with you it's strange electronic reactions; the social network; r
title: with you it's strange electronic reactions
fandom: The Social Network
pairing: Sean/Eduardo
rating: Hard R
word count: ~3500
summary: Post-movie. Sean and Eduardo work out their collective issues through a series of meetings. Success varies.
disclaimer: "The Social Network" does not belong to me, and the real people on which it was based do not either.
notes: I know that in the movie, Sean cashes in almost all of his shares, but in reality, he still owns stock, and that was the fact that got imprinted in my mind, so that's what I'm using as far as this fic is concerned. Other than that, I really have no idea what I wrote here. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Hope you enjoy!
Eduardo avoids upscale restaurants because he doesn't feel upscale himself; his own inner nouveau riche demons have only gained momentum since Harvard, and he's never been comfortable with the casual elegance when his own always seems so forced.
He's long since learned that the business world means doing things that he'd rather not, however. So he sits and waits for his prospective client to show up and tries to ignore the white tablecloths and fancy dresses and instead concentrates intently on the way the lemon disseminates through his water glass.
He hears a laugh and sees movement out of the corner of his eye and is turning his head slightly before he can stop himself. Sean Parker is sitting at the table in the corner, girly drink balanced precariously in his outstretched hand and leaning forward to talk to the two women sitting in rapt attention before him. He's mid-sentence but he catches Eduardo's eye and stops, letting a slow, predatory smile spread over his face as he recognizes who exactly he's staring at.
Eduardo would like to stomp over and ask just why he's in New York City, who's too absentee now, but then his client shows up and Eduardo's standing up and all smiles and charm and playing the part of the caring employee. By the time the check is paid, Sean Parker is gone. Eduardo can't say he's disappointed.
The next time Eduardo sees him, he's walking down the street, seriously, the fucking street, and Sean Parker is coming the opposite direction and stops Eduardo with a light brush of his hand. "Eduardo Saverin," he says. His voice is low and rich and Eduardo never wants to hear that bastard say his name again. "How are you doing?"
"Fuck off." Eduardo's mother would be horrified at his manners but he doesn't even care anymore; he's lost his taste for politeness over the last year. He moves to keep on walking but Sean's hand tightens around his wrist and Eduardo doesn't want to make a big scene by struggling.
"Eduardo, come on. We're both adults here." Sean's smile is wide and he won't relinquish his hold. "Why don't we have lunch and catch up?"
"I don't have anything to say to you." But Sean is already writing an address and a time and a phone number on a slip of paper and slipping it into Eduardo's pocket.
"Don't be late," Sean says. He walks away. Eduardo rubs his wrist and tells himself that there's no way in hell he's having dinner with Sean Parker tomorrow. He already knows it won't work.
The place is just as classy as Eduardo doesn't want it to be. He walks in with his hands deep in his suit pockets and Sean is already there, leaning back in his chair and flirting with the waitress. He sees Eduardo and gestures him over with a flick of his fingers. Eduardo wants to do nothing more than leave right where Sean can see it, or maybe throw a drink in his face or something, but instead he walks over and sits down with gritted teeth.
Sean orders Eduardo's drink for him and the waitress heads off. "Eduardo Saverin." Is that all you know how to say? but now Eduardo's here and too curious to sabotage this whole thing now. "How's life been?"
"I don't know what I'm doing here." The words tumble out of him like vomit and Eduardo's powerless to stop them. "I-shouldn't you be in Palo Alto?"
Sean should be taken aback by the question, but instead he's looking at Eduardo like some sort of mildly interesting slug. "I've decided to take less of a creative interest in the company and assume the more typical role of a shareholder." He's barely even fazed, all the cool condescension that Eduardo doesn't know how to muster.
Eduardo grins and shakes his head, a little manically, because that's not-so code for "Mark pushed me out" and he's vindictive enough that the thought makes him happy. The waitress comes back with his drink and Eduardo doesn't know what it is but takes it anyway. "That's nice to hear," he bites, and it is, it nice to hear, but that's not the point.
He takes a deep breath and a sip of his drink, which is burns his throat unpleasantly and is probably something Sean ordered for that very purpose. "Why are we here, Sean? I meant it when I said that I don't have anything to say to you."
Sean's smile expands and his resemblance to a cat becomes even more apparent. "I asked you here because I wanted to play catch-up," he says nonchalantly, downing his drink but keeping his eyes firmly locked on Eduardo's own. "I don't exactly have a vested interest in you or your life anymore, but what can I say, I have trouble letting people go. Or maybe I just saw you on the street and thought you looked interesting, who knows."
