fic: Threads | The Social Network | Part Three
Masterpost | Art by eiirene | Art by lovesletyoudown | Art and Fanmix by sweetmadness379
Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Epilogue
Mark doesn't see Chris for three days. He doesn't know if Chris is ashamed - Eduardo probably set him straight even better than he did Mark, because Eduardo speaks tactful interference as well as Chris does, but Chris listens better than Mark, so their discussion was undoubtedly more thorough, or possibly just quicker - or if Chris is angry at him, which is more likely. Either way, Dustin acts normal and Sean texts him intermittently, still bitching about San Francisco, and Mark just doesn't see Chris for a while.
He sees Eduardo a lot, though. More than he expected, especially considering he thought Eduardo would take advantage of the newly established boundaries to go out with Etienne all the time. Instead, Eduardo doesn't leave Mark's sight for over a week.
It's similar to how he was right after they had to deal with the press. He's always accounted for, if not always with Mark, and they barely leave the house if not together. Mark would be pleased, but Chris wasn't entirely wrong in what he'd said, and Mark doesn't want to disappoint, even if the obligations he's struggling to meet are arbitrary and unusual ones. He may only be Eduardo's soon-to-be-estranged husband, but he's going to be a good one.
The following weekend passes, and by Monday night, Mark has worked up the nerve to say, "You can go out, you know."
"What?" Eduardo asks, turning away from the fridge. He's surveying their supply of food and trying to decide whether grocery shopping is in order. Mark has tried to order their food online but Eduardo hates it, for some reason, and always manages to find an excuse to go out himself anyway.
"You've been here," Mark says. "You should've been going out more often, shouldn't you?"
Eduardo still looks confused.
"With Etienne," Mark says, and manages not to stumble or curse over the name. "You don't need to spend all your time with me. We talked about this."
"Oh," Eduardo says. His face is curiously blank. "You know I haven't been seeing him?"
Mark fights not to shift on his feet. It makes him look guilty. "Like you said, if you're not dating someone, you spend all your time with me."
"Oh," Eduardo repeats.
"You don't have to," Mark says, and shrugs.
"He's been busy," Eduardo says after another few seconds of silence. "I'm not-we just haven't had time to meet up."
"Okay," Mark says.
"We'll probably start going out again more," Eduardo adds. "In the next couple of weeks, especially. We're thinking about setting up a regular weekly date at least."
"Okay," Mark repeats, more desperately. He doesn't want to know the details.
"Yeah," Eduardo says, and Mark is vaguely gratified to see he looks almost as uncomfortable.
---
The weekly date gets set for Thursday lunch. Mark would be annoyed, possibly, at losing not just one of their lunches but an extra hour of Eduardo's time besides, because his dates with Etienne almost always last close to two hours; except they've both agreed to meet their lawyers over lunch to discuss the majority of the divorce proceedings, so they usually don't eat together now anyway.
Eduardo is also gone intermittently on weekends, disappearing in the mornings or the afternoons or the evenings with no warning to Mark. He reappears soon enough, there haven't been many - if any - overnight stays Mark has noticed, and he doesn't tell Mark what he's been doing. He dates like Chris dates: quiet and privately. Not like Dustin, who announces to the world and the next one over every minute detail.
When he is around, though, he's more present than he was before. At first, Mark thinks he might be paying more attention, giving Eduardo's presence more notice than he used to, and that's what accounts for the difference. However, once he's forced to acknowledge that, yes, Eduardo actually dragged him to the grocery store even though he doesn't like being there and Eduardo doesn't like having him, he's also forced to acknowledge that Eduardo actually is making concerted efforts to spend more time with Mark.
He drags them out to dinner, and it's not just that he's too lazy to cook. They go to a movie, and it's not just that he was tired of being at home. Eduardo is actively doing things with Mark, and Mark has no idea what's going on.
Then, almost a month later, Eduardo gets back from one of his dates and the next day commandeers Mark's attention to spend four hours eating, shopping, and letting Mark trash his movie choices on Netflix, and Mark figures it out.
Eduardo is being careful not to neglect him.
Mark stops making fun of romantic comedies. Eduardo glances at him curiously and then reaches over and pushes play on the remote, and Mark forces himself not to move away. He's angry, and he has every right to be. He's not a pet to be taken care of, given a certain amount of food and water until he blossoms in the sunlight. He's Eduardo's best fucking friend, and Eduardo has him on some sort of schedule for attention.
But the schedule has given Mark more of Eduardo's attention than he's had in years, even at a time when they've both got more reason to be pulled apart than ever, and Mark isn't stubborn enough to hold on to his anger. He's just sort of pathetically glad in the end, even when Eduardo winds up falling asleep on his shoulder in the early evening, and he doesn't tell Eduardo to stop.
---
"I'm going out today," Eduardo says a few Saturday mornings later when he wakes Mark up.
Mark squints his eyes open. "Date?"
Eduardo almost never bothers telling Mark, since his dates with Etienne are such regular occurrences. Now he usually only tells Mark if his absence is going to be an unusual occasion or particularly noticeable.
Which Mark has to admit this will be. Eduardo has never met him early Saturday with every apparent intention of spending the whole day with him before.
"No," Eduardo says. "Realtor."
Mark sits up. "Why?"
Eduardo looks to the side as he says, "She's showing me some apartments."
Mark's beginning to think ambushing him in the morning was a deliberate move on Eduardo's part. He scowls. "You said you wouldn't be moving out."
"I'm not," Eduardo says. He moves off the edge of the bed when Mark swings his feet to the floor. "But I'll have to eventually, and I thought I should at least start getting an idea of what places I'm interested in."
"You would never have to," Mark mutters, standing up. He tugs irritably at the waist of his sweatpants where they're sagging down from age.
Eduardo, when he looks up again, is smiling almost impossibly warmly. "I will have to," he says again. "But for now I was hoping you'd come look at everything with me."
Mark considers for a split second, but the thought that Eduardo may ask Etienne if he declines decides his course of action for him. "Yes, fine," he says. "I need a shirt."
"And pants that fit," Eduardo says. His hand touches Mark's side, so light and soft Mark can barely feel it. "Do you have any of the clean laundry from the maid left?"
After clothes there's breakfast, which is two omelets because Eduardo knows Mark too well. Give him a Pop-Tart and Red Bull, and he's fine for coding. It gets his brain up and running. Give him a Pop-Tart and Red Bull and ask him to actually move, and Mark would've made Eduardo's apartment hunt a living hell.
Then Eduardo drives them to the realtor's office where they're supposed to meet her. It's pretty close by and directly on the path between the lawyers' offices and Facebook. That answers how Eduardo started looking: he probably wandered into the realtor's one day out of curiosity and let things spiral from there.
The lady that greets them upon their entrance is scarily chipper for the early morning hours, and Mark knows it's not just him who thinks so - Eduardo hides a wince as she yaps out a, "Hello!" that could probably set dogs barking. She immediately follows it up with a seemingly endless stream of chatter as she hustles them out to the corporate car she'll be driving them around in and tells them to buckle up. Immediately following that, she starts the car and starts up a running list of the positives of the first property she's taking them to see.
Mark hates salespeople. He has to give her credit, though - besides a quick double-take when she first recognizes him, she doesn't let on she has any idea who they are or what they're doing besides looking for a new apartment.
The condo she takes them to - "You said you were looking to rent, I know, but this place is a great deal!" she proclaims, and Mark bristles, wondering if Eduardo is already thinking about when he'll be moving out of any condo or apartment he rents and if that thinking involves plans to move in with Etienne - is over twenty minutes away. It's on the far edge of the city, and the commute to Facebook would probably be nearly half an hour.
It's beautiful inside, all hardwood floors and marble countertops and large, overly impressive archways, with classic furniture barely filling the rooms. It manages to look like every other property in California, and also like it's trying too hard.
Mark yawns and sits on the couch while the realtor shows Eduardo around.
He naps a little bit and pretends to fight waking up when Eduardo shakes him. If Eduardo wants Mark's cooperation, he's going to have to work for it.
"I know you're awake, you asshole," Eduardo says fondly, flicking Mark's ear, and Mark makes a grumpy noise and stands up resignedly.
"So, what do you think?" the realtor asks as they follow the click of her sensible heels back down the stairs. "Did you like it? What'd you like? Any negatives? The price point is-"
"It's too far away," Mark says.
The realtor actually stops for a second and blinks at him, surprised. Eduardo looks at him quickly, then looks at her and smiles apologetically, and says, "Yeah, it's definitely further than I'm willing to go."
The next property is a rental, as per Eduardo's specifications, but it's a house. There's a small, neat front lawn and a pathway lined with rocks, leading up to an incredibly ugly one-story Southwestern style house.
"No," Mark says. He doesn't bother getting out of the car.
