Inevitable
TITLE: Inevitable
AUTHOR: Sarah (Slashyelizabeth)
PAIRING: Mark/Eduardo
RATING: PG-13/R
SUMMARY: Eduardo realizes some things will never change
DISCLAIMER: This is SO not true. I lay no claim to neither the real Zuckerberg and Saverin nor the Eisenberg/Garfield incarnations.
WORD COUNT: 1,034
NOTES: Inspired by the press conference at Facebook headquarters earlier today. Possible sequel if anyone is interested.
It all happens because Eduardo’s lunch date cancels on him. He’s not that surprised; he’d already canceled twice on her, so he probably deserves to have her bail on him. Instead of sticking around at the way-too-expensive restaurant he decides to grab a latte from Starbucks and head back to the office.
Obviously his assistant wasn’t expecting him to return, since everyone who knows Eduardo knows that mentioning Mark Zuckerberg is a bad idea. Paulette doesn’t mention Mark, but she doesn’t have to. Eduardo’s beloved long-term assistant is staring at her computer and a very familiar voice is coming from the speakers.
“It will be very simple to get an email address through Facebook…”
Eduardo trips over his own feet and gets hot coffee all over his Armani pants. “Fuck!”
“Eduardo!” Paulette whirls around and tries to minimize the window and mute Mark Zuckerberg. “I thought you were at lunch!”
“There was a conflict. Hey, you can watch the press conference or whatever it is. I won’t jump out a window just because I hear Mark talking.” The fact that he then rushes into his office and closes the door belies his statement. He changes his pants and then sits down in front of his desk. He searches for the livestream and finds it quickly enough. Mark is answering questions, looking for all the world like he’d rather be coding instead of explaining things that he thinks a four-year-old should be able to understand.
He looks good. Eduardo has to admit that. He’s wearing sneakers instead of flip-flops, and there’s no hoodie, but the hair is a mess and it makes Eduardo laugh. Mark could never be bothered to conform to anyone’s grooming standards even if he knew he’d be doing public speaking. Actually, Eduardo wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why his curls are un-brushed: a nice Fuck You to the establishment.
The stream goes on for another fifteen minutes. When it ends Eduardo finds he has his cell phone in his hand and a sad smile on his face. He dials a number he hopes is still in service.
“Dustin? Hey, it’s Wardo. No seriously, it is me. I need a favor.”
* * *
Mark answers on the fifth ring.
“Whoever this is better have a really good reason for interrupting my coding session and Chinese food dinner.”
“Hello to you, too.”
Mark makes a noise that’s like a squawk and Eduardo jerks the receiver away from his ear. “What the fuck? How did you get this number?”
“What, no ‘nice to hear from you Wardo’?”
“Seriously, how did you get this number?”
“I have blackmail material on Dustin.”
Neither one says anything for a full minute. Then, “Eduardo, what do you want?”
“You’re calling me Eduardo now?”
“I didn’t think we were on familiar terms anymore.”
“I watched the press conference.”
“Good for you.”
Eduardo pinches the bridge of his nose and reclines on the couch in his office. “I noticed you didn’t bother brushing your hair.”
“Not everyone can be suave like you. What are you wearing?”
“What?”
“You saw what I’m wearing, so what are you wearing?”
“Uh…” Eduardo looks down. “White dress shirt, black jacket and pants, gray striped tie.”
“Some things never change.” Mark sighs. “Why did you call?”
“I miss you,” Eduardo says simply. “I’m not sure I realized just how much until today.”
“Will you wear your expensive gray striped tie on the flight out to California?”
“Who said anything about-”
“You’re predictable.”
“Mark, I’m not going to drop everything and fly out to see you.”
“I’m on the Continental website now. They have a flight that leaves JFK Airport at 8:30 and gets in here around 11:15. I’ll arrange for a car to pick you up.”
“Mark! I said I’m not visiting. I have a meeting tomorrow.”
