《Events after The Great Game》vernon

29、第 29 章 fic:

　　fic: the people who pressed on
　　fic: the people who pressed on
　　pairing: mark/eduardo
　　notes: okay, nevermind, there will definitely be another part of this. oh yeah it's more whitehouse!AU. title is still from the victory speech.

　　So, Eduardo is in Greece, for a week at least, and Mark hates timing and his job and the universe. He’s curled on his side on his bed, one night at three AM, when his Blackberry buzzes.

　　hey mark-

　　in town for the weekend, wanted to drop a line. we should meet up and talk about the future. spago 9pm tonight would be great for me. let me know.

　　sean

　　Mark keeps opening the email the day, reading over it. He is curious and excited and he can’t tell Chris about it because Chris hates Sean Parker, has always hated Sean Parker, ever since they all worked on the campaign together. Sean’s- Sean’s a spin doctor,yeah, but since when is that a bad thing He’s good at what he does. He runs campaigns and he doesn’t run them into the ground. He’s smart and clever and not- not tricky, exactly, but Mark appreciates how he thinks. Sean was the first person who ever sat Mark down and told him about how it worked, how it all worked. How it was a game, and you had to make sacrifices to get ahead, to get what you wanted.

　　Mark misses those days sometimes, fierce exhausting long days on the campaign trail, with Sean nudging him as they watch speeches, murmuring “you see how he changed his voice, there dumbing himself down”, or “she doesn’t mention how she voted against the bill just last year, does she”. Mark would nod, bouncing on his feet, and Sean would clap him on the shoulder and wink.

　　Mark learned from him.

　　So he opens the email for the twentieth time and types-

　　i’ll see you at nine.
　　-mz

　　Sean is the same, all wide smile and carefully kept hair and obscenely expensive suit, and he hugs Mark, slapping his back.

　　“It has been too fucking long, Zuckerberg,” he says jovially, motioning for Mark to sit, and Mark nods, stomach fluttering a little.

　　“How have you been” he asks, stiltedly, and Sean motions for a drink.

　　“Martini. Two,” he says to the waitress, and Mark swallows, sits on his hands, blinking rapidly.

　　“I have been fantastic, Mark. How about you”

　　“Good. Uh, great.”

　　“Must be tense up there right now,” Sean says, biting into a piece of dark bread.

　　“We’re - we’re going alright-”

　　“Ah, don’t bullshit me, Mark. We never bullshitted each other. Everyone else, sure.” He winks.

　　Mark shrugs warily. “I mean, we’re working with a divided government. It is what it is.”

　　“And next year”

　　“Next year”

　　Sean grins around a bite of bread, and Mark looks down.

　　“You know what I’m talking about, Mark. We all know who’s running.”

　　“Well, I’ve been acquainted with Minority Leader Hoff for several years, and I think it’s going to be interesting to watch his trajectory.”

　　Sean nods, silent, staring at him. Mark looks up and then down again.

　　
“Mark, I would absolutely love to speak to you about an exciting opportunity for next year. I’m sure you’re up on the latest about the campaign-”

　　“Well, I’ve been focusing on the current administration, Sean,” Mark says, a little testy.

　　“Of course you have. You’re quite personally attached to the team you’re working with, correct”

　　Mark narrows his eyes. “What do you mean”

　　Sean takes a sip of his martini, glancing at Mark over the glass.

　　“You’re close to your team,” he says, voice blank.

　　“I’ve been working with them for four years.”

　　“Not all of them.”

　　“What’s your point, Sean”

　　“I don’t have a point. Other than that you’re an asset to whoever you’re with. You’re smart, Mark. And I think you’d be an amazing fit for Senator Thompson’s campaign.”

　　Mark leans back.

　　“Sean-”

　　“Just a suggestion, Mark. An offer.”

　　“You know the President and the Senator don’t see eye to eye.”

　　“You’re not the President, Mark. You’re an independent person. Or so I thought.”

　　“Sean.”

　　“Just a suggestion.”

　　Mark nods slowly, taking a sip of his martini. It tastes expensive and bitter.

　　“Eduardo Saverin’s had a couple public conflicts with Senator Thompson,” Sean says casually.

　　“And”

　　
“Just an observation.”

　　“They weren’t conflicts.”

　　“Altercations outside the convention, Mark.”

　　“They don’t see eye to eye.”

　　“So, the President doesn’t, Saverin doesn’t. Which one do you work for, again”

　　“I don’t know what you’re-”

　　
“And then there’s Daddy Saverin.”

　　“Sean-”

　　“How much influence does he have in the White House I mean, really, family’s more important than work, isn’t it Such an interesting choice, the President’s made-”

　　“Don’t you fucking talk about Eduardo’s father.”

　　“Relax, Mark. Just making an observation.”

　　“Well,you’re wrong.”

　　“Okay! Okay!” He holds his hands up in a peacemaking gesture, and Mark drains his martini, a little shaken at his own vehemence.

　　“You know I like to fuck with you, Mark,” Sean says, grinning, and Mark tries to drink the martini again, but it’s gone. Sean signals for another.

　　“Yeah, I know,” Mark says. He’d forgotten the other side of Sean, who smiled like a shark and fucked a different girl in each city.

　　“I respect you. I think you’re going to be wasted on the Minority Leader’s election. You know he’ll have trouble getting Iowa, no matter who’s endorsing him. And Iowa-”

　　“-is the most important state, I know,” Mark finishes, and Sean grins approvingly. Mark flushes. Sean can always do that, make him feel young and desperate for approval.

　　“You’re wanted, Mark.”