Eduardo's had enough. He stands up. "I'll be right back," he breathes, though he's not sure whether or not that's exactly true.
The restroom is squirreled away in some dark recess of the restaurant and Eduardo spends an embarrassing minute wandering around trying to find it. It's a nice place, one of those places that should have a restroom attendant; Eduardo's thankful to find that it doesn't.
He stands in front of the mirror for a moment, staring at his facial features but barely registering them. It was a mistake to agree to have lunch with Sean, just as it had been a mistake to agree to have lunch with him the first time around, back when he was a college sophomore and an idiot. Eduardo sighs and leans his forward against the mirror, closing his eyes and relishing the coolness of the glass. Suddenly, he's feeling overheated.
"It wasn't personal, you know." Goddamn but Sean Parker has actually followed him into the bathroom. Eduardo doesn't turn around but opens his eyes and stands up straight, examining Sean's figure looming in the mirror in front of him.
"Like hell it wasn't," Eduardo snaps back. "It became personal the moment you decided to push me out of my company."
"It stopped being your company the day you stopped acting like it was," Sean shoots back, and then they're silent, Eduardo staring in the mirror and Sean staring at him, expression completely inscrutable.
"It wasn't personal," Sean repeats. He takes a few steps as to be uncomfortably close. "Facebook wasn't about you. It was never about you. It was never about one person."
"Are you quite done?" Eduardo's proud of how cool his voice is, considering how labored his breathing has become. Sean stops for a moment, then smiles and shakes his head.
"I've already paid for the drinks. Feel free to slip out quietly."
Eduardo does.
A few days later, Eduardo's in his apartment when his phone rings with an unknown number. His better instincts tell him to ignore it, but instead: "Hello?"
"Eduardo Saverin." He's getting tired of hearing his name in that voice.
"How did you get this number?" Eduardo doesn't need to ask who it is. "I didn't give it to you for a reason."
"I'm better connected than you are." The smile in his voice is practically tangible, and Eduardo can just picture what Sean is doing: probably laying on his couch, or maybe even his bed, multi-tasking with the TV or a magazine like Eduardo and his words aren't even important. "Our chat got cut short last time."
"For a reason." Eduardo's not in the mood to play games. "I don't want you in my life, period. Don't contact me again." He hangs up the phone and feels empowered.
After a moment, he looks through his recent calls, and adds "Parker, Sean" to his contact list. He prays that nobody will ever ask him why.
He's in a bookstore and he turns a corner and Sean is there. Which is stupid, really, because Eduardo's not usually one for bookstores, and Sean Parker shouldn't be allowed to be one for bookstores, so the likelihood of their meeting should really be so tiny as to be almost impossible. "Are you stalking me?" Eduardo asks, and it's a serious question.
Sean doesn't respond, just grabs Eduardo by the front of his shirt and shoves him against the bookshelf, hard enough that the entire thing shakes and Eduardo's worried it's going to topple over. He opens his mouth to say something, just anything, he doesn't even know yet, but Sean takes this a cue to shove his mouth against Eduardo's own.
It's sloppy and violent and more bite than kiss and Eduardo's mind wants him to shove Sean away and maybe call the police or something, but instead he bites back, wrapping his arms loosely around Sean's neck. They fight for another moment before Sean pulls back and wipes his mouth. He looks about as confused as Eduardo feels, which is to say: very. Eduardo opens his mouth, again, but is once again cut off when Sean turns on his heel and storms off, lost in the stacks with no way of recovery.
Eduardo returns to his browsing. He's forgotten what brought him there in the first place.
Later, when he takes off his jacket, he discovers another slip of paper with an address and time listed on it. He shudders to think that he didn't even notice Sean slip it in.
Eduardo hates being pinned down, so this is okay.
The restaurant is seedier than their last one, and Sean orders him a sensible beer rather than one of those complicated cocktails. Their conversation is just as awkward and stilted as the first time around, but when Eduardo again gets up for the restroom, Sean barely hesitates before following him.
"What is this, Sean?" There's no one in there and the entire place looks vaguely unclean; Eduardo is reminded of the bathrooms of most Harvard dormitories. He's leaning up against the wall and Sean's in the doorway and he doesn't know what brought him here in the first place, except maybe to see how Sean would react.
