Fic: Just Gonna Get My Feet Wet Until I Drown - Part 2

[justbreathe80]

Tuesday night’s appointment was with Andres. He was a Brazilian businessman, around forty five and hot as hell, whose company ran a branch in the Bay Area that he checked in on every few months. Eduardo saw him every time he came to town.

Tonight, Eduardo strode into the Fairmont (absolutely not thinking about the last time he was there) at nine o’clock, and took the elevator to the ninth floor. His suit was fresh from the dry cleaners, and he felt better than he had in days, like he’d finally gotten his bearings.

Andres opened the door with a big smile on his face, and Eduardo smiled back. Andres was one of his very favorite regulars, because he didn’t beat around the bush. At all.

“Fuck, you are a sight for sore eyes,” Andres said hungrily, reaching out to tug Eduardo into the room. Eduardo always had to will down his own reaction to Andres’ voice, the rhythms of Sao Paolo, the hazy memories of his own childhood. Andres was the closest he got to Brazil on a regular basis, which was both good and bad.

They didn’t talk much, Andres tugging off his clothes, speaking low in Portuguese, right up against Eduardo’s ear, in a way that made him squirm. They always fucked first, then lounged in bed for a while later, sometimes talking, sometimes not, Eduardo allowing himself the few hours to feel the familiar vowels in his mouth.

Andres had him naked fast, and pushed him down onto the bed. “Turn over, querido. Come on.” Eduardo obliged, flipping over, rising to his hands and knees with his palms flat against the headboard. He arched his back just enough to hear Andres curse behind him.

“That’s not fair, you know,” Andres moaned, and Eduardo smiled as he heard the sound of Andres’ zipper, the sound of the condom wrapper. He closed his eyes.

“It’s not supposed to be fair,” he shoots back, coy and keeping his voice steady, even though his whole body was lit up in anticipation.

The blunt head of Andres’ cock (Eduardo always forgot how big he was, always had to breathe through it, calm himself down to take it) pushed against his ass, and he arched his back more, pushing his hips back. “Is this fair?” Andres whispered, leaning closer to Eduardo’s ear, laughing softly.

“God.” Eduardo wanted to have a better comeback, something witty because he knew that Andres liked the banter, the back and forth of it, but it was like everything swirling around his head had been erased like a blackboard, clean and empty. Andres’ fat dick was spreading him open, not nearly as much lube as he could have used, no lead up at all, and it felt incredible. “Fuck me.”

Andres didn’t say anything, just reached out and grabbed Eduardo’s hips, pulling Eduardo down onto his cock, and it was almost too much. His brain was telling him to pull away, to get some space, but his hips were meeting Andres’ thrusts, without his approval. A sound escaped his throat, high and tight, before he could rein it back in.

“You okay?” Andres gritted out, all the way inside, and Eduardo appreciated the sentiment, he really, truly did, but this was not his first rodeo, so to speak.

He turned his head, taking in Andres’ face, the sweat beading on his skin next to his dark hair, the muscles in his stomach taut from holding himself still. “Fuck. Me,” Eduardo said, his voice hard and firm, and Andres smiled.

And he did.

The pace was brutal. Eduardo ducked his head down and bit his lip until he tasted blood, to keep in the whines trying to escape his throat, because he didn’t want it to stop. It felt good, and for the first time in weeks, he wasn’t thinking about anything else but the man behind him, the cock inside of him, and he wanted it to last.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Andres said, his voice hoarse, hands gripping harder at Eduardo’s hips, pulling him back more. Eduardo finally felt relaxed and open enough-the pain edging back just enough but not too much-that he let himself cry out. He knew that Andres liked the sounds he made when they fucked like this. So he let them come.

Eduardo could tell that Andres was close, his rhythm faltering just a bit, his thrusts turning harder, but slower. All the words spoken into Eduardo’s ear now were Portuguese, and Eduardo tried to shut his brain down even more.

He hadn’t even really checked in enough to know how close he was, but when Andres reached around to wrap his hand around Eduardo’s cock, he came instantly, all over the sheets and Andres’ hand. It was like all of his bones had liquefied, and he struggled to stay up on his knees as Andres kept moving inside of him, so close.

“Querido,” Andres shouted, and bore Eduardo down into the bed, pressed on top of him. Eduardo couldn’t breathe, and he was having a hard time caring.

A moment (or an hour, who knew) later, Andres flipped them over onto their sides, curling up against Eduardo’s back. “Olá,” he said against Eduardo’s neck, placing a kiss to the same spot, and Eduardo smiled.

“Hi,” he replied, feeling warm, enveloped, and for the first time in weeks, like himself.

*****

Eduardo rode the high of Tuesday night throughout the day on Wednesday, a day spent grocery shopping around the corner, having coffee at his favorite place a block down from his building, and hitting the gym. He still had a smile on his face on Thursday morning, until he leaned over in bed to look at his book, and remembered that it was Thursday.

Just like that, he felt everything that Andres had literally fucked right out of his head creeping back in, and he had been perfectly happy not to feel like he was going crazy for one day. Now all he could think about was Mark.

Fuck.

Mark had left a message with Sean asking Eduardo to come around seven this week, and that gave him an extra half an hour stuck in rush hour traffic to think about what he was going to do.

Get a grip, he told himself, his hands clenched tight around the steering wheel, his knuckles white. You’re a goddamn professional.

By the time he pulled into Mark’s driveway, glimpsing his house through the trees, he was calmer. Ready to be professional, ready to do his fucking job.

The sound of a car came up behind him as he was getting out of his own, and he turned as he shut the door to see a red Prius pulling in behind him. The door opened and Mark climbed out, seemingly out of breath.

“I got held up at the office-it’s like the universe heard that I was leaving before nine for once and conspired against me.” Mark strode closer to Eduardo, taking a deep breath. He smiled. “Hi. Did you wait long?”

Eduardo took a deep breath of his own, and tried to keep his voice friendly but neutral. “No, just got here. Traffic on the 101.”

Mark nodded, smile fading just a bit, like he sensed the distance that Eduardo was trying to so hard to create. Eduardo followed him up the front walkway and into the house, and then pinned him up against the door as soon as it was shut.