　　Mark gulps half of his second martini, fingers itching. Eduardo seems very far away. Sean is talking quickly, too quickly, fingers dancing in the air, and Mark is nostalgic and tipsy and Eduardo is so very far away.

　　His Blackberry buzzes, and he fumbles for it as Sean orders for them. It’s just a standard update from Chris, with meeting times and strategies and reminders, but he sees Eduardo’s name on the recipients list and he’s angry and confused and pretty damn sure he shouldn’t be there. And that’s just way too many fucking feelings, so he excuses himself and leaves Sean nonplussed and pissed at the table and gets a cab back to his apartment.

　　He texts Eduardo, lying on his back on his bed.

　　im sorry

　　He waits five minutes, and sends-

　　i miss you a lot

　　--

　　He wakes up slightly hungover and pretty fucking proud of himself for leaving when he did.

　　Of course, it doesn’t matter, because the homepage of huffingtonpost.com has a picture of him and Sean. Sean’s leaning towards him across the table, gesturing wildly, and Mark is smiling slightly. The entire article is about the election next year, about what they’d been talking about, speculation and gossip and rumors and is sean parker trying to recruit mark zuckerberg to an outside campaign, making him leave the administration he’s worked with for five years

　　Mark groans and gulps half of his coffee, nearly burning the roof of his mouth off.

　　MY OFFICE 1/2 HOUR, he gets from Chris about ten minutes after the article’s published.

　　He sidles into Chris’ office guiltily, with a persistent headache.

　　“Mark, what the fuck” Chris says as greeting, and Mark sits down at the desk, sullen like a child.

　　“You had dinner with Sean Parker”

　　“Yeah, so what” Mark asks hotly, not mentioning that he left before dinner. He doesn’t want to give Chris the satisfaction.

　　Chris shoots him a look. “Mark.”

　　“He had some opportunities for me.”

　　“Oh, don’t be coy. We all know who he’s working for. Mark,you hate Senator Thompson. Think he’s an excuse for a liberal because he’s obsessed with the Second Amendment.”

　　Mark shrugs. “A job’s a job. And I haven’t heard anything from the Minority Leader about next year.”

　　Chris sighs frustratedly. “Oh God, Mark. You know he can’t start putting out feelers when you’re working in this fucking administration. He doesn’t do that. Sean, on the other hand...”

　　“Maybe it’s a good offer.”

　　Chris stares at him, hurt. “A job’s a job” he repeats. “It’s not like that, with you. Or so I thought. Come on, Mark, stop being like this. You know Hoff will recruit you. You’re the best in the business. Don’t act like a kid.”

　　“Sean actually values my input,” Mark says defensively, and Chris leans back in his chair, sighing.

　　“Sean wants to break up this administration, this team. He wants to divide and conquer. Mark, do you want Senator Thompson to be the President of the United States”

　　Mark can’t look at him.

　　“I want a Democrat to be the President of the United States,” he mutters.

　　“So,you’d be fine with it. No more gun control. Stacking the bench against Roe v. Wade to try and overturn it.”

　　“Chris, he never said he’d do that-”

　　“Oh god, Mark. Listen to yourself. This is what you believe in. I thought that meant something to you.”

　　Mark looks up, stomach churning. Chris is looking straight at him very seriously.

　　“I have to go and work,” he says quietly, flatly. Chris sighs.

　　“Just remember whyyou’re here, Mark. You’re the best, but you also care the most.”

　　He doesn’t respond to Sean’s emailed inquiry of heyyou left abruptly last night, we should meet again and talk this out.

　　He opens it thirty-some times, stares at it, biting his lip.

　　People ask Mark if he’s an idealist, or an optimist, or a fucking positive person or whatever. They usually ask sarcastically, because he seems cynical about 80% of the time. He knows he does. It’s okay.

　　When he got recruited from Harvard, the Internet whiz kid, he was so fucking excited. He had never been that excited. He wanted to use what he had, what he could do, to change the way people thought about the world. To change the world.

　　Sean had taught him, how politics really worked.

　　He had forgotten a lot about Sean, about how he operated. How Mark had caught him snorting coke off an intern in Lousiana. How he’d seen Sean laughing, watching the President go through a speech in Wisconsin, and Sean had muttered to him, “Fucking hick idiots. Look at them eat it up.” Mark had felt guiltily amused, superior in a heady way, but sick with it at the same time. Sean was intoxicating, but dangerous. And Mark had forgotten how dangerous he could be.

　　Time goes by and Eduardo doesn’t call or text and Mark doesn’t respond to Sean’s email and he feels sick, queasy, torn between two unknown poles. He sees Eduardo on the news, shaking hands with the Prime Minister or in the background of a press conference, and he chews his hoodie strings to shreds.

　　--

　　He emails Chris, three days later, sheepishly, too scared to actually talk to him.

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to:[e-mail]

　　do you think eduardo heard about it

　　---

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to: [e-mail]

　　have you not talked to him

　　---

　　Mark stares at the email, not sure whether or not to lie.

　　In the end, self-preservation helps for once.

　　---

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to:[e-mail]

　　no. we haven’t.

　　----

　　He can practically hear Chris worrying. Mark feels a little dickish for putting it on him, but simultaneously better because Chris is really good at fixing things.

　　---

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to: [e-mail]

　　call him tonight. don’t get defensive. explain what you’re feeling. and apologize!

　　---

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to:[e-mail]

　　okay. thanks.

　　---

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to: [e-mail]

　　i am such a normal and nice person and yet all i do is give relationship advice to workaholic emotionally-stunted crazy people. where is my boyfriend.

