FIC: High Summer Shift {The Social Network - Eduardo/Sean}
Title: High Summer Shift
Author: Silvia Kundera
Fandom: The Social Network
Disclaimer: Just harmless fantasy based off the characters from The Social Network. Not intending to damage copyright or represent any real persons, living or dead.
Pairing: Eduardo/Sean
Words: 1,500
Summary: "So Parker's a werewolf."
Note: I blame the Teen Wolf fandom entirely. Damn you all.
----
"So Parker's a werewolf. Since April," Eduardo said, listening to the thundering sound of what might be shoulder or foot against wood and plaster. It was a few doors down but the thuds were echoing through the hallway.
"It's not a big deal."
"It sounds like a big deal." The windows rattled. "Literally. Did you hear that?"
"He has contacts with V.C.'s," Mark said flatly. "So it really isn't."
"Except now he's in heat!" Dustin repeated for the fourth time in their conversation. Eduardo thought he'd just always wanted to say that, and was now relishing the moment.
"That part might be a big deal," Mark admitted.
*
"He has to have sex. Tonight--"
"Tomorrow morning's probably fine," Dustin said.
"--or he's going to die?"
"Or maybe just be in a coma for a couple months," Mark said. "Our contact wasn't entirely clear on the subject."
"We need to find him a girl, then." They just needed a plan. Eduardo could do plans. "You must know a few he's hooked up with before. They'll be in his phone. What was her name, the girl over here that night when I. um."
Mark's mouth thinned. "No girls. We can't have this getting around."
"Maybe they'd--"
Dustin raised an eyebrow and then his soda can, to sip loudly from it and hiccup. "How well would you take it?"
"Point. Fine, it has to be one of us."
*
"Wait, but why is it me?" Eduardo said. "We're not-- why aren't we drawing straws?"
*
"I didn't even want you here," grumbled Eduardo twenty minutes later. He had on Mark's drawstring pants and a clean, green polo shirt. Dustin had handed him the last of the Grey Goose to polish off and each long draw of vodka had slammed into his head like pulsing molten splinters. (Then Dustin started to say something about "preparing" himself and everything went a little white noise for a bit. "No, that's. No," was all Eduardo said.)
They'd pulled all of the furniture out of the room for Sean's safety a few hours back, before Eduardo had arrived. There was a fan in the ceiling that was whirring quietly, at medium speed, and the light at its center was switched on. He could see the grooves in the carpet where there used to be a dresser, a wide desk, and a bed frame.
Sean huddled, naked, in the upper right corner. There were scratches on his arms and he looked feverish, flushed and breathing like it cost something. His mouth was dark pink and swollen, like he had been biting at his lips and maybe even doorways and chairs or whatever, before they'd cleaned out the place. His hair was snarled, probably from clutching at his head. Despite all that, he looked pretty human. But then it wasn't a full moon, was it?
It was when Eduardo approached slowly and knelt down a cautious arm's length from his feet whispering, "hey," that Sean pounced. Eduardo froze as he was flung to the carpet, the wind knocked out of him as his back hit the ground, and closed his eyes, fighting to un-tense his muscles, because that would make everything that much worse. Really should have listened to Dustin, that fucker, he thought. And then Sean's hands were at Eduardo's waist, pushing up under his shirt (slippery with sweat like the rest of him, but it didn't smell like regular sun-out, post-soccer guy sweat, it smelled salty-sweet, in a way that reminded him of warm, sleepy sex) and they just--stopped there.
The fingers dug into his sides, but not deep, just firm and resistant to removal. As Eduardo caught his breath he could feel the equally insistent push of Sean's hardness against his thigh, Sean's hips circling as his throat made a tight happy-pained noise. Sean's mouth brushed over Eduardo's neck and Eduardo's hand was clutching the small of Sean's back because--because he needed to clutch something, and his heart was racing, and he could feel Sean's heart racing too, through the thin cotton of that stupid crumpled polo shirt. And when Sean squirmed, he found his legs parting just a little. And when Sean shivered, then Eduardo's short nails bit down hard and he shivered too.
oh fuck it fuck it fuck it fuck it fuck it, Eduardo said in his head and twisted his other hand in between them. Sean's stomach was soft and silky against his palm, with a rough prickle of hair as his hand slid farther downward. Sean's cock felt silky too, and very damp. It was really hot, like bleeding heat, and so stiff that Eduardo felt his own cock go full-hard in sympathetic response.