“What-” Mark started, tipping his head back and gasping, and Eduardo was more than willing to press his advantage. The skin right beneath Mark’s jaw was a bit prickly with stubble and Eduardo dragged his lips along his jawline until he latched on right below Mark’s ear. He bracketed Mark’s body against the wooden door with both hands.

Mark laughed, and Eduardo could feel it thrum through his body. “Hi, nice to see you too,” Mark said, voice rough and turned on, picking up his foot and hooking it around the back of Eduardo’s calf.

Eduardo didn’t answer, just pressed in until their bodies were flush against each other, until Mark’s rapidly hardening cock was tucked up against Eduardo’s thigh.

“I thought we could have dinner-” Eduardo cut him off, pressing their mouths together and tracing the firm line of Mark’s lips with his tongue, urging him to open up.

When they finally pulled apart, both panting, Eduardo growled, “Enough talking.”

Mark shuddered against him (Eduardo filed that one away for later: likes to be told what to do). “Fair enough.”

Eduardo licked back into Mark’s mouth, catching Mark’s moans, as he dropped one hand to work open the button on Mark’s jeans. Mark’s cock was hot and hard in Eduardo’s hand, and Eduardo was about to provide yet another one of his specialties.

“Whoa,” Mark said, and Eduardo pressed his involuntary smile into Mark’s neck, stroking him fast and just this side of too hard. “Oh my god.”

“Would you rather stop and have dinner?” Eduardo said teasingly, lips right up against Mark’s ear. Mark’s heel dug harder into his leg.

“Don’t even think about it,” Mark spat out, closing his eyes. “It can wait.”

Eduardo found that hand jobs were less in demand than blow jobs, from a professional standpoint. Probably because a lot of the guys could convince their wives or girlfriends to give them a hand job, but a blow job was a harder sell. Eduardo was equally good at both, however, and the years of practice were clearly working on Mark, who was starting to sag against the door. Eduardo leaned in to hold him up, letting his thumb drag over the slit on the head on the way back down.

“Oh, god,” Mark whimpered, pushing his hips into Eduardo’s fist. Eduardo felt Mark’s body go still an instant before he felt his come hitting his hand, hot and wet. He stroked him through it, closing his teeth around Mark’s ear, just to hear him cry out.

*****

After Mark cleaned up and made a gesture toward Eduardo (“It’s okay, we’ve got all night,” Eduardo had said, clasping his hands around Mark’s and moving them away, avoiding Mark’s eyes), he ordered dinner (“Thai okay this time?” he’d said, digging through the menus, and Eduardo had nodded).

They sat at the island in Mark’s kitchen, and Eduardo knew he should say something. He was getting paid a shitload of money to provide the Total Boyfriend Experience, and part of that was carrying on the conversation. Still, he struggled to force himself to say something, wanting to let Mark fuck him and then just go home.

That would be so much easier.

“So,” Mark said, clearing his throat and setting down his chopsticks. “I wanted to say thanks for meeting with Chris and signing the papers.”

Eduardo sat down his carton of pad thai. “It’s fine. It’s not the first time I’ve had to do that. I have a number of high profile clients.”

He can tell by the way Mark’s face gets a little pinched that he didn’t appreciate the reminder about how many other clients Eduardo has. Or maybe he didn’t like that someone was as high profile as he was. Either way, Mark frowned at Eduardo. “Well, I appreciate it regardless. And I appreciate your willingness to make room for me in your schedule for Saturday.” Mark’s voice was formal, stilted and a bit awkward, and Eduardo sort of hated it.

“It’s not a problem.” Eduardo paused, because he knew he should just let it drop. He should finish his dinner, then drag Mark to bed, fuck until they were both exhausted and passed out, then slip out as soon as he could in the morning. Full service, nothing less, but nothing more.

Eduardo had always thought of himself as pretty smart, with a good survival instinct, but that didn’t stop him from saying, “Can I ask you a question?”

Mark’s face relaxed. “Sure.”

“Why do you want to be seen in public with me? I mean, I know that you haven’t ever publicly dated a man, and I don’t know why you’d want the publicity.”

Mark lifted one chopstick off of the counter, twirling it around between his fingers, not looking up. “I’ve kept my few past relationships with men private. I didn’t want it to interfere with Facebook business.” He looked up, his eyes blue, his stare intense. “As for Saturday, I asked you because I thought it might be nice to go to one of these things with someone for a change. I enjoy your company. And I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks anymore, to be honest.”

Eduardo swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat. He wasn’t sure what to say, and he felt pinned back, like a butterfly in an elementary school science project, by Mark’s eyes. “Okay. Thanks for telling me,” he said softly, and Mark looked back down at his food. Eduardo felt like he could finally breathe.

“Are you finished?” Mark asked.

Eduardo dropped his hand down to the counter, right in front of the pad thai. “Yes.”

“Good.” And then Mark was up, rounding the island and grabbing Eduardo’s hand, dragging him to the bedroom.

*****

Mark pushed Eduardo down on the bed. He sank into the deep, down comforter, locking his eyes with Mark’s, which were all pupil, completely blown.

Eduardo closed his eyes.

When Mark started to bear down against him, hips slotted together, mouths close enough to share breath, Eduardo wanted to give into it. It scared him how much he wanted. He barely knew this man pressed against him-they’d spent a grand total of three evenings together. But he knew how Mark made him feel.

He couldn’t open his eyes. Instead, he flipped over inside of Mark’s arms. “Like this,” he whispered, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, pushing Mark back. “I want you like this.”

Mark hesitated, like he knew that Eduardo wanted it exactly the way it had been going, but he got with the program quickly, pressing himself along Eduardo’s back. “Okay, yeah,” he whispered into Eduardo’s ear, making Eduardo shudder from head to toe.

Maybe it wasn’t going to be any better this way. But he had to try.

Not being able to see Mark’s face, his eyes, as he slicked up his fingers and pressed them against Eduardo’s hole, helped somewhat. He didn’t really need the prep, but Mark’s fingers felt good, pressed close inside of him. The two fingers were a mere fraction of the last thing-- Andres’ huge cock--that had spread him open, but they were still lighting him up. Still making him rock back into them.

