fic: and we won't get our deposit back (mark/eduardo, prompt 12)
Title: and we won't get our deposit back
>Recipient: propercasing
Prompt Number: 12
Characters/Pairings: Eduardo/Mark, Chris, Dustin, The Saverins
Rating/Warnings: PG 13 for language, slight crack at times.
Word Count: ~2400
Disclaimer: This fanwork is based on fictional representations of the characters in The Social Network; I make no claims of ownership of the characters or concepts.
Summary: Eduardo takes Mark home to Miami for spring break and his mother thinks they're dating.
Notes: I tried to make Mark fail at feelings but I'm not sure I managed. Because I suck at many things such as research, I didn't even bother to look up how long is springbreak in the US so whatever. Let's all assume it's two weeks! I really hope you enjoy this, though. Yay for awkward boys and Harvard Era feels :)
“Why are you packing rollerblades?”
“We’re going to Miami, d’oh! Everyone skates in their bikinis and denim shorts in Miami. Haven’t you ever played Vice City?”
Mark shakes his head because Dustin has just used d’oh in a sentence and quoted a video game as a valid reference. It isn’t even remotely surprising coming from Dustin, to be honest. He shoves another spoonful of tuna down his throat while his code compiles. “Are you packing a matching Speedo, too?”
Chris snorts. Dustin gapes “In your dreams, Marky Mark! You should worry about your Speedos, though. When are you going to pack?”
“Later.” is all Mark says before turning back to his laptop.
Somehow later becomes too late and Mark sprints from one side of the suite to the other, trying to find fresh underwear and clean hoodies. Eduardo sighs and tries to fold the clothes Mark has already thrown haphazardly in his suitcase. The taxi they’re taking to the airport has been honking for the past five minutes.
It turns out that Miami does look like the background of Vice City enough so that Dustin would fit in, were it not for his paleness and propensity to stare at every bare midriff that crosses their path. Eduardo smiles at his friends and shows them to his old high school hang outs and to the beach. Chris is thriving in the sun, happy to be in a hot place, no matter how much sunscreen he needs to apply on himself before leaving their apartment. Mark likes Miami just fine and is glad that, for once, no one glares at his flip flops.
When Eduardo had first invited them to his parents’ house for spring break, Dustin had been the one to refuse the offer (Seriously, Wardo, we can’t crash at your parent’s. This is spring break we’re talking about, we need to rent a place and then we need to misbehave, get laid, and make everything to make sure we never get the deposit back. ) but it didn’t take long for them to arrange a trip that fit Dustin’s requests.
In the end, Chris is the only one that gets laid, but the guy takes them all out for breakfast the next day and introduces them to some of his friends and Dustin definitely gets to at least make out with a hot girl (I’m a gentleman of Harvard, that’s why I didn’t pressure her, okay? It’ll happen when it happens). They end up having a double date. Mark and Eduardo don’t have such luck, but they seem unfazed by it.
Because their parents would kill them if they didn’t go back to their homes for at least a couple of days, Dustin and Chris pack their bags and share a ride to the airport. Mark goes to Wardo’s childhood home for the rest of their break. It’s a lovely villa with palm trees and other trees Mark has no idea what they’re called, but he knows they are tall and nice and probably expensive. Actually, that’s the way Mark feels about the rest of the house, he doesn’t know why someone would paint their house a pale peach color or why they’d have columns or even a Jacuzzi next to a pool long enough to host official competitions, but it is a nice house and he’s there for free, so whatever. He knew Wardo’s parents were loaded.
Mrs. Saverin is a woman with a sweet face and even sweeter demeanor. She looks impossibly fresh and knowing, and were Mark to be more immature, disrespectful or plainly Dustin-like, he would think of her as a MILF. But he is definitely not any of those things -okay, he is, but this is Wardo’s mom, so, boundaries.
