Fic: Broken Things
Title: Broken Things
Rating: G
Fandom: The Social Network
Pairing: Eduardo/Mark (Pre-slash)
Summary: Eduardo and Mark meet in a coffee shop.
Here or AO3
In a lot of ways, you could say that Mark has given up. This is not the case, nor is it how he views it. He’s gained perspective, which is really just a way for people to say they’ve fucked up, but he’s learning how to be modest. Apparently self-deprecation is a good way of doing this. (“You’re making up for years of acting like an entitled prick,” Chris says, when he brings it up.) But the point is that Mark is twenty-something, a billionaire, and he’s come a long way from being a college student with too much to prove. He is still stubborn in most ways, but he’s willing to accept when he’s wrong if someone can prove it, and getting better at accepting that his opinion is not always the right one.
“Eduardo,” he says, vying for attention, and simultaneously hoping it doesn’t come off that way.
Eduardo looks up over the rim of his glasses, folding his book so that his finger marks the page he was on. At first, he doesn’t recognize Mark, just looks at his face without comprehending. Mark can sympathize; he’s often found himself in the same state when he’s resurfaced from coding. Less often, lately, but the feeling is still the same. Eduardo catches up soon enough, his face going from guarded to nonchalant in less than a second. It hurts; Mark isn’t going to lie to himself, because Eduardo’s first reaction is to be cautious, but he wants to be indifferent. Mark was expecting at least one.
“I didn’t take you for a fantasy kind of guy,” Mark says. He had a list of things to say building up just in the ten minutes since he’d first seen Eduardo sitting here. Safe things like the weather, rising gas prices, and whether Snookie is a type of cookie or a product Eduardo puts in his hair.
Eduardo starts to say something, lips forming the words, but he backtracks, and says instead, “A friend recommended it to me.” He looks confused and uncomfortable.
Mark wipes his hands on his jeans. He lets himself because Chris said it was good to let your emotions become blatant sometimes. Dustin had encouraged his “becoming a real boy.” Mark compared him to the donkey kid with the freckles.
Mark knows it doesn’t always work on Eduardo, though, because Eduardo had always known what he was feeling anyway. Or he had assumed, and just guessed really accurately. Eduardo doesn’t care that Mark is nervous and shows it by fingering the sleeve of his shirt and chewing on his bottom lip. Eduardo is looking around for an escape, as if the barista holds the key to the castle that is currently holding him hostage.
Mark decides to be the knight instead, and wants to kick himself for this metaphor. “I can leave,” he says quickly.
Eduardo takes off his glasses, thick-rimmed and black, folds them up and puts them in the chest pocket of his button-up shirt. He looks as casual as he can be. Taking a day off, perhaps, and it gives Mark hope, because then Eduardo won’t have anyone but himself to interrupt this, even though Mark is already hoping that someone will.
When he looks up, his face is blank, and maybe Mark isn’t good enough at reading people yet, but there’s pain there when Eduardo says, “You can stay.”
“Can I sit?” Mark gestures to the chair across for Eduardo. When he nods, Mark settles in stiffly. “There was a conference, and I really didn’t want to get the shitty coffee they had there, so yeah, here I am,” he says to explain his situation.
“The line’s really long,” Eduardo notes, fingers brushing dryly over the paper of the book.
Mark nods. “It is, and then I saw you here, so I… Your book; what’s it about?”
The explanation and reason to why he had wanted to approach, why he had no choice but to approach Eduardo as he sat here, as if fate had placed him in his lap, in this quaint coffee shop on the corner by a Noodles and Company was on the tip of his tongue. But he’d backed off, because he had learned that sometimes what he plans to say isn’t always the right thing to. He sees that in the way Eduardo’s shoulders relax at his abrupt, completely unsubtle topic shift.
So they talk about this novel of dragons and magic, of knights of deceit and valor, of corruption and misplaced loyalty. Dustin has always been the one interested in this type of thing, but his explanations are far too enthusiastic and not very informative. Eduardo, though, explains it in that captivating way of his. This isn’t his “we’re looking for ads, this is my business face” voice, but his enthused “that looks good, that looks really good” one, Mark’s favorite. It starts out hesitant, of course, but soon Eduardo is lost in his very apparent interest in this book. It has a plot, but it isn’t lost in it. It’s a story about emotion and how humans are so eager to hurt and prove their beliefs to each other. That sometimes a friend can be your largest enemy, and your family your only weakness.
It’s a good book, Mark concedes, even though he’s never read it. Eduardo holds it like it’s something precious, and that’s enough for Mark. Eduardo has never misplaced his adoration as long as the object of it can’t hurt him back. Mark is glad that a book is what has Eduardo’s attention right now, and Mark feels horrible for thinking it.
“I think I’ll pick up a copy later,” Mark says, leaning back in his chair, coffee finally in hand. He feels inadequate for a moment, because while Eduardo has been pouring over details for his explanation, Mark has been wondering what to say next, and what he has to say is frivolous in comparison.
Eduardo nods briskly, not minding it. “Yeah, yeah, but oh! Not this one, this is the second one. Here, let me…” And then he’s digging in the laptop bag hanging off the back of his chair, fishing out a pen. He grabs a napkin and starts writing on it. “Get this one first. It’s a series.”
Mark takes the napkin and smiles at it, folding it and putting it gently into his pocket. “Thanks, I will.”
“There’s a character in there that’s really, well, he’s kind of really great. My favorite, actually. I’ll let you guess who it is when you start reading it.”
Mark stutters out his next sentence, coming to a complete halt at the same time that Eduardo does. Both of their eyes widen, but both of them soldier on the conversation while ignoring that Eduardo had opened up another line of communication that neither of them was prepared for. The conversation is stilted, of course, as it was in the beginning, and Mark can feel Eduardo closing off again. He feels it deep in his chest, and pushes it down even further.
They’re about to go, Mark looking at his watch and frowning at it, Eduardo taking that as a cue to stand up shakily. They’ve been sitting for an hour, at least. It’s a strange feeling. Then, Eduardo reaches out and yanks the napkin out of Mark’s pocket, Mark protesting lightly but shutting up quickly when Eduardo starts writing on it again. Then he shoves it back in.
“I’ll see y-Bye,” Eduardo says, turning and heading towards the door. Mark watches his walk down the street through the tall glass windows of the coffee shop.
It’s only when he’s out of sight that Mark tugs the napkin back out and lays it out over his palm gently. There’s an email and a message.
You get three guesses.