Sean doesn't answer his question and Eduardo thinks it's because he doesn't know. Instead, Sean walks over to him and presses their bodies together roughly. They aren't kissing but their foreheads are touching, and Eduardo closes his eyes so that he doesn't have to see what Sean's will inevitably tell him.
And then Sean's lips are on his jawline and Eduardo's responding, arching his hips and groaning low, guttural noises that really have no place in any sort of public venue. Before long Sean moves down to attack his collarbone and Eduardo knows that he's going to have marks there soon enough, and he'd like to be able to say that he doesn't care, but he does care, he really actually does.
So it's a relief when Sean pulls away, until Eduardo looks at him and realizes what he's asking by that manic glint in his eye. He's about to balk and run away but instead he slowly turns around and shoves Sean against the wall and drops to his knees.
He barely has time to take Sean into his mouth before Sean's fingers are wrapped tightly in his hair and jerking him upwards, which Eduardo is positive violates some sort of sexual etiquette. He doesn't stop, though, and almost can't; it doesn't take Sean long to work up a rhythm and Eduardo's quickly recalling whatever blow job techniques he has buried away in the corner of his mind.
He doesn't look up at Sean because he doesn't want to, because it's easier to imagine that he's not currently sucking off one of the two men most instrumental in ruining the past few years of his life. He puts his hands on either side of Sean's hips to steady himself, because he's dangerously close to losing balance completely and being completely reliant on Sean to hold him up.
Sean's not aware of any of this. He's thrusting into Eduardo's mouth and tugging and moaning some incoherent stream of babble that Eduardo doesn't care to bother to decode. He'd be pleased to know how little time it takes to get Sean to come, but with his last thrust, he's doing his best to hold Eduardo there with his cock deep in his throat, so Eduardo's gagging and choking and forced to swallow whether he likes it or not.
He pulls away and he's shaking. His face is wet, which is strange, because he doesn't remember crying; it must have happened in the last few moments. For the first time, Eduardo looks up at Sean: he's still standing there, back against the wall, breathing deeply with his cock out for the world to see, like he's still recovering from what Eduardo did to him. Did to him and Eduardo's glad to be able to do something to somebody, for once, even though his mouth tastes like semen and there's some unnamed substance on the knees of his pants.
Sean pays for the bill again. He grabs Eduardo a breath mint on the way out.
Two weeks later, it's a bar, not a restaurant, but Sean's the one on his knees this time. In a way, it's almost cold comfort.
Sean texts him an address and an apartment number and Eduardo doesn't want this. There's nothing wrong with "chance" encounters that happen every once in awhile; somehow, moving them somewhere more private feels too intimate. Eduardo tells him as much and doesn't show up for their next rendezvous because he genuinely doesn't want to. He chooses to stay home and watch a movie instead.
By the evening, Eduardo's hungry and he realizes far too late that his apartment contains nothing but Wheat Thins and Diet Coke and alcohol, which stopped being an acceptable meal around the time he graduated from college. He steps outside of his building and is immediately glad that he remembered his coat and scarf; he is just as immediately annoyed to see that Sean Parker is sitting expectantly outside, thermos in hand.
"You didn't show today." Sean is just studiedly casual enough to let Eduardo know that he's bothered by Eduardo's absence.
"I was busy." Eduardo shrugs and brushes Sean by without another looks and hopes he won't be followed but knows better than to expect it. He still winces when Sean grabs his arm and holds Eduardo tight against him.
"Like hell you have," Sean growls, and he's low and animalistic and Eduardo shudders. "I know you've been in there all afternoon and I know that whatever you did, you did on purpose." Suddenly, he releases Eduardo like he's been burned, then smiles like he's remembering some long-forgotten joke. "This-this is stupid. Do whatever you want. Just let me know next time."
He walks away in the opposite direction. Eduardo stands there for a moment and rubs his arm, then continues on his way to the market on the corner.
Eduardo's on his back in Sean Parker's bed. He should be getting ready for the business meeting he has in forty-five minutes but instead he's got his legs over Sean's shoulders and a warm mouth around his cock, which is more than a fair enough trade-off.
He's finally getting comfortable, finally working up a rhythm, when Sean changes direction and starts on Eduardo's inner thigh. "Sean," he gasps, and he's not even properly ashamed, just hard and digging his fingers into the sheets and ready to get this over with.
