TSN: Five kinks and one turn-off - Turn-off: 'cum'.
Title: Five kinks and one turn-off - Turn-off: 'cum'.
Author: des_pudels_kern
Fandom: The Social Network
Pairing, Characters: Mark (implied Eduardo/Mark), Dustin (implied Chris/Dustin)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Any characters mentioned here belong to their respective creators; the names of any real people mentioned refer to fictionalised versions of these people. No money is made and no offense intended.
Length: 1776 words
Summary: Dustin has a problem with this long-distance relationship thing. But it's okay, he's sure Mark can help him.
Author's Note: Part of the Five kinks and one turn-off fic challenge I set myself after a discussion on tsn-km-gather about kinks here, asking for, wait for it, people's favourite kinks in fic and a turn-off. My turn-offs include humiliation, and anything along the lines of one character saying/thinking how the other is slutty/like a good little slut/like a girl, but a huge personal pet peeve and an instant turn-off is 'cum'.
My list:
Kinks, in no particular order:
1. h/c (t.b.a.)
2. outdoor sex (t.b.a.)
3. Happy sex (m/m, fandom-neutral as no names are give, but it works well with Harvard-era TSN, if you are so inclined, R)
4. Dubcon (I'll cheat here and use the WIP I'm writing on the kink meme - still anon, though, but maybe this'll get me to sit down and work on an update)
5. Sex heavy on detailed sensual descriptions (t.b.a.)
Turn-off:
'Cum' (here)
Comments much appreciated, including concrit (as long as it's polite).
Written: June 2011
Turn-off: 'cum'
Dustin slinks into the office Mark uses these days.
An open floor is nice and all, but various instances of private problems aired in front of programmers, interns, and , once, an investor (and his translator, who even did voices as she passed on what was being ye-uh, said), so they are compromising and have put the biggest drama-magnets into glass offices, the perfect balance between shutting yourself off from those around you, and pretending you are not doing so. Most of the time they are all very civil and responsible adults, really, so Dustin slinking out of his and into Mark's office isn't too uncommon a sight and no one is paying attention as he pulls the door shut and it closes with a faint 'snick'. Good, hopefully no one will have noticed how he's holding himself carefully hunched over and didn't actually slink but more, like, shuffle awkwardly and painfully.
"Mark." And Dustin's voice may be a little squeaky, but really, you'd have to know him very well to tell.
Mark 'our most revered, beloved and feared overlord' Zuckerberg isn't looking up from the two screens in front of him and his fingers keep flitting over the keyboard. Anyone else might think Mark is wired in and can't hear him, but Dustin knows Mark better than most people, is one of his closest friends, by now maybe his best friend, and he knows that it's not so much that Mark can't hear you when he's wired in, he just doesn't want to hear you.
"Mark," Dustin raises his voice just enough to show his unwillingness to be ignored, i.e. that he's stubborn enough to keep this up until one of them snaps, and that one will not be him. Then he squirms and remembers the trouble he's in. It's not that Dustin can't catch a hint, it's that he kind of really needs to talk to Mark. Or, well, someone who can give him advice of the personal kind, and Mark is his only option right now. Which, now that he's really thinking about it, yeah, Dustin is doomed.
"Ma-ah-ark?"
Dustin can keep doing this for- oh, huh, look at that, earplugs. Oops. Oh well, that can be remedied.
He pulls one hand from where it's been stuffed into his pants pocket and curled into a fist, the bunched fabric conveniently hiding his flagging-but-not-quite-gone hard-on, and thinks about waving it in front of Mark's eyes for a moment. Dustin has spent a lot of time carefully cultivating and tending to the rumor that looks might not kill, but getting between Mark and the computer he's focused on can give you second-degree burns, and it is a glass office, so he has to keep up appearances. He hooks a finger around the cable dangling in front of Mark's chest instead, tugs, and watches Mark resurface from the Matrix as his hands still and he turns his head to look at Dustin with his best impression of the disgruntled reptile glare.
"Dustin."
"Mark, hey, how's it going?" Smooth, Moskovitz, real smooth.
Mark's eyes narrow as he properly looks at Dustin. Whatever he sees there, Dustin doesn't want to now.
