fic: the one where they spent the whole weekend in bed (part 1/3)
fic: the one where they spent the whole weekend in bed (part one of three)
fandom: the social network
pairing: mark/eduardo
notes: written for the tsn_kinkmeme prompt "That time at Harvard where they spent the whole weekend in bed." so, again, i am ever so original with the titles.
FRIDAY
It all started with a party.
No, scratch that, it all started when Dustin got his fake ID from the creepy ponytailed guy who lived in Eliot and only sold Tennessee, Michigan, and Oregon.
Dustin went with Michigan, because he'd apparently always wanted to be from Detroit. Mark pointed out that most people from Detroit wished they weren't from Detroit, and he just made a fake gang sign and said "Shut up fool!"
FRIDAY, 3 PM
Anyway. At 3pm on Friday, Dustin dragged Mark out of their CS lecture and forced him to come to the liquor store as "backup".
"I'm not gonna tackle a police officer," Mark says wearily after Dustin outlines their emergency getaway. Dustin just glares at him and walks into the store, shaking a little.
He comes out ten minutes later and does a dance in front of Mark, clutching a paper-bagged handle of Smirnoff and a six-pack of Natty Ice.
"I refuse to dance along with you. Natty? Really? Are we lacrosse players?" And Dustin says, "Just for that, you have to hold it," and pushes the six-pack into Mark's hands.
FRIDAY, 7PM
They go to dinner in Kirkland, and Eduardo joins them.
"What's up tonight?" he asks, mouth full of spaghetti.
"Oh, nothing much, Wardo. Just the same old same old except I GOT A FAKE ID," Dustin exclaims and starts repeating the dance until Chris punches him in the arm.
Eduardo laughs.
"AEPi's having a thing," he says, taking another bite. "I heard it's not even a theme night. Thank the fucking Lord."
"Pregame in our room?" Dustin asks, and makes puppy eyes at Mark. "Pretty please?"
"I don't care," Mark says bemusedly. "Why am I, like, the father in this scenario?"
"Yeah, I'm technically the most responsible out of all of you idiots," Chris adds.
"And yet I am the one with the fake ID," Dustin says proudly.
"How does that prove your point?" Mark asks.
"Shut up. If you throw up tonight I'm not even gonna hold your hair back."
"It's okay, it's a Jewfro. It stays up on its own," Eduardo says, and Dustin gives him a high-five.
FRIDAY, 8:30PM
They get pretty trashed.
Dustin pours them all shots, and Eduardo grins when Mark can only take half of it before spluttering.
"Pussy!" Dustin yells gleefully and downs another shot.
"You want me to find a mixer?" Eduardo asks when Mark goes red and takes the other half quickly.
"Yeah, do you want me to mix it into your FORMULA? Because you're a BABY?"
"Shut the fuck up, Dustin," Mark says, and Eduardo hands him a Coke.
"Round two slash three?" Dustin says instead of shutting up, and pours them out again.
"I refuse to take you to EMS tonight," Mark says flatly.
"Whatever, Wardo will, won't you?"
"Um… just don't get EMS-ed, okay? As in, no more shots tonight, Jesus-" he pulls the bottle out of Dustin's hands. Dustin does grabby-hands at it, but Eduardo shakes his head.
"Chill, dude. There's going to be stuff at the party."
"Oh yeah, the party," Dustin says, eyes already a little glassy. He's swaying slightly.
"If Dustin passes out before we go, I officially fucking win this night," Mark says, and Eduardo shoots him a mother-hen look, pushing Dustin to sit on the bed.
"You'll win it anyway," he whispers, and winks, and oh God, sometimes Mark forgets they've been hooking up for at least two months. He looks down at his knees.
"Put pants on, 'kay? I'll wake up Dustin."
Mark walks into the next room, already feeling that rush of tipsiness, the way the walls seem different shapes and there are extremely difficult-to-overcome obstacles on the floor that were previously known as boxers or shoes or water bottle.