Sean doesn't respond but he smiles into Eduardo's skin as he sucks hard enough to leave a mark. Then he's moving downwards and, just, no, Eduardo would rather not go there, but his protest quickly shifts into a wordless whimper as Sean tongues his ass and then he has no real chance at all.
Eduardo's squirming and painfully aware of Sean's every touch, alternately shifting to get away from him and press into his mouth. He wants nothing more than to grab his cock and finish himself off already, but fuck you, that's Sean's job, and if he wanted to jack off he'd do it in the privacy of his own bedroom.
It's not going to be necessary, anyway: before long, Eduardo thinks he's about to come just from this alone and his entire body tenses up to prepare for the climax, which is of course when Sean sits up with a devilish smirk.
"You-fucking-bastard-" Eduardo has no dignity anymore, isn't even aware of the meaning of the word. Sean's slipping his boxers off and Eduardo doesn't even have to see the way he slides the lube over his cock to know what's coming next.
He'd much rather suck Sean off later than deal with this but his legs are spreading obligingly and then: the strange, indescribable pain-pleasure of someone else inside him. Sean rocks into him slowly and ignores Eduardo's outcries of "hurry up" for longer than Eduardo is okay with. His eyes are open but Sean's too close to his face and won't break his gaze; Eduardo shuts his eyes to avoid the blue stare.
And then Sean speeds up and he's not gentle; each thrust is rough and uneven and he's gripping Eduardo's arms hard enough to bruise. Eduardo's pushing back onto him now, trying to get the most out of every touch because he's aching and ready and almost there.
When Sean comes, he breathes Eduardo's name as to be almost be unintelligible. Eduardo just screams wordlessly.
They're lying in bed together because Eduardo's too sore to move and they both need time to recover. Sean's reading something, some cheap paperback with a a cover like a romance novel, but Eduardo's just lying there, steadying out his breaths and wondering how he ended up in this position.
"I talked to Mark the other day." Sean carefully doesn't do anything, just flips to the next page.
Eduardo looks at him for a long moment, thinks that Sean's like a damn book himself. With an effort, he rolls over on his side. He doesn't fall asleep.
Eduardo's out for drinks with a few of the other young guys from work. He's relaxed for the first time in awhile, flirting with the pretty girls sitting just out of reach and trying to ignore the hickey he can feel still throbbing underneath his collar.
"Go get us some more drinks, yeah?" Someone's pressing money into Eduardo's hands and shoving him towards the bar; he's not even sure that he knows this guy's name-David? Jason?-but Eduardo obliges, mentally cataloging the half-empty glasses he sees around him and heading to get them refilled.
The bartender's busy and entertaining the requests of some twenty-something punk is not high on his list of priorities, so Eduardo just stands there, waiting for the sea of flirtatious young women vying for a drink to part.
Someone brushes against him, too deftly to be by accident, and it's Sean, of course, walking by with his arm around some girl who looks barely old enough to be there at all. His eyes lock onto Eduardo's own for a brief second before staring determinedly ahead again. Eduardo doesn't know if it's an invitation or a fuck you, but he thinks he'd be okay with either.
He gets his drinks and brings them back to his friends, but slips away shortly afterwards. He doesn't see Sean for the rest of the night, but the guy who fucks him in the bathroom stall kind of looks like him.
Straddling Sean on the couch, both of them in their underwear but barely done anything yet.
"Wardo, I-"
"Don't call me that."
Eduardo stops answering Sean's texts and calls. He doesn't know why, really; nothing's changed, not that much, except that maybe Eduardo's lost his taste for getting shoved up against a wall and ravished by Sean Parker. Or that he'd rather not be fucking someone who knew him as a Harvard undergraduate; that's not Eduardo anymore-or at least he likes to think that it isn't.
Sean, for his part, takes the cue quickly and graciously, though Eduardo still gets the occasional drunk dial that makes his throat constrict and his vision blur. He doesn't see Sean, though, and that's the important part, the part that lets him continue to go to work and hang out with friends and take walks and read books and browse the internet and sleep at night.
Until Eduardo's out to dinner again, like he always seems to be; his life has become nothing but a series of dates and courtships under the guise of business meetings. He's more relaxed now, more willing to order for himself and smile and talk himself up draw clients in with the persona of the brilliant young upstart.