She hugs Mark and tells him she’s ecstatic to meet him (I had started to think you didn’t exist and Edu had invented you so I would get off his back. It’s so nice of you to join us. Your parents must be upset you are not going to their place but you can both make it up and go next break, right? Have you tried feijoada? We made sure the pool was clean for you, but if you want to go to the beach Edu can take the car, it’ll be okay.) and is all in all exuberant and warm. Mark adores her immediately, but makes sure to hide it.
Mr. Saverin is not home when they get there, so Wardo takes their bags back to the guest house (We thought you might like the privacy) and collapses on one of the beds.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love being home. It’s just… family. It’s a bit exhausting.”
“I know. Thanks for letting me stay here and watch you get exhausted instead of going home to be ambushed by my very exhausting family.”
Mark nudges Wardo’s leg so he can plop down next to him on the bed. They decide to crash on the master bedroom because it has the flatscreen TV and the best mattress. It’s not like they sleep naked, anyway. Though Mark wouldn’t really mind, he’s got a dick too so there’s no reason it’d be awkward. Okay, it’d probably be awkward, but it’s not the case, so.
Brazilian breakfasts are amazing. They include black coffee, yoghurt, cereal and so many fruits it looks like someone puked rainbows on the table. Except, you know, it looks delicious as opposed to disgusting. The table is next to the pool and by the time Mark has had enough coffee to resemble a human being and make polite conversation with Mrs Saverin -because mothers are on a whole other realm of existence, and one is never pretentious, rude or assholey in any way to a mother, much less a Jewish one at that and Mark knows this- Eduardo is doing some laps. It’s 11 am and the sun is high and Wardo’s skin glistens with a thousand droplets of chlorinated water. Wardo wears a Speedo instead of the trunks he had taken to the beach, but it doesn’t look ironic or ridiculous on him. It’s quite a sight.
Mr. Saverin comes back from a business trip that afternoon and he looks tired and worried. It fits the mental image Mark’s made of the man, but if he thinks Mr. Saverin’s handshake is a bit too forceful and stern, he doesn’t mention it. Mrs. Saverin (Please call me Flor, you’re practically part of the family now.) tells Mark they should make a trip to the mall because she needs to pick up some dry-cleaning and wouldn’t it be lovely if he could get some presents for his sisters? Mark knows better than trying to refuse a mother, so he just waves at Eduardo and goes to the car.
Flor seems nervous and constantly fiddles with the rear mirror. She asks Mark to please get her sunglasses from her bag while they’re at a traffic light. Mark tries not to snoop around her bag, but it’s kind of difficult when he needs to find something in it. They pick up a dress and a couple of suits from the dry cleaner’s and end up getting some random paraphernalia with Miami Beach emblazoned on it for the Zuckerberg clan. It ends up taking half a pint of ice-cream for Wardo’s mom to turn to Mark and, looking sheepish, ask how they met.
Mark doesn’t really know why she seems so interested in how he and Wardo met, but tells her about AEPI and Dustin. She nods in all the right places and continues to look nervous.
“And who took the first step?”
Mark frowns, because it’s not like there were lots of steps for them to become best friends. “It was Wardo, I mean, Eduardo, I suppose. He knocked on our dorm door with a couple of be- sodas and a DVD and the rest was history, I guess.”
She smiles “My Edu, always so brave. And I like that you call him Wardo, there’s no need for you to call him Eduardo in front of Mario and me.” She pats his arm lightly. “ And because I’m Brazilian and the legal drinking age in my country is a reasonable 18 years old, I’ll pretend it’s okay that you and Edu were having beers, provided it wasn’t a school night and no one had to drive afterwards.”
Mark smiles back and silently wonders why knocking on someone’s door would be brave. That is, besides the obvious matter of facing potential rejection, or something, because, well, Eduardo. Who in their right mind would reject Eduardo?