He sits on his bed heavily and grabs some jeans off of the dresser. "Wardo and I will probably hook up tonight," he says matter-of-factly to himself, in that way he does when he's drunk.
Eduardo sticks his head in the door. "Hurry up!"
FRIDAY 9PM
The party is dark. This might seem like an unimportant description, but AEPi parties are usually lit by floodlights or cheesy disco balls, or all the overheads can't go off because of fire hazards, or no one even bothers to turn the lights off because it's not like a real party will somehow sprout out of the darkness.
Tonight, though, the party is dark, and a little louder than usual.
"I heard the Brown band is in town for the football game," Eduardo yells over the music.
"Shouldn't they be smoking weed in a spirit circle, or something?" Mark says, and Dustin laughs hysterically and tries to clap Mark on the back, but totally whiffs.
"Shit, I think I dislocated my shoulder. Ooh, punch!" Dustin squeals, pulling away, and practically skips toward the punch table.
Eduardo watches him go, laughing. Mark watches Eduardo. He's wearing a black button-down and tight jeans, and his hair is all pushed up.
"How do you do that? With your hair," Mark clarifies, over-enunciating. Eduardo grins at him.
"How do I make it look so absolutely dashing and gorgeous? Well, with product, of course."
"Such a girl," Mark says, shoving him, and he laughs and puts an arm around Mark, a casual arm, but Mark can feel Eduardo's thumb stroke the back of his neck and his skin prickles.
"You're not even drunk," he accuses Eduardo, slipping out of his grasp. "Go drink more."
"I'd hate to take advantage of you," Eduardo says, and Mark bites his bottom lip slowly.
"Yes, yes, drunk," Eduardo stammers, and goes off to the punch table. Mark stands alone, awkward, shifting from foot to foot, until Dustin stumbles back towards him with three red plastic cups of jungle juice.
"Where's Waldo? I mean, Wardo?" he says, and Mark takes a glass and downs it.
"Shit," Dustin says, impressed. Mark wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"He's getting punch."
"But I have punch," Dustin says, looking confused.
"I'll take his."
And yeah, he is well and truly drunk. Perfect timing, because Eduardo's walking back towards them.
"Hey," he says, grinning loose, and Mark nods back. Something about just keeping eye contact with Eduardo makes him hot when he's wasted. Unfortunately, he also forgets that other people can see them.
"Ugh, I need to find a girl," Dustin mutters, and stumbles away.
FRIDAY 9:35 PM
Eduardo's dancing with a girl. She came up to them, shot a look at Mark, and grabbed Eduardo by the hand, and stupid Eduardo went with her, probably because she's short and cute and Asian.
Mark watches them. Being drunk somehow makes Eduardo worse at dancing. The girl doesn't seem to care, though. She giggles, and Mark grabs Dustin's cup of punch and takes a gulp.
"Fuck off!" Dustin says, grabbing it back, and leans his head on Mark's shoulder.
"Eduardo's not gonna hook up with that chick, you know," Dustin says.
"I don't even care."
"Oh, don't be so coy, Marky. There are feelings. Feelings! You and Eduardo have feelings. And here is a secret. So don't tell anyone. Eduardo has feelings."
"You said feelings a lot. In that sentence."
"For you, Mark. Feelings!"
"Shut up, Dustin."
"Wait! Mark. I have a plan. I will take the girl away. And then there will be a clear path for all of your gay feelings."
Mark doesn't say anything, just sways a little, stares at Eduardo.
"I will take your silence as a yes and begin Phase One."
FRIDAY 10PM
Eduardo laughs into Mark's mouth. They're in the men's room of AEPi, and Eduardo's sitting on the counter, Mark standing between his spread legs, and he doesn't really care that water's soaking into his jeans, and he's pretty sure there's someone in the shower.
"Wait- someone could come in, Mark," Eduardo says, and Mark kisses him again. Eduardo slips a tongue in his mouth, and Mark yanks him a little closer, and someone does come in.
"Oh, uh, sorry, bro," the guy says, and Mark pulls Eduardo off the counter and pushes him out of the bathroom, hand on his ass.