"You sound weird. Are you okay? If you are sick you should get home to you don't infect anyone else."
Dustin forces a smile at Mark, which probably comes out somewhere between painful and embarrassed, because, blunt as it may be, this is Mark showing the socially accepted reaction of worry, and that should be encouraged.
"No, I'm not sick, well, exactly, but don't worry, I'm not posing a threat to your ability to work by breathing onto you, I'm just. I. I need some advice?"
"If it's itchy, you should see a doctor."
Clearly Mark's already done being a decent human being. Dustin's really not in the mood to listen to him dick around though.
"No, Mark, this is serious. I was. Uhm, I really don't want to tell you this, but I don't know who else to, shit, don't look like that, I didn't do anything bad, well, not badbad. Okay, this will be kinda awkward to explain, but I. And Chris. We were. And then I," Dustin stops fumbling his way through what happened as Mark's eyes widen and he takes in Dustin's flushed face, the way he's curling into himself, and keeps shifting uncomfortably on his feet, hands balled in his pockets and very carefully keeping themselves and the fabric from touching his groin.
Dustin can see Mark swallow, then his eyes snap back up and stare at something horribly interesting left from Dustin's shoulder.
"Whatever this is about, I don't want to know, it's none of my business, and the only advice I have is that you should talk to Chris and maybe really see a doctor. "
"Wait, no, ugh, Mark, I said it's not-"
"I don't want to know."
"Come on, you are my friend, I need some-"
"But not from me."
"Fuck, Mark I need some relationship advice here!"
"Then I'm really not the person you should be asking!" Mark is so dumbfounded by this that he forgets to focus on the fascinating something-or-other behind Dustin and directly looks at him instead.
"Yes, especially you." Dustin takes a deep breath and starts to just talk over Mark's attempts to get him to shut up. "We all know it took a while, and we all suffered until you got your shit together, but now you and Wardo have a well-functioning, happy, healthy long-distance relationship, and I'm trying to have the same with Chris, but it's not easy, and you have to give me some advice here, because I don't want to spend years being miserable and suffer from blue balls until we figure it out by ourselves. So, when you and Wardo sext - don't deny it, you leave your phone lying around, and I put it back as soon as I realized what was going on, so no need to threaten to fire me - when you sext, what's the stance on using the word 'cum'?"
Dustin breathes heavily now, and he looks at Mark, half expectantly, half scared (because there are some things he really does not want to know about his friends).
Mark glares at him, his brows pulled down disapprovingly in a stony gorilla face, color high on his cheeks.
"This is none of your business."
"Blue balls, Mark! I am suffering here! We were, you know, and then he asked 'Did you just write 'im about 2 cum'?, and. I ruined the mood, he said! And that this might have been a mistake! He said he needed to think some things through, and we'd talk later! What do I do, Mark?"
"Aside from the fact that apparently you were sexting while at work this is still none of my business."
"Please? I'm dying here, man! Don't tell me you don't habitually give up spelling and grammar in favor of using the simpler, faster language of our generation and had to convince Wardo of the advantages of internet speak, I mean, I love the man, but he's even more obsessed with keeping up appearances and looking good than Chris, and Chris is doing PR for a living, but sexting is supposed to be as incoherent as real sex talk, right, everybody looks ridiculous during sex, and right now Chris isn't talking to me at all, sex or no sex, email, text, skype, he is ignoring me, and, please, Mark, share your wisdom, tell me the secret to a healthy sext life, please?"
Dustin's desperate here, okay, this will not do, and he's gonna humiliate himself and beg Mark for help as long as he has to in order to find out how to fix this.
So he's giving Mark his best puppy dog eyes. They work every time (pity Chris is currently not looking at him).
Mark sighs.
Every. Time.
"Grovel."
"O… kay? I can do that. No, wait, I can't. He's ignoring me, remember? He's-"
"Grovel. Send flowers. Send letters or postcards or telegrams, something he can't just click away. …Don't fly over, that's pressuring. Don't tell him he's being ridiculous, that sometimes one more letter does make all the difference, or that there's something wrong with his priorities, that's not what he should be thinking about at that time, and how come he's allowed to interrupt sex for spelling but you don't get to think about code, apparently it's not the same thing at all. And accept that you will have to waste valuable time typing properly."
