as time goes by we're never gonna pretend
title: as time goes by we're never gonna pretend
pairing: Mark/Dustin (friendship)
author: reogulus
rating: G
wordcount: 1,294
disclaimer: Not mine, not true, not used for profit
summary: Mark is frustrated and angry with a prof of his; Dustin cheers him up.
notes: Written for lovesletyoudown , who's had a rough day. I hope this makes you feel better ♥
Title from Hedley's Friends.
Mark's had trouble in his OS class for a while now.
Of course he doesn't have trouble with the material taught - even the idea of it sounds ludicrous to anyone who knows Mark - he just behaves too much like an asshole in a class taught by a bigger asshole than he. Dustin isn't in the same class as Mark, but he's heard enough, from the shy, giggly Asian girls who want Dustin to introduce them to the coding prodigy who walked out of the class more than once because he already knew all the answers. Now, an average Harvard man may not know this, but Mark actually does the same in almost every computer science class he takes. After all, Mark's only pursuing a minor in this field. He can get a pass without breaking a sweat so long as he doesn't get flagged for poor attendance.
Well, that would've been the way things are, until said asshole prof passed some unflattering information on to the ad board when Mark is called to a hearing regarding FaceMash, and the board has decided to "make an example" out of Mark and sentence him to six-months academic probation.
Eduardo seems to think the outcome isn't all that surprising, but Dustin knows better. He can read the brooding speculation in his roommate's eyes when Mark wriggles out of his hoodie, and drops it on the floor with a lot more force than necessary.
"Long day?"
Mark doesn't answer, bends over the mini-fridge to get himself a can of beer, his off-white Exeter undershirt riding up.
"Okay." Dustin mutters and turns off the TV. He pushes the pile of sweats out of the way, scoots over to make room for Mark on the couch.
Mark sips his beer quietly, his breaths audible. He smells like sweat, and his hands looks like they still haven't recovered from that tight grip on the fencing foil. Wow, so even fencing doesn't help, Dustin thinks to himself as Mark downs the last drop of alcohol, this is a toughie.
"It sucked, didn't it?" Dustin states the obvious, trying to sound comforting.
"Colins did it. I know he did it." says Mark. He doesn't look at Dustin, crushes the aluminum can and leaves it on the cluttered coffee table. "But unless he told them via email, there's no way for me to prove it."
Dustin frowns. He doesn't know what the hell Mark's talking about, but asking him at this time and place would be a bad idea. Better to be encouraging and vague. "It's all right, man, it's not the end of the world. Who cares what they think? You need to look ahead."
"So he thinks this is the way to get back at me for all those times I proved him wrong, to make me look bad in front of the ad board so I'll get more than a slap on the wrist," Mark's eyes are dark as he leans back and stares up at the ceiling. "At least I own up to what FaceMash did. Colins is no better than a two-faced snitch."
"You do know that if our suite is bugged, you're as good as suspended or expelled right now."
Mark breaks out a smile despite his best effort to keep the moping going. "Stop reading those conspiracy theories on the Internet, Dustin. They're fucking stupid, and they're getting to your head."
"And you're letting Colins get to yours." Dustin places a hand on Mark's shoulder as the tortured genius's smile turns upside down, "Come on, Mark. You can't change what's already happened. Just lay low for a while and people will forget all this before the next semester begins."
Finally, Mark lets out a long exhale. Dustin can feel his body relaxing under his touch. "Fine. Wanna go to the bar tonight? I kind of just want to get hammered and leave this shit behind."
Dustin beams. "That's the spirit! Hold on, I know some girls who might want to buy us drinks." He fumbles with his phone's contact list, and Mark's face lights up at the sight of his clumsiness."Now where are their numbers..."
**
Mark's wish has been granted. They got hammered, and the Asian girls did not disappoint either, what with their slender figure and shrill laugh and appreciation for nerdiness and total sympathy for Mark's troubles. Dustin's head feels light as feather as they wave the ladies goodbye and make their way back to Kirkland, and judging by Mark's somewhat wobbly steps, he is as happily buzzed as Dustin.
Of course, the first thing Dustin tends to after he entered the suite islooking the girls up on the facebook of their house. It's a lot less frustrating than his usual searches since he knows their names and what they look like, but the ill-designed search engine is nonetheless far from user-friendly when its user is less than 100% sober.