“Please, Mark,” Eduardo urged, wanting to feel him, and also wanting to have this over so he could go home and try to gain back some of his equilibrium. He dropped his upper body down onto the bed, his face pressed into the duvet, and reached back to spread himself open. To put himself on display.

“Christ,” Mark groaned, and Eduardo smiled to himself as Mark pulled his fingers free and tore open a condom wrapper. “You want me to fuck you?” Mark’s voice broke on the edge of the statement, and Eduardo lost his own quick retort at the feeling of Mark sliding his dick along the crack of his ass, brushing up against his fingers, pushing just enough to catch the edge of his hole.

“No, I thought we could just hang out,” Eduardo shot back finally, calming himself down, but he heard the tremor in his voice too.

Mark chuckled against his ear. “I think we’re both hanging out.”

Eduardo rolled his eyes. “I hope you’re proud of that one. Now, can you shut up and get to work?”

“I think I can do that,” Mark said, the end of the sentence swallowed up into a groan as he pushed into Eduardo in one long, excruciatingly good stroke. Eduardo had been fucked a lot in his life, by lots of different guys, and Mark certainly didn’t rank at the top of the scale in terms of size of the guys he’d fucked this week, let alone ever.

So there was no real explanation for the way Eduardo felt completely broken open. It wasn’t really the right time to go exploring in his head to try to find one.

Instead, he met Mark’s thrusts with his own hips, letting everything come down to the sounds of skin on skin, each of their harsh breaths, Mark’s filthy words spilling out across Eduardo’s ear, where he was pinned down and couldn’t get away. Mark’s rhythm was merciless, consistent, deep, right on the mark.

Eduardo took his own cock in hand, stroking hard and fast, trying to just relax and take it, to not think so damn much. He couldn’t block out what Mark was saying, though, even though he was trying, even though he was racing toward the finish line to make it stop.

Beautiful, you’re so fucking beautiful, Mark said, among you feel so good, the way you take it and I wish I could come inside of you and I wish I could keep you here.

That was the hardest one to push away, because the truth was, Mark could afford to keep him there. He was keeping him there every Thursday night.

Eduardo’s cock got impossibly hard in his fist, and he clenched down hard on Mark’s cock sliding into him, getting a groan and getting Mark to move faster. He brought himself to the edge as he felt Mark’s rhythm stutter, as he threaded his fingers in Eduardo’s hair, pulling his head to the side to sink his teeth into Eduardo’s neck.

The sharp pain was enough. Eduardo pulled his hand off of his cock, close enough now to ride out his own orgasm on Mark’s dick. “Yeah, please, Mark,” he cried out, and Mark didn’t disappoint.

“Come on, come for me,” he rasped, almost painfully, in Eduardo’s ear, still fucking him, and Eduardo’s vision went blurry before he felt himself squeeze tight around Mark’s length inside of him, spilling out across the rumpled sheets. He let Mark’s fingers in his hair, making his eyes water as he yanked Eduardo’s head around to bite at his lips, thrusting a few more times before coming inside Eduardo, ground him. He was still shaking and clenching around Mark when Mark eased them over onto their sides, not pulling out of Eduardo yet.

Later, he could probably blame it on the orgasm, the way he felt broken and adrift, but at that moment, he was just so damn grateful for that, for Mark staying.

Mark’s trembling fingers had gone gentle on Eduardo’s scalp, petting him almost. “That was-” Mark started, but Eduardo didn’t want to hear what he had to say. He somehow knew it was very important that he didn’t hear it. So he turned his face and pressed his mouth to Mark’s, kissing him and kissing him.

*****

Saturday evening, and Eduardo was pulling his tux from its bag in the closet, smoothing out some barely there wrinkles with the pads of his fingers. The car was coming to get him at nine, so he still had some time to get dressed, do his hair. To wait.

He’d managed to get out of Mark’s pretty cleanly on Thursday, both of them passing out after the spectacular fuck. Mark woke him at seven on Friday morning with fingertips pressed along his neck, barely there, and a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“I have to go,” Mark whispered, and Eduardo allowed himself one brief moment to turn his face into the pillow, pinning Mark’s hand. Then he opened his eyes. Mark was smiling at him. “We’re doing an upgrade this morning. Sorry.”

Eduardo pushed himself up on his hands, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, sorry to feel Mark’s hand drop away.

“I’ll see you Saturday though.” Mark pulled on his hoodie, which had been lying on the floor.

Eduardo swung his legs around to the floor and stood up. “Just give me a second to throw on my clothes and I’ll walk out with you, okay?

At their cars, Eduardo was almost convinced that Mark wanted to kiss him goodbye, wish him a good day, as they awkwardly stepped around each other. Mark finally put a stop to it and clasped Eduardo’s biceps. “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Eduardo agreed, and took off.

Friday night’s client was the magazine editor again, but this time they just stayed in and had sex in the california king in the hotel. He was handsome and a good fuck, part of why Eduardo never made excuses when he called Sean for an appointment-fifteen years older than Eduardo, very experienced, and he knew every damn trick in the book.

Well, almost as many as Eduardo did, anyway.

Their sex was technically flawless, and Eduardo really liked him as a person. They had intelligent discussions and were physically compatible. Eduardo left around one in the morning and went home to sleep soundly.

He went for a five mile run in the middle of the day on Saturday, and picked up his tux from the dry cleaner on the way home.

He had an hour to kill before he really needed to get dressed. He’d already taken a shower--he could do his hair, but even he couldn’t take up an hour doing his hair.

Fuck. He needed to chill out.

Taking a deep breath, he left his tux where it hung in the closet and made his way to the living room, throwing himself down onto the couch and grabbing his laptop off the coffee table. He thought idly about signing onto Facebook, but thought that probably wouldn’t help with the distraction, so he signed into Gmail instead.

Eduardo had a very small number of acquaintances, escorts who he had met over the years. They didn’t really do any normal friend things, but he exchanged e-mails with them sometimes or texts, and occasionally met up for drinks when they didn’t have clients. They exchanged war stories as only they could, but they didn’t exactly have regular schedules.

