Do You Like Me, Yes/No?
Title: Do You Like Me, Yes/No?
Author: ifeelbetter
Disclaimer:I own nothing of value besides one kickass ukulele named Buttercup.
Word Count: 1,404
Summary: Mark doesn't react well when he finds out the whole staff have been nursing a crush on Eduardo.
Notes: Isn't it odd how some fandoms tend towards the mammoth, months-in-the-making fic (I'm looking at you, TSN) and some (Inception springs to mind) tend towards ten times the quantity and a fraction of the length? I love all the lengths of fic, obviously, because they're all brilliant. But I realized--since I was in the middle of No to Your Key of Rust and two other massive WIPs--that I hadn't written all that many short-n-sweet fic for this fandom. So I pumped this one out overnight, just to see how it fit.
On the fifth anniversary of the Facemash night, someone--Dustin, it was always Dustin, it was probably still Dustin--decided it would be hilarious to get one going in the Facebook headquarters using the staff's photos.
All in good fun! the website said, followed by what could only be described as an ominous smiley.
It wouldn't have bothered Mark--it's not as if he had ever deluded himself into thinking he would rate anywhere other than the bottom of the pile in this sort of beauty pageant--except for the one thing. The one thing was a fairly major thing and it bothered him immensely.
Eduardo was the top rated person by somewhere around six digits. There weren't even that many people working for Facebook...probably. It was hard to keep track.
Mark refreshed the screen. It had gone up by a hundred votes. In a matter of minutes.
He crossed his office and slammed the glass door behind him.
"OK," he said, crossing his arms, "How many of you have crushes on Eduardo Saverin?" He did his best to glower at the non-cubicle cubicles dotted around the office. His employees stared blankly back. "I will fire anyone who doesn't answer truthfully."
He sighed internally when the threat actually prompted people to raise their hands--he should be hiring people who know he couldn't possibly check something like whether they were being honest about having a crush on his--on his Eduardo.
He would have continued in his internal rant on the subject if he hadn't been completely bowled over by the fact that his entire staff was raising their hands.
"What--all of you?" he asked incredulously.
"That is a man who knows how to wear a suit," Dustin said dreamily. Mark glared at him.
"It's the eyes," said Mark's assistant, Maria. "They're like limpid pools of--"
"No! Definitely don't finish that thought!" Mark shouted. "And the rest of you! I am banning you from your crushes."
"You can't actually--" someone started to protest. Mark couldn't even work up the goodwill to be pleased that someone had finally put their thinking cap on. This was a question of his--his. His. Whatever. His Wardo.
"Silence!" Mark said, aware he was edging ever closer to Disney villain territory and not really minding. "There will be no discussion. And I will fire anyone who continues to have a crush on Ward--Eduardo Saverin."
"It's not like you can even tell--" someone else (or possibly the same person, the cubicles were blocking Mark's view of the dissenters) hazarded.
"I will. Fire. Anyone else. Who has a crush. On Eduardo." Mark spoke slowly and filled every pause with all the vitriol and fear-mongering he could.
His staff mostly shrugged, thoroughly un-petrified of his wroth.
"You threaten to fire everyone too much," Dustin said, appearing at his elbow.
"I always mean it," Mark said darkly.
Dustin patted his shoulder. "Wanna talk about it, buddy?"
Mark grimaced and went back into his office, closing the door in Dustin's face.
Back in their Harvard days, it had been a source of pride for Mark that Eduardo trailed after him like a forlorn baby deer. When other people had expressed interest, it had been the easiest thing in the world to pull Eduardo's attention away--as easy as crooking a finger, beckoning--and have him all to his own again. He hadn't questioned it--obviously--until he'd gone too far.
Then there had the awful knowledge that Mark could beckon and Eduardo wouldn't turn, wouldn't notice, wouldn't return. And Mark had been forced to re-think, to strategize, and--eventually--to make amends. And it turned out that Eduardo had still just been waiting for the right sign, for the crooked finger, to return. All Mark had needed to say was, "I'm sorry, man, let's just hang out and play video games and stuff again," and Eduardo was back.
That had been that. Problem solved.
That was why it was so odd that watching Eduardo's vote tally continue to climb--Mark was going to fire someone at some point for this--still rankled. Because Eduardo was coming over to see him, to have dinner with him, not the rest of the staff. And Mark had once enjoyed pointing out to people that Eduardo liked him best despite everything. It had been his favorite dining hall game. But now...it rankled.
He googled "stop crush." He was perplexed by the obvious assumption that the searcher would be hoping to stop his or her own feelings. There was no useful information. He wanted something with instructions on how to stop his staff from having warm, fluffy feelings at Eduardo, not how to stop himself from having--
Oh, he thought. I suppose I do have warm, fluffy feelings for Eduardo.
Oddly, it didn't feel like the revelation his rational mind told him it ought to be. It felt more like a statement of obvious fact.
It also made him that much more determined to stop this ridiculous office-wide crush from going any further.
"Right," he said with decision, storming out of his office again, "Stop voting for Wardo. Stop doing it right now. And stop the crushes. No one is allowed--I mean no one is ever allowed to have the slightest romantic inclination towards Eduardo Saverin or I will make his or her life a living hell. I can do it."
