[PART SEVEN] - CLOSED
quick note; GUYS. please be aware that if you posted a prompt in part six and it is now screened, i have posted them to the post already - so that you guys don't have to. thanks for being patient and making the fill-a-thon such a success
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IDK, I am just in a funk and I want OTP cuddling, because it is my fave. please make it so, meme.
(also, how awesome am I at taking breaks from this kink meme? so awesome, obviously!)
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(hee, I saw! I'm holding off on reading it because I'm writing, and it always throws me off to read anything I'm really into while I've hit a steady writing pace. I'll probably read it at 2:30 am again, the better to flail incoherently at you! :D)
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Also, a disclaimer: because it is me, there will be lots of Sean&Eduardo bonding, even though it is M/E endgame. Sorry. *facepalms*
---
After Mark, after 0.03%, after almost striking his first human being, after losing his part in their company, what he’d thought they were building together, Eduardo goes for a drink. He needs it, so he has two, then another, balancing it with a half-eaten dinner. And then he stops back at the house to pick up a light summer coat he’d left on his last trip.
He doesn’t really need that jacket but he wants it, doesn’t want to leave any trace of himself here in this place. But no one’s at the house, maybe most of them don’t even live there anymore, or they’re all at the office he’s just left, an hour or-two, two and a half hours ago. And he can’t wait, he won’t. He feels, in this instant, that he’ll never want to visit the whole of Northern California ever again. He feels like making that promise, and keeping it.
It’s on the way back to the freeway, the taxi cutting through some side streets, that he sees Sean Parker’s car - it’s unmistakably Sean’s, though he’d seen it only once. There’s that stupid bumper sticker and sharp indent on the driver side door. It’s parked in front of a sorority house (unsurprising) and next to a police car (even less so). He can see flashlights sweeping the next house down.
He doesn’t, honestly, intend to tell the driver to stop when he feels the words come out of his mouth. But then he picks up his phone, and dials, and curses when he pictures Parker frowning at his number on the screen, at whatever patronizing little nickname that had likely been paired with it.
He’s cursing when he tells the driver to wait and storms up to the door and straight through, not bothering to try pounding on it over the racket inside.
It’s equally pointless to yell Sean’s name in the crowd, so he makes his way through the rooms until the motherfucker is in front of him, red eyed and high as fuck, with what looks like coke on some co-ed’s stomach and between her tits.
Naturally, he reacts to this by screaming, "Are you insane?", with some understandable flailing, and when Sean’s eyes dart up to him, startled and wide, he manages to make it quieter but more firm and deliberate. "Cops are right next door, I am not kidding."
Which is when they both hear the volume drop ominously the next room over, rush to brush the evidence off the girl’s stomach, and then turn to greet some very unamused police officers.
Because that’s how Eduardo’s life works out.
*
"You are a goddamned maniac," Sean says, with deep admiration, as they’re tucked into back of a police vehicle.
Eduardo decides to just rest his head in his hands for a while. "Please shut the fuck up."
*
It takes quite some time to be booked, it turns out, and then when they get an option for a call Sean says, "We-" and actually stutters, for once knocked completely out of his element. "We need to tell Mark."
"You need to tell Mark," Eduardo interjects, a little snidely, but he thinks he’s earned that.
"Come on, Saverin, you know he wouldn’t-" Sean starts, and Eduardo cuts him off to the quick with,
"I really don’t."
Which Sean looks like he’d like to protest further -- but as he’s a little late to whole coming apart at the seams deal, he won’t reach that icy calm bottom any time soon. Eduardo’s become an intimate resident.
Eduardo states, simply, "We have come to a point where you are going to have accept that I do have some contacts that are infinitely superior to yours," and takes the phone from Sean’s hand.
This would be where he calls the law firm his father has on retainer and confirms that they’ll be in contact with his father, who will have a friend that can put a word in with the assistant district attorney.
He always has a friend. This is what his father does.
*
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Later, when they’re waiting on a splinter ridden bench, Sean says, sheepishly, "So I was a little rude," rubbing at his bloodshot eyes.
"Let’s not talk about it," Eduardo says, ignoring the twinge in his stomach.
"Do you know how long it will take before we get bailed out?"
"Let’s find out in silence."
*
"I can’t believe you came for me," Sean bursts out, like he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
"And I’ve been regretting it every minute since."
"No, I’m serious," Sean says in a completely alien tone that might be something approaching sincerity, "that was amazing."
"It didn’t do any good," Eduardo points out, which Sean digests for a second before proclaiming,
"Well, it’s the thought that counts."
This earns him a skeptical look, as Eduardo has deep suspicions that this is a belief Sean has never, ever held, so Sean ventures, "I appreciate the moral support," which is slightly more believable.
"I think you mean immoral support."
"That was totally moral," objects Sean. "You’re like my knight in shining armor. But in a cheap suit."
"I can still hit you in here."
"Those dudes would separate us and then you couldn’t protect me."
And because Sean (like always, and this is why he’s a complete and utter asshole) is a little right, the only reply Eduardo manages is, "Don’t make me test that theory."
*
"It was possibly a little extreme," Sean finally blurts out a while later, ruining a game of I-Spy that had been Eduardo’s mostly sarcastic suggestion, not having actually played it before. "The dickishness."
"Don’t," Eduardo snaps. He doesn’t want to hear it, he can’t, not from the wrong person.
"He probably wouldn’t have done it if not for the money," Sean adds, after they’ve been quiet a bit, just shifting their weight around.
Like the thought was going to make him feel oh so much better. "Well then, that’s a relief."
Sean shoots him this hurt look, which is ridiculous, but Eduardo doesn’t know what Mark said to him on the phone, only that it stripped off another layer of gloss and he’s been curling into himself a bit since.