When he logged into his e-mail, he saw Christy Lee’s name staring at him from the address list. He hadn’t seen Christy in a while-maybe a year, or more-but he’d been thinking about her a lot lately. It wouldn’t be that strange to just drop her a line, say hi, right?

Before he could talk himself out of it, he opened a new e-mail and started writing.

Hi!

I know that it’s been forever. Sorry I haven’t been in touch much-I’m sure we’ve both been very busy! Are you still working for Peter? If so, give him my regards.

I’ve been thinking about you lately, and wanted to let you know that I still remember the advice you gave me when I was first starting out. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, actually, and doing my best to try to follow it.

I hope you’re doing well, and we should catch up sometime soon.

E

He paused for one minute before sending it, but he felt the weight off of his shoulders just from writing it.

Eduardo took a few minutes to check in on his investment portfolios, which were doing very well (and were going to be what kept him from needing a job ever again after this one), then heard the ping of an e-mail coming in.

It was from Christy.

Baby! So good to hear from you, but that was an ominous message. Who’s the guy? Meet me tomorrow for a drink, bitch!

He didn’t know what he would say to Christy’s inevitable questions, and he was a bit afraid of what would come out if he started talking about the situation. But he knew that he needed to hash this out with someone, and Christy would tell him exactly what he should do. Hopefully she’d help him get his head on straight.

Absolutely. Name the time and place, I’ll be there.

*****

A Lincoln Town Car pulled up to the front of Eduardo’s building at exactly nine, black and sleek at the curb, and Eduardo took a deep breath, smoothed down the front of his tux, and let the driver open the door for him.

It was a beautiful, mild San Francisco night, the lights sparkling up and down the hills, and a short drive to the Omni. When they pulled up in front of the hotel (familiar, as Eduardo had had occasion to be a number of times before), someone was standing under the awning, in an absolutely exquisite tux, hands clasped in front of him and waiting. Then that very man quirked up his mouth, familiar and enough to make Eduardo smile back through the tinted windows, and opened Eduardo’s door.

He blinked a couple of times, just to make sure that this was really Mark.

He looked-“Wow.”

Mark held out his hand and Eduardo reached up to take it, letting Mark help him out of the car. “I do clean up occasionally, you know,” Mark said, still smiling.

Intellectually, Eduardo understood that Mark was a businessman, that he came to events like this all the time. That he would own his tux, that it would be designer and expensive and really fucking beautiful made all the sense in the world. Except it was hard to reconcile this Mark with the Mark he knew from inside his house-bare feet and soft, washed out t-shirts and warm skin.

This Mark was wearing dress shoes. Damn. Eduardo swallowed hard, and tried not to ask Mark if he’d gotten them a room.

“You look incredible,” Eduardo said, his voice hoarse and giving himself away completely. He could always play it off as part of the Total Boyfriend Experience, that he would pretend to get hot for Mark like this.

Mark rested his hand on the small of Eduardo’s back, to guide him toward the door. “Thanks,” he said softly, turning his head toward Eduardo, creating their own private space. “So do you, but that’s not a surprise.”

Eduardo smiled, then stopped in his tracks. He had forgotten something important that he had to do.

He pulled reluctantly away from Mark’s hand, and turned to face him, extending his hand toward Mark.

“What-” Mark started, looking at Eduardo like he was maybe losing his mind. Which probably wasn’t so far off the mark.

“It’s Mark, right? It’s a pleasure,” Eduardo said formally, and he waited a beat before gesturing at Mark’s hand with his head until Mark caught a clue and clasped Eduardo’s palm.

“Uh, sure, nice to meet you too, can we go in now?” Mark said impatiently, still holding onto Eduardo’s hand.

“Don’t you want to know my name? It’s only proper.”

Mark’s mouth fell open, just enough to make Eduardo grin. “Seriously?”

“We can skip it if you want,” Eduardo said, starting to pull his hand away, but Mark held on tight to keep him there. “Stick with Miami.”

Mark’s gaze was intense, and his hand was warm and firm, solid, in Eduardo’s grip. “No. No way.”

Eduardo took a tiny step closer, not letting go of Mark, and just aware of the buzzing of arrivals around them. “Eduardo.”

Mark blinked, then seemed to recover. “Eduardo. Would you care to go inside?”

“I’d love to,” Eduardo answered, and Mark squeezed his hand before letting go, breaking their connection, their moment, and placing his hand back on Eduardo’s back, warm through the layers of his suit. Mark nodded at the doorman as they entered the lobby.

Mark guided Eduardo through the door of the room marked Bay Area Educational Collaborative Annual Gala (Eduardo had Googled the hell out of the event-it was an occupational hazard to go into something like this unprepared). Eduardo immediately recognized faces in the room from other events he’d attended over the years, a couple of men who did quick double takes and recovered quickly upon seeing Eduardo. He might worry that one of these guys would sell Mark out, but he knew how important discretion was for his clients and how scared they were to be outed, most of the time.

“So, I have to make a quick speech thing before the dinner starts,” Mark said. He ducked his head a bit, and Eduardo smiled helplessly. He sort of hated himself for how cute he thought that was.

Eduardo bumped his hip against Mark’s. “Well, aren’t you the big deal.”

“Of course.” Mark pursed his lips, but Eduardo had spent enough time with him at this point to see the playfulness behind it. “Are you-”

Mark was cut off mid-sentence by a black and white flurry that barreled toward them from across the room. “Marky, thank god you’re here. I’ve been stuck talking to the CEO of Oracle for the last ten minutes, and god, old people are so boring.” The flurry, who turned out to be a dark-haired guy about the same height as Mark and wearing an ill-fitting tux, turned on Eduardo.

“Hi, I’m Dustin-” and right, Dustin Moskowitz, of course, “and you are some guy who Mark has his arm around?”

“Eduardo Saverin,” he said, smiling and sticking out his hand, “Mark’s date.”

Dustin’s eyes widened comically, nearly dropping his glass of champagne. Eduardo figured out at that point that Chris must be really good at his job and that he took confidentiality seriously, because if Dustin had heard about Mark’s gay hooker, Eduardo would eat his six hundred dollar shoes. “Mark, is there something you need to tell me?”