He stroked lightly at first, then rougher as Sean gasped, hips jerking. When Sean slung an arm up over his shoulders and began fucking his fist, Eduardo opened his eyes again and then shuddered, rubbing at himself with the flat of his free hand and coming in a hot pulse that ripped through him viciously, leaving him slack and shaky as Sean finished abruptly as well.
Sean panted for a bit, muscles quaking. Eduardo wiped his hand on his pants and waited. But instead of rolling off, Sean settled himself down with a murmur of contentment.
At least fifteen minutes later (he had managed, with some difficulty, to angle his head so the clock was visible), Eduardo was still waiting.
"Holy fuck, he's cuddling me," he tried to shout through the door and turned to look down at his jailer. "Are you going to do that all night?"
Sean snuggled closer, tucking against his front and pushing his head under Eduardo's chin. A low vibrating noise came from his throat.
"I think I might have preferred the ass rape." An even lower noise rumbled through Sean's chest. "Ha, just kidding! That was definitely a joke."
Eduardo heard the door hinges creak. "So that's unexpected," said Dustin ruefully. "This site says he must subconsciously consider you, like, the dominant one." He paused. "Oh, dude, good thing you hunkered down. Otherwise he would have totally tried to fight you to the death!"
"Are you looking?" Eduardo shrieked. "Oh my god, go away."
*
Sean was watching him when he woke.
He blinked when Eduardo said, "uh, hi?" and tucked his face back into the curve of Eduardo's throat. His mouth brushed hotly against Eduardo's collarbone as both of his palms came up to wrap over Eduardo's shoulders and his knees spread to lock against the outside of Eduardo's thighs, slotting them snugly together.
"Right, good morning. But now I have to pee," he said weakly and Sean bunched in tighter. "There will be no water sports!" Eduardo declared in what he fully intended to be a firm voice, but it sounded a little shrill to his ears.
Sean stilled and loosened his grip a bit. "I'll come right back," Eduardo promised and felt himself run a hand all the way down the warm, smooth slope of Sean's back, before he could think twice about it. He thumbed the delicate soft skin where Sean's ass met the back of his thighs and then slid his hand up again, all the way up to cup the nape of Sean's neck, which he squeezed soothingly. Sean's body arched into his touch in a manner that made Eduardo think of--things (things that should not be thought of, when one has a man's health and sanity balanced in the palm of one's hand)(but ok, later he was totally jerking off to that image, a lot), and Sean bent to rub his cheek against the v of Eduardo's shirt and then released him, scooting off to the side.
"Thanks," said Eduardo awkwardly, straightening his collar. He closed the door gently behind him.
He returned to the room about seven minutes later, with a large chipped mug of heavily sweetened coffee. Sean had his shorts back on and he was sitting up. There was a certain glassiness to his eyes still, but not that bad. His body language was all human again, though sheepish. "Oh, I didn't bring you one. I thought." Sean's eyes were very blue. "Are you, can you speak?"
"I can talk. Fuck." Sean's voice was scratchy, like it scraped to form words, and Eduardo recalled the intelligible screeches that had been echoing through the house when the taxi had dropped him off. Distrust was starting to reenter Sean's eyes as they cleared and he came out of the fog.
For some reason Eduardo couldn't explain, he pulled his shirt over his head so they were both naked from the waist up, and sat down, taking a sip out of the mug and then passing it over for Sean to take one.
Sean peered down at it and then took a deep gulp.
When Eduardo scooted back against the wall, Sean followed suit, cradling the mug in both hands. As Eduardo began to slog through his emails, Sean read them too, leaning against his shoulder. They argued briefly, three times, but Sean let him win two of them.