The ride back is quiet and peaceful and Mark spends most of it staring out the window at the people having drinks outside of little cafés and going back home from the beach. They’re about to go their separate ways, Mark to the guest house the other side of the pool and Wardo’s mom to the garage when she grabs his hands in hers.
“Edu looks radiant. I know it must be a bit difficult for you two sometimes, but I’m so glad you found each other. I was a bit apprehensive at first, but I saw the way you look at him and a mother knows. I’m really happy that Edu has you, Mark. I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend for my son.” With a last squeeze, she lets his hands go and walks up to the house.
Mark stays there, stunned , for at least five minutes before he realizes maybe he should have said something, but now it’s kind of late.
Wardo is watching TV when Mark gets to their room and he looks a bit embarrassed. Mark sits next to him on the bed and watches the Futurama episode with a bit too much intensity. Wardo, his eyes fixed on the TV, gulps and turns it off.
He turns to look at Mark. “I’m sorry my mom ambushed you today. I would have tried to save you, but my dad wanted to have a talk.”
Mark hums and takes the remote to turn the TV on again. Wardo catches his wrist before he can get to press any button.
“Did… did my mom say or imply anything weird today?”
Mark closes his eyes and bites his lips for a moment. “She… she might have, uh, mentioned something about me being the best boyfriend she could ask for you.”
Wardo drops his wrist in a second and groans, falling back onto the mattress and covering his face with his hands. He’s flushed and Mark can’t help but wonder if Wardo also thinks Mark’s the best he could ask for.
“I’m sorry about that. I swear I never said you were my boyfriend, I never even came out to my parents.” He shudders. “And that was me coming out to you, oh my god.” Wardo shakes his head and his eyes are glassy. “I swear, I knew I would have to tell you sometime, but it’s not… I didn’t think you’d care, it’s just something difficult, okay? And maybe I should have said something when you said it was okay if we crashed on the same bed or when you agreed to come here, but you’re my best friend and I respect you and I swear I never…”
Mark nods. “It’s okay, Wardo, I know. I’m glad you told me.”
Wardo sighs. “I knew that you’d be okay with it, you guys never give Chris any shit about it, but, still. I don’t even know. My father just gave me this speech about how he’s not disappointed but happy for me. And something about him being scared that society will make things hard for me because he always wanted things to be easy and nice. My father, I just… I don’t understand what’s going on. It’s the Twilight Zone in here.”
“I know. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. It’s okay. Calm down.”
He shudders again. “What did my mom say when you told her we weren’t dating?”
Mark lies back and turns his head to look at Wardo.
“I didn’t.”
“What?” Wardo’s frown is huge and Mark just wants to caress his forehead until it goes away.
“She asked me how we met and who took the first step and then she just thanked me for making you happy and left.”
Mark rolls on his side and gives in to his desire to make Wardo stop frowning.
“Do I make you happy, Wardo?”
Wardo bites his lips and nods quietly.
“In that case I think we could pretend it didn’t take your parents telling us it was okay for us to date before we started, you know, dating.”
“What?” The frown is back.
“What you heard. We should start. Dating. Making up for lost time.”
“What?” Wardo is now smiling lightly, half disbelieving, half hopeful.
Mark cups Wardo’s jaw and looks into big, brown eyes. “Now you’re just being dense” he teases, before kissing him.
In the end, because it’s Wardo’s home and not a rented space, they don’t have to pay a deposit for the mattress and its ruined springs. They still don’t tell the Saverins about it because there are such things as decorum and shame and it’s not like the guest house gets a lot of use during the year, anyway. They do more than get laid as Dustin had so elegantly put it before the break, and go back to Boston a couple. As they get out of the plane Mark looks at Wardo, how he belongs everywhere so effortless, how he smiles at Mark like he has eyes for no one else, while some girls that were seated in front of them keep looking back at Wardo and giggling.
In that moment Mark wishes he could hang a sign on Wardo’s front, one that said In a relationship with Mark Zuckerberg so that everyone would know right away to back the fuck off. Hmm, maybe he could code something to make it happen.