“Not really,” Mark said, sounding bored almost, and Eduardo laughed.

Dustin nearly dropped the glass, but recovered nicely. “So, as far as you’re concerned, everything here is just as normal as it can be.”

“Yes.”

“Right. Because you totally pick up guys this hot every day. Absolutely.” Dustin took a big gulp of his champagne, stretching out his arm to place the empty glass on the tray that was being carried past at that moment, then stuck his hand out. “Eduardo, it’s nice to meet you. I hope you know what you’re in for, and I hope for your sake that Chris gets sick tonight.”

Eduardo reached out to shake Dustin’s hand, at the same time that Mark said, “Chris already knows.”

Dustin dropped Eduardo’s hand like it was burning and groaned. “How am I the last to know this?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dustin,” Eduardo said, still smiling. He watched Dustin’s gaping mouth in the face of Mark’s flat stare.

“Yes, Eduardo, a pleasure,” Dustin said, before he reached over to smack Mark on the shoulder. “Asshole. Not you, I mean, well, you if you’re Mark Zuckerberg.”

Mark cleared his throat. “I have to go,” he said, clenching his fingers almost too tightly against Eduardo’s waist, pulling him closer. “Dustin, don’t make Eduardo want to leave, okay?”

Dustin clapped his hand against his chest. “I would do no such thing,” he said, indignant, “I’m the perfect gentleman.”

Eduardo made conversation with Dustin, who was actually kind of hilarious, if completely spastic, until it became clear that it was time to follow the crowd to the dining room. Eduardo took his seat next to Dustin, and Chris was already there. Eduardo smiled at him, and Chris raised his glass.

“You’re lucky Mark’s about to talk, or I’d kill you, Chris Hughes,” Dustin spat under his breath. Chris kicked Dustin under the table. “Ow!”

“Good evening,” a beautiful woman in drop-dead gorgeous red dress that set off her dark skin perfectly said, and the room quieted down. “Thank you all so much for coming this evening. Without any further ado, I want to move right along to our keynote speaker, so that we can get to main event: tonight’s fabulous dinner.” Polite laughter filled the room. “I’d like to introduce you all to Mark Zuckerberg, CEO and Founder of Facebook. I probably don’t have to explain the significance of his contributions to social media, or his incredible success for his young age. I will say that he has been one of the strongest supporters of educational initiatives in the Bay Area, and I know that we at BAEC hope to continue our partnership with him for many years. Now, here’s the man himself, to say a few words. Mark?”

The room erupted into applause, and Eduardo sat back to watch as Mark took the dais and adjusted the microphone. “Uh, good evening, everyone. It’s my sincere pleasure to have been asked to speak here tonight on behalf of such an extraordinary organization.” He looked out into the audience, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Eduardo couldn’t look away. He’d always been attracted to the certainty with which Mark did almost everything, the confidence behind all of his moves, but he was also socially awkward in his personal interactions in a way that didn’t fit together with the man up there, speaking to this room full of people.

Mark had his hands pressed flat against the podium and he spoke without hesitation, outlining the challenges in education and the work the organization had undertaken on behalf of low-income students in under-resourced schools and his own pledge to donate a really astronomical amount of money to continue the great work they were doing. He has the attention of every person in the room, including Eduardo, and every time they locked eyes, Eduardo felt his stomach drop, like he was falling out of an airplane at thirty thousand feet.

Then Mark wrapped up graciously (Christ, he was almost charming), leaving the stage to a hearty round of applause. If you asked Eduardo later, he would say that he couldn’t remember what happened at that moment when Mark lowered himself into the chair next to Eduardo’s. He’d say that he was distracted by the noise in the room, or that he’d had too much to drink (he’d had one glass of red wine).

All he knew was that, as soon as Mark sat down, Eduardo put down his drink purposefully, turned to Mark, took his face between his hands, and kissed him in front of every important person in the Bay Area.

When he finally pulled away, put distance between himself and Mark’s mouth (which was harder than he thought it would be), awareness of their surroundings rushed into the space between them. Eduardo could feel the heat of flashbulbs on the side of his face, he could hear Dustin’s wolf whistle, and he could see the surprise barely contained in Mark’s expression.

Shit.

This was really, really bad. Possibly epically bad. For more than one reason.

“What was that?” Mark said softly, enough for just Eduardo to hear, still looking startled.

Eduardo’s throat was dry, but he couldn’t make himself move. “Sorry,” he croaked out. “I don’t know.”

“I’m not-” Mark started, leaning forward to clasp his hand around Eduardo’s knee, but he was interrupted by Dustin bounding over to clap them both on the back.

“Well, Mark, you really know how to make people talk,” he said, beaming at both of them. “Kim from Valleywag was snapping pictures and typing on her phone like the world was ending, and you know how much they already hate you.” Chris came over, giving Eduardo a look that he couldn’t quite read, but probably meant something like thanks for making this really fucking complicated for me, and dragged Dustin away as he protested.

Awesome. It’s not that he hadn’t had his picture taken before, after years of attending public events with men all over the country, and he even had a story (Eduardo Saverin, junior hedge fund manager from New York/Los Angeles/Chicago/wherever-he-wasn’t, very charming, please don’t dig into this too much, thanks) to tell if people asked who he was. It wasn’t that being seen was the problem. There was an art to what he did. He tried to blend in, make casual, intelligent conversation, stick close by the arm of whoever he came with, touch just enough to be believable, but ultimately to be the person that no one could quite remember at the end of the night.

He’d managed to blow that one right out of the water before he’d even gotten a chance to talk to anyone else but those at the table.

Mark still hadn’t looked away from Eduardo. “Shit. It will be online in an hour, at the outside.”

“It’s my fault,” Eduardo said, letting himself sell it, lean forward and kiss the corner of Mark’s mouth. He was saving face the best he knew how. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care what those assholes say about me,” Mark replied, but clutching Eduardo’s knee in a way that made it hard to believe. “Are you okay?”