They play another round of I-Spy, and then Word Chain, and then Sean says, casually, "Look, I’m not fucking him or anything."
"Don’t do me any favors."
Sean hisses, aghast, startling Eduardo into banging his elbow. "Are you seriously going to sit there in a straight up real life police station after being arrested with me for possession and deny you didn’t want a taste of Zuckerberg’s dick?"
"Just because Mark’s now dubbed you useless as well doesn’t mean I’ve adopted you," Eduardo says sharply, rubbing his elbow, and tries to hates himself for noticing the flinch in Sean’s eyes, for somewhat, a little, giving a shit. Except he’s seen the alternative tonight and he doesn’t want to be that person, ever, who just sits there, not moved to action at another’s pain.
So he leans his head back against the wall, slaps a hand over face, and takes a deep breath.
"Maybe I wanted some dick," he admits, and allows himself a bittersweet smile at Sean’s cackle.
*
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"Let’s find out in silence."
I LOVE YOUR EDUARDO TO PIECES.
and the hint of sean angst, because, duh. fantasticccc
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This is kind of the perfect place for Sean angst, because there's that scene at the party with the cops and on the phone with Mark where he's all vulnerable and a bit lost.
That's why I've actually been kicking around various versions of "eduardo finds himself coming to sean's rescue at the drug arrest" ever since I started writing my first fic -- all of them Sean/Eduardo, actually, so now I feel like Eduardo's cheating lol lol. But this prompt gave me the first short and simple idea that wouldn't take forever to write, so sorry Sean, you get the boot! ;)
maybe someday I'll come back to the situation and explore the Sean angst. Like what if Mark was like, "fuuuuu I'm not helping" and Sean calls Wardo to make paranoid accusations and then Wardo ends up saving the day. and stuff. and they go create Twitter together while both battling failure issues.
or maybe I will just be lazy and prompt it for someone else. (this is probably what will happen)
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I'm glad you like it. I'll try to get this finished quick. There are just a couple sections that are giving me trouble...
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why are you stopping?
don't stop
I want
no
I NEED MORE
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It’s 9 am when they leave the station, squinting at the natural sunlight and bumping into each other, trash bins, and helpful metal signs directed at more law-abiding citizens.
A desperate, near all-consuming cry for sleep is buzzing in his brain and weighing down his feet. He feels strongly that he might actually be capable of shanking someone for a bed, except then he’d have to go back in there, and to this Sean whole-heartedly agrees.
As his next thought is the generous notion that this means Sean cannot be all bad, when Eduardo sees Mark he quite logically assumes that he’s imagined him.
Mark’s shoulders are hunched over, neckline dragged down by hands in his pockets. He’s still there when Eduardo pokes him and says, dully, "I thought it would be Dustin."
"No. I just-" Mark appears to have no idea what he’s doing there, so that makes two of them. "I wanted to."
"You wanted to," Eduardo echoes.
Mark nods in that confident, economical way that used to make Eduardo want to climb into his lap and kiss him slow and deep, even in the face of almost-certain chair related injuries, and now makes him want to still do that, too, but also creates a sharp desire to gouge out Mark’s too bright eyes after. "It was a relatively straightforward process," he says, "I have that kind of money in my account now. Just a matter of confirming my identity with the bank."
Mark’s gaze jumps towards Sean and then back again, tone turning more clipped, like that should even be possible. "Your removal from the masthead is a lucky break for us. Sean’s involvement will be bad enough."
It’s too much to deal with after spending that many hours keyed up on adrenaline and packed like a sardine onto some profoundly uncomfortable furniture. He’s been fucking hazed and accused, publically, of animal cruelty, and but it wasn’t like actual real life, with soul chilling real life consequences. If Palo Alto is a picture of life after college, Eduardo should start thinking of going for his Masters.
"Is that really Mark?" Sean faux-whispers loudly in his ear, and Eduardo replies, conversationally, "Do you think I look like PhD material?"
Mark is forcing out, stilted, "You can come to my place, I have a-"
When Sean cuts him off, "Nah, he’s coming to mine."
Not that he asked, of course, but as Eduardo had assumed he had a place to stay, assuming-certain things, well, then he hadn’t planned for a hotel room. And as there’s no way in hell Eduardo’s going anywhere with Mark, ever again, he jumps in, flatly,
"That’s right, I am."
*
Mark shows up with bagels at noon and lets himself in.
He’s watching Eduardo’s twitching, uncomfortably rousing body when Eduardo opens his eyes and starts violently, rolling off his side of the bed.
(The couch was-unmentionable. There were things on that couch that he still wishes he could unsee.)
"Did you know you kick, you fucker," he says darkly, pulling himself up with his hands to reach across the mattress and shove at Sean’s back, receiving a pained groan in return.
"I brought bagels," Mark says and holds up a plain white bag.
"He’s stupid in love with you," Sean informs them.
It’s muffled by a face full of comforter but clear enough that he can see Mark flinch as he absorbs the hit himself. It knocks the wind out of him, and he honestly, embarrassingly, gasps.
"Great, I can always look more pathetic, why stop now," Eduardo sighs at the same time as Mark says, "I think it’s safe to say that recent events have rendered my feelings irrelevant," upon which the wind he thought had been knocked out crawls up to twist around his heart and lurches.
"oh god," Eduardo says sickly, "that makes it even worse," and - when Mark gives him that look like ‘I am familiar with all of those words but I have no idea what you’re saying' - "I can’t be here."
"Do I have to come with you now?" Sean moans piteously from his precarious, prone position on the edge of the bed.
"No," he says, horrified.
And then waits at the curb for Sean to stumble out, also still in yesterday’s clothes but clutching two fresh t-shirts. There are sunglasses over his eyes and he looks like he slept in a ditch.
Eduardo really, sincerely, does not want to look in a mirror.
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