>Recipient: propercasing
Prompt Number: 12
Characters/Pairings: Eduardo/Mark, Chris, Dustin, The Saverins
Rating/Warnings: PG 13 for language, slight crack at times.
Word Count: ~2400
Disclaimer: This fanwork is based on fictional representations of the characters in The Social Network; I make no claims of ownership of the characters or concepts.
Summary: Eduardo takes Mark home to Miami for spring break and his mother thinks they're dating.
Notes: I tried to make Mark fail at feelings but I'm not sure I managed. Because I suck at many things such as research, I didn't even bother to look up how long is springbreak in the US so whatever. Let's all assume it's two weeks! I really hope you enjoy this, though. Yay for awkward boys and Harvard Era feels :)
“Why are you packing rollerblades?”
“We’re going to Miami, d’oh! Everyone skates in their bikinis and denim shorts in Miami. Haven’t you ever played Vice City?”
Mark shakes his head because Dustin has just used d’oh in a sentence and quoted a video game as a valid reference. It isn’t even remotely surprising coming from Dustin, to be honest. He shoves another spoonful of tuna down his throat while his code compiles. “Are you packing a matching Speedo, too?”
Chris snorts. Dustin gapes “In your dreams, Marky Mark! You should worry about your Speedos, though. When are you going to pack?”
“Later.” is all Mark says before turning back to his laptop.
Somehow later becomes too late and Mark sprints from one side of the suite to the other, trying to find fresh underwear and clean hoodies. Eduardo sighs and tries to fold the clothes Mark has already thrown haphazardly in his suitcase. The taxi they’re taking to the airport has been honking for the past five minutes.
It turns out that Miami does look like the background of Vice City enough so that Dustin would fit in, were it not for his paleness and propensity to stare at every bare midriff that crosses their path. Eduardo smiles at his friends and shows them to his old high school hang outs and to the beach. Chris is thriving in the sun, happy to be in a hot place, no matter how much sunscreen he needs to apply on himself before leaving their apartment. Mark likes Miami just fine and is glad that, for once, no one glares at his flip flops.
When Eduardo had first invited them to his parents’ house for spring break, Dustin had been the one to refuse the offer (Seriously, Wardo, we can’t crash at your parent’s. This is spring break we’re talking about, we need to rent a place and then we need to misbehave, get laid, and make everything to make sure we never get the deposit back. ) but it didn’t take long for them to arrange a trip that fit Dustin’s requests.
In the end, Chris is the only one that gets laid, but the guy takes them all out for breakfast the next day and introduces them to some of his friends and Dustin definitely gets to at least make out with a hot girl (I’m a gentleman of Harvard, that’s why I didn’t pressure her, okay? It’ll happen when it happens). They end up having a double date. Mark and Eduardo don’t have such luck, but they seem unfazed by it.
Because their parents would kill them if they didn’t go back to their homes for at least a couple of days, Dustin and Chris pack their bags and share a ride to the airport. Mark goes to Wardo’s childhood home for the rest of their break. It’s a lovely villa with palm trees and other trees Mark has no idea what they’re called, but he knows they are tall and nice and probably expensive. Actually, that’s the way Mark feels about the rest of the house, he doesn’t know why someone would paint their house a pale peach color or why they’d have columns or even a Jacuzzi next to a pool long enough to host official competitions, but it is a nice house and he’s there for free, so whatever. He knew Wardo’s parents were loaded.
Mrs. Saverin is a woman with a sweet face and even sweeter demeanor. She looks impossibly fresh and knowing, and were Mark to be more immature, disrespectful or plainly Dustin-like, he would think of her as a MILF. But he is definitely not any of those things -okay, he is, but this is Wardo’s mom, so, boundaries.