After several curses at the redirecting pages, Dustin manages to get a good look at the girls' profiles, mostly for Mark's sake since he's never met them before. But Mark just watches from the sidelines with an ambivalent eye, clearly unenthusiastic about starting another romantic pursuit. Erica certainly left a dent, whether Mark admits it or not.
Dustin sighs. He doesn't feel like playing shrink to Mark's love life at the moment. "Man, when is that universal facebook gonna happen? What we haveright now is complete and utter shit. I don't know why they don't want to improve this."
"They are complete and utter shitholes themselves," Mark burps and rubs his stomach. Dustin must have been pretty drunk to think he looks kind of cute doing that. "Coming up with shit like this is what they're destined to do."
"You know, the difference between trash and trashtalking is that trashtalking usually leads to a serious challenge. You think you can do better than them?"
Mark blinks, pondering. "If I put my mind to it, I guess, sure."
"Well," Dustin kicks his feet up on the desk, "This guy Greenspan from my film class has been talking about something like this for some days now, but I doubt he's a better programmer than you."
Mark grins, his voice sarcastic. "For an econ major without training in computer science whatsoever, you're quick to judge."
Dustin pouts. "You know I'm right, bro."
"So would you help?"
"What?"
"I said," Mark manages to kneel upright on the couch and leans over its back. He looks into Dustin's eyes with an unusual seriousness. "I said, if I decide to do this, would you do it with me?"
Dustin's eyes curve into warm crescents of smile. "I feel insulted that you even need to ask."
Of course he would be there for Mark, if Mark needs him. They don't need words to navigate around each other; he would be there before Mark can say it, and delivers whatever is required to make things better, be it alcohol or females or tedious debugging. Actually, Dustin has yet to learn how to do the third thing, but eventually he will find a way.
But for now, an affirmative answer is all Mark needs. So the programmer just nods dumbly and turns to drag himself to bed.
However, when he walks out of the Phoenix's bike room the next day, the first thing he remembers is Dustin's promise, and his fingers dial Dustin's number on his cell phone before he realizes he doesn't know what to say. The sun is shining bright on the sidewalk of Mount Auburn Street; Mark turns away from the light as voicemail beeps in his ear.
He draws a long breath: "Hey Dustin? Remember what we talked about last night? Apparently you're not the only one who thinks I can pull it off."
Mark bites back the thank you and hangs up. He never said those words out loud, because there's no use telling Dustin what he already knows.
pairing: Mark/Dustin (friendship)
author: reogulus
rating: G
wordcount: 1,294
disclaimer: Not mine, not true, not used for profit
summary: Mark is frustrated and angry with a prof of his; Dustin cheers him up.
notes: Written for lovesletyoudown , who's had a rough day. I hope this makes you feel better ♥
Title from Hedley's Friends.
Mark's had trouble in his OS class for a while now.
Of course he doesn't have trouble with the material taught - even the idea of it sounds ludicrous to anyone who knows Mark - he just behaves too much like an asshole in a class taught by a bigger asshole than he. Dustin isn't in the same class as Mark, but he's heard enough, from the shy, giggly Asian girls who want Dustin to introduce them to the coding prodigy who walked out of the class more than once because he already knew all the answers. Now, an average Harvard man may not know this, but Mark actually does the same in almost every computer science class he takes. After all, Mark's only pursuing a minor in this field. He can get a pass without breaking a sweat so long as he doesn't get flagged for poor attendance.
Well, that would've been the way things are, until said asshole prof passed some unflattering information on to the ad board when Mark is called to a hearing regarding FaceMash, and the board has decided to "make an example" out of Mark and sentence him to six-months academic probation.
Eduardo seems to think the outcome isn't all that surprising, but Dustin knows better. He can read the brooding speculation in his roommate's eyes when Mark wriggles out of his hoodie, and drops it on the floor with a lot more force than necessary.
"Long day?"
Mark doesn't answer, bends over the mini-fridge to get himself a can of beer, his off-white Exeter undershirt riding up.
"Okay." Dustin mutters and turns off the TV. He pushes the pile of sweats out of the way, scoots over to make room for Mark on the couch.
Mark sips his beer quietly, his breaths audible. He smells like sweat, and his hands looks like they still haven't recovered from that tight grip on the fencing foil. Wow, so even fencing doesn't help, Dustin thinks to himself as Mark downs the last drop of alcohol, this is a toughie.
"It sucked, didn't it?" Dustin states the obvious, trying to sound comforting.
"Colins did it. I know he did it." says Mark. He doesn't look at Dustin, crushes the aluminum can and leaves it on the cluttered coffee table. "But unless he told them via email, there's no way for me to prove it."