This entry was originally posted at http://silviakundera.dreamwidth.org/842892.html. There are
comments.
Author: Silvia Kundera
Fandom: The Social Network
Disclaimer: Just harmless fantasy based off the characters from The Social Network. Not intending to damage copyright or represent any real persons, living or dead.
Pairing: Eduardo/Sean
Words: 1,500
Summary: "So Parker's a werewolf."
Note: I blame the Teen Wolf fandom entirely. Damn you all.
----
"So Parker's a werewolf. Since April," Eduardo said, listening to the thundering sound of what might be shoulder or foot against wood and plaster. It was a few doors down but the thuds were echoing through the hallway.
"It's not a big deal."
"It sounds like a big deal." The windows rattled. "Literally. Did you hear that?"
"He has contacts with V.C.'s," Mark said flatly. "So it really isn't."
"Except now he's in heat!" Dustin repeated for the fourth time in their conversation. Eduardo thought he'd just always wanted to say that, and was now relishing the moment.
"That part might be a big deal," Mark admitted.
*
"He has to have sex. Tonight--"
"Tomorrow morning's probably fine," Dustin said.
"--or he's going to die?"
"Or maybe just be in a coma for a couple months," Mark said. "Our contact wasn't entirely clear on the subject."
"We need to find him a girl, then." They just needed a plan. Eduardo could do plans. "You must know a few he's hooked up with before. They'll be in his phone. What was her name, the girl over here that night when I. um."
Mark's mouth thinned. "No girls. We can't have this getting around."
"Maybe they'd--"
Dustin raised an eyebrow and then his soda can, to sip loudly from it and hiccup. "How well would you take it?"
"Point. Fine, it has to be one of us."
*
"Wait, but why is it me?" Eduardo said. "We're not-- why aren't we drawing straws?"
*
"I didn't even want you here," grumbled Eduardo twenty minutes later. He had on Mark's drawstring pants and a clean, green polo shirt. Dustin had handed him the last of the Grey Goose to polish off and each long draw of vodka had slammed into his head like pulsing molten splinters. (Then Dustin started to say something about "preparing" himself and everything went a little white noise for a bit. "No, that's. No," was all Eduardo said.)
They'd pulled all of the furniture out of the room for Sean's safety a few hours back, before Eduardo had arrived. There was a fan in the ceiling that was whirring quietly, at medium speed, and the light at its center was switched on. He could see the grooves in the carpet where there used to be a dresser, a wide desk, and a bed frame.
Sean huddled, naked, in the upper right corner. There were scratches on his arms and he looked feverish, flushed and breathing like it cost something. His mouth was dark pink and swollen, like he had been biting at his lips and maybe even doorways and chairs or whatever, before they'd cleaned out the place. His hair was snarled, probably from clutching at his head. Despite all that, he looked pretty human. But then it wasn't a full moon, was it?
It was when Eduardo approached slowly and knelt down a cautious arm's length from his feet whispering, "hey," that Sean pounced. Eduardo froze as he was flung to the carpet, the wind knocked out of him as his back hit the ground, and closed his eyes, fighting to un-tense his muscles, because that would make everything that much worse. Really should have listened to Dustin, that fucker, he thought. And then Sean's hands were at Eduardo's waist, pushing up under his shirt (slippery with sweat like the rest of him, but it didn't smell like regular sun-out, post-soccer guy sweat, it smelled salty-sweet, in a way that reminded him of warm, sleepy sex) and they just--stopped there.
The fingers dug into his sides, but not deep, just firm and resistant to removal. As Eduardo caught his breath he could feel the equally insistent push of Sean's hardness against his thigh, Sean's hips circling as his throat made a tight happy-pained noise. Sean's mouth brushed over Eduardo's neck and Eduardo's hand was clutching the small of Sean's back because--because he needed to clutch something, and his heart was racing, and he could feel Sean's heart racing too, through the thin cotton of that stupid crumpled polo shirt. And when Sean squirmed, he found his legs parting just a little. And when Sean shivered, then Eduardo's short nails bit down hard and he shivered too.
oh fuck it fuck it fuck it fuck it fuck it, Eduardo said in his head and twisted his other hand in between them. Sean's stomach was soft and silky against his palm, with a rough prickle of hair as his hand slid farther downward. Sean's cock felt silky too, and very damp. It was really hot, like bleeding heat, and so stiff that Eduardo felt his own cock go full-hard in sympathetic response.