She hugs Mark and tells him she’s ecstatic to meet him (I had started to think you didn’t exist and Edu had invented you so I would get off his back. It’s so nice of you to join us. Your parents must be upset you are not going to their place but you can both make it up and go next break, right? Have you tried feijoada? We made sure the pool was clean for you, but if you want to go to the beach Edu can take the car, it’ll be okay.) and is all in all exuberant and warm. Mark adores her immediately, but makes sure to hide it.
Mr. Saverin is not home when they get there, so Wardo takes their bags back to the guest house (We thought you might like the privacy) and collapses on one of the beds.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love being home. It’s just… family. It’s a bit exhausting.”
“I know. Thanks for letting me stay here and watch you get exhausted instead of going home to be ambushed by my very exhausting family.”
Mark nudges Wardo’s leg so he can plop down next to him on the bed. They decide to crash on the master bedroom because it has the flatscreen TV and the best mattress. It’s not like they sleep naked, anyway. Though Mark wouldn’t really mind, he’s got a dick too so there’s no reason it’d be awkward. Okay, it’d probably be awkward, but it’s not the case, so.
Brazilian breakfasts are amazing. They include black coffee, yoghurt, cereal and so many fruits it looks like someone puked rainbows on the table. Except, you know, it looks delicious as opposed to disgusting. The table is next to the pool and by the time Mark has had enough coffee to resemble a human being and make polite conversation with Mrs Saverin -because mothers are on a whole other realm of existence, and one is never pretentious, rude or assholey in any way to a mother, much less a Jewish one at that and Mark knows this- Eduardo is doing some laps. It’s 11 am and the sun is high and Wardo’s skin glistens with a thousand droplets of chlorinated water. Wardo wears a Speedo instead of the trunks he had taken to the beach, but it doesn’t look ironic or ridiculous on him. It’s quite a sight.
Mr. Saverin comes back from a business trip that afternoon and he looks tired and worried. It fits the mental image Mark’s made of the man, but if he thinks Mr. Saverin’s handshake is a bit too forceful and stern, he doesn’t mention it. Mrs. Saverin (Please call me Flor, you’re practically part of the family now.) tells Mark they should make a trip to the mall because she needs to pick up some dry-cleaning and wouldn’t it be lovely if he could get some presents for his sisters? Mark knows better than trying to refuse a mother, so he just waves at Eduardo and goes to the car.
Flor seems nervous and constantly fiddles with the rear mirror. She asks Mark to please get her sunglasses from her bag while they’re at a traffic light. Mark tries not to snoop around her bag, but it’s kind of difficult when he needs to find something in it. They pick up a dress and a couple of suits from the dry cleaner’s and end up getting some random paraphernalia with Miami Beach emblazoned on it for the Zuckerberg clan. It ends up taking half a pint of ice-cream for Wardo’s mom to turn to Mark and, looking sheepish, ask how they met.
Mark doesn’t really know why she seems so interested in how he and Wardo met, but tells her about AEPI and Dustin. She nods in all the right places and continues to look nervous.
“And who took the first step?”
Mark frowns, because it’s not like there were lots of steps for them to become best friends. “It was Wardo, I mean, Eduardo, I suppose. He knocked on our dorm door with a couple of be- sodas and a DVD and the rest was history, I guess.”
She smiles “My Edu, always so brave. And I like that you call him Wardo, there’s no need for you to call him Eduardo in front of Mario and me.” She pats his arm lightly. “ And because I’m Brazilian and the legal drinking age in my country is a reasonable 18 years old, I’ll pretend it’s okay that you and Edu were having beers, provided it wasn’t a school night and no one had to drive afterwards.”
Mark smiles back and silently wonders why knocking on someone’s door would be brave. That is, besides the obvious matter of facing potential rejection, or something, because, well, Eduardo. Who in their right mind would reject Eduardo?
The ride back is quiet and peaceful and Mark spends most of it staring out the window at the people having drinks outside of little cafés and going back home from the beach. They’re about to go their separate ways, Mark to the guest house the other side of the pool and Wardo’s mom to the garage when she grabs his hands in hers.