　　---

　　Mark snorts. He knows it’s Chris’ weird way of apologizing, of offering a truce.

　　---

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to:[e-mail]

　　i’m the workaholic you sleep here 70% of the time. and i still think you need to give dustin a chance.

　　---

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to: [e-mail]

　　shut up.

　　---

　　Mark grins, spinning around in his desk chair.

　　“You’d date Chris, wouldn’t you” he calls, and Dustin peeks over the cubicle.

　　“If he’d have me!” he says, clasping his hands and sighing like a damsel in distress.

　　---

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to:[e-mail]

　　just checked with him. it’s a yes. and think of the convenience!

　　---

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to: [e-mail]

　　i hate you.

　　---

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to: [e-mail]

　　call him. if i can’t manage a relationship i can at least save yours.

　　---

　　Later that night, before Mark has the chance or courage to call Eduardo, his phone buzzes.

　　i know we need to talk and i want to. i’m really busy here mark and i can’t devote the energyyou deserve right now. please don’t give up on me.

　　Mark surprises himself by drawing in a shaky breath, half a sob.

　　How can Eduardo think that he’ll ever-

　　He throws the phone on his nightstand and falls into an uneasy sleep.

　　---

　　Eduardo ends up having to stay in Greece for a week and a half. He flies straight to Miami from Greece, to see his family for a day, and Mark barely hears from him after that late-night inscrutable text, until Saturday night he gets- can you pick me up at the airport tomorrow flight in at 11pm.

　　He’s waiting at the terminal, because he searched the flight online and tracked it and Eduardo doesn’t look surprised when he comes out of the jetway and sees Mark.

　　He doesn’t look anything, except really fucking drunk.

　　He’s stumbling under the weight of his backpack and his briefcase, face flushed, and Mark has to half-catch him when he nearly falls.

　　“Hey,” Mark says cautiously, helping him stand back up, and Eduardo looks at him directly, lips wet, eyes wide.

　　“Hi, Mark,” he slurs, and Mark is confused.

　　“You drunk, Wardo”

　　
“I had a drink,” Eduardo says, swaying a little. “I had a drinks at the airport. And then in first class it’s free. It’s so free. Like they will bring you whatever you want. For freedom.”

　　“Jesus,” Mark says, and Eduardo grabs for his bag, completely misses.

　　“I got it, Wardo.”

　　“I can do it myself,” Eduardo says hotly, trying to grab it again, and Mark hooks an arm in his, walks with him.

　　“Let’s just get back to your apartment, okay”

　　“I don’t need you to help me, Mark,” Eduardo keeps saying, leaning heavily on him, and Mark is torn between thinking it’s hilarious and sad. He can assume, he thinks, from Eduardo’s level of inebriation, that Miami did not go well.

　　“How’s your family” Mark asks, and Eduardo scrunches his face up in distaste, shakes his head.

　　“I don’t- don’t wanna talk about that, right now. Or ever. Never never never.”

　　Mark helps Eduardo get his checked luggage, and helps Eduardo into the car, and Eduardo fumbles with his seatbelt until Mark reaches over and does it for him.

　　Eduardo puts his face into the hollow of Mark’s neck, and Mark shivers, pulls away. Eduardo’s got his eyes closed, mouth open.

　　“I’m still mad at you,” he says suddenly, eyes still closed. His voice is loose and sleepy.

　　“I know, and- and I’m so fucking sorry, Wardo.”

　　“It was so stupid.”

　　“I know.”

　　“I heard about your little- about Sean.”

　　Mark swallows nervously.

　　“You going to leave us, Mark” Eduardo’s head is lolling to the side and his eyes are now open and dark and Mark’s head hurts because he can never leave Eduardo. Which sucks to realize, because Mark has no choice, and he hates having no choice.

　　“No,” he says roughly, turning back to the road, and Eduardo’s hand comes out, catches his sleeve.

　　“You fucking him” he asks, low in his throat.

　　“What Jesus Christ, Eduardo, no. No!”

　　Eduardo leans back in his seat, nodding.

　　“Why would I- Wardo, I don’t want to fuck anyone except for you ever again,” Mark says, and realizes it’s true, and it’s scary, and he sort of hopes Eduardo’s too drunk to realize that Mark basically just said he wants Eduardo for the rest of his life. Eduardo is breathing slowly, evenly, and Mark just squeezes his hands on the wheel and pulls up to Eduardo’s apartment.

　　
“Do you want me to come in” Mark asks, setting Eduardo’s bags down at the corner. Eduardo is swaying slightly, scratching his ear.

　　“Wardo Wardo.”

　　Eduardo looks up, and grabs Mark by the neck and kisses him sloppily and wet. He tastes like vodka and cranberry, bitter and fruity, and Mark is about to curl a hand around the back of his neck when Eduardo pulls away, breathing hard.

　　“Not- not right now,” he says, over-enunciating. “I- fuck, Mark, I’m so drunk.”

　　“Okay,” Mark says, running his hand over Eduardo’s cheek, his neck, his collarbone.

　　“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eduardo says with drunken finality, squeezing Mark’s shoulders, and goes inside. Mark drives home, to his empty one-room bare apartment, and lets himself be quietly happy. He needs this to work.

　　---

　　The first thing he does the next morning is email Sean.

　　Hi Sean-

　　I’m going to have to decline your offer of employment for the next year. While I appreciate the sentiment, I am attached to this administration and its wishes for the next election, and I respect my colleagues too much to leave them in that manner. Thank you, and of course, good luck.

　　Mark Zuckerberg

　　He hits Send and grins cautiously. This is going to work.

