[PART TWO] - CLOSED

[zuckonitkinkeme]

THE SOCIAL NETWORK KINK MEME

ASK THE MODS * FAQ * DISCUSSION * RESEARCH * FILL LIST * PART ONE * PART ONE (OVERFLOW)

GENERAL RULES;

♥ post requests and responses in the comments to this post

Comments

Fill Part Two: The Aftermath of Shattered Perception (1/?) {Moving into NSFW}

[slasher48]

That was before. Before, Eduardo realizes now, was made up of delusions and half-lies to himself, because all Mark’s doing is checking his fucking e-mail, fingertips pressing all the right buttons on his phone, not even looking up as he scoffs at Eduardo’s questions about the seriousness of what might be in his inbox, but Eduardo is losing it. His fingers. Just, the way they move; and he must not be as good as he thought at being discreet about his frustration, because the fourth time he shifts on the sofa, Mark finally does look at him, fond exasperation (his default expression half the time around Eduardo) on his face.

“You make the most noise watching a movie of probably anyone I’ve ever met, Wardo. Can you just chill for a second so I can reply to this last one, or is my attention really always your premier need?”

“C’mon, Mark. You’ve got to be forgetting about Dustin. He went on a dino rampage over Jurassic Park three times.”

He tries to tease back (pointedly ignoring the last part of that statement), but it must show on his face, what he’s still feeling, because Mark just huffs out a sigh and tosses his phone on the pile his messenger bag, laptop case, and hoodie makes near the end of the sofa, turning to him with the same mock-annoyed expression as before.

“I’m sorry, Mark, I know I’ve been kind of off today. Just stressed, I guess.” Eduardo’s shoulders rise and fall in a shrug with far less in it than Mark’s have ever had, and Mark’s eyebrows furrow as his lips pout in this far too endearing for Eduardo’s sanity kind of way; he’s worried, and that’s enough as it is to get Eduardo’s stomach twisting with this warmth he can’t seem to keep out of his system around Mark.

“Stressed. Huh. Okay then,” and Mark nods, as if he was having a debate with himself by the power of those four words and has now chosen a side, then reaches out and: first, clicks the DVD back to its menu, second, grabs Eduardo’s wrist and tugs him. Eduardo’s tongue gets caught, too big for his mouth, and he just goes with Mark’s motion, shifting and almost falling against Mark’s chest, steadied only by those quick and dexterous hands.

And fuck, he should not think, the way he shouldn’t ever think, about how Mark’s hands are around his wrist and stabilizing him at the shoulder, or else stressed is going to become a serious understatement for his emotions. A lying understatement, that is.

It’s only a second, but he gets to feel Mark’s breath before Mark sits him up, cradling him a little, and fuck, those’re his hips too, pressed flush up against Eduardo’s ass, nestled right there.

Eduardo doesn’t have more than a second to focus on that though, because then Mark’s fingers are putting all that skill and intent they seem to possess on their own, separate from him, to work on his body. His shoulders are suddenly unlocking and sliding into a state of loose detachment from the rest of his tension, as Mark works his fingertips deep into the knots, awkward in his indecision but obviously trying to do something with this action to soothe Eduardo.

And maybe he’s a pervert, because he doesn’t actually give a fuck what Mark wants to do with it, so long as he keeps doing it, his wrists cracking a little from disuse when he really digs into Eduardo’s shoulders, fingers spreading out over his back and coaxing away stiffness he wasn’t even aware was there.

He thinks maybe a few minutes ago he would have been able to stop himself doing what he does, but not now, not when Mark finds the perfect place to dig the heels of his hands in and rub until Eduardo is practically liquid. Liquid want, liquid lust, a melted candle sham of a man who hasn't the power to prevent it when he slumps against his best friend’s chest and moans loud enough to echo in his living room.