Mark is looking at that point to Dustin's left again, but that's all right, Dustin can still grin at him. Mark's a great friend, Dustin had known he'd help him. Well, and that if Chris and Dustin had that problem now, then Wardo and Mark must have had it too. Those two collected problems and complications like pokemon, gotta catch them all.
"And flowers by the bouquet, not whole flower shops. Also, no singing telegrams."
Dustin pulls Mark into a quick surprise hug. The manly half-hug reserved for your friends, that tells them 'dude, I love you', but in an entirely non-bromantic way.
"Thanks , man! I owe you for this, seriously. You might just have saved my life."
He holds on for a moment and then releases Mark, who suffered through the physical contact stoically and unresponsively, like he always does when it's Dustin doing the touching (he's seen people get fired for something like this). Deciding to leave both of them with what's left of their dignity, he walks over to the door, which is a lot easier now that the conversation has completely killed his hard-on, and is already trying to think up battle plans when Mark calls him back.
"Dustin."
Well, 'calls'. Deadpans.
Dustin turns around and sees something flying at him. He flails (stupid glass windows), tries to not get hit in the face by what Mark's just thrown at him and catch it instead, and then looks down at the book he's now holding in his hands that Mark must have kept in a drawer of his desk. A copy of the Oxford Dictionary. He looks back up.
"Use it. Trust me."
Then the corner of Mark's mouth lifts, mockingly, and he turns back to his work, attention on his screens and typing blindly.
Dustin is not fooled though. Mark pretty much just admitted he kept a dictionary, ink and paper, in his desk, for the sole purpose of sexing up Wardo. He thumbs through the paperback, looking for dog-eared pages, as he walks back to his own office. He's got plans to make.
Challenge
Name five of your favourite kinks in fic, and one turn-off, and write for each a fic of at least 100 words. Fandom(s) are up to you. Kinks don't necessarily have to be sexual, if you are a gen fan write six gen ficlets. (And if you don't mind, link me. I'm curious.)
Author: des_pudels_kern
Fandom: The Social Network
Pairing, Characters: Mark (implied Eduardo/Mark), Dustin (implied Chris/Dustin)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Any characters mentioned here belong to their respective creators; the names of any real people mentioned refer to fictionalised versions of these people. No money is made and no offense intended.
Length: 1776 words
Summary: Dustin has a problem with this long-distance relationship thing. But it's okay, he's sure Mark can help him.
Author's Note: Part of the Five kinks and one turn-off fic challenge I set myself after a discussion on tsn-km-gather about kinks here, asking for, wait for it, people's favourite kinks in fic and a turn-off. My turn-offs include humiliation, and anything along the lines of one character saying/thinking how the other is slutty/like a good little slut/like a girl, but a huge personal pet peeve and an instant turn-off is 'cum'.
My list:
Kinks, in no particular order:
1. h/c (t.b.a.)
2. outdoor sex (t.b.a.)
3. Happy sex (m/m, fandom-neutral as no names are give, but it works well with Harvard-era TSN, if you are so inclined, R)
4. Dubcon (I'll cheat here and use the WIP I'm writing on the kink meme - still anon, though, but maybe this'll get me to sit down and work on an update)
5. Sex heavy on detailed sensual descriptions (t.b.a.)
Turn-off:
'Cum' (here)
Comments much appreciated, including concrit (as long as it's polite).
Written: June 2011
Turn-off: 'cum'
Dustin slinks into the office Mark uses these days.
An open floor is nice and all, but various instances of private problems aired in front of programmers, interns, and , once, an investor (and his translator, who even did voices as she passed on what was being ye-uh, said), so they are compromising and have put the biggest drama-magnets into glass offices, the perfect balance between shutting yourself off from those around you, and pretending you are not doing so. Most of the time they are all very civil and responsible adults, really, so Dustin slinking out of his and into Mark's office isn't too uncommon a sight and no one is paying attention as he pulls the door shut and it closes with a faint 'snick'. Good, hopefully no one will have noticed how he's holding himself carefully hunched over and didn't actually slink but more, like, shuffle awkwardly and painfully.