"It's hideous," Eduardo agrees, and slides back in. After a second where her smile falters, the realtor slides back in and moves on.
They visit three more properties, only two of which they tour. The one they skip is an apartment in a gated community. There's a guardhouse they have to check in at, and there are assigned parking spaces, and the buildings are made entirely of glass and metal. They're two stories, and the realtor touts the high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows of the second story units.
"No," Mark says again, and Eduardo agrees again, and again, they leave without even getting out of the car.
"Maybe you could tell me a little more about what you have in mind?" the realtor suggests, voice tight. She's no longer smiling. "I am trying to find something you'll like."
"Well, I only have a vague idea still," Eduardo says, looking a little embarrassed, but the realtor, when she glances back at them, looks at Mark.
"Try harder," Mark says.
The next two, to her credit, are better. One is a condo where instead of renting, Eduardo would have to buy a share in the building and surrounding complex. It's quiet and classy and somewhat set off from the freeway, which is nice.
Eduardo looks at Mark when they park in front of the wood and brick unit, and Mark shrugs and unbuckles his seatbelt.
"Here we have a two bedroom, two bathroom unit," the realtor says, watching them both carefully as they take an outside elevator up to the fifth floor. "You'll have no upstairs neighbors so there won't be much noise there. It's got an open floor design: the living room is spacious and opens onto the dining room. The kitchen, as you'll see, opens off to the other side of the living room." She unlocks the door and gestures for them to go in first.
The floors are all hardwood, gleaming softly in the track lighting. The rooms are huge, and there's two large windows off the back of the living room.
"There is an option to have the unit furnished for you before you move in," the realtor says, once they've stared across the empty expanse for a while. "And if you'll follow me, I'll give you the tour."
Mark trails them, tuning her out as she describes the appliances in the kitchen and the AC and security systems, then, looking heartened by Eduardo's casual questions and Mark's lack of objections, takes them down a small hallway off the front of the living room that leads to the bedrooms.
"This is the smaller of the two," she says, flipping a light switch and revealing a room that is at least half again as large as the ones Mark and Eduardo have in their house now. "The bathroom and walk-in closet are back through there, as you can see. This second door is a linen closet. And here, on the other side of the hall, we have the master suite."
She herds them into it a little unsubtly. It's probably twice the size of their current bedrooms, and there are more of the large windows. The view looks over the rest of complex.
"Well?" Eduardo asks. They walk a little away from the realtor. "What did you think?"
"Lots of space," Mark says. "For you?"
"Too big for one person," Eduardo agrees, and tells the realtor he's looking for something a little smaller.
She's looking incredibly frustrated by this point, but apparently she only works until three on Saturdays and she wants to show them one more place today. On the way over she assures them, sounding a little desperate, that she's saved the best for last.
And as soon as they pull up, Mark knows Eduardo will love it. It's a small house, located off a quiet street in a suburb about fifteen minutes from Facebook and twenty minutes from where they currently live. It's got a yard all around it, plenty of trees, and a high fence that makes it feel as if there's no other houses around at all.
It's old. They climb out of the car, parked in front of the separate garage, and take the cracking stone walkway to the front door. The realtor pulls out her keys and explains about the property, sounding a little nervous. It's in need of repairs, apparently, some pretty extensive ones. The driveway is uneven and cracking almost beyond the point of usability. It'll need to be torn out and replaced, which will require the gate and a section of the fence to be removed. The roof is about to give in places, and it obviously hasn't been lived in for at least a year.
"The kitchen will need some updating," she says. "Maybe a remodel. The floors are all in excellent condition. They're actually original from when the house was first built. You see those windows? They're rare to still find intact like this."
Mark can't see how they're any different, except they have large windowsills and the glass is a little wavering, with bubbles and pockets that make the sunlight show in waves instead of sharp hard lines.
The kitchen has a second area for a table and chairs, and then there's a separate dining room. The living room opens off the main entryway, with a large staircase against the back wall under the special windows and a bathroom and screened porch off the other main wall. She takes them upstairs, warning them not to lean on the banister, which is also original to the house but also in need of repair.
There are four bedrooms upstairs: two much smaller ones off to the side which share a bathroom, and then two larger ones with their own bathrooms and walk-in closets. They're nothing special, though the master bedroom has more of that weird glass and a window seat, and the bathroom has all the original plumbing fixtures.
Which would need to be replaced, the realtor explains a little apologetically. Mark wonders how she decided this place was a good option when Eduardo said he wanted a place to rent that could function as a short-term residence.
"So?" Eduardo asks, coming up to Mark, who's looking out over the yard, one knee on the window seat.
"It's exactly like our current house," Mark says, which isn't true. Their current house is a ranch-style building, all carpet and tile and semi-rustic landscaping. It's only a little older than Facebook, and it's already showing its age, browning around the edges and cracking at the windowsills. It's not a place people are meant to spend their lives, not like this house clearly is.
"It's got four bedrooms," Eduardo says. "Our current house only has three."
"So we'd have two studies instead of one," Mark says. "You'd hate it. You'd get bored if you had to pretend to work by yourself all the time."
"Or it would be a guest bedroom," Eduardo counters.
"We never have people stay over," Mark says.
"Because we don't have a guest bedroom," Eduardo says, as if he's won.
Mark rolls his eyes.
"So," the realtor says, probably smelling blood in the water. "Should I tell you more about the neighborhood? The history of the house? California doesn't have a lot of old properties, but this isn't a new development."
"I don't care," Mark says, shrugging.
"Sure," Eduardo says, and the realtor cuddles up to him to talk about things like the light fixtures and the stair banister being an exemplification of a bygone era.
Mark leaves them, wandering back downstairs and out to the backyard. It's overgrown, like the property's been vacant for a while. It probably has - most people are looking for shiny, beautiful new homes, not real houses that require maintenance and lawn upkeep. This lawn certainly needs a gardener, Mark thinks, looking around, but once upon a time it had good landscaping. There's green everywhere and enough plants that the air doesn't just smell like city even though they're only five minutes from the freeway.
He walks off the porch, dragging his sandals through the overgrown grass and wondering who used to live here. A family, probably, one with kids and a dog running around. A cat that laid on the porch. Friends that came over for barbecues in the fire pit that's now half-hidden by an expanding shrub.
Mark likes the house, and he knows Eduardo must too. Probably enough to buy it, or at least look seriously at doing so, even with the work that would need to be done on the roof and the plumbing and the driveway.
"Hey, there you are," Eduardo says.
"Yeah," Mark says.
Eduardo comes and joins him at the back, looking over the abandoned fire pit with him. "I like it," he says.
"It's like the last one," Mark says.
Eduardo's face falls. "What do you mean?" he asks. "What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing," Mark says. "It's too big for one person, though."
Next to him, Eduardo goes still.
"It's a family home," Mark says. "People probably raised kids here. Grew old here." The plant beds off the porch are one step away from being a proper garden.
"Yeah," Eduardo says. "People did, actually."
Mark turns and looks at him. "This isn't a house you buy to tide you over until you move in with your boyfriend."
Eduardo looks back at him calmly. "No, I guess it isn't."
Mark shrugs, turning back to the house. "So we keep looking."
"No," Eduardo says. "I'm going to buy it."
Mark stops and looks back at him.
Eduardo smiles, a little crooked. "No reason my boyfriend can't move in with me, right?"
Mark may have only met Etienne once, but he finds it hard to believe he'd like a house like this. Or even that he'd like Eduardo changing their plans if they'd already agreed Eduardo would move to his place. "You're going to have to renovate it," Mark says.
"Are you planning on kicking me out anytime soon?" Eduardo asks, quirking an eyebrow.
"Maybe," Mark says, shrugging. "I have been looking forward to getting rid of you."
"Liar," Eduardo says affectionately, and he drags Mark over to listen to the realtor talk about pricing.
---
Eduardo spends the rest of the weekend trying to trick Mark into talking about renovations with him. He has no guarantee he'll even get the house, but he's planning as if he knows he will and as if it matters what Mark thinks of potential roof redesigns.
"Of course it matters," Eduardo says finally, "I'll never hear the end of it if you don't."
Mark shrugs and grabs a can of Mountain Dew, but he can't help smirking a little, and he does tell Eduardo that yes, putting a green roof on an already green house seems a little excessive.
They got back home around three, but Mark listens to Eduardo's research on renovating until dinnertime and then falls asleep on the couch. When he wakes up, Eduardo has put a plate of leftover spaghetti in front of him. He grabs it and the fork, standing up and finding Eduardo in the study.
His face is tight when he looks up at Mark, holding up a finger.
"Mãe," he says, voice low, and Mark understands.
He sits in the armchair in the corner of the room, turning on the reading lamp and setting his food on the side table. Eduardo spins in the chair to face the desk again, ducking his head a little as he stares at the keyboard. "No, Mãe-" he says again, but cuts off on a frustrated noise.
