a seasoned pro got a foot cramp and had to pause to crack his toes, which is totally possible, even sex pros get cramps, right?
There are orgasms, messy and frenzied and slippery and Eduardo says into Mark’s ear when he has his, “Yggghunng,” and Mark agrees into Eduardo’s when he has his, “Uuuhhhgggnnf.”
It can’t be more than minutes later that they’re laying side-by-side, still sticky and messy-haired and loose-boned, barely having caught their breath even, that they’re passing the bottle of whiskey back and forth again because... well, why not?
Mark has to wonder, “So that was what you were waiting for?” and Eduardo looks confused so Mark adds, “That was the special sex?”
Not that Mark didn’t enjoy it, it’s just...
“I did things,” Mark says, annoyed. “I did really undignified Peter Gabriel things, Wardo. Not to even mention that I considered sprinkling rose petals in places however briefly, and-getting drunk and fucking me missionary is your version of special first-time sex?”
Eduardo’s face turns guilty-red as he gulps his paused mouthful of whiskey. “I didn’t have a lot of time, and. You were. With the being wet. And all lubed up, and. Don’t look at me like that! I don’t have women’s magazines to get sex advice from.”
He finishes with a bitter huff, but Eduardo does this thing with his mouth. It’s all slanty and self-effacing.
Mark rolls his eyes, and if he presses himself closer to Eduardo then it is not cuddling. It's just, you know, after-sex physical contact. “The sex was perfectly adequate, stop being unnecessarily disappointed with yourself.”
“I could have done rose petals,” Eduardo mutters into Mark's hair.
“To be fair, I probably would have laughed at you.”
Eduardo demands, “I can be smooth, okay?”
Mark nods earnestly, “Of course,” but vows to make Dustopher Moskohughes’s new monthly Redbook subscriptions accessible to Eduardo, just in case.
End.