“Edu looks radiant. I know it must be a bit difficult for you two sometimes, but I’m so glad you found each other. I was a bit apprehensive at first, but I saw the way you look at him and a mother knows. I’m really happy that Edu has you, Mark. I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend for my son.” With a last squeeze, she lets his hands go and walks up to the house.
Mark stays there, stunned , for at least five minutes before he realizes maybe he should have said something, but now it’s kind of late.
Wardo is watching TV when Mark gets to their room and he looks a bit embarrassed. Mark sits next to him on the bed and watches the Futurama episode with a bit too much intensity. Wardo, his eyes fixed on the TV, gulps and turns it off.
He turns to look at Mark. “I’m sorry my mom ambushed you today. I would have tried to save you, but my dad wanted to have a talk.”
Mark hums and takes the remote to turn the TV on again. Wardo catches his wrist before he can get to press any button.
“Did… did my mom say or imply anything weird today?”
Mark closes his eyes and bites his lips for a moment. “She… she might have, uh, mentioned something about me being the best boyfriend she could ask for you.”
Wardo drops his wrist in a second and groans, falling back onto the mattress and covering his face with his hands. He’s flushed and Mark can’t help but wonder if Wardo also thinks Mark’s the best he could ask for.
“I’m sorry about that. I swear I never said you were my boyfriend, I never even came out to my parents.” He shudders. “And that was me coming out to you, oh my god.” Wardo shakes his head and his eyes are glassy. “I swear, I knew I would have to tell you sometime, but it’s not… I didn’t think you’d care, it’s just something difficult, okay? And maybe I should have said something when you said it was okay if we crashed on the same bed or when you agreed to come here, but you’re my best friend and I respect you and I swear I never…”
Mark nods. “It’s okay, Wardo, I know. I’m glad you told me.”
Wardo sighs. “I knew that you’d be okay with it, you guys never give Chris any shit about it, but, still. I don’t even know. My father just gave me this speech about how he’s not disappointed but happy for me. And something about him being scared that society will make things hard for me because he always wanted things to be easy and nice. My father, I just… I don’t understand what’s going on. It’s the Twilight Zone in here.”
“I know. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. It’s okay. Calm down.”
He shudders again. “What did my mom say when you told her we weren’t dating?”
Mark lies back and turns his head to look at Wardo.
“I didn’t.”
“What?” Wardo’s frown is huge and Mark just wants to caress his forehead until it goes away.
“She asked me how we met and who took the first step and then she just thanked me for making you happy and left.”
Mark rolls on his side and gives in to his desire to make Wardo stop frowning.
“Do I make you happy, Wardo?”
Wardo bites his lips and nods quietly.
“In that case I think we could pretend it didn’t take your parents telling us it was okay for us to date before we started, you know, dating.”
“What?” The frown is back.
“What you heard. We should start. Dating. Making up for lost time.”
“What?” Wardo is now smiling lightly, half disbelieving, half hopeful.
Mark cups Wardo’s jaw and looks into big, brown eyes. “Now you’re just being dense” he teases, before kissing him.
In the end, because it’s Wardo’s home and not a rented space, they don’t have to pay a deposit for the mattress and its ruined springs. They still don’t tell the Saverins about it because there are such things as decorum and shame and it’s not like the guest house gets a lot of use during the year, anyway. They do more than get laid as Dustin had so elegantly put it before the break, and go back to Boston a couple. As they get out of the plane Mark looks at Wardo, how he belongs everywhere so effortless, how he smiles at Mark like he has eyes for no one else, while some girls that were seated in front of them keep looking back at Wardo and giggling.
In that moment Mark wishes he could hang a sign on Wardo’s front, one that said In a relationship with Mark Zuckerberg so that everyone would know right away to back the fuck off. Hmm, maybe he could code something to make it happen.