Eduardo talks to his mother more than Mark talks to his own, but he isn't always happy to do it. She can nag like nothing else - and Mark thought his own mother was bad. Eduardo says it's because she worries more than Mark's mother does, but Mark also knows it has something to do with the way she feels distanced from Eduardo.
It's hard to feel close to your kid, after all, if your husband makes it almost impossible for you to see him.
Eduardo's father isn't angry at Eduardo, exactly. Mark doesn't think he cares enough. Eduardo says he's just disappointed, which Mark believes, but Eduardo also says he just wants what's best for Eduardo, and Mark doesn't believe that at all. He doesn't say so anymore, because it's been years and Eduardo isn't even broken up about it any longer. He just talks to his mother on the phone a lot, complains once in a while about his father, and spends too much energy playing nice with Mark's family instead.
Mark wonders a little absently if that's why his mother apparently fell under the same misconception that theirs was a real relationship. Eduardo fakes things way too easily.
Eduardo says goodbye and hangs up, and Mark picks up his plate and eats, eyeing him.
"Stop looking at me," Eduardo says grumpily, spinning around and pinning him with a glare.
"Do you want me to call my mom?" Mark asks. "She can tell you about Randi's kid and all the newest developments in her practice and then you two can work around to the part where she tells you there's absolutely nothing wrong with you and it's your father who's the defective human being."
"You're an ass," Eduardo says. "We don't do that."
Mark frowns, unconvinced. He'd accidentally picked up the line once - yes, he knew Eduardo had answered it, but he hadn't known Eduardo wanted to talk to Mark's mother, so he maintains it wasn't rude of him to listen in and check - and then eavesdropped on ten minutes of honestly touching reassurances that sometimes parents just made mistakes but that didn't mean they didn't love their children anyway. It was very sweet, and Mark had mocked Eduardo immediately after everyone had hung up.
He'd gotten three days of angry silence and Eduardo finally telling him why he'd been a bitch for four months out of it. It turned out that being formally disowned was still possible even when you were an adult, and it also turned out that people could still get upset over it when they were millionaires and working harder than they ever had in their lives.
The final straw had been Eduardo's gay marriage, unsurprisingly, but Mark has never felt guilty - Eduardo was never going to stop being gay, Mark did him a favor. At least Eduardo had gone through it with Mark and not an actual boyfriend or spouse, who might've gotten upset at the way Eduardo moped around afterwards.
"She's been calling a lot," Eduardo says.
Mark blinks. It's unusual that Eduardo offers information about this, unprompted. It's the only thing he's secretive about.
Well, that and the boyfriend he'd been hiding.
Mark starts to consider, a little belatedly, that he might need to reevaluate how emotionally open Eduardo really is.
"She's upset about the divorce," Eduardo says. He's looking down at his fingernails.
Mark blinks again. "Yeah?"
Eduardo sighs. "She doesn't believe in divorce, she says. She says people should keep trying."
"You told her the truth about the marriage, didn't you?" Mark asks, but without much hope. They told plenty of people, and nobody else believed them. Eduardo's mother isn't going to be the one exception.
"Yes," Eduardo says lowly, and picks harder at his fingernails. He sounds almost angry. "I've told her the truth about all of it."
Mark hopes, a little vindictively, that she's given him shit about the new boyfriend. "And she's still yelling at you for the divorce?"
"Yes," Eduardo says. "I told you."
"Yeah, she thinks we should work it out," Mark repeats, sighing. "Did you tell her about your new house?"
It's not a completely weak subject change. Eduardo leaps on it, smiling. He also rolls halfway across the floor to kick Mark's knee gently, nudging him to eat. Mark eats, listening to Eduardo talk about his mother, and wonders if Etienne's mom will accept the role of surrogate, or if Mark will be expected to loan his family out for holidays even when Eduardo is no longer technically part of it.
---
And Monday brings Mark and Eduardo to Facebook in the same car, because Eduardo woke Mark up horrendously early and bribed him with pancakes so Eduardo could talk about more contractors for the new house. Mark has no idea how he gets so much information on a project like this so quickly. People don't even work on Sundays.
Once Mark has escaped Eduardo's gleeful description of landscaping for the sanctity and calming hum of his office, he settles in and sighs. He's glad Eduardo's enthusiastic, but fuck, he almost saw the wrong side of dawn this morning. That's taking it a little too far.
He eventually has to get up and get Red Bull, because his assistant has mysteriously disappeared, as she is wont to do when he wants something from her, and there's no way he'll be operating today without caffeine.
The lounge is empty and the coffee is still hot, and Mark pours a cup and dumps it half full of sugar, and drinks the entire thing, dropping the cup in the trash on his way out. He reconsiders his good luck as soon as he rounds the doorway; clearly, this whole area was just a trap.
"Fucker," Dustin says.
Mark regrets not bringing a cup of coffee with him. It would've been nice to have something to spill on Dustin's shirt. "What," he says flatly.
"You bought a new house together," Dustin says disbelievingly.
"He bought it," Mark corrects, trying to dodge him.
Dustin follows him down the hall. "He always buys everything, but you both picked it out."
"He has terrible taste," Mark says. "And no common sense."
Dustin doesn't even take the bait, neglecting to make fun of Mark for his own lack of both those things. "You bought a house with a backyard and kids' bedrooms with the guy who's currently divorcing you."
"It's going to be his house," Mark says.
"Mark," Dustin says, finally grabbing Mark's shoulder. Mark turns to look at him reluctantly and grits his teeth at the pity on Dustin's face. "Mark," Dustin says again, much more quietly. "What are you doing?"
"He wanted a house," Mark says, and pulls free of Dustin's grip.
---
It's late afternoon, a couple hours after Eduardo left Mark's office with the remains of their lunches, when Chris comes in.
"No," Mark says.
Chris sighs. "Maybe I have work for you."
Mark almost snorts. He looks up, and there it is, just like Dustin, a sort of pathetic pity waiting to strike. "No," Mark says again.
"Look," Chris starts.
"I mean it," Mark snaps. "We're not fucking talking about this."
"The house or any of it?" Chris asks.
"Any of it," Mark says tightly. "I'm tired of talking to you about it."
"Yeah," Chris says, and actually sprawls into one of the chairs in front of Mark's desk.
Mark considers throwing something at his head. "What part of no are you failing to-"
"I'm sorry," Chris says.
Mark stops.
"I haven't actually told you that, because it's been a mess and I forgot for a while that you sometimes don't notice things that should go without saying," Chris says. "So I'm sorry. I know this sucks. I really do."
The pity is gone. Instead there's a quiet sadness, honest and simple, and there's nothing Mark can do about it. Chris is sad for Mark and probably, almost certainly, somehow sad for Eduardo, too, and there's nothing Mark can do about it.
"Okay," he says, and swallows and looks away.
---
Sean's back in town for the night. He's been texting Mark incessantly the past few days, pestering him about it. Normally, Mark would've been annoyed, but right now it's his only break from the monotony of the divorce and everyone's pity. Even Mark's assistant, who hates every iota of his being, has been nice to him recently. Instead of telling Sean to fuck off, Mark texts back to ask him where to meet.
Sean replies with the name of the same restaurant they went to last time, but he also tells Mark to bring everyone else along. He specifically mentions Eduardo. He also specifically mentions, a moment after, that he didn't mean that to include Eduardo's boyfriend.
Mark has no intention of bringing Eduardo; he's not even going to mention it. But when he's shutting his laptop at the end of the day, trying to decide whether he should talk to Dustin (yes) or Chris (probably no), Eduardo lets himself into Mark's office and complains, "Sean won't leave me alone."
Mark stares. "He asked you?"
"Repeatedly," Eduardo says. "So come on, let's go, I don't want to spend more time with him than I have to."
While Eduardo nearly hauls Mark out of the building, Mark wonders why Eduardo succumbed and agreed to go at all. Chris, his Sean, and Dustin are all waiting for them, though, and Mark thinks that probably has something to do with it. Even if Chris didn't, for some reason, make Eduardo come, Eduardo probably didn't want to be left out again.
At the restaurant, they all settle into a long table along the back wall. It's more space than they need for just the six of them, but it gives them more privacy, which might've been the point. Sean had greeted Mark with a hug, which Eduardo had bristled over like usual, and then tried to greet Eduardo with one, which was so unexpected that Eduardo sort of just stood there and took it. Chris's Sean had been the only one not startled speechless by the whole thing.
When they're settled with the first round of drinks Sean orders for them - he knows everyone's favorites and had made a good guess for the other Sean - Mark waits for the other shoe to drop. Sean smiles at him, a little sly, and doesn't disappoint.
"So, Eduardo," he says. "You're the only one I'm not caught up with. Anything new in your life?"