　　Except when Eduardo comes into work, an hour late, he shuts himself in his office and doesn’t emerge until 10pm. Mark bites the eraser off three separate pencils, gnawing until Dustin pops his head over the top of his cubicle and tells him to shut the hell up.

　　He finally works up the courage to go in at 10, knocks gently on the door and Eduardo sighs before he answers like he knows it’s Mark.

　　“Hi,” he says, and Eduardo looks up wearily at him. His eyes are practically half-closed.

　　“Hey, Mark,” he says, voice blurred with exhaustion.

　　“You-you should sleep. You look exhausted.”

　　“I’m fine,” Eduardo says, movements sluggish as he reaches for his laptop. “I took pills, so I wouldn’t get jetlag. They’re supposed to work.”

　　“That shit never works,” Mark says, and Eduardo looks at him angrily, eyes sharp. Mark didn’t mean to make him angry. They always talk shit to each other. That’s just them.

　　Except is there a them

　　Mark needs there to be a them.

　　Eduardo looks so tired.

　　“Can I take you home” Mark asks, and Eduardo looks mad at himself as he nods.

　　Except of course Mark didn’t drive that day, his car is getting the oil changed, or something like that. He calls them a cab.

　　Eduardo sleeps in the cab, mouth slack, premature lines around his eyes. Mark leans his head back against the seat and watches him.

　　“A left here, right” the cabbie asks, and Eduardo jerks awake.

　　
“Yeah,” Mark says, unreasonably angry with the guy for waking Eduardo up. Eduardo looks at him, eyes soft, and licks at his own lips. Mark exhales hard and leans back against the seat again.

　　“Come up with me,” Eduardo says, and Mark nods, stomach twisting in vague anticipation.

　　“I want to talk about it,” Eduardo explains, throwing his briefcase onto the table. “We need to talk about it. About what this is.”

　　Mark nods again, helping Eduardo take off his suit jacket.

　　“I really want to. But right now I just want you to get into bed with me,” Eduardo says, and Mark’s hands pause on his shoulders.

　　“Can you-”

　　“Yeah.”

　　Eduardo lies down and beckons to Mark and Mark crawls onto the bed on his knees. Eduardo grabs at him, pulling him down by the edges of his hoodie, and Mark curls a leg around Eduardo’s hip, nuzzles his face into Eduardo’s warm cologne-scented chest. Eduardo clings to him, a hand up the back of his shirt, the other laced with Mark’s in the hollow between their bodies. Eduardo nudges a thigh between Mark's legs, toes rubbing his shin.

　　“Just needed this,” he murmurs, near-incoherently, and Mark closes his eyes, burrows further into him.

　　Eduardo’s asleep within minutes, and Mark pulls back a little, watches him. Eduardo is clutching at him, eyes delicately closed. Mark watches him without blinking for a good half minute, and kisses the edge of his mouth carefully before pressing his face to Eduardo’s neck again and falling into a content sleep.

　　----

　　He wakes up alone in Eduardo's bed, and when he walks out into Eduardo's kitchen, scratching idly at his scalp, hoodie riding up, Eduardo is sitting at the table with a mug of coffee, looking nervous and sharp-edged and tense.

　　"Morning," Mark says cautiously, and he sits down at the table. Eduardo pushes a mug towards him, and Mark takes it.

　　"We need to talk," Eduardo announces, in a tight voice.

　　"Can I start" Mark says abruptly, nearly surprising himself. Eduardo looks taken aback, but he nods.

　　"Eduardo." He hesitates, starts to talk, then stops again. Sticks a hoodie string in his mouth, and looks down at the table and says, "Wardo, I'm really sorry about what I did. I didn't think about it. I was just- I was so angry. And he- Wardo, I hate him so much-"

　　Eduardo makes a little pained sound in his throat, and takes a sip of coffee to cover it up.

　　"I mean, I just- it was stupid of me to meddle."

　　Eduardo nods, and Mark adds- "Because, Wardo, I'm pretty much really in love with you. And I acted like an asshole. So I'm sorry."

　　He swallows nervously, picks up the coffee mug and puts it down again, then just clasps his hands in his lap.

　　Eduardo is staring at him.

　　"Mark," he says, voice rough, and coughs to clear his throat. "I- I shouldn't have gotten so angry, I -"

　　"No, Wardo,you had every right-"

　　"You don't deserve that. You-you're a good person and I don't want to heap my family shit or my issues on you, because-"

　　"Wardo! Listen!"

　　Eduardo stops, shaken.

　　"I want- that. I want your issues. Or whatever. I just- Wardo, I just want you. All the time."

　　Eduardo is going pink, high on his cheekbones, his eyes wide. Mark shifts uncomfortably in the chair.

　　"I am so bad at this," he says softly, laughing at himself, and Mark doesn't realize why Eduardo can't see that he is the normal one and Mark is the one who is pathetic and who has never been able to have a normal relationship.

　　"I'm not really a great example either," Mark says, but Eduardo is standing up and he's standing up and they meet in the middle, and Eduardo puts a hand on the kitchen table to brace himself and wraps the other around Mark's head and brings his face up to his.

　　Mark kisses him until he can't breathe and then inhales, wraps both arms around Eduardo's neck and it feels so good to fall into him again. It was two weeks without this, without Eduardo's tongue, in his mouth and hand on his back and his scent, everywhere, coffee and familiar cologne, overwhelming. He lowers one hand to Eduardo's lower back, then his ass, squeezes hard. They're both panting, making wet deep little sounds and Mark can't go one more fucking second without blowing him so he pushes him against the kitchen counter, and Eduardo hops up on his own and draws Mark's head up again, into another kiss.

