Rating:

Explicit

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

The Social Network

Relationship:

Eduardo/Mark

Tags:

anal sex, barebacking, prompt/gift/request, pwp

Stats:

Posted on:

2017-07-15

Words:

4,117

Eduardo’s relationships since the lawsuit have been highly publicized, to the point that when Mark sees Dustin in the bullpen reading an article about Eduardo and his latest beau, some man named Harry, Mark hovers over his shoulder and hisses, “Close the window or get fired.”

“You can’t fire me,” Dustin says. “I’ve saved your ass too many times to count.”

“Want to test that?” Mark says, so Dustin shuts up and closes the window on his internet browser.

Honestly, Mark’s tempted to ban all news and gossip sites within his proximity, or at least when he’s at Facebook because he doesn’t have that much power yet. But then he wouldn’t be able to look up the articles on his own, late at night when he’s delirious and probably needs to get some sleep. That’s when Mark clicks to People dot com or US Weekly and reads about Eduardo’s latest boyfriend, whether it’s Harry or Timothy or Marcus or whoever the fuck else.

The most startling thing about Eduardo’s boyfriends–other than his having boyfriends, which threw Mark off, he didn’t know Eduardo was gay or bisexual or whatever, since he’d only dated girls in college–is that they’ve all got like. Tattoos, or leather jackets, or piercings, or all three. It’s weird to see pictures of Eduardo in his ubiquitous three-piece suit standing next to them, walking with them, looking inquisitive or laughing at something they’re saying. Mark scowls and crosses his arms over his chest, over his blanket, where his laptop is resting up on his knees. These guys can’t be that interesting.

And Mark isn’t the type to judge a book by its cover–or, well, he won’t care half enough to, anyway–but. Seriously. Eduardo has a type? Eduardo has a type and it’s guys covered with tattoos? Well, there was one normal-looking guy, but Mark had read an interview that Eduardo and he had done on Oprah (and why Eduardo and his boyfriend had gone on Oprah was beyond Mark) and the guy was kind of an asshole. Mark didn’t know why Eduardo dated him.

Mark doesn’t know why Eduardo is dating any of these guys.

It’s when Eduardo and his latest boyfriend break up–which is all over the news, apparently the guy had cheated on Eduardo, what a dick–that Mark decides to do something about it. Eduardo has relocated to New York since the lawsuits, and it doesn’t take much for Mark to find an excuse to go there. There’s always fundraisers or companies he has stock in or, like, starving children who need feeding.

So Mark comes to New York and attends the function like a good CEO, to appease his assistant who is looking at him strangely. She’d been kind of suspicious ever since Mark asked her, “What’s the next function in New York that I might need to go to?” but she’s also long learned that it’s better to do as Mark asks than ask why.

Mark manages to get through the function, and then he’s bribing Eduardo’s assistant to give him Eduardo’s address, which his assistant does way too easily. Mark will have to get Eduardo to fire him later. His assistant lacks the resilience that Mark had expected someone like Eduardo to have in an iassistant.

Mark makes his way to Eduardo’s apartment, taking the elevator up to the eighth floor, finding Eduardo’s door easily and knocking on it. It occurs to him that this is probably really creepy and incredibly inappropriate, not to mention particularly illegal considering the non-disclosure agreements they’d signed a couple of years ago.

But Eduardo’s dating guys with tattoos of skulls. What’s Mark supposed to do about that?

Eduardo opens the door and outright gapes at Mark. Mark shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets and says, “Hi Wardo.”

Eduardo stares, and then sputters out, “You have no – what are you – hi? – why are you even – Mark.”

Mark blinks back. Eduardo’s mouth is hanging open, and he seems at a loss for words. Mark doesn’t know if he’s supposed to give him time, or say something – Eduardo’s taking up the whole of the doorway, so Mark can’t shove himself in.

Mark says again, “How are you?”

“How am I?” Eduardo demands. “You have no right to – you lost the right to – why are you even – why do you care?”

“Since you and your boyfriend broke up,” Mark says. “I was just making sure you’re okay.”

Eduardo explodes. “Since when do you care?”

“Well, when you’re all over the news,” Mark fires back. “You know, I can’t walk into the office without someone – Dustin – reading about you and your latest boyfriend? It’s hard to avoid.”

“So’s Facebook,” Eduardo says without pause for second thought. “I can’t walk into a coffee shop without seeing someone on Facebook on their phone, talking about Facebook–”

“So I guess we’re even,” Mark declares.

“I guess,” Eduardo agrees.