Eduardo pretends to sip his drink, narrowing his eyes. "You know," he says. "Getting divorced, dividing up a billion dollar company, nothing overly exciting."
Sean grins and raises his glass in a toast. "Congrats," he says. "You put up with Mark longer than anyone could've expected."
Eduardo, gratifyingly, only glowers in response. Dustin and Chris, the traitors, look a little amused. Chris doesn't even try to hide it.
And that is that. Sean drops it. He doesn't ask either of them pointed questions, about the divorce or otherwise, and he doesn't needle or ignore Eduardo. By an hour in, he's tricked Eduardo into interacting with him as if he were any other person, and Eduardo only looks, at worst, bemused by it all.
For any other people, it'd be normal. Mark doesn't trust it.
Eduardo's guard is down enough that he drinks more than he normally would've. He's leaning into Mark's side a bit, and Sean is across from them. Chris and Dustin and Chris's Sean have sort of fallen into conversation (or an argument, depending upon your perspective) on their end of the table, and Mark is just starting to wonder when it's going to be decided dinner is over and who will make that decision when Sean starts talking about what he's been doing.
Mark listens back in immediately, because Sean hasn't told him anything about it, beyond the fact that it's based out of San Francisco. Sean always winds up in the weirdest, most interesting ventures, and Mark wants to know.
He's not telling the cool stories now, though. Not the jokes about how he heard of the music start-up and the nonprofit hippie venture, and not the complaints about how nobody can get their shit together, and not the anecdotes about the awesome shit that may or may not have happened but which make the best dinner conversation anyway. Instead, he's talking about all the amazing things the two companies have done, about half of which might be bullshit but would still be enough to be impressive.
Eduardo keys in to the hippie nonprofit, of course, and Mark wants to hear more about the music start-up - the fuck is Sean doing finding music start-ups in Europe, anyway - and instead of talking about the music, Sean tunes in to Eduardo and talks about that shit, instead.
Eduardo. Sean focuses his energy on getting and keeping Eduardo's attention, not Mark's, and seriously, what the fuck?
Excluded from the conversation, Mark sits back in his chair and fights the urge to gape. Chris and Sean and Dustin have either noticed something is up or they've been drawn in too, because they've fallen silent and are listening in on Eduardo and Sean's conversation.
Sean winds to a close, wrapping it up, and Eduardo seems to blink and come back to himself, looking around with a sheepish smile. He excuses himself to the restroom, and Mark leans forward and hisses, "What the fuck, Sean?"
"What's up, dude?" Sean asks innocently, like Mark doesn't know him.
"Why did you just sell Eduardo on one of your companies?" Mark demands, because that's exactly what Sean had done. And Eduardo had swallowed it, hook, line and sinker, and is probably only waiting until he comes back from the bathroom to ask how much, as if he were one of the investors Sean is always closing.
"What?" Sean repeats. "He's got money, I've got businesses that need money, we're talking it out. It's how it goes."
"Except he's not one of your investors," Mark snaps.
"Why not?" Sean asks calmly, which is-not the response Mark had been expecting. "He's got-"
"Yes, yes, he's got money," Mark says, rolling his eyes. "But he's also my CFO, not one of your investors."
"Any reason he can't be both?" Sean asks, acting as if he's been body-snatched by A Perfectly Reasonable Person.
Mark opens his mouth, then shuts it again. He knows Eduardo can't be both, because people just aren't. Mark still doesn't entirely understand business, though, so he doesn't understand why they aren't, and he can't argue a point he himself doesn't understand. Sean's got him in a corner. They've still got their silent audience of three, all watching Mark flounder for an answer.
"He'd have made a good investor," Sean adds, which is both unsolicited and the highest praise Mark has ever heard Sean give Eduardo.
Mark stares some more in shock.
"What?" Sean says, shrugging. "I'm not saying I like him. I'm just giving credit where it's due. He'd be a good investor."
"No," Mark strangles out finally, voice tight.
Sean shrugs again. "I'm just saying," he says. "Gotta acknowledge when the baby bird's earned its right to spread its wings in flight."
And that, that doesn't even make sense, so Mark feels like he's on firmer ground when he says, "He's my CFO, not an investor. Leave him out of your new business plans."
Eduardo comes back to the table then. It's some sort of signal. Sean waves for the check and they all start to stir. Eduardo follows Chris and his Sean when they stand, wandering outside to get some air.
"You're paying," Sean says cheerfully, thrusting the check at Mark.
Mark hands a card to the waitress hovering nearby, shrugging Dustin off when he tries to drape himself over Mark's shoulders.
Eduardo could've been a great investor. Eduardo could be a great investor. He's good with money and people, and he's smart, and he's experienced. He isn't just Facebook's CFO, and he doesn't have to be. He could be something else entirely.
"Earth to Mark," Dustin says. "Sean, you broke him."
"Just pointing out the obvious," Sean says. "It's kind of pathetic if I'm the one who finally points out that Eduardo's got actual talent somewhere."
"Of course he has talent," Mark says. "That's why he's our CFO."
"Yeah, but plenty of people could be CFOs," Sean says. "It's just paperwork and shit."
"And putting up with Mark," Dustin adds helpfully. "And I think Eduardo would complain about his job being called just paperwork."
"I'm just saying, he's got a thing for people," Sean says. "He could totally be out there, giving money to bad investments and crazy college kids."
"But he can't," Mark says blankly. "He's our CFO. We need him."
"You could get a new CFO," Sean says.
"Not one that would work," Mark bristles. "We need one who-"
"We don't need anything," Dustin says. "Sean's right, Facebook could get another CFO. Just because you think you need Eduardo, don't get that confused with everything else."
"Fuck you, too," Mark says automatically. "I don't need Eduardo."
Dustin raises his hands placatingly. "It doesn't matter. I don't even know why we're talking about this. He's not going anywhere."
The waitress returns the card and Mark follows Dustin out of the restaurant. Outside is a little breezy and warm, a relief from the stark newness of the restaurant. Chris and his Sean and Eduardo are at the end of the block, talking quietly. Mark can just barely hear their voices, but the words are snatched away.
He pulls Sean to the other side of the door, a little further from them. "Why did you want him here? Why are you focused on him becoming an investor?" Sean's probably begun running low on connections and needs to cultivate more. Mark has no problem with that, in theory, but he needs to cultivate them outside of Mark's circle of friends.
"I'm not," Sean says, shrugging. "It was a spur of the moment idea. I should've expected you'd obsess over it."
"I'm not-" Mark says, glaring.
"Okay, seriously, quit," Dustin says. "There's nothing to talk about. Look!" And he leans over and yells for Eduardo down the street.
"What?" Eduardo calls back.
"What would you do if Mark wanted to fire you?"
Eduardo's eyebrows go all the way up. "I'd wish him luck at forcing me out, and on the off chance he managed to do it, I'd ruin the whole company before it was final."
"You wouldn't just run off and start the hottest new investment company?" Dustin asks.
Sean is laughing. Mark could kill them both.
"No," Eduardo says. "I really don't think that would've crossed my mind."
"Awesome, thanks!" Dustin yells. He turns back to Mark. "See, told you he'd never even thought about it."
Dustin abandons him to Sean before Mark can reply, trotting out to his car to head home. Sean raises his eyebrows at Mark and says, "Really, I didn't think it'd be so easy to rock the boat."
"The boat's already been rocked," Mark says, which is both an excuse and as close to an explanation as he's going to give.
"Yeah, that divorce rumor I've been hearing," Sean says. "And something about a house."
"We're not talking about it," Mark says immediately.
"Fuck no," Sean says, just as quickly, and Mark smiles for the first time in what feels like weeks, he's so relieved.
"Go back to San Francisco," he says. "You're useless when you're not corrupting minors."
Sean grins and claps him on the shoulder. "Will do," he promises. "Answer my fucking texts once in a while. You're doing better than I thought you would be."
Mark wants to demand to know what that means, but Eduardo has come up behind him and Sean is waving goodbye once more and getting in his car, idling by the curb by virtue of a prompt valet.
"Ready?" Eduardo asks quietly.
Chris and Sean have left, too. Mark follows Eduardo to their car, uncomfortable in the silence.
"Is there anything I should know?" Eduardo asks once they're safely on the highway heading home.
"What?" Mark says.
"Firing me?" Eduardo prompts. He's smiling, Mark sees when he looks over, but it's strained.
"Sean said you'd make a good investor," Mark says. "Dustin was fucking around."
"Oh," Eduardo says. He looks confused, and their eyes meet when he slides a sideways look at Mark. "I don't want to be an investor."
"But you could be," Mark says.
Eduardo only shrugs in response.
But he shrugs because it's true. Eduardo doesn't need to be CFO of Facebook the same way Mark needs him to be. He still wants to be, so he is; but while Mark couldn't and wouldn't force him out if he didn't want to go, Mark also cannot keep him if he ever does want to leave.