"Mark." And Dustin's voice may be a little squeaky, but really, you'd have to know him very well to tell.
Mark 'our most revered, beloved and feared overlord' Zuckerberg isn't looking up from the two screens in front of him and his fingers keep flitting over the keyboard. Anyone else might think Mark is wired in and can't hear him, but Dustin knows Mark better than most people, is one of his closest friends, by now maybe his best friend, and he knows that it's not so much that Mark can't hear you when he's wired in, he just doesn't want to hear you.
"Mark," Dustin raises his voice just enough to show his unwillingness to be ignored, i.e. that he's stubborn enough to keep this up until one of them snaps, and that one will not be him. Then he squirms and remembers the trouble he's in. It's not that Dustin can't catch a hint, it's that he kind of really needs to talk to Mark. Or, well, someone who can give him advice of the personal kind, and Mark is his only option right now. Which, now that he's really thinking about it, yeah, Dustin is doomed.
"Ma-ah-ark?"
Dustin can keep doing this for- oh, huh, look at that, earplugs. Oops. Oh well, that can be remedied.
He pulls one hand from where it's been stuffed into his pants pocket and curled into a fist, the bunched fabric conveniently hiding his flagging-but-not-quite-gone hard-on, and thinks about waving it in front of Mark's eyes for a moment. Dustin has spent a lot of time carefully cultivating and tending to the rumor that looks might not kill, but getting between Mark and the computer he's focused on can give you second-degree burns, and it is a glass office, so he has to keep up appearances. He hooks a finger around the cable dangling in front of Mark's chest instead, tugs, and watches Mark resurface from the Matrix as his hands still and he turns his head to look at Dustin with his best impression of the disgruntled reptile glare.
"Dustin."
"Mark, hey, how's it going?" Smooth, Moskovitz, real smooth.
Mark's eyes narrow as he properly looks at Dustin. Whatever he sees there, Dustin doesn't want to now.
"You sound weird. Are you okay? If you are sick you should get home to you don't infect anyone else."
Dustin forces a smile at Mark, which probably comes out somewhere between painful and embarrassed, because, blunt as it may be, this is Mark showing the socially accepted reaction of worry, and that should be encouraged.
"No, I'm not sick, well, exactly, but don't worry, I'm not posing a threat to your ability to work by breathing onto you, I'm just. I. I need some advice?"
"If it's itchy, you should see a doctor."
Clearly Mark's already done being a decent human being. Dustin's really not in the mood to listen to him dick around though.
"No, Mark, this is serious. I was. Uhm, I really don't want to tell you this, but I don't know who else to, shit, don't look like that, I didn't do anything bad, well, not badbad. Okay, this will be kinda awkward to explain, but I. And Chris. We were. And then I," Dustin stops fumbling his way through what happened as Mark's eyes widen and he takes in Dustin's flushed face, the way he's curling into himself, and keeps shifting uncomfortably on his feet, hands balled in his pockets and very carefully keeping themselves and the fabric from touching his groin.
Dustin can see Mark swallow, then his eyes snap back up and stare at something horribly interesting left from Dustin's shoulder.
"Whatever this is about, I don't want to know, it's none of my business, and the only advice I have is that you should talk to Chris and maybe really see a doctor. "
"Wait, no, ugh, Mark, I said it's not-"
"I don't want to know."
"Come on, you are my friend, I need some-"
"But not from me."
"Fuck, Mark I need some relationship advice here!"
"Then I'm really not the person you should be asking!" Mark is so dumbfounded by this that he forgets to focus on the fascinating something-or-other behind Dustin and directly looks at him instead.
"Yes, especially you." Dustin takes a deep breath and starts to just talk over Mark's attempts to get him to shut up. "We all know it took a while, and we all suffered until you got your shit together, but now you and Wardo have a well-functioning, happy, healthy long-distance relationship, and I'm trying to have the same with Chris, but it's not easy, and you have to give me some advice here, because I don't want to spend years being miserable and suffer from blue balls until we figure it out by ourselves. So, when you and Wardo sext - don't deny it, you leave your phone lying around, and I put it back as soon as I realized what was going on, so no need to threaten to fire me - when you sext, what's the stance on using the word 'cum'?"