Eduardo laughed and pushed his fingers into his hair. “I’m good.” He leaned in again, pressing his lips against Mark’s ear, feeling him shiver. He took a deep breath to tamp down his own reaction, and calm down his pounding heart. “Now let’s go make this look convincing.”
Mark didn’t look all that happy when Eduardo pulled away, but he nodded, mouth in a hard line, so far away from the open, soft way it had looked when Eduardo had broken their kiss. Eduardo wanted so much to be alone, back in Mark’s bedroom, in the Fairmont, anywhere but here. But he had a job to do, and that job tonight was to be Mark’s date-his fake boyfriend--and turn his stupid move into a positive.

Eduardo stood up, holding out his hand in front of Mark. “Shall we?”

Mark was silent, but his hand was warm folded in Eduardo’s palm. Eduardo tugged, and Mark followed, into the crowd, which closed around them.

*****

It felt like his tie was choking him as Mark keyed into the room, and Eduardo tugged at his neck until the knot came loose, leaving it hanging around his neck.

“So, that went well,” Eduardo said sarcastically, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of an overstuffed chair.

“Sure,” Mark said, toeing off his dress shoes a bit roughly, which had lost some of their shine, but still looked almost heartbreakingly good on. He had his back to Eduardo, his shoulders hunched. “Started off with me having to give a speech, which is definitely not my favorite way to spend a Saturday evening, and ended with you kissing me and sending the Silicon Valley rumor mill into an uproar. All in all, a successful night, wouldn’t you say?”

Eduardo didn’t know how to respond to that. In fact, he was having a hard time knowing what to do at all as Mark handed him his iPhone, the Valleywag site up on screen with their picture (the two of them leaning in close, Eduardo selling it like crazy) and the caption Mark Zuckerberg steps out with mysterious guy, makes scene at BAEC Annual Gala

He handed the phone back to Mark after perfunctorily scanning through the article, which called him hot (which was nice) and exotic (which was a bit racist), and openly speculated on who the hell Eduardo was and how Mark had managed to land him, and, oh, did we mention Mark Zuckerberg attended a public event with a man?

A notification sounded on Mark’s phone, just as Eduardo thought to dig out his own. Thankfully, he’d left his personal cell phone at home, because he couldn’t only imagine if anyone in his family had caught wind of this. As it was, he had a text message waiting from Sean, who seemed less than thrilled.

Eduardo, you know that you’re my favorite employee and Zuckerberg is paying both of us crazy money for this, but I feel the need to remind you that YOU ARE NOT HIS ACTUALFAX BOYFRIEND. Kissing him like that at a public event probs not best for career longevity. Lay low, call on Monday.

Eduardo groaned, tossing the phone just a bit too hard onto the table near the door. He half-heartedly hoped he hadn’t broken it. He reached up to run his fingers through his hair, breaking apart the gel he’d so carefully applied earlier in the evening. That seemed like a hundred years ago.

Mark had shed his own jacket and was headed for couch. Eduardo took a deep breath. “Listen, about tonight. I’m sorry.”

Mark didn’t answer him right away, which was pretty unusual-usually, it was like Mark knew what Eduardo was going to say before he finished saying it, he was so fast on the uptake. The silence stretched out for a few moments as Eduardo stood awkwardly next to the couch.

“Eduardo,” Mark said steadily, and Eduardo swallowed down the thrill of hearing his name in Mark’s mouth, “don’t apologize to me. It’s fine. I told you, I don’t care what they say.”

Slumping down on the couch next to Mark, several feet of distance between them, Eduardo said softly, “Maybe I care.”

“What does that mean?” Mark shot back, sitting forward. “You’re the one who kissed me!”

“I know!” Eduardo said, louder than he’d expected he would, watching Mark flinch, barely noticeably. He started again, more softly this time. “I know, I know, I don’t know why I did it, and I probably fucked my career in the process.” He wanted to say, I can’t fucking think around you, Mark. I do every stupid thing when it comes to you, and I might lose everything because of it.

Mark crossed his arms, and laughed. “Your career? Seriously?”

It was as if everything in the room froze, Eduardo’s blood running cold. “What did you just say?” he said, each word punctuated with anger. Because he could hear what Mark was trying to say in his tone.

Mark’s eyes went wide and he unfolded, reaching out toward Eduardo and then stopping, like he’d thought better of it. “I’m sorry. That was cruel, and I shouldn’t have said it. I’m just--”

“Just what?”

“I’m just confused, Eduardo. And I hate that you have to do this.”

Eduardo sighed and inched closer, wanting to get back that sharp, cutting edge of anger, but having such a hard time holding onto it in the face of Mark like this. His gaze was full of pity, for sure, but it was also colored with something like genuine care, and Eduardo didn’t know what to do with it.

“Mark,” Eduardo said softly. “I’m not a victim. I don’t have to do anything.”

Mark looked him in the eyes, steady, unwavering. “Then I wish you wouldn’t.”

Eduardo closed his eyes, keeping his fingers curled into fists at his sides. He couldn’t afford to acknowledge the aching in his chest, not after his stupid fuck-up that night. It was fine to enjoy Mark’s company, to enjoy their sexual relationship, and take his money and be satisfied with that. It was not fine to want to be what Mark seemed to want. Because it was all built on something fake, on wireless transfers of money between bank accounts, and a pimp who made all of the appointments.

It wasn’t real. Even though Eduardo’s heart, coming back to life for the first time in so long, for the first time ever, maybe, wanted him to believe something else.

“I know you do. But it’s who I am.”

Mark narrowed his eyes and frowned. “It’s not who you are, it’s just what you do.”

“Okay,” Eduardo said, putting his hands up in surrender, letting his thigh fall against Mark’s, less than subtle. “I don’t really want to talk about this anymore.”

Mark rolled his eyes, but reached out to tug Eduardo into his lap. “Nice move, changing the subject,” he said, pushing his hips up against Eduardo’s, making them both gasp.

“That’s what you pay me for. And besides, you look so good in that tux-I’ve been thinking about this all night.”

“Somehow, I don’t actually believe that. But I suppose that’s what I’m paying for, too.” And something about the way he said that made Eduardo smile, because there was nothing malicious or proprietary behind it at all.

Eduardo leaned down and let his lips brush against Mark’s, just barely, and then said, “Trust me, the money has nothing to do with it.”