　　"Work in ten minutes," he murmurs, and Mark kisses his chest through the shirt, hands working at Eduardo's pants. Eduardo sucks in a breath when Mark goes at him hungrily, licking the head, rubbing his nose against it, breathing deep.

　　"Missed this," he says low and rumbly against the side of Eduardo's cock, and Eduardo makes a sound like a sob when Mark takes him in.

　　"God, Mark," he says loudly, wildly, fingers clenching at the countertop, legs spread carelessly. "Fucking -yes,yes-"

　　Mark laughs a little, mouth vibrating around Eduardo's cock, because it seems like Eduardo missed it too.

　　---

　　They come in late, together, and Dustin points at the bruise Eduardo had sucked onto Mark's neck not half an hour before and laughs.

　　Mark just flicks him off, grinning satisfied and warm and content in a way he hasn't felt in two weeks, and sits down.

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to: [e-mail]

　　well

　　----

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to: [e-mail]

　　i can feel your smugness through the wall.yes. it's all fixed,you helped, thank you, etc etc.

　　---

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to: [e-mail]

　　oh what's that thank you couldn't hear you as i am too busy starting my own dating service. i am a genius.

　　---

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to: [e-mail]

　　MARK WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR NECK RU OKAY WANT ME TO CALL THE DOCTR RU A VAMPIRE NOW

　　---

　　fr: [e-mail]
　　to: [e-mail]

　　shut the fuck up, dustin.

　　fic: with that american creed
　　fic: with that american creed
　　fandom: the social network
　　pairing: mark/eduardo

　　notes/general thank you/oscar emotions:
　　OKAY, so, this was supposed to be the last part but it was actually too long for LJ. LOL, I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THEY HAD LIMITS, OOPS.
　　so click through at the end for the sixth and final part!(but,you know, feel free to comment on both ;) i'll love you forever!)
　　also hey guys- this fandom is amazing. i've had so much fun livechatting the globes and the oscars and kinkmeme-ing and just generally squeeing over boys and this movie and everything. <333

　　it's pretty much fluff from here on out, guys. i can't even help it. these boys.

　　November feels cut short, odd, without an election. They all keep hearing the date on television or the radio and looking up, pulse stuttering, and then remembering. Mark spends the month in a weird contradictory cloud of boredom and routine and work and fierce, delirious, terrifying happiness. He sleeps pretty much exclusively at Eduardo’s place, now. It’s nice, homey in a way, and he finds out more stuff about Eduardo, like he knows how to cook even though they had a chef when he was growing up. He’d learned from the chef, actually, because he is Eduardo and that is the kind of thing he does.

　　He was a lifeguard for four years during the summers, which Dustin teases him mercilessly about when Mark tells him. He studied abroad in Portugal at Brown, and fucked this huge Italian guy named Lorenzo and he only tells this to Mark when he’s riding him, gasps it out to make Mark jealous and Mark grabs him by the hips and fucks him so hard he forgets the stupid fucker’s name.

　　He got his first kiss when he was thirteen, gave his first blowjob when he was sixteen. He never had a boyfriend until Brown. His family has a house in Brazil, and Eduardo used to spend his winter breaks there, getting tan and swimming with his cousins and drinking way too much Brazilian liquor.

　　He has a younger sister and they don't talk very much. His mother takes too much Valium and hasn't called Eduardo since the scandal.(Mark flushes hot when he hears that, guilt churning in the pit of his stomach. Eduardo just exhales and changes the subject.)

　　Mark keeps asking questions and gathering the answers up like a trail of breadcrumbs, letting Eduardo talk himself out about his family and college and his jobs before the White House. Mark wants to know every single thing there is to know about Eduardo.

　　He realizes intermittently, when he surfaces from the haze that is being extremely fucking happy, that he is so fucked.

　　Because it’s terrifying to realize that there’s no one else, there’s no other chance, there’s no oh if this doesn’t work out I’ll just-

　　He can’t see past Eduardo. Eduardo’s some huge blinding thing in his life and there’s no getting past him and it’d be fine if things could just stay like this all the time, but Mark knows, he knows from experience that things don’t stay perfect, that they break or go off track or fuck up even when no one means to.

　　He knows this, and he clutches at Eduardo a little too tightly when they sleep nudged together, until Eduardo detaches Mark’s arm from his with a sleepy mumble, wriggles out of Mark’s grasp and kisses him automatically, reassuringly, on the neck.

　　---

　　He calls his mom because it’s been a few weeks and she worries about him.

　　“Hi, sweetie,” she croons into the phone, and he takes a bite of a HotPocket he just took out of the microwave at his apartment.

　　“Hey,” he says, mouth full, trying to keep the molten cheese from burning the roof of his mouth.

　　
“Are you alright, hon You sound stuffed up. Do you have the NyQuil I sent you I keep telling you to drink more water. I’m sure you get dehydrated down there-”

　　“No, Mom, I was just eating. I’m fine.”

　　“What are you eating”

　　Mark looks down at the HotPocket, now dripping cheese and sauce all over the counter.

　　“Fruit,” he says into the phone.

　　“Oh, that’s great. I just had a big bowl of blueberries. Blueberries have the most antioxidants, I read an article in Good Housekeeping.”

　　
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind,” Mark says, rolling his eyes.

　　“So, Thanksgiving’s in a week. Are you bringing home Ed-ua-rdo” She enunciates each syllable of his name over-exaggeratedly, and Mark grins.