Mark doesn’t even know what they’re arguing about. Eduardo’s frowning like he’s confused too, and continues watching Mark, who has no reason to budge from where he’s standing. Eduardo hasn’t closed the door in his face, which is a good sign. Mark wonders how forward he should be.

“So you’re single now,” he says to Eduardo.

Eduardo narrows his eyes at him. “Why does it matter to you?”

Mark shrugs, but Eduardo’s eyes are sharp – he’s tracking every one of Mark’s moves, suddenly, Mark knows, and Mark is careful not to fidget or blush too much. “I wanted to see if you wanted some,” Mark says, looking for the right word. “Consolation.”

Eduardo snorts. “You’re offering to console me?”

“I mean, either that, or…” Mark says, shrugging again. Eduardo doesn’t seem to get the message, so he adds, “Since you’re single, there’s other ways of. Comforting you.”

Under any other circumstance, i.e. when he was in college and his best friend hovered over his shoulder and gave him nineteen thousand dollars for a dumb project and the heat in Mark’s stomach was something that was an afterthought, a place of terror, Mark never would’ve taken the chance. But right now, he and Eduardo aren’t supposed to be talking–aren’t supposed to be friends. There’s absolutely nothing for Mark to lose, since, frankly, he’s already lost all of it–Eduardo can’t possibly hate him more, can’t do anything to surprise Mark. If he laughs in Mark’s face–that’s fine. If he says no and slams the door–that’s fine. If he tells Mark that he’s a slut and that he never wants to see Mark again and then files a restraining order against him–that’s fine, too.

Eduardo stares, but Mark knows that Eduardo is capable of making those intuitive leaps, especially when it comes to him.

Eduardo says, “Are you offering pity sex to me?”

“It’s not out of pity,” Mark argues.

Letting out a laugh of disbelief, Eduardo covers a hand with his face. “Christ, Mark,” he says, before taking his hand away. “Okay. No.”

“No?”

“No,” Eduardo says firmly. “But you can come in if you want. I could use the company.”

His words are so out of left field that it takes a moment for Mark to process, where he’s just standing in the hallway while Eduardo looks at him expectantly. Then Mark says, “Okay,” and Eduardo says, “Okay,” stepping aside and letting Mark into his apartment.

It’s modern, as Mark would’ve expected, a glass of wine in the middle of the table, one end of it looking slightly ruffled like that’s where Eduardo usually sits when he eats. Eduardo asks, “You still don’t drink coffee?”

“Not really,” Mark says, looking around to the decorations around Eduardo’s apartment, some of the picture frames. At least there aren’t any photos of his boyfriends–it’s all just family, or friends from Harvard. Mark even spies a picture of him and Eduardo and Chris and Dustin sitting on a dresser, and wonder Eduardo has it out.

Eduardo grabs two wine glasses from his kitchen and offers, “Wine?” Mark shrugs, which Eduardo rolls his eyes at and fills the glasses up. He gives Mark his glass, and Mark holds it by the cup and drinks heartily. Eduardo shoots him a sarcastic, fond smile, sipping from his own glass delicately.

“So,” Eduardo says, clearing his throat. “What warranted this proposition?”

Mark fidgets, doing his best to not flush self-consciously. “What do you think?” he says.

“I don’t know,” Eduardo says. “Regret? Jealousy? A late realization that you wanted to have sex with me?”

He’s right on the money with all three, so Mark takes another gulp of his drink and tries to find his bravado. “I thought you might’ve said yes,” he says. “Considering your dating history.”

Eduardo widens his eyes. “My dating history?”

“You know, all the – “ Mark gestures. “Guys with tattoos. Piercings. Leather jackets.” He scrunches his face. “I didn’t even know that was your type.”

“It’s not my type,” Eduardo says. “I’ve only dated three guys with tattoos, two with piercings, two with leather jackets–”

“That’s including the guy who had all three, right?”

“Timothy was perfectly fine, thank you very much,” Eduardo says. He takes a sip of his wine again. “Our breakup was mutual.”

“Was it,” Mark mutters, drinking his wine again. He’s maybe going too fast, but he probably can’t be sober for this conversation–Eduardo’s eyes are dark and angry and kind of hot. Mark’s in his apartment and really wishing he was kissing Eduardo or something, but instead they’re getting drunk and arguing about Eduardo’s romantic life.

“So how long have you been thinking about asking to have sex with me?” Eduardo asks. “Was it during the lawsuit?”

“Jesus,” Mark says under his breath, avoiding Eduardo’s eyes. “I–No, Wardo. It was before that.”

“Before that?”