"Let's go somewhere," Eduardo says, turning around, looking at Mark under lowered eyelids, and Mark nods.
FRIDAY 11PM
"Holy fuck, it is way too cold," Eduardo says, rubbing his arms with both hands. They're walking down Francis Avenue, away from a cross-country party which was somehow worse than AEPi, but at least they had single-person bathrooms.
Mark grins to himself, hands in his pockets, and Eduardo finally just pulls him into an awning outside of a Bank of America.
"I'm freezing," he whispers, putting his hands on Mark's hips, and yeah there's a gaggle of drunk girls walking on the other side of the street, but Mark's wasted, so he reaches up and pulls Eduardo's face down towards his.
"Better?" he says, pulling away after a minute, breathing hard, and Eduardo's lips are all red and chapped and swollen. He licks his own involuntarily.
"Yeah," Eduardo says, a little dazed.
FRIDAY 11:45 PM
Mark disappears somehow, when they're at a dorm party on the first floor of Kirkland, and Eduardo trips out of the room, hitting the wall occasionally, in search of him.
Mark's in the dorm laundry room, picking up socks off the floor. Eduardo leans against the doorway and starts laughing.
"Dude. Dude. What the fuck are you doing?"
"I'm cleaning," Mark explains, nearly overbalancing when he reaches down for another sock.
"Yeah, I can see that," Eduardo says, and flicks off the light. The laundry room's dark, warm from the hum of machines, and there are snatches of light from the hall but Mark closes his eyes when Eduardo backs him up against a dryer and he can't see anything.
They stay like that for a while, just kissing, and by the time they pull away they're both hard.
"Goddamn," Eduardo murmurs, grinding his hips in a slow circle against Mark's, and Mark's legs almost give out.
"My room? Now?" Mark asks, and he can feel Eduardo smiling against his mouth.
"Home before midnight, Mark Zuckerberg, I'm ashamed. What would Dustin say?"
Mark gets a hand between them, rubs a palm rough over Eduardo's cock through the denim, and Eduardo shudders and says, "I guess we could- Mark, yeah. Yes."
fandom: the social network
pairing: mark/eduardo
notes: written for the tsn_kinkmeme prompt "That time at Harvard where they spent the whole weekend in bed." so, again, i am ever so original with the titles.
FRIDAY
It all started with a party.
No, scratch that, it all started when Dustin got his fake ID from the creepy ponytailed guy who lived in Eliot and only sold Tennessee, Michigan, and Oregon.
Dustin went with Michigan, because he'd apparently always wanted to be from Detroit. Mark pointed out that most people from Detroit wished they weren't from Detroit, and he just made a fake gang sign and said "Shut up fool!"
FRIDAY, 3 PM
Anyway. At 3pm on Friday, Dustin dragged Mark out of their CS lecture and forced him to come to the liquor store as "backup".
"I'm not gonna tackle a police officer," Mark says wearily after Dustin outlines their emergency getaway. Dustin just glares at him and walks into the store, shaking a little.
He comes out ten minutes later and does a dance in front of Mark, clutching a paper-bagged handle of Smirnoff and a six-pack of Natty Ice.
"I refuse to dance along with you. Natty? Really? Are we lacrosse players?" And Dustin says, "Just for that, you have to hold it," and pushes the six-pack into Mark's hands.
FRIDAY, 7PM
They go to dinner in Kirkland, and Eduardo joins them.
"What's up tonight?" he asks, mouth full of spaghetti.
"Oh, nothing much, Wardo. Just the same old same old except I GOT A FAKE ID," Dustin exclaims and starts repeating the dance until Chris punches him in the arm.
Eduardo laughs.
"AEPi's having a thing," he says, taking another bite. "I heard it's not even a theme night. Thank the fucking Lord."
"Pregame in our room?" Dustin asks, and makes puppy eyes at Mark. "Pretty please?"
"I don't care," Mark says bemusedly. "Why am I, like, the father in this scenario?"
"Yeah, I'm technically the most responsible out of all of you idiots," Chris adds.