　　“I don’t know, Mom. He has a family too.”

　　“Not much of one,” his mom sniffs.

　　“Well, I don’t know-”

　　“Just ask him, sweetie. We’d all love to meet him. And it’s been, what, almost a year since you two started dating”

　　“A year and two weeks,” Mark says automatically, and his mom laughs knowingly.

　　“I can’t believe I haven’t met him, Mark. You’re holding out on us! Everyone’s coming home this year, Deb and Annie, and Annie’s bringing the new baby, and Mark,you just have to come.”

　　“I- I guess I could ask him.”

　　“You better. Tell him I’m making brownies. How did he like the last batch, by the way I tried mixing some pecans in with the walnuts, I thought he’d like that.”

　　“I don’t think he noticed.”

　　She huffs out an impatient breath.

　　“Oh, I’m sure he did.”

　　“Cause we have nothing more important to worry about than the nut content of our baked goods-”

　　“Mark, that’s not what I-”

　　“Wardo told the President, actually. Just alerted him of the news, to keep him informed. We had a code name for it and everything. The Great Pecan Situation.”

　　“Mark.”

　　He’s grinning, and he sneaks another bite of the now-cooled HotPocket like she can see him through the phone.

　　“Oh,you wound me, son of mine,” she says, sighing. “Bring him home. I need to meet this boy who can somehow put up with-”

　　“Hey!”

　　“With your endless wit and charm, of course. What else would I have said”

　　“Ha. Ha. You should take that on the road. Hilarious.”

　　“Bring him, Mark.”

　　Mark sighs, trying to chew away from the speaker so she won’t hear it.

　　“I’ll ask. I can’t promise anything.”

　　“Of course not, sweetheart. Just ask.”

　　Except because it’s Eduardo, he goes all misty-eyed and grins hugely and nods, like Mark’s just offered him a million dollars and a lifetime supply of blow jobs.

　　Which he sort of half did, because Mark wants to - to do that. The lifetime supply thing. The lifetime part, anyway.

　　But Eduardo does not need to know that.

　　---

　　Eduardo’s nervous, on the train. Which is just ridiculous. Mark’s the one who should be nervous, that Eduardo will meet his family, think they’re crazy, and run extremely far away and never come back.

　　“Okay, so, Deb is nineteen and Annie is thirty-three, and her husband is... Allen. Allen and Annie. And there’s a baby. Baby’s name is- oh fuck, I forgot. What’s the baby’s name, Mark”

　　“Uh, Ellie Emma Something with an E.”


　　“Emily! Oh my God, Mark,you can’t remember your own niece’s name. New low.”

　　Mark shrugs, flipping through the Times. “Whatever. I’m really busy. It’s just a baby, it’s not even really a person yet.”

　　Eduardo laughs. “Please never say that out loud ever again.”

　　Mark shoves him idly with his shoulder, and Eduardo laughs, leaning back in the seat, leg pressed against Mark’s, thigh to ankle.

　　“Do you think they’ll like me” he asks quietly, and Mark exhales in annoyance.

　　“Wardo! Don’t be stupid.”

　　“How is that stupid”

　　“They’re going to like you.”

　　Eduardo chews his lip, saying nothing, and Mark looks up from the magazine and puts a hand on Eduardo’s thigh.

　　“Wardo. They’re going to like you.” He squeezes and lets go, and adds, “They’re going to love you. Like me.”

　　He looks back down quickly, going red, and Eduardo still doesn’t say anything, but when Mark sneaks a glance at him, he’s pink and smiling helplessly out the window and Mark’s stomach goes funny, hot on the inside.

　　Oh God they’re like a Disney movie.

　　His sisters are about to give him so much shit.

　　---

　　As soon as they get there it's time for Thanksgiving dinner, and they barely have time to really introduce each other, but Deb, who's his favorite sister, always has been, pulls him aside and says, "OhmyGod, Mark, he is fine."

　　Mark just goes hot, and his mom pushes him into a chair, and says, "Well, hi, Eduardo!" Deb waves.

　　"Hello," Eduardo says gamely, smiling open and wide, and Mark puts a hand on his knee under the table.

　　"We're so excited that Mark's finally brought you home! I keep pestering him, but he keeps talking about how busyyou all are. I can't tell if he's lying or not. He used to say the same thing about calling home when he was at Harvard, but I didn't believe it then either."

　　"Mom-"

　　"We really are that busy, Mrs. Zuckerberg," Eduardo explains, laughing.

　　"Oh God, call me Linda, please."

　　"So, Eduardo,you went to Brown Deb's a sophomore there."

　　"You are That's amazing. What are you concentrating in"

　　"Uh, engineering, I'm pretty sure."

　　"Whoa," Eduardo says, laughing. "Good luck, that's a difficult department. But fun. I've had a couple engineer friends and the few minutes a week I could see them they seemed happy..."

　　Deb rolls her eyes and laughs and explains about her advisor and her friends and Mark tunes them out for a few minutes and shoves food into his mouth.

　　"Mark"

　　"Wha-" he says, mouth full of mashed potatoes. Eduardo's smiling, eyes laughing, at him, and Deb repeats exasperatedly, "You never told us how you met Eduardo!"

　　"Oh. Yeah," he says, swallowing. "Um, Eduardo got hired like, uh, what was it A year and a half ago And he came in, out of his fancy office, because of course he gets an office and I still have a cubicle-"

　　"-Oh, God, not this again."

　　"- and asked me to get lunch."

　　"And the rest, as they say, was history," Annie says, laughing. Eduardo swallows a bite of sweet potato casserole, gesturing with his fork.