“I ignored it, okay? I didn’t think you would – “ Mark bites his lip, as Eduardo’s gaze gets progressively darker – but this time dangerous, that actually frightens Mark a bit. “I never thought that we would – that you would feel the same.”

“But you felt that way,” Eduardo says, “and you still did the dilution?”

“That wasn’t – “ Mark pinches the bridge of his nose. “Can we not have this conversation right now? I’m drunk and I keep thinking of fucking you.”

Eduardo downs the rest of his wine – Mark’s dry already – and says, “Fine.” He storms away and gets the wine bottle again, sloshing it into both their glasses, kind of violently so that a little spills out.

Eduardo takes another gulp, and then says, “I’ve wanted to kiss you since college.”

“You,” Mark says. The words echo in his brain, but they don’t feel real – or maybe that’s the alcohol really settling in. “What?”

“Why do you think I’ve been dating so much?” Eduardo says. “You hurt me, Mark. I don’t even know why – “ he shakes his head, laughs to himself “ – I don’t even know why I still want you to kiss me.”

“Maybe I should,” Mark says, heart thumping loudly in his chest.

Eduardo sips from his wine again. Mark considers, and then echoes the motion.

“Maybe you should,” Eduardo says hoarsely.

It’s hard to say which one of them moves first. Mark inclines his head by an inch, and Eduardo does too. Then their lips are pressing together, Eduardo breathing hard on him, tasting like the white wine and maybe a little bit of shrimp, because it’s evening and he’s probably just had dinner and Mark interrupted him after he was done and Mark is cupping Eduardo’s face, thumbing along his jaw as they stand in the middle of Eduardo’s apartment. They’ve been standing this whole time, still holding their wine glasses, and Eduardo knocks them backward into his dining table, places his glass behind Mark on the table, and then doing the same with Mark’s. Once both their hands are free, Mark clasps his fingers between Eduardo’s, grappling onto him, stroking his thumb against Eduardo’s knuckle and making Eduardo shudder.

“Fuck,” Mark whispers, when they break apart for air. Eduardo’s hovering over him and his cheeks are flushed red–Mark wants to fuck him so badly, wants to feel every inch of Eduardo’s body, wants to make him feel better than any other guy has done to Eduardo before.

Eduardo breathes, “Yeah,” and kisses Mark again. Mark makes his way around Eduardo’s jaw with his lips, down the column of his neck, tongue tracing at the underside of his throat. Eduardo groans as Mark sucks a hickey onto him, glad to see that Eduardo’s skin is traceless – he hasn’t been kissed recently enough, which makes Mark pleased.

Mark stops at the collar of Eduardo’s shirt, unsure if he’s allowed to keep going. His fingers stroke over the buttons of his shirt, and Eduardo noses at Mark’s ear and goes, “Come on, Mark.” He nibbles on the lobe, on the underside of Mark’s jaw. Mark’s hands go around and squeeze Eduardo’s ass, making Eduardo moan against his skin.

“Yeah,” Mark lets out. He kneads at Eduardo’s ass through his trousers, and Eduardo moans again. Mark’s hands come around to Eduardo’s front, knuckles brushing over his crotch gently.

Eduardo lets out, “Mark, fuck,” and then pressing himself tighter against Mark’s body, “come on.”

Mark thumbs at the button of Eduardo’s pants, fingering the zipper down slowly, sliding the tips of his fingers around the edge, until they’re back at Eduardo’s ass. Eduardo seems desperate to grind himself against Mark, but Mark keeps him in hold, squeezing Eduardo’s perfect cheeks over and over again, all round and soft in his palms.

Eduardo goes, “Fucking–Mark–you fucking tease.” Panting against Mark’s neck, “I fucking hate you.”

“I thought you liked bad boys,” Mark says, smirking when he slides his fingers up the crack of Eduardo’s ass, making Eduardo shove his face into Mark’s shoulder and moan.

Eduardo pulls away and says, “If you want to be the asshole, then fucking do it. Fuck me, Mark.”

His voice is so throaty and demanding that Mark jams their mouths together again, finally wrangling Eduardo’s trousers off and then his boxer briefs, getting skin on skin, his palms and Eduardo’s ass, squeezing Eduardo tighter against his body. Eduardo keeps moaning into his mouth, with Mark’s tongue practically down Eduardo’s throat, and they make out with Eduardo half-naked, pants pooled around his ankles and still in the middle of his living room floor.

Mark breathes between them, when they break apart for air again, “We should get to a bed.”

“Right,” Eduardo says. He looks around, assessing the situation; then he picks up his pants and underwear from his feet and says, “Follow me.” Mark can’t help but admire his ass on their way down the hallway.