"And yet I am the one with the fake ID," Dustin says proudly.
"How does that prove your point?" Mark asks.
"Shut up. If you throw up tonight I'm not even gonna hold your hair back."
"It's okay, it's a Jewfro. It stays up on its own," Eduardo says, and Dustin gives him a high-five.
FRIDAY, 8:30PM
They get pretty trashed.
Dustin pours them all shots, and Eduardo grins when Mark can only take half of it before spluttering.
"Pussy!" Dustin yells gleefully and downs another shot.
"You want me to find a mixer?" Eduardo asks when Mark goes red and takes the other half quickly.
"Yeah, do you want me to mix it into your FORMULA? Because you're a BABY?"
"Shut the fuck up, Dustin," Mark says, and Eduardo hands him a Coke.
"Round two slash three?" Dustin says instead of shutting up, and pours them out again.
"I refuse to take you to EMS tonight," Mark says flatly.
"Whatever, Wardo will, won't you?"
"Um… just don't get EMS-ed, okay? As in, no more shots tonight, Jesus-" he pulls the bottle out of Dustin's hands. Dustin does grabby-hands at it, but Eduardo shakes his head.
"Chill, dude. There's going to be stuff at the party."
"Oh yeah, the party," Dustin says, eyes already a little glassy. He's swaying slightly.
"If Dustin passes out before we go, I officially fucking win this night," Mark says, and Eduardo shoots him a mother-hen look, pushing Dustin to sit on the bed.
"You'll win it anyway," he whispers, and winks, and oh God, sometimes Mark forgets they've been hooking up for at least two months. He looks down at his knees.
"Put pants on, 'kay? I'll wake up Dustin."
Mark walks into the next room, already feeling that rush of tipsiness, the way the walls seem different shapes and there are extremely difficult-to-overcome obstacles on the floor that were previously known as boxers or shoes or water bottle.
He sits on his bed heavily and grabs some jeans off of the dresser. "Wardo and I will probably hook up tonight," he says matter-of-factly to himself, in that way he does when he's drunk.
Eduardo sticks his head in the door. "Hurry up!"
FRIDAY 9PM
The party is dark. This might seem like an unimportant description, but AEPi parties are usually lit by floodlights or cheesy disco balls, or all the overheads can't go off because of fire hazards, or no one even bothers to turn the lights off because it's not like a real party will somehow sprout out of the darkness.
Tonight, though, the party is dark, and a little louder than usual.
"I heard the Brown band is in town for the football game," Eduardo yells over the music.
"Shouldn't they be smoking weed in a spirit circle, or something?" Mark says, and Dustin laughs hysterically and tries to clap Mark on the back, but totally whiffs.
"Shit, I think I dislocated my shoulder. Ooh, punch!" Dustin squeals, pulling away, and practically skips toward the punch table.
Eduardo watches him go, laughing. Mark watches Eduardo. He's wearing a black button-down and tight jeans, and his hair is all pushed up.
"How do you do that? With your hair," Mark clarifies, over-enunciating. Eduardo grins at him.
"How do I make it look so absolutely dashing and gorgeous? Well, with product, of course."
"Such a girl," Mark says, shoving him, and he laughs and puts an arm around Mark, a casual arm, but Mark can feel Eduardo's thumb stroke the back of his neck and his skin prickles.
"You're not even drunk," he accuses Eduardo, slipping out of his grasp. "Go drink more."
"I'd hate to take advantage of you," Eduardo says, and Mark bites his bottom lip slowly.
"Yes, yes, drunk," Eduardo stammers, and goes off to the punch table. Mark stands alone, awkward, shifting from foot to foot, until Dustin stumbles back towards him with three red plastic cups of jungle juice.
"Where's Waldo? I mean, Wardo?" he says, and Mark takes a glass and downs it.
"Shit," Dustin says, impressed. Mark wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"He's getting punch."
"But I have punch," Dustin says, looking confused.
"I'll take his."
And yeah, he is well and truly drunk. Perfect timing, because Eduardo's walking back towards them.