It's an arrangement that's uncomfortably familiar.
Part Four
Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Epilogue
Mark doesn't see Chris for three days. He doesn't know if Chris is ashamed - Eduardo probably set him straight even better than he did Mark, because Eduardo speaks tactful interference as well as Chris does, but Chris listens better than Mark, so their discussion was undoubtedly more thorough, or possibly just quicker - or if Chris is angry at him, which is more likely. Either way, Dustin acts normal and Sean texts him intermittently, still bitching about San Francisco, and Mark just doesn't see Chris for a while.
He sees Eduardo a lot, though. More than he expected, especially considering he thought Eduardo would take advantage of the newly established boundaries to go out with Etienne all the time. Instead, Eduardo doesn't leave Mark's sight for over a week.
It's similar to how he was right after they had to deal with the press. He's always accounted for, if not always with Mark, and they barely leave the house if not together. Mark would be pleased, but Chris wasn't entirely wrong in what he'd said, and Mark doesn't want to disappoint, even if the obligations he's struggling to meet are arbitrary and unusual ones. He may only be Eduardo's soon-to-be-estranged husband, but he's going to be a good one.
The following weekend passes, and by Monday night, Mark has worked up the nerve to say, "You can go out, you know."
"What?" Eduardo asks, turning away from the fridge. He's surveying their supply of food and trying to decide whether grocery shopping is in order. Mark has tried to order their food online but Eduardo hates it, for some reason, and always manages to find an excuse to go out himself anyway.
"You've been here," Mark says. "You should've been going out more often, shouldn't you?"
Eduardo still looks confused.
"With Etienne," Mark says, and manages not to stumble or curse over the name. "You don't need to spend all your time with me. We talked about this."
"Oh," Eduardo says. His face is curiously blank. "You know I haven't been seeing him?"
Mark fights not to shift on his feet. It makes him look guilty. "Like you said, if you're not dating someone, you spend all your time with me."
"Oh," Eduardo repeats.
"You don't have to," Mark says, and shrugs.
"He's been busy," Eduardo says after another few seconds of silence. "I'm not-we just haven't had time to meet up."
"Okay," Mark says.
"We'll probably start going out again more," Eduardo adds. "In the next couple of weeks, especially. We're thinking about setting up a regular weekly date at least."
"Okay," Mark repeats, more desperately. He doesn't want to know the details.
"Yeah," Eduardo says, and Mark is vaguely gratified to see he looks almost as uncomfortable.
---
The weekly date gets set for Thursday lunch. Mark would be annoyed, possibly, at losing not just one of their lunches but an extra hour of Eduardo's time besides, because his dates with Etienne almost always last close to two hours; except they've both agreed to meet their lawyers over lunch to discuss the majority of the divorce proceedings, so they usually don't eat together now anyway.
Eduardo is also gone intermittently on weekends, disappearing in the mornings or the afternoons or the evenings with no warning to Mark. He reappears soon enough, there haven't been many - if any - overnight stays Mark has noticed, and he doesn't tell Mark what he's been doing. He dates like Chris dates: quiet and privately. Not like Dustin, who announces to the world and the next one over every minute detail.
When he is around, though, he's more present than he was before. At first, Mark thinks he might be paying more attention, giving Eduardo's presence more notice than he used to, and that's what accounts for the difference. However, once he's forced to acknowledge that, yes, Eduardo actually dragged him to the grocery store even though he doesn't like being there and Eduardo doesn't like having him, he's also forced to acknowledge that Eduardo actually is making concerted efforts to spend more time with Mark.
He drags them out to dinner, and it's not just that he's too lazy to cook. They go to a movie, and it's not just that he was tired of being at home. Eduardo is actively doing things with Mark, and Mark has no idea what's going on.
Then, almost a month later, Eduardo gets back from one of his dates and the next day commandeers Mark's attention to spend four hours eating, shopping, and letting Mark trash his movie choices on Netflix, and Mark figures it out.
Eduardo is being careful not to neglect him.
Mark stops making fun of romantic comedies. Eduardo glances at him curiously and then reaches over and pushes play on the remote, and Mark forces himself not to move away. He's angry, and he has every right to be. He's not a pet to be taken care of, given a certain amount of food and water until he blossoms in the sunlight. He's Eduardo's best fucking friend, and Eduardo has him on some sort of schedule for attention.
But the schedule has given Mark more of Eduardo's attention than he's had in years, even at a time when they've both got more reason to be pulled apart than ever, and Mark isn't stubborn enough to hold on to his anger. He's just sort of pathetically glad in the end, even when Eduardo winds up falling asleep on his shoulder in the early evening, and he doesn't tell Eduardo to stop.
---
"I'm going out today," Eduardo says a few Saturday mornings later when he wakes Mark up.
Mark squints his eyes open. "Date?"
Eduardo almost never bothers telling Mark, since his dates with Etienne are such regular occurrences. Now he usually only tells Mark if his absence is going to be an unusual occasion or particularly noticeable.
Which Mark has to admit this will be. Eduardo has never met him early Saturday with every apparent intention of spending the whole day with him before.
"No," Eduardo says. "Realtor."
Mark sits up. "Why?"
Eduardo looks to the side as he says, "She's showing me some apartments."
Mark's beginning to think ambushing him in the morning was a deliberate move on Eduardo's part. He scowls. "You said you wouldn't be moving out."
"I'm not," Eduardo says. He moves off the edge of the bed when Mark swings his feet to the floor. "But I'll have to eventually, and I thought I should at least start getting an idea of what places I'm interested in."
"You would never have to," Mark mutters, standing up. He tugs irritably at the waist of his sweatpants where they're sagging down from age.
Eduardo, when he looks up again, is smiling almost impossibly warmly. "I will have to," he says again. "But for now I was hoping you'd come look at everything with me."
Mark considers for a split second, but the thought that Eduardo may ask Etienne if he declines decides his course of action for him. "Yes, fine," he says. "I need a shirt."
"And pants that fit," Eduardo says. His hand touches Mark's side, so light and soft Mark can barely feel it. "Do you have any of the clean laundry from the maid left?"
After clothes there's breakfast, which is two omelets because Eduardo knows Mark too well. Give him a Pop-Tart and Red Bull, and he's fine for coding. It gets his brain up and running. Give him a Pop-Tart and Red Bull and ask him to actually move, and Mark would've made Eduardo's apartment hunt a living hell.
Then Eduardo drives them to the realtor's office where they're supposed to meet her. It's pretty close by and directly on the path between the lawyers' offices and Facebook. That answers how Eduardo started looking: he probably wandered into the realtor's one day out of curiosity and let things spiral from there.
The lady that greets them upon their entrance is scarily chipper for the early morning hours, and Mark knows it's not just him who thinks so - Eduardo hides a wince as she yaps out a, "Hello!" that could probably set dogs barking. She immediately follows it up with a seemingly endless stream of chatter as she hustles them out to the corporate car she'll be driving them around in and tells them to buckle up. Immediately following that, she starts the car and starts up a running list of the positives of the first property she's taking them to see.
Mark hates salespeople. He has to give her credit, though - besides a quick double-take when she first recognizes him, she doesn't let on she has any idea who they are or what they're doing besides looking for a new apartment.
The condo she takes them to - "You said you were looking to rent, I know, but this place is a great deal!" she proclaims, and Mark bristles, wondering if Eduardo is already thinking about when he'll be moving out of any condo or apartment he rents and if that thinking involves plans to move in with Etienne - is over twenty minutes away. It's on the far edge of the city, and the commute to Facebook would probably be nearly half an hour.
It's beautiful inside, all hardwood floors and marble countertops and large, overly impressive archways, with classic furniture barely filling the rooms. It manages to look like every other property in California, and also like it's trying too hard.
Mark yawns and sits on the couch while the realtor shows Eduardo around.
He naps a little bit and pretends to fight waking up when Eduardo shakes him. If Eduardo wants Mark's cooperation, he's going to have to work for it.
"I know you're awake, you asshole," Eduardo says fondly, flicking Mark's ear, and Mark makes a grumpy noise and stands up resignedly.
"So, what do you think?" the realtor asks as they follow the click of her sensible heels back down the stairs. "Did you like it? What'd you like? Any negatives? The price point is-"
"It's too far away," Mark says.
The realtor actually stops for a second and blinks at him, surprised. Eduardo looks at him quickly, then looks at her and smiles apologetically, and says, "Yeah, it's definitely further than I'm willing to go."
The next property is a rental, as per Eduardo's specifications, but it's a house. There's a small, neat front lawn and a pathway lined with rocks, leading up to an incredibly ugly one-story Southwestern style house.
"No," Mark says. He doesn't bother getting out of the car.
"It's hideous," Eduardo agrees, and slides back in. After a second where her smile falters, the realtor slides back in and moves on.