He's halfway through his dinner and there's Sean, across the room again, no beautiful women sitting across from him. It's been months, probably, something like that, something unfathomable and intangible like that. Eduardo meets his eyes for a moment and looks away easily, his smile never faltering. Sean was never smiling in the first place.
fandom: The Social Network
pairing: Sean/Eduardo
rating: Hard R
word count: ~3500
summary: Post-movie. Sean and Eduardo work out their collective issues through a series of meetings. Success varies.
disclaimer: "The Social Network" does not belong to me, and the real people on which it was based do not either.
notes: I know that in the movie, Sean cashes in almost all of his shares, but in reality, he still owns stock, and that was the fact that got imprinted in my mind, so that's what I'm using as far as this fic is concerned. Other than that, I really have no idea what I wrote here. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Hope you enjoy!
Eduardo avoids upscale restaurants because he doesn't feel upscale himself; his own inner nouveau riche demons have only gained momentum since Harvard, and he's never been comfortable with the casual elegance when his own always seems so forced.
He's long since learned that the business world means doing things that he'd rather not, however. So he sits and waits for his prospective client to show up and tries to ignore the white tablecloths and fancy dresses and instead concentrates intently on the way the lemon disseminates through his water glass.
He hears a laugh and sees movement out of the corner of his eye and is turning his head slightly before he can stop himself. Sean Parker is sitting at the table in the corner, girly drink balanced precariously in his outstretched hand and leaning forward to talk to the two women sitting in rapt attention before him. He's mid-sentence but he catches Eduardo's eye and stops, letting a slow, predatory smile spread over his face as he recognizes who exactly he's staring at.
Eduardo would like to stomp over and ask just why he's in New York City, who's too absentee now, but then his client shows up and Eduardo's standing up and all smiles and charm and playing the part of the caring employee. By the time the check is paid, Sean Parker is gone. Eduardo can't say he's disappointed.
The next time Eduardo sees him, he's walking down the street, seriously, the fucking street, and Sean Parker is coming the opposite direction and stops Eduardo with a light brush of his hand. "Eduardo Saverin," he says. His voice is low and rich and Eduardo never wants to hear that bastard say his name again. "How are you doing?"
"Fuck off." Eduardo's mother would be horrified at his manners but he doesn't even care anymore; he's lost his taste for politeness over the last year. He moves to keep on walking but Sean's hand tightens around his wrist and Eduardo doesn't want to make a big scene by struggling.
"Eduardo, come on. We're both adults here." Sean's smile is wide and he won't relinquish his hold. "Why don't we have lunch and catch up?"
"I don't have anything to say to you." But Sean is already writing an address and a time and a phone number on a slip of paper and slipping it into Eduardo's pocket.
"Don't be late," Sean says. He walks away. Eduardo rubs his wrist and tells himself that there's no way in hell he's having dinner with Sean Parker tomorrow. He already knows it won't work.
The place is just as classy as Eduardo doesn't want it to be. He walks in with his hands deep in his suit pockets and Sean is already there, leaning back in his chair and flirting with the waitress. He sees Eduardo and gestures him over with a flick of his fingers. Eduardo wants to do nothing more than leave right where Sean can see it, or maybe throw a drink in his face or something, but instead he walks over and sits down with gritted teeth.
Sean orders Eduardo's drink for him and the waitress heads off. "Eduardo Saverin." Is that all you know how to say? but now Eduardo's here and too curious to sabotage this whole thing now. "How's life been?"
"I don't know what I'm doing here." The words tumble out of him like vomit and Eduardo's powerless to stop them. "I-shouldn't you be in Palo Alto?"
Sean should be taken aback by the question, but instead he's looking at Eduardo like some sort of mildly interesting slug. "I've decided to take less of a creative interest in the company and assume the more typical role of a shareholder." He's barely even fazed, all the cool condescension that Eduardo doesn't know how to muster.
Eduardo grins and shakes his head, a little manically, because that's not-so code for "Mark pushed me out" and he's vindictive enough that the thought makes him happy. The waitress comes back with his drink and Eduardo doesn't know what it is but takes it anyway. "That's nice to hear," he bites, and it is, it nice to hear, but that's not the point.
He takes a deep breath and a sip of his drink, which is burns his throat unpleasantly and is probably something Sean ordered for that very purpose. "Why are we here, Sean? I meant it when I said that I don't have anything to say to you."
Sean's smile expands and his resemblance to a cat becomes even more apparent. "I asked you here because I wanted to play catch-up," he says nonchalantly, downing his drink but keeping his eyes firmly locked on Eduardo's own. "I don't exactly have a vested interest in you or your life anymore, but what can I say, I have trouble letting people go. Or maybe I just saw you on the street and thought you looked interesting, who knows."