Once they’re in Eduardo’s bedroom, Eduardo closes the door and gets something from the bedside table drawer. It’s a bottle of lube, Mark realizes, and immediately his boner goes from a semi to fully hard in his pants the moment Eduardo strips off his shirt and gets on his knees on the bed, slicking up his fingers.

“I,” Mark says, with a dry mouth. “I can do that for you.”

“I’ve–got it,” Eduardo grunts. Mark watches the first centimeter of his middle finger enter him, and imagines himself getting in there and squirms from where he’s standing. “Get on the bed,” Eduardo tells him.

Mark obeys, and Eduardo takes his fingers out, crawls over Mark, kisses him where Mark is still fully clothed and Eduardo is completely naked. Eduardo’s wet hand is hovering to the side, careful not to touch Mark – and then Eduardo is pulling away again, keeping eye contact with Mark and sliding his finger back into his hole.

“Shit,” Mark says, watching the way Eduardo rides down on his own fingers, grinding back, hips moving right over Mark’s crotch that Mark wants, needs to fuck him now. Eduardo throws his head back and gasps, fucking himself on his fingers over and over again, getting more lube over his other fingers, presumably spreading himself open for Mark, above Mark. Mark is so dizzy as he watches him and his cock is painfully hard in his jeans – Eduardo’s is dark red, leaking all over his stomach, pressed against his skin and Mark wants to touch him so badly.

He doesn’t, though, as Eduardo sighs and gets his fingers out, looking satisfied with himself. “Gonna blow you,” he murmurs to Mark, his eyes hazy, slinking down Mark’s body and peeling his jeans off.

It’s hard to be anything other than completely sober once Eduardo’s got his mouth on him – he takes Mark in in full, like he’s hungry for it, like he’s practiced. It makes Mark furious for a moment, that there are other dicks Eduardo has been blowing, other people in his mouth – but right now, Eduardo has him in his mouth, clutching at Mark’s hips, ass, deepthroating him and rubbing his nose in Mark’s pubes. Mark moans and grabs at Eduardo’s hair, hopes Eduardo doesn’t mind.

It seems to urge Eduardo on even more, by the way his sucking gets even more enthusiastic, blowing Mark and clutching Mark’s ass and nosing his way down to Mark’s balls, licking, cupping them in his mouth. Mark moans, “Wardo,” and yanks at Eduardo’s hair, because it’s so fucking good, because Eduardo is such a slut for it, especially when Eduardo pops his mouth off and looks at Mark with dark, dark eyes.

“Gonna fuck me now, Mark?” he says, and Mark’s not even sure he has a choice. He doesn’t want a choice, with the way that Eduardo is hovering above him, aligning his ass above Mark’s cock – and then Mark’s adjusting himself, nudging his cock up into Eduardo, feeling where he’s hot and tight and still wet, groaning as Eduardo relaxes and gets Mark inside.

“Fuck,” Mark says. Eduardo is so fucking hot that Mark can barely breathe, can barely see. “Fuck.” He wants to ask Eduardo how he’s so tight after all the other guys he’s fucked, except he doesn’t really want to think of Eduardo having sex with other guys right now.

“Yeah, Mark,” Eduardo says, pushing his hips up and then back down, grinding down on Mark’s cock. Mark groans and holds Eduardo by his waist, guiding him over and over again onto him, feeling the slick velvet walls of inside Eduardo, cock pressing into him. Eduardo rides him, fucks down on him, sighing with his head tilted back and moving at a rhythm. Mark kisses at a nipple, pinches at another between his forefinger and a thumb, needing, wanting to feel closer to Eduardo, all over him.

Eduardo lifts himself off of Mark before he can come, says, “Fuck me on my stomach.” He bends forward on the bed, ass raised in the air, and Mark scrambles up to join him, hands going to Eduardo’s skinny waist immediately. He clutches at the globes of Eduardo’s ass, squeezing, digging the heel of his palm into him. Eduardo moans greedily against the bed as Mark readjusts him, teasing his cockhead at Eduardo’s entrance, smearing his precome against his crack. Eduardo tries to thrust back against him, going, “Mark, come on, god.”

“Need me?” Mark asks, beginning to breach. Eduardo moans again, so fucking loud, he can’t even shut up. “Need me to fuck you?”

“Yeah,” Eduardo gets out, half muffled against the bed.

“Need me to fuck you like all your boyfriends before?” Mark can’t help himself from saying. “Better than them? Wardo?”