They visit three more properties, only two of which they tour. The one they skip is an apartment in a gated community. There's a guardhouse they have to check in at, and there are assigned parking spaces, and the buildings are made entirely of glass and metal. They're two stories, and the realtor touts the high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows of the second story units.
"No," Mark says again, and Eduardo agrees again, and again, they leave without even getting out of the car.
"Maybe you could tell me a little more about what you have in mind?" the realtor suggests, voice tight. She's no longer smiling. "I am trying to find something you'll like."
"Well, I only have a vague idea still," Eduardo says, looking a little embarrassed, but the realtor, when she glances back at them, looks at Mark.
"Try harder," Mark says.
The next two, to her credit, are better. One is a condo where instead of renting, Eduardo would have to buy a share in the building and surrounding complex. It's quiet and classy and somewhat set off from the freeway, which is nice.
Eduardo looks at Mark when they park in front of the wood and brick unit, and Mark shrugs and unbuckles his seatbelt.
"Here we have a two bedroom, two bathroom unit," the realtor says, watching them both carefully as they take an outside elevator up to the fifth floor. "You'll have no upstairs neighbors so there won't be much noise there. It's got an open floor design: the living room is spacious and opens onto the dining room. The kitchen, as you'll see, opens off to the other side of the living room." She unlocks the door and gestures for them to go in first.
The floors are all hardwood, gleaming softly in the track lighting. The rooms are huge, and there's two large windows off the back of the living room.
"There is an option to have the unit furnished for you before you move in," the realtor says, once they've stared across the empty expanse for a while. "And if you'll follow me, I'll give you the tour."
Mark trails them, tuning her out as she describes the appliances in the kitchen and the AC and security systems, then, looking heartened by Eduardo's casual questions and Mark's lack of objections, takes them down a small hallway off the front of the living room that leads to the bedrooms.
"This is the smaller of the two," she says, flipping a light switch and revealing a room that is at least half again as large as the ones Mark and Eduardo have in their house now. "The bathroom and walk-in closet are back through there, as you can see. This second door is a linen closet. And here, on the other side of the hall, we have the master suite."
She herds them into it a little unsubtly. It's probably twice the size of their current bedrooms, and there are more of the large windows. The view looks over the rest of complex.
"Well?" Eduardo asks. They walk a little away from the realtor. "What did you think?"
"Lots of space," Mark says. "For you?"
"Too big for one person," Eduardo agrees, and tells the realtor he's looking for something a little smaller.
She's looking incredibly frustrated by this point, but apparently she only works until three on Saturdays and she wants to show them one more place today. On the way over she assures them, sounding a little desperate, that she's saved the best for last.
And as soon as they pull up, Mark knows Eduardo will love it. It's a small house, located off a quiet street in a suburb about fifteen minutes from Facebook and twenty minutes from where they currently live. It's got a yard all around it, plenty of trees, and a high fence that makes it feel as if there's no other houses around at all.
It's old. They climb out of the car, parked in front of the separate garage, and take the cracking stone walkway to the front door. The realtor pulls out her keys and explains about the property, sounding a little nervous. It's in need of repairs, apparently, some pretty extensive ones. The driveway is uneven and cracking almost beyond the point of usability. It'll need to be torn out and replaced, which will require the gate and a section of the fence to be removed. The roof is about to give in places, and it obviously hasn't been lived in for at least a year.
"The kitchen will need some updating," she says. "Maybe a remodel. The floors are all in excellent condition. They're actually original from when the house was first built. You see those windows? They're rare to still find intact like this."
Mark can't see how they're any different, except they have large windowsills and the glass is a little wavering, with bubbles and pockets that make the sunlight show in waves instead of sharp hard lines.
The kitchen has a second area for a table and chairs, and then there's a separate dining room. The living room opens off the main entryway, with a large staircase against the back wall under the special windows and a bathroom and screened porch off the other main wall. She takes them upstairs, warning them not to lean on the banister, which is also original to the house but also in need of repair.
There are four bedrooms upstairs: two much smaller ones off to the side which share a bathroom, and then two larger ones with their own bathrooms and walk-in closets. They're nothing special, though the master bedroom has more of that weird glass and a window seat, and the bathroom has all the original plumbing fixtures.
Which would need to be replaced, the realtor explains a little apologetically. Mark wonders how she decided this place was a good option when Eduardo said he wanted a place to rent that could function as a short-term residence.
"So?" Eduardo asks, coming up to Mark, who's looking out over the yard, one knee on the window seat.
"It's exactly like our current house," Mark says, which isn't true. Their current house is a ranch-style building, all carpet and tile and semi-rustic landscaping. It's only a little older than Facebook, and it's already showing its age, browning around the edges and cracking at the windowsills. It's not a place people are meant to spend their lives, not like this house clearly is.
"It's got four bedrooms," Eduardo says. "Our current house only has three."
"So we'd have two studies instead of one," Mark says. "You'd hate it. You'd get bored if you had to pretend to work by yourself all the time."
"Or it would be a guest bedroom," Eduardo counters.
"We never have people stay over," Mark says.
"Because we don't have a guest bedroom," Eduardo says, as if he's won.
Mark rolls his eyes.
"So," the realtor says, probably smelling blood in the water. "Should I tell you more about the neighborhood? The history of the house? California doesn't have a lot of old properties, but this isn't a new development."
"I don't care," Mark says, shrugging.
"Sure," Eduardo says, and the realtor cuddles up to him to talk about things like the light fixtures and the stair banister being an exemplification of a bygone era.
Mark leaves them, wandering back downstairs and out to the backyard. It's overgrown, like the property's been vacant for a while. It probably has - most people are looking for shiny, beautiful new homes, not real houses that require maintenance and lawn upkeep. This lawn certainly needs a gardener, Mark thinks, looking around, but once upon a time it had good landscaping. There's green everywhere and enough plants that the air doesn't just smell like city even though they're only five minutes from the freeway.
He walks off the porch, dragging his sandals through the overgrown grass and wondering who used to live here. A family, probably, one with kids and a dog running around. A cat that laid on the porch. Friends that came over for barbecues in the fire pit that's now half-hidden by an expanding shrub.
Mark likes the house, and he knows Eduardo must too. Probably enough to buy it, or at least look seriously at doing so, even with the work that would need to be done on the roof and the plumbing and the driveway.
"Hey, there you are," Eduardo says.
"Yeah," Mark says.
Eduardo comes and joins him at the back, looking over the abandoned fire pit with him. "I like it," he says.
"It's like the last one," Mark says.
Eduardo's face falls. "What do you mean?" he asks. "What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing," Mark says. "It's too big for one person, though."
Next to him, Eduardo goes still.
"It's a family home," Mark says. "People probably raised kids here. Grew old here." The plant beds off the porch are one step away from being a proper garden.
"Yeah," Eduardo says. "People did, actually."
Mark turns and looks at him. "This isn't a house you buy to tide you over until you move in with your boyfriend."
Eduardo looks back at him calmly. "No, I guess it isn't."
Mark shrugs, turning back to the house. "So we keep looking."
"No," Eduardo says. "I'm going to buy it."
Mark stops and looks back at him.
Eduardo smiles, a little crooked. "No reason my boyfriend can't move in with me, right?"
Mark may have only met Etienne once, but he finds it hard to believe he'd like a house like this. Or even that he'd like Eduardo changing their plans if they'd already agreed Eduardo would move to his place. "You're going to have to renovate it," Mark says.
"Are you planning on kicking me out anytime soon?" Eduardo asks, quirking an eyebrow.
"Maybe," Mark says, shrugging. "I have been looking forward to getting rid of you."
"Liar," Eduardo says affectionately, and he drags Mark over to listen to the realtor talk about pricing.
---
Eduardo spends the rest of the weekend trying to trick Mark into talking about renovations with him. He has no guarantee he'll even get the house, but he's planning as if he knows he will and as if it matters what Mark thinks of potential roof redesigns.
"Of course it matters," Eduardo says finally, "I'll never hear the end of it if you don't."
Mark shrugs and grabs a can of Mountain Dew, but he can't help smirking a little, and he does tell Eduardo that yes, putting a green roof on an already green house seems a little excessive.
They got back home around three, but Mark listens to Eduardo's research on renovating until dinnertime and then falls asleep on the couch. When he wakes up, Eduardo has put a plate of leftover spaghetti in front of him. He grabs it and the fork, standing up and finding Eduardo in the study.
His face is tight when he looks up at Mark, holding up a finger.
"Mãe," he says, voice low, and Mark understands.
He sits in the armchair in the corner of the room, turning on the reading lamp and setting his food on the side table. Eduardo spins in the chair to face the desk again, ducking his head a little as he stares at the keyboard. "No, Mãe-" he says again, but cuts off on a frustrated noise.