Eduardo's had enough. He stands up. "I'll be right back," he breathes, though he's not sure whether or not that's exactly true.
The restroom is squirreled away in some dark recess of the restaurant and Eduardo spends an embarrassing minute wandering around trying to find it. It's a nice place, one of those places that should have a restroom attendant; Eduardo's thankful to find that it doesn't.
He stands in front of the mirror for a moment, staring at his facial features but barely registering them. It was a mistake to agree to have lunch with Sean, just as it had been a mistake to agree to have lunch with him the first time around, back when he was a college sophomore and an idiot. Eduardo sighs and leans his forward against the mirror, closing his eyes and relishing the coolness of the glass. Suddenly, he's feeling overheated.
"It wasn't personal, you know." Goddamn but Sean Parker has actually followed him into the bathroom. Eduardo doesn't turn around but opens his eyes and stands up straight, examining Sean's figure looming in the mirror in front of him.
"Like hell it wasn't," Eduardo snaps back. "It became personal the moment you decided to push me out of my company."
"It stopped being your company the day you stopped acting like it was," Sean shoots back, and then they're silent, Eduardo staring in the mirror and Sean staring at him, expression completely inscrutable.
"It wasn't personal," Sean repeats. He takes a few steps as to be uncomfortably close. "Facebook wasn't about you. It was never about you. It was never about one person."
"Are you quite done?" Eduardo's proud of how cool his voice is, considering how labored his breathing has become. Sean stops for a moment, then smiles and shakes his head.
"I've already paid for the drinks. Feel free to slip out quietly."
Eduardo does.
A few days later, Eduardo's in his apartment when his phone rings with an unknown number. His better instincts tell him to ignore it, but instead: "Hello?"
"Eduardo Saverin." He's getting tired of hearing his name in that voice.
"How did you get this number?" Eduardo doesn't need to ask who it is. "I didn't give it to you for a reason."
"I'm better connected than you are." The smile in his voice is practically tangible, and Eduardo can just picture what Sean is doing: probably laying on his couch, or maybe even his bed, multi-tasking with the TV or a magazine like Eduardo and his words aren't even important. "Our chat got cut short last time."
"For a reason." Eduardo's not in the mood to play games. "I don't want you in my life, period. Don't contact me again." He hangs up the phone and feels empowered.
After a moment, he looks through his recent calls, and adds "Parker, Sean" to his contact list. He prays that nobody will ever ask him why.
He's in a bookstore and he turns a corner and Sean is there. Which is stupid, really, because Eduardo's not usually one for bookstores, and Sean Parker shouldn't be allowed to be one for bookstores, so the likelihood of their meeting should really be so tiny as to be almost impossible. "Are you stalking me?" Eduardo asks, and it's a serious question.
Sean doesn't respond, just grabs Eduardo by the front of his shirt and shoves him against the bookshelf, hard enough that the entire thing shakes and Eduardo's worried it's going to topple over. He opens his mouth to say something, just anything, he doesn't even know yet, but Sean takes this a cue to shove his mouth against Eduardo's own.
It's sloppy and violent and more bite than kiss and Eduardo's mind wants him to shove Sean away and maybe call the police or something, but instead he bites back, wrapping his arms loosely around Sean's neck. They fight for another moment before Sean pulls back and wipes his mouth. He looks about as confused as Eduardo feels, which is to say: very. Eduardo opens his mouth, again, but is once again cut off when Sean turns on his heel and storms off, lost in the stacks with no way of recovery.
Eduardo returns to his browsing. He's forgotten what brought him there in the first place.
Later, when he takes off his jacket, he discovers another slip of paper with an address and time listed on it. He shudders to think that he didn't even notice Sean slip it in.
Eduardo hates being pinned down, so this is okay.
The restaurant is seedier than their last one, and Sean orders him a sensible beer rather than one of those complicated cocktails. Their conversation is just as awkward and stilted as the first time around, but when Eduardo again gets up for the restroom, Sean barely hesitates before following him.
"What is this, Sean?" There's no one in there and the entire place looks vaguely unclean; Eduardo is reminded of the bathrooms of most Harvard dormitories. He's leaning up against the wall and Sean's in the doorway and he doesn't know what brought him here in the first place, except maybe to see how Sean would react.