*****

Mark didn’t make a lot of mistakes in life, it seemed, if his career success was anything to go by, and that seemed to extend right into his sex life, because Eduardo had never had someone make him feel exactly this way before. Like nothing else mattered but the space between them, the firm touch of Mark’s hands.

When Eduardo kissed him, licking across the seam of Mark’s lips and opening him up with a groan, Mark flipped them both over on the couch, almost taking Eduardo’s breath away when he landed on his back. Mark didn’t break the kiss, just pushed one hand into the back of Eduardo’s hair, and another down between them to work on Eduardo’s belt. He had it undone in record time and yanked on Eduardo’s pants and underwear.

“Fuck,” Eduardo gasped, as Mark wrapped his hand tightly around Eduardo’s cock, stroking him almost roughly but so, so good, and pulling away from Eduardo’s mouth, breathing heavily.

“God, I wanted to fuck you all night,” Mark said breathlessly, not losing any of his rhythm.

Eduardo tried to spread his legs, but his pants were keeping them closed. He tried to lift his ass and kick the pants down his legs some, but with no success. He closed his eyes and laughed. “All night?”

Mark mouthed at Eduardo’s neck. “Since you got out of the car,” he whispered into Eduardo’s ear, making him shudder.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Eduardo said, getting himself coordinated enough to plant both hands against Mark’s chest and push. “There are condoms and lube inside my jacket.”

Mark raised his eyebrows, his hair a mess and his lips swollen and red, and Eduardo shrugged. “Such a boy scout.”

“Occupational necessity.” Mark shook his head and stood up, his erection straining the front of his black suit pants. Eduardo took the opportunity to shed his pants and kick one leg up over the back of the couch.

He thought Mark was going to choke when he got back, having lost his own jacket and tie and clutching a condom and the tube of lube. “Jesus. Look at you.”

“Enough talking, come here.”

Mark didn’t even take his pants all the way off, just undid his belt and unzipped, dealing with the condom and lube quickly, then pushing into Eduardo with no prep at all. He hitched Eduardo’s legs up around his hips and gave him no time to adjust.

Eduardo could hear himself making noises, but it was like everything narrowed down to the way Mark was splitting him open, making him take it, letting Mark in.

He could also hear Mark, far away and like he was underwater, just repeating Eduardo in his ear, over and over.

Eduardo tried to clear his head, like some sort of strange meditation, to think of nothing but the way his body felt, the way Mark slid in and out, the deep, intense pleasure and pain of it. And for a moment, right before his orgasm came screaming up from inside of him, making him dig his heels into Mark’s lower back and cry out, there was nothing but this.

He wrapped himself around Mark, riding out the waves crashing though him, panting, and felt Mark keep moving in him, Mark’s heartfelt groan when he finally went still and came. Eduardo dragged his shaky hand from Mark’s back and pushed it into Mark’s sweaty curls, pulling him closer.

And if he thought, fleetingly, that he could stay right there, forever, well-that was only for him to know.

*****

It was clear from his first client on Monday (not a regular) that Sean was looking to punish him for Saturday and the whole Valleywag fiasco. Monday’s client was Jim, a fifty-something married guy who wanted Eduardo to ride him around the hotel room like a horse, with a bit and saddle.

He tried really hard not to judge anyone’s fantasies, what turned them on, but he couldn’t really deal with the people who wanted to act like babies or animals. He did his best, but there was a reason they had specialties. And there were other guys who worked for Sean who were great at that kind of thing.

Then Tuesday, for a nice double-header, he had toenail guy again in the early evening, and later a guy who wanted to rub his dick between Eduardo’s thighs for an hour before thanking Eduardo and essentially kicking him out.

Okay, I get it, you’re pissed. Eduardo texted to Sean as he rode a cab back home on Tuesday night. I know I fucked up, okay? You don’t need to punish me. He didn’t hear back, but there also were no new, special appointments coming in, so Eduardo guessed the message was received.

Wednesday was a day off (thank God), and Eduardo made plans with Christy. After the past few weeks, he hoped that she could help ground him, help him get past whatever the hell was going on in his head (with Mark, his brain helpfully provided).

When he arrived at the coffee shop, he found Christy at a table already, smiling widely and waving. He raised his hand and smiled back, negotiating the tightly packed tables.

“Shit, you look incredible!” Christy exclaimed, making heads turn as she jumped up to wrap her arms around Eduardo’s neck, pulling him in close. It felt good to touch someone without thinking about money, to have someone not want anything but this.

“So do you, baby,” Eduardo said, laughing, as they took their seats. “It’s been way too long.”

Then (and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it the second he walked in-it was like a fucking satellite), he noticed, as he looked down at Christy’s hands folded on the table, that she was wearing a huge diamond on her left ring finger.

“I always knew you were observant. That’s why you’re so good in the business,” Christy said quietly, still smiling, and Eduardo noticed that she looked really, truly happy. He barely recognized her.

“You’re getting married?” He could hit himself, hearing the incredulity in his own voice. What a stupid thing to say. “I mean, congratulations, oh my god!”

Christy rolled her eyes at him and reached out to grasp his hand. “Thanks, babe. Good save there, too.”

“Sorry, I just-”

“No, I understand, totally. It’s a shock.”

Eduardo squeezed her hand, looking down at the beautiful ring, and back up at her glowing face. “I’m an asshole. Now, tell me the story.”

“It’s such a cliché,” Christy groaned, leaning in closer. “He was a client.”

“Violating your own code, huh?”

“I know! I just-I walked into that hotel room, just another client at another appointment, and I can still remember when he opened the door. I remember thinking, ‘Christy, just get a grip. He’s just another guy.’ And that worked for the rest of the night. Until it was time to leave, and he asked if he could have my number. And I gave it to him.”

“Jesus.”

“I know. Breaking my own rules, right? I don’t know why I did it-at the time it just seemed to make sense. And then he called me and wanted to take me to dinner, and told me that my job didn’t matter to him, but that he knew we had a connection. I couldn’t deny it, but I also knew that I couldn’t keep doing this and be with him. That only works on tv shows.” Christy giggled, because they both knew what show they were both talking about. “Well, it worked for a while, anyway.”