"Hey," he says, grinning loose, and Mark nods back. Something about just keeping eye contact with Eduardo makes him hot when he's wasted. Unfortunately, he also forgets that other people can see them.
"Ugh, I need to find a girl," Dustin mutters, and stumbles away.
FRIDAY 9:35 PM
Eduardo's dancing with a girl. She came up to them, shot a look at Mark, and grabbed Eduardo by the hand, and stupid Eduardo went with her, probably because she's short and cute and Asian.
Mark watches them. Being drunk somehow makes Eduardo worse at dancing. The girl doesn't seem to care, though. She giggles, and Mark grabs Dustin's cup of punch and takes a gulp.
"Fuck off!" Dustin says, grabbing it back, and leans his head on Mark's shoulder.
"Eduardo's not gonna hook up with that chick, you know," Dustin says.
"I don't even care."
"Oh, don't be so coy, Marky. There are feelings. Feelings! You and Eduardo have feelings. And here is a secret. So don't tell anyone. Eduardo has feelings."
"You said feelings a lot. In that sentence."
"For you, Mark. Feelings!"
"Shut up, Dustin."
"Wait! Mark. I have a plan. I will take the girl away. And then there will be a clear path for all of your gay feelings."
Mark doesn't say anything, just sways a little, stares at Eduardo.
"I will take your silence as a yes and begin Phase One."
FRIDAY 10PM
Eduardo laughs into Mark's mouth. They're in the men's room of AEPi, and Eduardo's sitting on the counter, Mark standing between his spread legs, and he doesn't really care that water's soaking into his jeans, and he's pretty sure there's someone in the shower.
"Wait- someone could come in, Mark," Eduardo says, and Mark kisses him again. Eduardo slips a tongue in his mouth, and Mark yanks him a little closer, and someone does come in.
"Oh, uh, sorry, bro," the guy says, and Mark pulls Eduardo off the counter and pushes him out of the bathroom, hand on his ass.
"Let's go somewhere," Eduardo says, turning around, looking at Mark under lowered eyelids, and Mark nods.
FRIDAY 11PM
"Holy fuck, it is way too cold," Eduardo says, rubbing his arms with both hands. They're walking down Francis Avenue, away from a cross-country party which was somehow worse than AEPi, but at least they had single-person bathrooms.
Mark grins to himself, hands in his pockets, and Eduardo finally just pulls him into an awning outside of a Bank of America.
"I'm freezing," he whispers, putting his hands on Mark's hips, and yeah there's a gaggle of drunk girls walking on the other side of the street, but Mark's wasted, so he reaches up and pulls Eduardo's face down towards his.
"Better?" he says, pulling away after a minute, breathing hard, and Eduardo's lips are all red and chapped and swollen. He licks his own involuntarily.
"Yeah," Eduardo says, a little dazed.
FRIDAY 11:45 PM
Mark disappears somehow, when they're at a dorm party on the first floor of Kirkland, and Eduardo trips out of the room, hitting the wall occasionally, in search of him.
Mark's in the dorm laundry room, picking up socks off the floor. Eduardo leans against the doorway and starts laughing.
"Dude. Dude. What the fuck are you doing?"
"I'm cleaning," Mark explains, nearly overbalancing when he reaches down for another sock.
"Yeah, I can see that," Eduardo says, and flicks off the light. The laundry room's dark, warm from the hum of machines, and there are snatches of light from the hall but Mark closes his eyes when Eduardo backs him up against a dryer and he can't see anything.
They stay like that for a while, just kissing, and by the time they pull away they're both hard.
"Goddamn," Eduardo murmurs, grinding his hips in a slow circle against Mark's, and Mark's legs almost give out.
"My room? Now?" Mark asks, and he can feel Eduardo smiling against his mouth.
"Home before midnight, Mark Zuckerberg, I'm ashamed. What would Dustin say?"
Mark gets a hand between them, rubs a palm rough over Eduardo's cock through the denim, and Eduardo shudders and says, "I guess we could- Mark, yeah. Yes."