Sean doesn't answer his question and Eduardo thinks it's because he doesn't know. Instead, Sean walks over to him and presses their bodies together roughly. They aren't kissing but their foreheads are touching, and Eduardo closes his eyes so that he doesn't have to see what Sean's will inevitably tell him.
And then Sean's lips are on his jawline and Eduardo's responding, arching his hips and groaning low, guttural noises that really have no place in any sort of public venue. Before long Sean moves down to attack his collarbone and Eduardo knows that he's going to have marks there soon enough, and he'd like to be able to say that he doesn't care, but he does care, he really actually does.
So it's a relief when Sean pulls away, until Eduardo looks at him and realizes what he's asking by that manic glint in his eye. He's about to balk and run away but instead he slowly turns around and shoves Sean against the wall and drops to his knees.
He barely has time to take Sean into his mouth before Sean's fingers are wrapped tightly in his hair and jerking him upwards, which Eduardo is positive violates some sort of sexual etiquette. He doesn't stop, though, and almost can't; it doesn't take Sean long to work up a rhythm and Eduardo's quickly recalling whatever blow job techniques he has buried away in the corner of his mind.
He doesn't look up at Sean because he doesn't want to, because it's easier to imagine that he's not currently sucking off one of the two men most instrumental in ruining the past few years of his life. He puts his hands on either side of Sean's hips to steady himself, because he's dangerously close to losing balance completely and being completely reliant on Sean to hold him up.
Sean's not aware of any of this. He's thrusting into Eduardo's mouth and tugging and moaning some incoherent stream of babble that Eduardo doesn't care to bother to decode. He'd be pleased to know how little time it takes to get Sean to come, but with his last thrust, he's doing his best to hold Eduardo there with his cock deep in his throat, so Eduardo's gagging and choking and forced to swallow whether he likes it or not.
He pulls away and he's shaking. His face is wet, which is strange, because he doesn't remember crying; it must have happened in the last few moments. For the first time, Eduardo looks up at Sean: he's still standing there, back against the wall, breathing deeply with his cock out for the world to see, like he's still recovering from what Eduardo did to him. Did to him and Eduardo's glad to be able to do something to somebody, for once, even though his mouth tastes like semen and there's some unnamed substance on the knees of his pants.
Sean pays for the bill again. He grabs Eduardo a breath mint on the way out.
Two weeks later, it's a bar, not a restaurant, but Sean's the one on his knees this time. In a way, it's almost cold comfort.
Sean texts him an address and an apartment number and Eduardo doesn't want this. There's nothing wrong with "chance" encounters that happen every once in awhile; somehow, moving them somewhere more private feels too intimate. Eduardo tells him as much and doesn't show up for their next rendezvous because he genuinely doesn't want to. He chooses to stay home and watch a movie instead.
By the evening, Eduardo's hungry and he realizes far too late that his apartment contains nothing but Wheat Thins and Diet Coke and alcohol, which stopped being an acceptable meal around the time he graduated from college. He steps outside of his building and is immediately glad that he remembered his coat and scarf; he is just as immediately annoyed to see that Sean Parker is sitting expectantly outside, thermos in hand.
"You didn't show today." Sean is just studiedly casual enough to let Eduardo know that he's bothered by Eduardo's absence.
"I was busy." Eduardo shrugs and brushes Sean by without another looks and hopes he won't be followed but knows better than to expect it. He still winces when Sean grabs his arm and holds Eduardo tight against him.
"Like hell you have," Sean growls, and he's low and animalistic and Eduardo shudders. "I know you've been in there all afternoon and I know that whatever you did, you did on purpose." Suddenly, he releases Eduardo like he's been burned, then smiles like he's remembering some long-forgotten joke. "This-this is stupid. Do whatever you want. Just let me know next time."
He walks away in the opposite direction. Eduardo stands there for a moment and rubs his arm, then continues on his way to the market on the corner.
Eduardo's on his back in Sean Parker's bed. He should be getting ready for the business meeting he has in forty-five minutes but instead he's got his legs over Sean's shoulders and a warm mouth around his cock, which is more than a fair enough trade-off.
He's finally getting comfortable, finally working up a rhythm, when Sean changes direction and starts on Eduardo's inner thigh. "Sean," he gasps, and he's not even properly ashamed, just hard and digging his fingers into the sheets and ready to get this over with.