The blank stares stared back at him.
"There will be no fantasies about his suits--no matter how well they might fit him," Mark continued. "Especially considering how well they fit him."
More blank stares. There might have been some smirking. Mark took this as further impetus for his rant.
"And no daydreaming about his eyes. His eyes are off limits," he said, pointing at individuals who looked like they might be contemplating such a daydream. "Or his hair. His hair is off limits too."
There was a polite cough to his right.
Eduardo was standing by Maria's desk in one of his suits, with his hair and his eyes, and his--whatever. And a certain smugness. There was definitely some smugness.
"Let that be a lesson to you all," Mark told his staff with one last jab of his finger in their general direction.
"Can I ask a question?" Eduardo said--still smug--with a hand raised like they were still in school.
"No."
"Is no one allowed to have a crush on me ever?" Eduardo asked. The staff giggled.
"That's the new rule," Mark said, glaring.
"Absolutely no one?" Eduardo said, sauntering closer.
"No one ever at any time," Mark clarified.
"You couldn't make any exceptions?" Eduardo wheedled. He was getting awfully close. There was a whistle from someone. Probably Dustin. It was always Dustin.
"You--there's--I don't--" Mark stammered.
"I mean, I go to all the trouble of having my suits tailored and all," Eduardo said, "and hair like this doesn't just happen..."
He leaned against the glass door of Mark's office nonchalantly. Mark had a split second where he was conscious of the moment as being one of possibility: he could see the unfolding of both options. What a funny joke, he could say and he and Eduardo would continue to be what they had always been and that would be that. They'd play video games in his ridiculous billionaire un-mansion at night and always stay an inch or two--a safety's breath--apart. It would be constant and it would be safe.
But there was the other option, the one that could re-install Mark in the position of pulling Eduardo away from other people. He'd have some kind of claim again--only he'd be different. He'd be better. He'd know what he had.
"I can make one exception," Mark said and reveled in the open, unclouded joy on Eduardo's face.
"Yeah?" Eduardo asked carefully.
"Kiss him!" someone--Dustin--shouted.
"Well, that's just an ambiguous use of pronouns--" Mark started to say, almost turning towards the speaker, but Eduardo caught the end of the sentence against his lips. It wasn't a perfect kiss--it really couldn't have been, not at that angle. It was off-center and awkward.
"Yeah, OK," Mark said when the kiss broke quietly. His forehead tipped gently against Eduardo's and it felt silent--it wasn't, the office was suddenly filled with noise and conversation--like it was just them, alone in the world.
Author: ifeelbetter
Disclaimer:I own nothing of value besides one kickass ukulele named Buttercup.
Word Count: 1,404
Summary: Mark doesn't react well when he finds out the whole staff have been nursing a crush on Eduardo.
Notes: Isn't it odd how some fandoms tend towards the mammoth, months-in-the-making fic (I'm looking at you, TSN) and some (Inception springs to mind) tend towards ten times the quantity and a fraction of the length? I love all the lengths of fic, obviously, because they're all brilliant. But I realized--since I was in the middle of No to Your Key of Rust and two other massive WIPs--that I hadn't written all that many short-n-sweet fic for this fandom. So I pumped this one out overnight, just to see how it fit.
On the fifth anniversary of the Facemash night, someone--Dustin, it was always Dustin, it was probably still Dustin--decided it would be hilarious to get one going in the Facebook headquarters using the staff's photos.
All in good fun! the website said, followed by what could only be described as an ominous smiley.
It wouldn't have bothered Mark--it's not as if he had ever deluded himself into thinking he would rate anywhere other than the bottom of the pile in this sort of beauty pageant--except for the one thing. The one thing was a fairly major thing and it bothered him immensely.
Eduardo was the top rated person by somewhere around six digits. There weren't even that many people working for Facebook...probably. It was hard to keep track.
Mark refreshed the screen. It had gone up by a hundred votes. In a matter of minutes.
He crossed his office and slammed the glass door behind him.
"OK," he said, crossing his arms, "How many of you have crushes on Eduardo Saverin?" He did his best to glower at the non-cubicle cubicles dotted around the office. His employees stared blankly back. "I will fire anyone who doesn't answer truthfully."
He sighed internally when the threat actually prompted people to raise their hands--he should be hiring people who know he couldn't possibly check something like whether they were being honest about having a crush on his--on his Eduardo.
He would have continued in his internal rant on the subject if he hadn't been completely bowled over by the fact that his entire staff was raising their hands.
"What--all of you?" he asked incredulously.
"That is a man who knows how to wear a suit," Dustin said dreamily. Mark glared at him.
"It's the eyes," said Mark's assistant, Maria. "They're like limpid pools of--"
"No! Definitely don't finish that thought!" Mark shouted. "And the rest of you! I am banning you from your crushes."
"You can't actually--" someone started to protest. Mark couldn't even work up the goodwill to be pleased that someone had finally put their thinking cap on. This was a question of his--his. His. Whatever. His Wardo.