“Webcam it. You called for a reason, Wardo.”
“Just to say hello.”
“After half a decade and a billion dollar settlement?”
“Maybe,” Eduardo says lamely.
“Don’t change before you get here. Your clothes, I mean.”
“Why?”
“You know why.” Mark’s voice is entirely different than it was during the livestream. “Because I always loved you in those expensive slacks, even thought it looked vaguely absurd when we were nineteen years old. I loved how the fabric felt when I would press my palm against you as you got hard, and how they would be all wrinkled after we fucked. Remember the first time, how you kept them around your knees when I had you bent over my desk in the dorm room?”
“Christ, Mark…you’re not playing fair.”
“You called because you missed this. You missed us.”
Eduardo’s breath is labored. “What time is the flight?”
“8:30. Can you get to the airport by then?”
“I’ll try. But it’s not like I’ll show up in Palo Alto and things will be like they were back at school.”
“Of course not. I don’t really want it to be the same, anyway. Back then we kind of thought we could have a relationship. I don’t have the time or energy for a relationship, but I miss the sex.”
This will be a mistake. Eduardo knows this will be a mistake. It doesn’t matter, though. There’s an air of inevitability about all this. Whether it’s masochism or self-delusion or willful blindness, it’s the way he’ll always feel when it comes to Mark. He fingers his expensive silk tie and his lips twist into a bitter smile. At least this time he knows how it will end.
“Eduardo?”
“Yeah, Mark. I guess you’ll get the sex,” he sighs.
He hangs up and decides to hail a cab immediately. He’ll have Paulette buy his ticket online while he’s en route to the airport; there’s no need to pack anything. It’s not worth lugging a suitcase out to California if he knows he’ll be there for maybe twenty-four hours, or however long it takes for them to have a good, cathartic fuck-session. Maybe he should leave his coat, though. It’s cool in New York, but probably warm in California. Eduardo goes online to check the weather out there and he shakes his head in rueful disbelief.
It’s raining in Palo Alto.
AUTHOR: Sarah (Slashyelizabeth)
PAIRING: Mark/Eduardo
RATING: PG-13/R
SUMMARY: Eduardo realizes some things will never change
DISCLAIMER: This is SO not true. I lay no claim to neither the real Zuckerberg and Saverin nor the Eisenberg/Garfield incarnations.
WORD COUNT: 1,034
NOTES: Inspired by the press conference at Facebook headquarters earlier today. Possible sequel if anyone is interested.
It all happens because Eduardo’s lunch date cancels on him. He’s not that surprised; he’d already canceled twice on her, so he probably deserves to have her bail on him. Instead of sticking around at the way-too-expensive restaurant he decides to grab a latte from Starbucks and head back to the office.
Obviously his assistant wasn’t expecting him to return, since everyone who knows Eduardo knows that mentioning Mark Zuckerberg is a bad idea. Paulette doesn’t mention Mark, but she doesn’t have to. Eduardo’s beloved long-term assistant is staring at her computer and a very familiar voice is coming from the speakers.
“It will be very simple to get an email address through Facebook…”
Eduardo trips over his own feet and gets hot coffee all over his Armani pants. “Fuck!”
“Eduardo!” Paulette whirls around and tries to minimize the window and mute Mark Zuckerberg. “I thought you were at lunch!”
“There was a conflict. Hey, you can watch the press conference or whatever it is. I won’t jump out a window just because I hear Mark talking.” The fact that he then rushes into his office and closes the door belies his statement. He changes his pants and then sits down in front of his desk. He searches for the livestream and finds it quickly enough. Mark is answering questions, looking for all the world like he’d rather be coding instead of explaining things that he thinks a four-year-old should be able to understand.
He looks good. Eduardo has to admit that. He’s wearing sneakers instead of flip-flops, and there’s no hoodie, but the hair is a mess and it makes Eduardo laugh. Mark could never be bothered to conform to anyone’s grooming standards even if he knew he’d be doing public speaking. Actually, Eduardo wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why his curls are un-brushed: a nice Fuck You to the establishment.