Sean doesn't respond but he smiles into Eduardo's skin as he sucks hard enough to leave a mark. Then he's moving downwards and, just, no, Eduardo would rather not go there, but his protest quickly shifts into a wordless whimper as Sean tongues his ass and then he has no real chance at all.
Eduardo's squirming and painfully aware of Sean's every touch, alternately shifting to get away from him and press into his mouth. He wants nothing more than to grab his cock and finish himself off already, but fuck you, that's Sean's job, and if he wanted to jack off he'd do it in the privacy of his own bedroom.
It's not going to be necessary, anyway: before long, Eduardo thinks he's about to come just from this alone and his entire body tenses up to prepare for the climax, which is of course when Sean sits up with a devilish smirk.
"You-fucking-bastard-" Eduardo has no dignity anymore, isn't even aware of the meaning of the word. Sean's slipping his boxers off and Eduardo doesn't even have to see the way he slides the lube over his cock to know what's coming next.
He'd much rather suck Sean off later than deal with this but his legs are spreading obligingly and then: the strange, indescribable pain-pleasure of someone else inside him. Sean rocks into him slowly and ignores Eduardo's outcries of "hurry up" for longer than Eduardo is okay with. His eyes are open but Sean's too close to his face and won't break his gaze; Eduardo shuts his eyes to avoid the blue stare.
And then Sean speeds up and he's not gentle; each thrust is rough and uneven and he's gripping Eduardo's arms hard enough to bruise. Eduardo's pushing back onto him now, trying to get the most out of every touch because he's aching and ready and almost there.
When Sean comes, he breathes Eduardo's name as to be almost be unintelligible. Eduardo just screams wordlessly.
They're lying in bed together because Eduardo's too sore to move and they both need time to recover. Sean's reading something, some cheap paperback with a a cover like a romance novel, but Eduardo's just lying there, steadying out his breaths and wondering how he ended up in this position.
"I talked to Mark the other day." Sean carefully doesn't do anything, just flips to the next page.
Eduardo looks at him for a long moment, thinks that Sean's like a damn book himself. With an effort, he rolls over on his side. He doesn't fall asleep.
Eduardo's out for drinks with a few of the other young guys from work. He's relaxed for the first time in awhile, flirting with the pretty girls sitting just out of reach and trying to ignore the hickey he can feel still throbbing underneath his collar.
"Go get us some more drinks, yeah?" Someone's pressing money into Eduardo's hands and shoving him towards the bar; he's not even sure that he knows this guy's name-David? Jason?-but Eduardo obliges, mentally cataloging the half-empty glasses he sees around him and heading to get them refilled.
The bartender's busy and entertaining the requests of some twenty-something punk is not high on his list of priorities, so Eduardo just stands there, waiting for the sea of flirtatious young women vying for a drink to part.
Someone brushes against him, too deftly to be by accident, and it's Sean, of course, walking by with his arm around some girl who looks barely old enough to be there at all. His eyes lock onto Eduardo's own for a brief second before staring determinedly ahead again. Eduardo doesn't know if it's an invitation or a fuck you, but he thinks he'd be okay with either.
He gets his drinks and brings them back to his friends, but slips away shortly afterwards. He doesn't see Sean for the rest of the night, but the guy who fucks him in the bathroom stall kind of looks like him.
Straddling Sean on the couch, both of them in their underwear but barely done anything yet.
"Wardo, I-"
"Don't call me that."
Eduardo stops answering Sean's texts and calls. He doesn't know why, really; nothing's changed, not that much, except that maybe Eduardo's lost his taste for getting shoved up against a wall and ravished by Sean Parker. Or that he'd rather not be fucking someone who knew him as a Harvard undergraduate; that's not Eduardo anymore-or at least he likes to think that it isn't.
Sean, for his part, takes the cue quickly and graciously, though Eduardo still gets the occasional drunk dial that makes his throat constrict and his vision blur. He doesn't see Sean, though, and that's the important part, the part that lets him continue to go to work and hang out with friends and take walks and read books and browse the internet and sleep at night.
Until Eduardo's out to dinner again, like he always seems to be; his life has become nothing but a series of dates and courtships under the guise of business meetings. He's more relaxed now, more willing to order for himself and smile and talk himself up draw clients in with the persona of the brilliant young upstart.
He's halfway through his dinner and there's Sean, across the room again, no beautiful women sitting across from him. It's been months, probably, something like that, something unfathomable and intangible like that. Eduardo meets his eyes for a moment and looks away easily, his smile never faltering. Sean was never smiling in the first place.