[Fic]: Blue Ink
Title: Blue Ink
Fandom: The Social Network
Rating: M
Summary: Mark liked Eduardo's fingers because he couldn't escape. For the thumb sucking prompt on the kinkmeme.
Disclaimer: TSN and its characters are not mine.
There was a bitter tang at the tip of his tongue. Mark let Eduardo’s thumb slid from his mouth, a trail of saliva stained lightly with blue.
Ink.
“Sorry,” Eduardo mumbled, red faced and staring at his wet thumb intently. He swallowed.
Eduardo pulled his hand away, but Mark caught him by the wrist. The blue ink stain on Eduardo’s thumb made the insides of Mark’s skin itched by looking alone.
Mark caressed the rough skin underneath the nail with his bottom lip. It was a light touch, damp with saliva, but Mark felt as if his dry lip was being stretched apart.
He sucked Eduardo’s thumb back into his mouth. A crack on his lip got caught temporarily on Eduardo’s newly cut nail, and it burned painfully.
It burned good.
The bitter tang of ink invaded his mouth again, and Mark’s head felt light and fuzzy as his tongue found that bitterest spot, right at the tip of Eduardo’s thumb.
He wondered if he could feel the trace of Eduardo’s fingerprint on his tongue.
He couldn’t.
Mark grazed his teeth against that spot, biting it lightly.
It was really bitter.
Eduardo jerked slightly, and his thumb slid from Mark’s mouth once more, the newly cut nail scraped Mark’s teeth and the skin behind his bottom lip, right at the spot that Mark was biting into this morning.
Mark hissed.
It hurt.
“Sorry,” said Eduardo, pulling back.
Mark blinked, looking at Eduardo for the first time.
Eduardo’s face was bright red. His body was trembling, and he was holding his right wrist gingerly, as if the touch from Mark’s tongue had burned him.
Ah.
Mark should have seen it sooner.
“Do you like me?”
“I…” Eduardo jerked in surprise. He looked like he wanted to protest, but then something like hope and resignation fell like heavy curtains over his eyes. “Yes.”
Eduardo had really big eyes. Mark had always thought that they were almost as nice as his fingers.
Too bad.
“I see,” Mark said flatly.
Disgusting.
“Do you want to touch me?”
Eduardo looked away.
“So you do want to touch me,” Mark leaned back against the sofa. The cushions were old, worn in over the years, but they felt as hard as stone against his back today.
There was a phantom touch on his thigh. A big, rough hand stained with ghostly white chalk and blue ink.
Disgusting. All of it.
Something like bile rose in the back of his throat. Ink-stained bile. His throat felt as dry as chalk.
“Sorry,” said Eduardo.
Mark shrugged.
A silence fell in-between them.
Mark hadn’t thought that it would come to this. He had always liked fingers, he thought. Especially Eduardo’s fingers. They were large and rough and long. The nails were always cut short; clean and well-kept. Too bad Eduardo wasn’t into wearing rings. It would make his fingers perfect.
Mark liked Eduardo’s fingers, but he didn’t expect that it would come to this. That Eduardo would….
“Mark?”
Mark looked at Eduardo.
“I…I know it’s none of my business,” Eduardo scratched the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable and embarrassed at the same time. “But…did something happen in the past?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know…why you like fingers?” Eduardo’s face was flaming red. “Why do you like my fingers in particular? Or could it be anyone’s fingers?”
Eduardo looked a little sad at that, as if the thought that Mark would like anyone else’s fingers other than his was an unbearable thought.
“No.”
“What?”
Mark rose from the sofa and walked back to his room. “It can’t be anyone’s fingers.”
He slumped against his chair. The computer screen in front of him was blank. He couldn’t find the strength to turn it on. He wished he could, but his fingers were starting to shake. He hid them in his hoodie pocket.
“I see.” Eduardo sounded happy at that.
“Don’t you have to go to class?” Mark’s throat felt dry. An invisible hand had poured chalk down his throat, and it was now choking him.
“Oh! Right! I’ll see you later,” Eduardo hastily grabbed his bag and headed for the door. Just when his hand enclosed the door handle, he turned back.
“Will we…” Eduardo paused. “….do this again?”
Disgusting.
Mark didn’t say anything for a while. Then, he shrugged.
Eduardo let out a soft chuckle. It sounded painful. Mark’s ears were still stinging long after Eduardo left.
Mark pulled at his hoodie pocket. His hands were sweaty.
Disgusting.
Too bad about Eduardo. Mark had liked Eduardo’s fingers. They were almost perfect, if only Eduardo was into wearing rings.
Mark remembered a pair of hands like that once, a pair that was as large and as rough as Eduardo’s. A pair of hands stained with white chalk and blue ink, sliding up his bare thighs and leaving ghostly imprints on his skin.
Mark shivered. He could still remember a wedding ring scratching against him.
It had hurt.
“I want to touch you,” the person had said, and Mark couldn’t say no because his throat hurt and it was dry and there was chalk choking him.
Mark still remembered the after taste of that thumb. Dry with chalk and bitter with ink and salty and sticky and disgusting with shame.
“Will we do this again?”
Mark shivered.
Disgusti-