“Yeah,” Eduardo says without hesitation. “Yeah, yeah, Mark – better than all of them – “

“Gonna fuck you right,” Mark says, before sliding himself all the way into where Eduardo is hot hot tight, all the way up to his balls. He bottoms out and Eduardo moans against the bed again; Mark thumbs at the base of Eduardo’s spine as he grips his hips and thrusts into him, moaning as well.

Eduardo’s making all these noises, can’t fucking shut up, practically whining against the bed. “Jesus,” Mark says, because Eduardo’s noises are so hot and it’s just a stream of them and Mark hadn’t known that Eduardo was so fucking loud during sex. “Are you like this with all your boyfriends?” he says to Eduardo.

Eduardo turns to him with a glint in his eye, like he knows what the question is doing to Mark. But he answers, “No, just – ah – just you.”

“Shit,” Mark says, tightens his fingers around Eduardo’s hips that he’ll surely leave bruises, fucks Eduardo faster. Eduardo lets out a sound that’s hard to hear, that sounds kind of like he’s biting the bedsheet, the mattress, and, Jesus, Mark doesn’t know when either of them will come but it’s bound to be soon.

But he wants to see Eduardo’s face – never saw it before, wants to see what it’s like when he comes. Mark pulls completely out and Eduardo makes a desperate sound, at the loss – and he’s so loose, gaping, that Mark swipes a thumb over his hole and Eduardo bucks back helplessly. “Mark,” he gets out, and Mark says, “C’mon, turn over.”

Eduardo does, spreading his legs around Mark – Mark crouches over him, brushing his cock against Eduardo’s. Eduardo says, “In me, Mark, please,” and it’s that please that gets Mark, that gets Mark to wrap his hand around himself and push into Eduardo once again, so easy and open like he’s a space carved just for Mark. Eduardo watches him as Mark fucks into him, and Mark meets his gaze – Eduardo’s eyes are so black, in the light of the room, and he’s so beautiful that Mark has to duck down and kiss him, Eduardo’s legs wrapping around him, as Mark snaps his hips faster, trying to get Eduardo at all the right angles all over again.

Eduardo gasps around him, and Mark shoves his tongue into Eduardo’s mouth, Eduardo sucking at him without abandon as he tightens around Mark’s cock. Mark comes with a deep groan into Eduardo’s mouth, feeling himself spill inside Eduardo, filling him up with cock and come. Eduardo moans through it – his eyes are open while Mark is still kissing him, and he says, “Mark – gotta come – please – “

“Yeah,” Mark says, gets a hand around Eduardo’s cock, draws himself out of Eduardo and presses back into him with his middle finger. He digs himself back into Eduardo with his finger, moving into him with the slick of his come as he jerks Eduardo off, pressing hard against his prostate and Eduardo cries out and arcs his back, coming all over himself and spurting onto his own face. Mark watches, mesmerized, the tan lean of Eduardo’s body, the curvature of his spine as he trembles through his orgasm. Mark strokes at Eduardo’s thigh as Eduardo comes down; Eduardo sighs and opens his eyes again, watching Mark watching him.

Eduardo breaks the eye contact to laugh, burying his face into his pillow. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“What?” Mark says, collapsing onto the pillow next to him.

Eduardo just lifts his head up and grins. “I told you earlier that I wouldn’t have sex with you tonight,” he says, “and then here we are, now–”

“I am known for my seductive techniques,” Mark deadpans, and Eduardo rolls over on his back, laughing again. Mark can’t help but grin at Eduardo, watching his side profile as Eduardo smiles at the ceiling for a moment before turning to Mark.

“Are we going to talk about the dilution now?” he says. “Since we got the sex out of the way?”

“I,” Mark says, and decides to say what’s on his mind. He has no better way of phrasing this–he doesn’t know how to say it to Eduardo except for the truth. “I didn’t mean to push you away. It was a business decision – it didn’t have anything to do with us. Or,” he revises, “it shouldn’t have.”

And then after another moment, “I’m sorry.”

Eduardo heaves a breath. “I suppose I’ll have to forgive you eventually,” he says, “if we’re going to go on Oprah together.”

Mark turns his head. “What?”

Eduardo sends him a smirk. “If we’re going to be dating,” he says. “We’ll need to go on Oprah together, you’ll need to get some tattoos, maybe a piercing–”

Mark laughs and hits Eduardo with a pillow. “Stop.”

“Maybe a leather jacket,” Eduardo says, and Mark curls into him, laughing into Eduardo’s neck. He can feel the vibrations of Eduardo’s laughter too, beneath his chin.

Eduardo wraps an arm around him and says, “I promise being my boyfriend isn’t as bad as the news makes it out to be.”

Mark tucks his knuckles against Eduardo’s ribs. “I believe you,” he says, and does.