"Silence!" Mark said, aware he was edging ever closer to Disney villain territory and not really minding. "There will be no discussion. And I will fire anyone who continues to have a crush on Ward--Eduardo Saverin."
"It's not like you can even tell--" someone else (or possibly the same person, the cubicles were blocking Mark's view of the dissenters) hazarded.
"I will. Fire. Anyone else. Who has a crush. On Eduardo." Mark spoke slowly and filled every pause with all the vitriol and fear-mongering he could.
His staff mostly shrugged, thoroughly un-petrified of his wroth.
"You threaten to fire everyone too much," Dustin said, appearing at his elbow.
"I always mean it," Mark said darkly.
Dustin patted his shoulder. "Wanna talk about it, buddy?"
Mark grimaced and went back into his office, closing the door in Dustin's face.
Back in their Harvard days, it had been a source of pride for Mark that Eduardo trailed after him like a forlorn baby deer. When other people had expressed interest, it had been the easiest thing in the world to pull Eduardo's attention away--as easy as crooking a finger, beckoning--and have him all to his own again. He hadn't questioned it--obviously--until he'd gone too far.
Then there had the awful knowledge that Mark could beckon and Eduardo wouldn't turn, wouldn't notice, wouldn't return. And Mark had been forced to re-think, to strategize, and--eventually--to make amends. And it turned out that Eduardo had still just been waiting for the right sign, for the crooked finger, to return. All Mark had needed to say was, "I'm sorry, man, let's just hang out and play video games and stuff again," and Eduardo was back.
That had been that. Problem solved.
That was why it was so odd that watching Eduardo's vote tally continue to climb--Mark was going to fire someone at some point for this--still rankled. Because Eduardo was coming over to see him, to have dinner with him, not the rest of the staff. And Mark had once enjoyed pointing out to people that Eduardo liked him best despite everything. It had been his favorite dining hall game. But now...it rankled.
He googled "stop crush." He was perplexed by the obvious assumption that the searcher would be hoping to stop his or her own feelings. There was no useful information. He wanted something with instructions on how to stop his staff from having warm, fluffy feelings at Eduardo, not how to stop himself from having--
Oh, he thought. I suppose I do have warm, fluffy feelings for Eduardo.
Oddly, it didn't feel like the revelation his rational mind told him it ought to be. It felt more like a statement of obvious fact.
It also made him that much more determined to stop this ridiculous office-wide crush from going any further.
"Right," he said with decision, storming out of his office again, "Stop voting for Wardo. Stop doing it right now. And stop the crushes. No one is allowed--I mean no one is ever allowed to have the slightest romantic inclination towards Eduardo Saverin or I will make his or her life a living hell. I can do it."
The blank stares stared back at him.
"There will be no fantasies about his suits--no matter how well they might fit him," Mark continued. "Especially considering how well they fit him."
More blank stares. There might have been some smirking. Mark took this as further impetus for his rant.
"And no daydreaming about his eyes. His eyes are off limits," he said, pointing at individuals who looked like they might be contemplating such a daydream. "Or his hair. His hair is off limits too."
There was a polite cough to his right.
Eduardo was standing by Maria's desk in one of his suits, with his hair and his eyes, and his--whatever. And a certain smugness. There was definitely some smugness.
"Let that be a lesson to you all," Mark told his staff with one last jab of his finger in their general direction.
"Can I ask a question?" Eduardo said--still smug--with a hand raised like they were still in school.
"No."
"Is no one allowed to have a crush on me ever?" Eduardo asked. The staff giggled.
"That's the new rule," Mark said, glaring.
"Absolutely no one?" Eduardo said, sauntering closer.
"No one ever at any time," Mark clarified.
"You couldn't make any exceptions?" Eduardo wheedled. He was getting awfully close. There was a whistle from someone. Probably Dustin. It was always Dustin.
"You--there's--I don't--" Mark stammered.
"I mean, I go to all the trouble of having my suits tailored and all," Eduardo said, "and hair like this doesn't just happen..."
He leaned against the glass door of Mark's office nonchalantly. Mark had a split second where he was conscious of the moment as being one of possibility: he could see the unfolding of both options. What a funny joke, he could say and he and Eduardo would continue to be what they had always been and that would be that. They'd play video games in his ridiculous billionaire un-mansion at night and always stay an inch or two--a safety's breath--apart. It would be constant and it would be safe.
But there was the other option, the one that could re-install Mark in the position of pulling Eduardo away from other people. He'd have some kind of claim again--only he'd be different. He'd be better. He'd know what he had.
"I can make one exception," Mark said and reveled in the open, unclouded joy on Eduardo's face.
"Yeah?" Eduardo asked carefully.
"Kiss him!" someone--Dustin--shouted.
"Well, that's just an ambiguous use of pronouns--" Mark started to say, almost turning towards the speaker, but Eduardo caught the end of the sentence against his lips. It wasn't a perfect kiss--it really couldn't have been, not at that angle. It was off-center and awkward.
"Yeah, OK," Mark said when the kiss broke quietly. His forehead tipped gently against Eduardo's and it felt silent--it wasn't, the office was suddenly filled with noise and conversation--like it was just them, alone in the world.