Eduardo talks to his mother more than Mark talks to his own, but he isn't always happy to do it. She can nag like nothing else - and Mark thought his own mother was bad. Eduardo says it's because she worries more than Mark's mother does, but Mark also knows it has something to do with the way she feels distanced from Eduardo.
It's hard to feel close to your kid, after all, if your husband makes it almost impossible for you to see him.
Eduardo's father isn't angry at Eduardo, exactly. Mark doesn't think he cares enough. Eduardo says he's just disappointed, which Mark believes, but Eduardo also says he just wants what's best for Eduardo, and Mark doesn't believe that at all. He doesn't say so anymore, because it's been years and Eduardo isn't even broken up about it any longer. He just talks to his mother on the phone a lot, complains once in a while about his father, and spends too much energy playing nice with Mark's family instead.
Mark wonders a little absently if that's why his mother apparently fell under the same misconception that theirs was a real relationship. Eduardo fakes things way too easily.
Eduardo says goodbye and hangs up, and Mark picks up his plate and eats, eyeing him.
"Stop looking at me," Eduardo says grumpily, spinning around and pinning him with a glare.
"Do you want me to call my mom?" Mark asks. "She can tell you about Randi's kid and all the newest developments in her practice and then you two can work around to the part where she tells you there's absolutely nothing wrong with you and it's your father who's the defective human being."
"You're an ass," Eduardo says. "We don't do that."
Mark frowns, unconvinced. He'd accidentally picked up the line once - yes, he knew Eduardo had answered it, but he hadn't known Eduardo wanted to talk to Mark's mother, so he maintains it wasn't rude of him to listen in and check - and then eavesdropped on ten minutes of honestly touching reassurances that sometimes parents just made mistakes but that didn't mean they didn't love their children anyway. It was very sweet, and Mark had mocked Eduardo immediately after everyone had hung up.
He'd gotten three days of angry silence and Eduardo finally telling him why he'd been a bitch for four months out of it. It turned out that being formally disowned was still possible even when you were an adult, and it also turned out that people could still get upset over it when they were millionaires and working harder than they ever had in their lives.
The final straw had been Eduardo's gay marriage, unsurprisingly, but Mark has never felt guilty - Eduardo was never going to stop being gay, Mark did him a favor. At least Eduardo had gone through it with Mark and not an actual boyfriend or spouse, who might've gotten upset at the way Eduardo moped around afterwards.
"She's been calling a lot," Eduardo says.
Mark blinks. It's unusual that Eduardo offers information about this, unprompted. It's the only thing he's secretive about.
Well, that and the boyfriend he'd been hiding.
Mark starts to consider, a little belatedly, that he might need to reevaluate how emotionally open Eduardo really is.
"She's upset about the divorce," Eduardo says. He's looking down at his fingernails.
Mark blinks again. "Yeah?"
Eduardo sighs. "She doesn't believe in divorce, she says. She says people should keep trying."
"You told her the truth about the marriage, didn't you?" Mark asks, but without much hope. They told plenty of people, and nobody else believed them. Eduardo's mother isn't going to be the one exception.
"Yes," Eduardo says lowly, and picks harder at his fingernails. He sounds almost angry. "I've told her the truth about all of it."
Mark hopes, a little vindictively, that she's given him shit about the new boyfriend. "And she's still yelling at you for the divorce?"
"Yes," Eduardo says. "I told you."
"Yeah, she thinks we should work it out," Mark repeats, sighing. "Did you tell her about your new house?"
It's not a completely weak subject change. Eduardo leaps on it, smiling. He also rolls halfway across the floor to kick Mark's knee gently, nudging him to eat. Mark eats, listening to Eduardo talk about his mother, and wonders if Etienne's mom will accept the role of surrogate, or if Mark will be expected to loan his family out for holidays even when Eduardo is no longer technically part of it.
---
And Monday brings Mark and Eduardo to Facebook in the same car, because Eduardo woke Mark up horrendously early and bribed him with pancakes so Eduardo could talk about more contractors for the new house. Mark has no idea how he gets so much information on a project like this so quickly. People don't even work on Sundays.
Once Mark has escaped Eduardo's gleeful description of landscaping for the sanctity and calming hum of his office, he settles in and sighs. He's glad Eduardo's enthusiastic, but fuck, he almost saw the wrong side of dawn this morning. That's taking it a little too far.
He eventually has to get up and get Red Bull, because his assistant has mysteriously disappeared, as she is wont to do when he wants something from her, and there's no way he'll be operating today without caffeine.
The lounge is empty and the coffee is still hot, and Mark pours a cup and dumps it half full of sugar, and drinks the entire thing, dropping the cup in the trash on his way out. He reconsiders his good luck as soon as he rounds the doorway; clearly, this whole area was just a trap.
"Fucker," Dustin says.
Mark regrets not bringing a cup of coffee with him. It would've been nice to have something to spill on Dustin's shirt. "What," he says flatly.
"You bought a new house together," Dustin says disbelievingly.
"He bought it," Mark corrects, trying to dodge him.
Dustin follows him down the hall. "He always buys everything, but you both picked it out."
"He has terrible taste," Mark says. "And no common sense."
Dustin doesn't even take the bait, neglecting to make fun of Mark for his own lack of both those things. "You bought a house with a backyard and kids' bedrooms with the guy who's currently divorcing you."
"It's going to be his house," Mark says.
"Mark," Dustin says, finally grabbing Mark's shoulder. Mark turns to look at him reluctantly and grits his teeth at the pity on Dustin's face. "Mark," Dustin says again, much more quietly. "What are you doing?"
"He wanted a house," Mark says, and pulls free of Dustin's grip.
---
It's late afternoon, a couple hours after Eduardo left Mark's office with the remains of their lunches, when Chris comes in.
"No," Mark says.
Chris sighs. "Maybe I have work for you."
Mark almost snorts. He looks up, and there it is, just like Dustin, a sort of pathetic pity waiting to strike. "No," Mark says again.
"Look," Chris starts.
"I mean it," Mark snaps. "We're not fucking talking about this."
"The house or any of it?" Chris asks.
"Any of it," Mark says tightly. "I'm tired of talking to you about it."
"Yeah," Chris says, and actually sprawls into one of the chairs in front of Mark's desk.
Mark considers throwing something at his head. "What part of no are you failing to-"
"I'm sorry," Chris says.
Mark stops.
"I haven't actually told you that, because it's been a mess and I forgot for a while that you sometimes don't notice things that should go without saying," Chris says. "So I'm sorry. I know this sucks. I really do."
The pity is gone. Instead there's a quiet sadness, honest and simple, and there's nothing Mark can do about it. Chris is sad for Mark and probably, almost certainly, somehow sad for Eduardo, too, and there's nothing Mark can do about it.
"Okay," he says, and swallows and looks away.
---
Sean's back in town for the night. He's been texting Mark incessantly the past few days, pestering him about it. Normally, Mark would've been annoyed, but right now it's his only break from the monotony of the divorce and everyone's pity. Even Mark's assistant, who hates every iota of his being, has been nice to him recently. Instead of telling Sean to fuck off, Mark texts back to ask him where to meet.
Sean replies with the name of the same restaurant they went to last time, but he also tells Mark to bring everyone else along. He specifically mentions Eduardo. He also specifically mentions, a moment after, that he didn't mean that to include Eduardo's boyfriend.
Mark has no intention of bringing Eduardo; he's not even going to mention it. But when he's shutting his laptop at the end of the day, trying to decide whether he should talk to Dustin (yes) or Chris (probably no), Eduardo lets himself into Mark's office and complains, "Sean won't leave me alone."
Mark stares. "He asked you?"
"Repeatedly," Eduardo says. "So come on, let's go, I don't want to spend more time with him than I have to."
While Eduardo nearly hauls Mark out of the building, Mark wonders why Eduardo succumbed and agreed to go at all. Chris, his Sean, and Dustin are all waiting for them, though, and Mark thinks that probably has something to do with it. Even if Chris didn't, for some reason, make Eduardo come, Eduardo probably didn't want to be left out again.
At the restaurant, they all settle into a long table along the back wall. It's more space than they need for just the six of them, but it gives them more privacy, which might've been the point. Sean had greeted Mark with a hug, which Eduardo had bristled over like usual, and then tried to greet Eduardo with one, which was so unexpected that Eduardo sort of just stood there and took it. Chris's Sean had been the only one not startled speechless by the whole thing.
When they're settled with the first round of drinks Sean orders for them - he knows everyone's favorites and had made a good guess for the other Sean - Mark waits for the other shoe to drop. Sean smiles at him, a little sly, and doesn't disappoint.
"So, Eduardo," he says. "You're the only one I'm not caught up with. Anything new in your life?"
Eduardo pretends to sip his drink, narrowing his eyes. "You know," he says. "Getting divorced, dividing up a billion dollar company, nothing overly exciting."