Eduardo didn’t even know what to say. This was the last thing he’d expected when he’d made plans with Christy. In fact, he’d expected the opposite: for Christy to give him the stern lecture about separation of work and feelings and protecting your heart that he so desperately needed.

He had no idea what to do now.

“Congratulations. Really and truly,” he said, still gripping her hand tight. “You look so happy.”

Christy beamed even wider, if that was possible. “I know, it’s disgusting. I gross myself out.” She paused, looking right into Eduardo’s eyes, and then her brow creased. “Okay, spill. What’s going on with you?”

“Ugh,” Eduardo groaned, dropping his head down onto the table, making Christy’s coffee mug jump and slosh onto the surface. “It’s a mess.” And then he told her about Mark, about their regular Thursdays, about the NDA, about Saturday and telling Mark his real name and Valleywag and everything. And even about how Mark made him feel, about how he had to remind himself constantly when Mark was near him, smirking at him and touching him and just generally getting under Eduardo’s skin, that it wasn’t real. They’d known each other for a grand total of a month, but Eduardo couldn’t remember what it had been like before, not really.

When he was done, he sat up. Christy looked at him softly, threading her fingers with his.

“Eduardo, you deserve to be happy, you know.”

Eduardo took a deep breath, and let it out. “I know.”

“Do you?”

He didn’t know how to answer that. He knew that if he started trying to answer that, everything would cave in around him. He wasn’t sure if that would be the best thing that ever happened to him, or the very worst.

“Can I get you a refill?” he said desperately, reaching out to grab Christy’s half-full cup. Christy sighed and let go of his hand, her eyes still searching. It was like he couldn’t get away from the table fast enough.

*****

Eduardo was a half an hour late to Mark’s on Thursday night. When he pulled into the driveway, Mark was standing on the front stoop, hands shoved into the pockets of his khaki cargo shorts. Eduardo didn’t look down, because he knew that Mark didn’t have any shoes on, and he was smart enough to know how on edge he was already.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, walking up to Mark. “Traffic was a bitch.” When the truth was, he’d spent forty five minutes sitting in his car with the engine turned off, outside of his apartment building, trying to keep himself from banging his head against the steering wheel.

Trying to convince himself to go, to shake everything off and just get over whatever this was, because it was work, damn it.

He wished he could figure out what was going on. Why everything had been just fine for the last five years, and why, this time, things were different.

Finally, he’d slammed his fist down on the steering wheel, honking the horn and startling himself (and the elderly woman crossing the street in front of him). “Get a fucking grip, Saverin,” he muttered to himself, and threw the car into gear.

Mark gave him a skeptical look, like he could tell that Eduardo was the kind of person who made a point to always be on time. To everything. But then he shrugged and turned around, leading Eduardo into the house.

That Thursday was video games (Eduardo considered picking up a Playstation for practice over the weekend, because Mark was kicking his ass) and pizza and Eduardo blowing Mark, on his knees on the living room floor, Mark’s fingers tangled in his hair. And after he got home that night (Mark had an early flight to a tech conference in Tokyo the next morning), he logged into his bank account to watch the three thousand dollar transfer from Sean credit to his account. So that he couldn’t forget.

The next Thursday was Chinese, Star Wars (A New Hope, because Mark wanted to go in order, and it was ludicrous to acknowledge that there was anything that came before that), and Mark bending Eduardo over the side of his bed, Eduardo laughing at Mark’s tirade against George Lucas as Mark pushed inside of him.

And the next one was Mark pressing Eduardo against the heavy wood door, dropping to his knees and tugging at Eduardo’s belt before Eduardo could even say hello.

The following morning, he kept driving past the city, all the way up to Marin, until he reached Point Reyes. He walked along the water, the sea air making his clothes stiff (his dry cleaner would have a fit when she saw his suit) and whipping his hair around, stinging his eyes, and tried hard, so hard, to stop thinking. Because he could still feel the barely there press of Mark’s fingertips, sliding up the ridge of Eduardo’s spine, the way he pushed Eduardo’s hair back from his forehead and smiled at him after they climbed in bed.

He was losing his mind.

Then, like a blessing, Sean called on Friday morning.

“Wardo! I have great news!”

“Hi, Sean,” Eduardo replied wearily, pulling the blankets up around him, guarding against the chilly morning air.

“Sorry, I forgot what a bitch you can be in the mornings. Anyway, your friend Andres called me yesterday and made an offer that I think you won’t be able to refuse.”

“He wants to take me far, far away from my evil pimp?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Sean said. “He actually wants you to come and stay with him in São Paulo for three weeks. He wants you to come down next Sunday. Doesn’t sound like it requires any public appearances, which is probably a blessing after your last outing. I think he just wants you to go down there and fuck him in the tropical heat for three weeks. For seventy five thousand dollars.”

Eduardo closed his eyes, and debated whether or not he wanted to pull the blankets up over his head. He hated how good that sounded, to get the hell out of the city for a few weeks (to get away from Mark, his traitorous brain helpfully provided), to be in his city again, speak nothing but Portuguese for days (when it wasn’t about his father). To be with Andres, who made everything so simple, so black and white. Not to mention the money.

“Eduardo? Is this a hard decision? Because if you don’t want to go, I’ll seriously consider it.”

“No, no, I’ll go,” he said, pushing the blankets off of himself, kicking them to the end of the bed. “Tell him I’ll be there, and text me the details.”

“Do you want me to cancel your appointments for the next few weeks?”

Shit. Right. “Yes. I mean, yes, everyone except Mark. I’ll tell him.”

“Right, your boyfriend,” Sean said playfully. “Of course, I got it.”

“Fuck off, Sean,” Eduardo shot back. He normally tried to have a deeper well of patience for Sean, but he wasn’t in the mood.

“I’ll pretend that you just told me you loved me. Peace out.”

Eduardo hung up the phone without saying anything else, and put the phone back down on the nightstand. He thought about getting up, putting on his shorts and t-shirt, going for a run, but instead he reached down and pulled the blankets back up, burrowing into the bed, closing his eyes and trying his very best to shut out the world for a little while. The trip to Brazil was very welcome for many reasons, and he tried to focus on that until he drifted back to sleep.

Part 3