Dustin frowns. He doesn't know what the hell Mark's talking about, but asking him at this time and place would be a bad idea. Better to be encouraging and vague. "It's all right, man, it's not the end of the world. Who cares what they think? You need to look ahead."
"So he thinks this is the way to get back at me for all those times I proved him wrong, to make me look bad in front of the ad board so I'll get more than a slap on the wrist," Mark's eyes are dark as he leans back and stares up at the ceiling. "At least I own up to what FaceMash did. Colins is no better than a two-faced snitch."
"You do know that if our suite is bugged, you're as good as suspended or expelled right now."
Mark breaks out a smile despite his best effort to keep the moping going. "Stop reading those conspiracy theories on the Internet, Dustin. They're fucking stupid, and they're getting to your head."
"And you're letting Colins get to yours." Dustin places a hand on Mark's shoulder as the tortured genius's smile turns upside down, "Come on, Mark. You can't change what's already happened. Just lay low for a while and people will forget all this before the next semester begins."
Finally, Mark lets out a long exhale. Dustin can feel his body relaxing under his touch. "Fine. Wanna go to the bar tonight? I kind of just want to get hammered and leave this shit behind."
Dustin beams. "That's the spirit! Hold on, I know some girls who might want to buy us drinks." He fumbles with his phone's contact list, and Mark's face lights up at the sight of his clumsiness."Now where are their numbers..."
**
Mark's wish has been granted. They got hammered, and the Asian girls did not disappoint either, what with their slender figure and shrill laugh and appreciation for nerdiness and total sympathy for Mark's troubles. Dustin's head feels light as feather as they wave the ladies goodbye and make their way back to Kirkland, and judging by Mark's somewhat wobbly steps, he is as happily buzzed as Dustin.
Of course, the first thing Dustin tends to after he entered the suite islooking the girls up on the facebook of their house. It's a lot less frustrating than his usual searches since he knows their names and what they look like, but the ill-designed search engine is nonetheless far from user-friendly when its user is less than 100% sober.
After several curses at the redirecting pages, Dustin manages to get a good look at the girls' profiles, mostly for Mark's sake since he's never met them before. But Mark just watches from the sidelines with an ambivalent eye, clearly unenthusiastic about starting another romantic pursuit. Erica certainly left a dent, whether Mark admits it or not.
Dustin sighs. He doesn't feel like playing shrink to Mark's love life at the moment. "Man, when is that universal facebook gonna happen? What we haveright now is complete and utter shit. I don't know why they don't want to improve this."
"They are complete and utter shitholes themselves," Mark burps and rubs his stomach. Dustin must have been pretty drunk to think he looks kind of cute doing that. "Coming up with shit like this is what they're destined to do."
"You know, the difference between trash and trashtalking is that trashtalking usually leads to a serious challenge. You think you can do better than them?"
Mark blinks, pondering. "If I put my mind to it, I guess, sure."
"Well," Dustin kicks his feet up on the desk, "This guy Greenspan from my film class has been talking about something like this for some days now, but I doubt he's a better programmer than you."
Mark grins, his voice sarcastic. "For an econ major without training in computer science whatsoever, you're quick to judge."
Dustin pouts. "You know I'm right, bro."
"So would you help?"
"What?"
"I said," Mark manages to kneel upright on the couch and leans over its back. He looks into Dustin's eyes with an unusual seriousness. "I said, if I decide to do this, would you do it with me?"
Dustin's eyes curve into warm crescents of smile. "I feel insulted that you even need to ask."
Of course he would be there for Mark, if Mark needs him. They don't need words to navigate around each other; he would be there before Mark can say it, and delivers whatever is required to make things better, be it alcohol or females or tedious debugging. Actually, Dustin has yet to learn how to do the third thing, but eventually he will find a way.
But for now, an affirmative answer is all Mark needs. So the programmer just nods dumbly and turns to drag himself to bed.
However, when he walks out of the Phoenix's bike room the next day, the first thing he remembers is Dustin's promise, and his fingers dial Dustin's number on his cell phone before he realizes he doesn't know what to say. The sun is shining bright on the sidewalk of Mount Auburn Street; Mark turns away from the light as voicemail beeps in his ear.
He draws a long breath: "Hey Dustin? Remember what we talked about last night? Apparently you're not the only one who thinks I can pull it off."
Mark bites back the thank you and hangs up. He never said those words out loud, because there's no use telling Dustin what he already knows.