He stroked lightly at first, then rougher as Sean gasped, hips jerking. When Sean slung an arm up over his shoulders and began fucking his fist, Eduardo opened his eyes again and then shuddered, rubbing at himself with the flat of his free hand and coming in a hot pulse that ripped through him viciously, leaving him slack and shaky as Sean finished abruptly as well.
Sean panted for a bit, muscles quaking. Eduardo wiped his hand on his pants and waited. But instead of rolling off, Sean settled himself down with a murmur of contentment.
At least fifteen minutes later (he had managed, with some difficulty, to angle his head so the clock was visible), Eduardo was still waiting.
"Holy fuck, he's cuddling me," he tried to shout through the door and turned to look down at his jailer. "Are you going to do that all night?"
Sean snuggled closer, tucking against his front and pushing his head under Eduardo's chin. A low vibrating noise came from his throat.
"I think I might have preferred the ass rape." An even lower noise rumbled through Sean's chest. "Ha, just kidding! That was definitely a joke."
Eduardo heard the door hinges creak. "So that's unexpected," said Dustin ruefully. "This site says he must subconsciously consider you, like, the dominant one." He paused. "Oh, dude, good thing you hunkered down. Otherwise he would have totally tried to fight you to the death!"
"Are you looking?" Eduardo shrieked. "Oh my god, go away."
*
Sean was watching him when he woke.
He blinked when Eduardo said, "uh, hi?" and tucked his face back into the curve of Eduardo's throat. His mouth brushed hotly against Eduardo's collarbone as both of his palms came up to wrap over Eduardo's shoulders and his knees spread to lock against the outside of Eduardo's thighs, slotting them snugly together.
"Right, good morning. But now I have to pee," he said weakly and Sean bunched in tighter. "There will be no water sports!" Eduardo declared in what he fully intended to be a firm voice, but it sounded a little shrill to his ears.
Sean stilled and loosened his grip a bit. "I'll come right back," Eduardo promised and felt himself run a hand all the way down the warm, smooth slope of Sean's back, before he could think twice about it. He thumbed the delicate soft skin where Sean's ass met the back of his thighs and then slid his hand up again, all the way up to cup the nape of Sean's neck, which he squeezed soothingly. Sean's body arched into his touch in a manner that made Eduardo think of--things (things that should not be thought of, when one has a man's health and sanity balanced in the palm of one's hand)(but ok, later he was totally jerking off to that image, a lot), and Sean bent to rub his cheek against the v of Eduardo's shirt and then released him, scooting off to the side.
"Thanks," said Eduardo awkwardly, straightening his collar. He closed the door gently behind him.
He returned to the room about seven minutes later, with a large chipped mug of heavily sweetened coffee. Sean had his shorts back on and he was sitting up. There was a certain glassiness to his eyes still, but not that bad. His body language was all human again, though sheepish. "Oh, I didn't bring you one. I thought." Sean's eyes were very blue. "Are you, can you speak?"
"I can talk. Fuck." Sean's voice was scratchy, like it scraped to form words, and Eduardo recalled the intelligible screeches that had been echoing through the house when the taxi had dropped him off. Distrust was starting to reenter Sean's eyes as they cleared and he came out of the fog.
For some reason Eduardo couldn't explain, he pulled his shirt over his head so they were both naked from the waist up, and sat down, taking a sip out of the mug and then passing it over for Sean to take one.
Sean peered down at it and then took a deep gulp.
When Eduardo scooted back against the wall, Sean followed suit, cradling the mug in both hands. As Eduardo began to slog through his emails, Sean read them too, leaning against his shoulder. They argued briefly, three times, but Sean let him win two of them.
This entry was originally posted at http://silviakundera.dreamwidth.org/842892.html. There are
comments.