Sean grins and raises his glass in a toast. "Congrats," he says. "You put up with Mark longer than anyone could've expected."
Eduardo, gratifyingly, only glowers in response. Dustin and Chris, the traitors, look a little amused. Chris doesn't even try to hide it.
And that is that. Sean drops it. He doesn't ask either of them pointed questions, about the divorce or otherwise, and he doesn't needle or ignore Eduardo. By an hour in, he's tricked Eduardo into interacting with him as if he were any other person, and Eduardo only looks, at worst, bemused by it all.
For any other people, it'd be normal. Mark doesn't trust it.
Eduardo's guard is down enough that he drinks more than he normally would've. He's leaning into Mark's side a bit, and Sean is across from them. Chris and Dustin and Chris's Sean have sort of fallen into conversation (or an argument, depending upon your perspective) on their end of the table, and Mark is just starting to wonder when it's going to be decided dinner is over and who will make that decision when Sean starts talking about what he's been doing.
Mark listens back in immediately, because Sean hasn't told him anything about it, beyond the fact that it's based out of San Francisco. Sean always winds up in the weirdest, most interesting ventures, and Mark wants to know.
He's not telling the cool stories now, though. Not the jokes about how he heard of the music start-up and the nonprofit hippie venture, and not the complaints about how nobody can get their shit together, and not the anecdotes about the awesome shit that may or may not have happened but which make the best dinner conversation anyway. Instead, he's talking about all the amazing things the two companies have done, about half of which might be bullshit but would still be enough to be impressive.
Eduardo keys in to the hippie nonprofit, of course, and Mark wants to hear more about the music start-up - the fuck is Sean doing finding music start-ups in Europe, anyway - and instead of talking about the music, Sean tunes in to Eduardo and talks about that shit, instead.
Eduardo. Sean focuses his energy on getting and keeping Eduardo's attention, not Mark's, and seriously, what the fuck?
Excluded from the conversation, Mark sits back in his chair and fights the urge to gape. Chris and Sean and Dustin have either noticed something is up or they've been drawn in too, because they've fallen silent and are listening in on Eduardo and Sean's conversation.
Sean winds to a close, wrapping it up, and Eduardo seems to blink and come back to himself, looking around with a sheepish smile. He excuses himself to the restroom, and Mark leans forward and hisses, "What the fuck, Sean?"
"What's up, dude?" Sean asks innocently, like Mark doesn't know him.
"Why did you just sell Eduardo on one of your companies?" Mark demands, because that's exactly what Sean had done. And Eduardo had swallowed it, hook, line and sinker, and is probably only waiting until he comes back from the bathroom to ask how much, as if he were one of the investors Sean is always closing.
"What?" Sean repeats. "He's got money, I've got businesses that need money, we're talking it out. It's how it goes."
"Except he's not one of your investors," Mark snaps.
"Why not?" Sean asks calmly, which is-not the response Mark had been expecting. "He's got-"
"Yes, yes, he's got money," Mark says, rolling his eyes. "But he's also my CFO, not one of your investors."
"Any reason he can't be both?" Sean asks, acting as if he's been body-snatched by A Perfectly Reasonable Person.
Mark opens his mouth, then shuts it again. He knows Eduardo can't be both, because people just aren't. Mark still doesn't entirely understand business, though, so he doesn't understand why they aren't, and he can't argue a point he himself doesn't understand. Sean's got him in a corner. They've still got their silent audience of three, all watching Mark flounder for an answer.
"He'd have made a good investor," Sean adds, which is both unsolicited and the highest praise Mark has ever heard Sean give Eduardo.
Mark stares some more in shock.
"What?" Sean says, shrugging. "I'm not saying I like him. I'm just giving credit where it's due. He'd be a good investor."
"No," Mark strangles out finally, voice tight.
Sean shrugs again. "I'm just saying," he says. "Gotta acknowledge when the baby bird's earned its right to spread its wings in flight."
And that, that doesn't even make sense, so Mark feels like he's on firmer ground when he says, "He's my CFO, not an investor. Leave him out of your new business plans."
Eduardo comes back to the table then. It's some sort of signal. Sean waves for the check and they all start to stir. Eduardo follows Chris and his Sean when they stand, wandering outside to get some air.
"You're paying," Sean says cheerfully, thrusting the check at Mark.
Mark hands a card to the waitress hovering nearby, shrugging Dustin off when he tries to drape himself over Mark's shoulders.
Eduardo could've been a great investor. Eduardo could be a great investor. He's good with money and people, and he's smart, and he's experienced. He isn't just Facebook's CFO, and he doesn't have to be. He could be something else entirely.
"Earth to Mark," Dustin says. "Sean, you broke him."
"Just pointing out the obvious," Sean says. "It's kind of pathetic if I'm the one who finally points out that Eduardo's got actual talent somewhere."
"Of course he has talent," Mark says. "That's why he's our CFO."
"Yeah, but plenty of people could be CFOs," Sean says. "It's just paperwork and shit."
"And putting up with Mark," Dustin adds helpfully. "And I think Eduardo would complain about his job being called just paperwork."
"I'm just saying, he's got a thing for people," Sean says. "He could totally be out there, giving money to bad investments and crazy college kids."
"But he can't," Mark says blankly. "He's our CFO. We need him."
"You could get a new CFO," Sean says.
"Not one that would work," Mark bristles. "We need one who-"
"We don't need anything," Dustin says. "Sean's right, Facebook could get another CFO. Just because you think you need Eduardo, don't get that confused with everything else."
"Fuck you, too," Mark says automatically. "I don't need Eduardo."
Dustin raises his hands placatingly. "It doesn't matter. I don't even know why we're talking about this. He's not going anywhere."
The waitress returns the card and Mark follows Dustin out of the restaurant. Outside is a little breezy and warm, a relief from the stark newness of the restaurant. Chris and his Sean and Eduardo are at the end of the block, talking quietly. Mark can just barely hear their voices, but the words are snatched away.
He pulls Sean to the other side of the door, a little further from them. "Why did you want him here? Why are you focused on him becoming an investor?" Sean's probably begun running low on connections and needs to cultivate more. Mark has no problem with that, in theory, but he needs to cultivate them outside of Mark's circle of friends.
"I'm not," Sean says, shrugging. "It was a spur of the moment idea. I should've expected you'd obsess over it."
"I'm not-" Mark says, glaring.
"Okay, seriously, quit," Dustin says. "There's nothing to talk about. Look!" And he leans over and yells for Eduardo down the street.
"What?" Eduardo calls back.
"What would you do if Mark wanted to fire you?"
Eduardo's eyebrows go all the way up. "I'd wish him luck at forcing me out, and on the off chance he managed to do it, I'd ruin the whole company before it was final."
"You wouldn't just run off and start the hottest new investment company?" Dustin asks.
Sean is laughing. Mark could kill them both.
"No," Eduardo says. "I really don't think that would've crossed my mind."
"Awesome, thanks!" Dustin yells. He turns back to Mark. "See, told you he'd never even thought about it."
Dustin abandons him to Sean before Mark can reply, trotting out to his car to head home. Sean raises his eyebrows at Mark and says, "Really, I didn't think it'd be so easy to rock the boat."
"The boat's already been rocked," Mark says, which is both an excuse and as close to an explanation as he's going to give.
"Yeah, that divorce rumor I've been hearing," Sean says. "And something about a house."
"We're not talking about it," Mark says immediately.
"Fuck no," Sean says, just as quickly, and Mark smiles for the first time in what feels like weeks, he's so relieved.
"Go back to San Francisco," he says. "You're useless when you're not corrupting minors."
Sean grins and claps him on the shoulder. "Will do," he promises. "Answer my fucking texts once in a while. You're doing better than I thought you would be."
Mark wants to demand to know what that means, but Eduardo has come up behind him and Sean is waving goodbye once more and getting in his car, idling by the curb by virtue of a prompt valet.
"Ready?" Eduardo asks quietly.
Chris and Sean have left, too. Mark follows Eduardo to their car, uncomfortable in the silence.
"Is there anything I should know?" Eduardo asks once they're safely on the highway heading home.
"What?" Mark says.
"Firing me?" Eduardo prompts. He's smiling, Mark sees when he looks over, but it's strained.
"Sean said you'd make a good investor," Mark says. "Dustin was fucking around."
"Oh," Eduardo says. He looks confused, and their eyes meet when he slides a sideways look at Mark. "I don't want to be an investor."
"But you could be," Mark says.
Eduardo only shrugs in response.
But he shrugs because it's true. Eduardo doesn't need to be CFO of Facebook the same way Mark needs him to be. He still wants to be, so he is; but while Mark couldn't and wouldn't force him out if he didn't want to go, Mark also cannot keep him if he ever does want to leave.
It's an arrangement that's uncomfortably familiar.
Part Four