　　"Mark,you neglect to mention how you completely insulted Brown and told me I majored in socialism," Eduardo says, and Deb cracks up. His mom shakes her head, tutting.

　　"Don't feel so bad for him! You then proceeded to say that you had heard I was kind of a dick!"

　　Everyone's laughing, and Eduardo grins right at him, and Mark can't help but smile back.

　　"I didn't know what to believe, okay I think you had just reamed out Dustin, or something, because he was very sulky."

　　Mark shrugs grudgingly and forks more turkey into his mouth.

　　---

　　After dinner, Eduardo helps Ms. Zuckerberg wash up, until she grabs a plate from his hands and says, “You don’t have to help me out, sweetheart.”

　　“Why don’t you go upstairs with Mark” Deb suggests innocently, smiling around a forkful of pecan pie, and Eduardo grins, narrows his eyes at her.

　　“If you’re sure,” he says, and Mark’s mom waves him out of the kitchen.

　　“Yeah, he’s in his room,” Deb says when they're in the living room, and Eduardo laughs.

　　“You’re a shameless enabler, aren’t you.”

　　“I do it for Mark’s own good,” she says, sighing, and pats him on the back.

　　Eduardo clambers heavily up the stairs, comfortably full of turkey and way too much sweet potato casserole, and looks in Mark’s room. It’s empty.

　　He’s about to go back downstairs, when he sees the door of the guest room ajar, the room he'd dropped his suitcase off in just a couple hours before.

　　Mark’s collapsed on Eduardo’s bed, on his back, t-shirt riding up, belly moving up and down with each breath. He’s sleeping, face soft like a kid’s, and Eduardo climbs onto the bed next to him, rubs a hand over his thigh, then his stomach, and Mark makes a sucking sound with his lips and turns his face away, arm flung off to the side. Eduardo puts his face into the hollow of Mark’s neck, throws a hand over his chest.

　　Deb comes upstairs to ask them if they want to play Password an hour later and finds them like that, except Mark’s breathing into Eduardo’s hair and clutching at his arm like it’s a teddy bear.

　　Deb has to resist the urge to aww. She does, however, run downstairs and pull her mom upstairs.

　　“Look,” she hisses, and her mom watches them silently, until Deb looks at her and realizes she’s sniffling, eyes wet.

　　“Oh God, stop,” she says, hitting her, and her mom hits her back.

　　“He’s just- oh, it’s just-” she whispers mistily. Deb holds her hand.

　　“I know.”

　　Her mom nods, and then pulls them away. “We have to give them their privacy,” she says with finality, and Deb snorts.

　　“Privacy in this house” she whispers, but turns away.

　　---

　　They wake up a couple hours later, mole-eyed and confused and Mark nuzzles his nose into Eduardo's neck, and Eduardo rubs Mark's stomach in slow circles, and says, "I'm kind of hungry."

　　Mark snorts into Eduardo's shoulder. "How is that even possible"

　　"I'm a miracle of human nature, Mark."

　　"That's one way to describe it."

　　"Ha," Eduardo mumbles, and pulls Mark's face up for a slow sweet kiss.

　　"Let's go downstairs," Eduardo says, nosing Mark's jaw.

　　"Wanna stay here," Mark murmurs, kissing him again, but Eduardo sits up. Mark bumps his head against Eduardo's lower back, futilely.

　　"C'mon, babe, we should go talk to your family," Eduardo says, and Mark reluctantly follows.

　　---

　　He regrets it just half an hour later.

　　“Oh my God,” Eduardo says slowly, voice choky with laughter. “That is adorable.”

　　Mark rolls his eyes. His mom immediately whipped out the family photo albums, but suspiciously only the ones where Mark was in the age range of zero to twelve years old. Eduardo is having a field day on the couch, surrounded by his sisters. Mark's on the floor in front of him, back pressed up against the sofa.

　　“Isn’t it” his mom says delightedly. “Mark used to do that all the time in second grade. His dad made him a little pin that said Mark Zuckerberg for President, and he wore it around all the time.”

　　“Except it kept going through the wash ‘cause he’d leave it pinned on everything, so it was all faded,” Annie chimes in, and Eduardo laughs. Mark squeezes his ankle lightly.

　　“And look at this one,” Deb says, flipping the page of the photo album. “He was FDR for Halloween and no one got it. Probably because he was nine and no one else knew who he was.”

　　
“Oh, I see it,” Eduardo says, studying the picture. “Got another little pin, there.”

　　“He was really into the pins.”

　　“The New Deal,” Eduardo reads. “That is ridiculously cute. God, Dustin would kill for these.”

　　“Don’t you dare,” Mark says, and Eduardo laughs, rubs Mark’s neck with one hand. Mark goes hot, and he looks up and Deb is grinning evilly at him.

　　“After Mark and I first-” he pauses, and Mark thinks of him, legs spread on the fucking White House floor, and Mark’s face goes bright red.

　　“- first, uh, started dating, Dustin would send me pictures of Mark from the campaign trail. Usually of him sleeping, which was weird, but-”

　　“Dustin was obsessed with me, what can I say”

　　“Sleeping I got the impression you never slept, Mark,” his mom says.

　　“He was usually upright,” Eduardo says. “In a chair. So, it’s still up for debate whether he ever slept like a normal person.”

　　“Whatever,” Mark says, shoving Eduardo’s leg, mouth curling up at the edges.

　　His mom turns the page and shows him a picture of Mark in the school play when he was twelve, and Eduardo puts his hand on Mark’s neck again, leaves it there.