The stream goes on for another fifteen minutes. When it ends Eduardo finds he has his cell phone in his hand and a sad smile on his face. He dials a number he hopes is still in service.
“Dustin? Hey, it’s Wardo. No seriously, it is me. I need a favor.”
* * *
Mark answers on the fifth ring.
“Whoever this is better have a really good reason for interrupting my coding session and Chinese food dinner.”
“Hello to you, too.”
Mark makes a noise that’s like a squawk and Eduardo jerks the receiver away from his ear. “What the fuck? How did you get this number?”
“What, no ‘nice to hear from you Wardo’?”
“Seriously, how did you get this number?”
“I have blackmail material on Dustin.”
Neither one says anything for a full minute. Then, “Eduardo, what do you want?”
“You’re calling me Eduardo now?”
“I didn’t think we were on familiar terms anymore.”
“I watched the press conference.”
“Good for you.”
Eduardo pinches the bridge of his nose and reclines on the couch in his office. “I noticed you didn’t bother brushing your hair.”
“Not everyone can be suave like you. What are you wearing?”
“What?”
“You saw what I’m wearing, so what are you wearing?”
“Uh…” Eduardo looks down. “White dress shirt, black jacket and pants, gray striped tie.”
“Some things never change.” Mark sighs. “Why did you call?”
“I miss you,” Eduardo says simply. “I’m not sure I realized just how much until today.”
“Will you wear your expensive gray striped tie on the flight out to California?”
“Who said anything about-”
“You’re predictable.”
“Mark, I’m not going to drop everything and fly out to see you.”
“I’m on the Continental website now. They have a flight that leaves JFK Airport at 8:30 and gets in here around 11:15. I’ll arrange for a car to pick you up.”
“Mark! I said I’m not visiting. I have a meeting tomorrow.”
“Webcam it. You called for a reason, Wardo.”
“Just to say hello.”
“After half a decade and a billion dollar settlement?”
“Maybe,” Eduardo says lamely.
“Don’t change before you get here. Your clothes, I mean.”
“Why?”
“You know why.” Mark’s voice is entirely different than it was during the livestream. “Because I always loved you in those expensive slacks, even thought it looked vaguely absurd when we were nineteen years old. I loved how the fabric felt when I would press my palm against you as you got hard, and how they would be all wrinkled after we fucked. Remember the first time, how you kept them around your knees when I had you bent over my desk in the dorm room?”
“Christ, Mark…you’re not playing fair.”
“You called because you missed this. You missed us.”
Eduardo’s breath is labored. “What time is the flight?”
“8:30. Can you get to the airport by then?”
“I’ll try. But it’s not like I’ll show up in Palo Alto and things will be like they were back at school.”
“Of course not. I don’t really want it to be the same, anyway. Back then we kind of thought we could have a relationship. I don’t have the time or energy for a relationship, but I miss the sex.”
This will be a mistake. Eduardo knows this will be a mistake. It doesn’t matter, though. There’s an air of inevitability about all this. Whether it’s masochism or self-delusion or willful blindness, it’s the way he’ll always feel when it comes to Mark. He fingers his expensive silk tie and his lips twist into a bitter smile. At least this time he knows how it will end.
“Eduardo?”
“Yeah, Mark. I guess you’ll get the sex,” he sighs.
He hangs up and decides to hail a cab immediately. He’ll have Paulette buy his ticket online while he’s en route to the airport; there’s no need to pack anything. It’s not worth lugging a suitcase out to California if he knows he’ll be there for maybe twenty-four hours, or however long it takes for them to have a good, cathartic fuck-session. Maybe he should leave his coat, though. It’s cool in New York, but probably warm in California. Eduardo goes online to check the weather out there and he shakes his head in rueful disbelief.
It’s raining in Palo Alto.