Dustin breathes heavily now, and he looks at Mark, half expectantly, half scared (because there are some things he really does not want to know about his friends).
Mark glares at him, his brows pulled down disapprovingly in a stony gorilla face, color high on his cheeks.
"This is none of your business."
"Blue balls, Mark! I am suffering here! We were, you know, and then he asked 'Did you just write 'im about 2 cum'?, and. I ruined the mood, he said! And that this might have been a mistake! He said he needed to think some things through, and we'd talk later! What do I do, Mark?"
"Aside from the fact that apparently you were sexting while at work this is still none of my business."
"Please? I'm dying here, man! Don't tell me you don't habitually give up spelling and grammar in favor of using the simpler, faster language of our generation and had to convince Wardo of the advantages of internet speak, I mean, I love the man, but he's even more obsessed with keeping up appearances and looking good than Chris, and Chris is doing PR for a living, but sexting is supposed to be as incoherent as real sex talk, right, everybody looks ridiculous during sex, and right now Chris isn't talking to me at all, sex or no sex, email, text, skype, he is ignoring me, and, please, Mark, share your wisdom, tell me the secret to a healthy sext life, please?"
Dustin's desperate here, okay, this will not do, and he's gonna humiliate himself and beg Mark for help as long as he has to in order to find out how to fix this.
So he's giving Mark his best puppy dog eyes. They work every time (pity Chris is currently not looking at him).
Mark sighs.
Every. Time.
"Grovel."
"O… kay? I can do that. No, wait, I can't. He's ignoring me, remember? He's-"
"Grovel. Send flowers. Send letters or postcards or telegrams, something he can't just click away. …Don't fly over, that's pressuring. Don't tell him he's being ridiculous, that sometimes one more letter does make all the difference, or that there's something wrong with his priorities, that's not what he should be thinking about at that time, and how come he's allowed to interrupt sex for spelling but you don't get to think about code, apparently it's not the same thing at all. And accept that you will have to waste valuable time typing properly."
Mark is looking at that point to Dustin's left again, but that's all right, Dustin can still grin at him. Mark's a great friend, Dustin had known he'd help him. Well, and that if Chris and Dustin had that problem now, then Wardo and Mark must have had it too. Those two collected problems and complications like pokemon, gotta catch them all.
"And flowers by the bouquet, not whole flower shops. Also, no singing telegrams."
Dustin pulls Mark into a quick surprise hug. The manly half-hug reserved for your friends, that tells them 'dude, I love you', but in an entirely non-bromantic way.
"Thanks , man! I owe you for this, seriously. You might just have saved my life."
He holds on for a moment and then releases Mark, who suffered through the physical contact stoically and unresponsively, like he always does when it's Dustin doing the touching (he's seen people get fired for something like this). Deciding to leave both of them with what's left of their dignity, he walks over to the door, which is a lot easier now that the conversation has completely killed his hard-on, and is already trying to think up battle plans when Mark calls him back.
"Dustin."
Well, 'calls'. Deadpans.
Dustin turns around and sees something flying at him. He flails (stupid glass windows), tries to not get hit in the face by what Mark's just thrown at him and catch it instead, and then looks down at the book he's now holding in his hands that Mark must have kept in a drawer of his desk. A copy of the Oxford Dictionary. He looks back up.
"Use it. Trust me."
Then the corner of Mark's mouth lifts, mockingly, and he turns back to his work, attention on his screens and typing blindly.
Dustin is not fooled though. Mark pretty much just admitted he kept a dictionary, ink and paper, in his desk, for the sole purpose of sexing up Wardo. He thumbs through the paperback, looking for dog-eared pages, as he walks back to his own office. He's got plans to make.
Challenge
Name five of your favourite kinks in fic, and one turn-off, and write for each a fic of at least 100 words. Fandom(s) are up to you. Kinks don't necessarily have to be sexual, if you are a gen fan write six gen ficlets. (And if you don't mind, link me. I'm curious.)