　　Mark is embarrassed, a little bit, of all of this- of the neck-touching and the way they’re all curled up on the couch like the Brady Bunch, of the pictures, the stories, everything.

　　He’s embarrassed because Eduardo knows everything about him now, has all of Mark in his hands, and Mark’s never let anyone know that much except for his family.

　　Because they’re obligated to love him, it’s like the law.

　　Except- Eduardo’s family doesn’t. Eduardo doesn’t have this, the pictures and the warm comfortable teasing and the way he can say a whole sentence to Deb with one eye roll.

　　Mark snaps out of his thoughts when he realizes his mom and sisters are getting up from the couch. Eduardo's still flipping through the photo album, a small private smile on his face, and when his family leaves the room, Mark pushes himself up from the floor and sits next to him.

　　"Hey," Eduardo says, and Mark kisses his jaw. Eduardo turns his head and catches Mark's lips in a kiss, just one, dry and brief, and Mark puts a hand around Eduardo's thigh.

　　"I can't believe you were FDR for Halloween. You weren't even accurate,you didn't have a wheelchair."

　　"I don't think FDR would have wanted me to highlight that. I was respecting his wishes. Trust me, I internalized it."

　　Eduardo laughs. "How you ended up in the White House and not in Hollywood is a mystery to me."

　　"It was one or the other, I just picked White House randomly." He pauses, closes the photo album, says anxiously, "Are you having a good time"

　　Eduardo chews his lip in worry.

　　"Does it seem like I'm not Do I seem rude Oh God. Am I being weird and emotionally closed-off"

　　"Jesus, no! I'm just asking."

　　"Yes, Mark, of course. Do they- do they like me"

　　Mark pretends to consider for a second, just to make him sweat. Except Eduardo really does sweat, he stares at Mark with big scared eyes, and Mark forgets sometimes that Eduardo isn't used to this.

　　"Yeah, they do. They really do," he says seriously, because he needs to make Eduardo understand.

　　Eduardo's smiling cautiously, and Mark loves him so much in that moment he has to shut his mouth or he'll say something weird. His chest hurts again, like it's swelling.

　　"We should-" Eduardo says, motioning at the kitchen, and Mark nods into his shoulder, breathing him in.

　　---

　　“Okay, so let’s work this out,” his sister says the next morning, grabbing a Red Vine from the pack in his lap and flopping down on the chair. Eduardo and Mark’s mom and older sister and husband are out for brunch, but Deb and Mark both hate breakfast, and food at normal hours, and group outings.

　　Mark takes a sip of coffee, legs curled under him on the couch.

　　“What do we need to work out”

　　His sister sighs. “Eduardo, duh. He’s perfect, like literally perfect, and you’re insanely in love with him.”

　　“What!” Mark splutters.

　　“Ugh, keep up. Eduardo is perfect. You love him. The question is, how do we keep him”

　　“We”

　　“This is a team effort. A team effort to make Eduardo Saverin a Zuckerberg.”

　　“You’re insane.”

　　“Well, obviously it’s not all a team effort, I mean,you’re going to be the only one having sex with him. So just stay strong on that front.”

　　“Oh my God, Deb-”

　　“Are you telling me you’re not having sex with him”

　　“That is none of your business-”

　　“Okay, good. You scared me for a minute. Jesus.”

　　Mark is pretty sure his face could double as a tomato right now. His sister just clucks at him.

　　“God, Mark, it’s not a big deal, don’t be such a prude. I’m nineteen. And if you didn’t know, I go to your boyfriend’s alma mater. Gay sex is practically a course there.”

　　“No no no no no,” Mark chants, putting his hands over his ears. His sister just kicks him.

　　“Oh, relax. It’s not like I’m asking you who tops and who bottoms-”

　　“Oh God make it stop,” he says miserably, and his sister laughs for a good minute.

　　“So, anyway, keeping him. His family sucks. We have an advantage there.”

　　“This feels extremely diabolical.”

　　“So you should feel right at home. Back to the plan. He’s twenty seven,you’re twenty six. Good start! He went to an Ivy, so did you.”

　　“Rival Ivies, though,” Mark points out, grabbing another Red Vine. “And how do you know all this anyway”

　　“You think I haven’t googled the shit out of this guy God, Mark, it’s like you think I don’t even care.”

　　“Of course, I should have known,” he says dryly.

　　“You guys conveniently work in the same building. That’s great.”

　　“Deb, this is stupid.”

　　“Are you in love with him”

　　He chews on a Red Vine, makes a face at her. She just sighs and stares straight at him.

　　“Mark. Seriously. Are you in love with Eduardo”

　　Mark looks up and then down again, and then shrugs, face hot.

　　She nods. “Okay, that’s a yes. Have you told him”

　　“Yeah,” Mark admits, sort of only because he wants to show his sister he’s not as emotionally constipated as everyone seems to think.

　　“That’s great.”

　　“Why, thank you!” Mark says sarcastically.

　　“And he loves you,” she presses, and he throws up his hands in annoyance.


　　“Fuck, Deb, I don’t know. I mean, he’s said it. God, why do we have to talk about this again”

　　“Said it,” she murmurs to herself, typing something on her phone.

　　“Are you- taking notes”

　　“Nothing for you to worry about,” she says brightly, clicking the phone shut. He stares at her suspiciously, and she smiles, but the door opens before he can say anything.

　　“Hey!” his mom says, “I brought you guys some cinnamon rolls!”

　　“Awesome!” his sister says enthusiastically, and winks at Mark before standing up and going to the kitchen. Eduardo comes in the door after Annie and stands there for a second, and Mark holds up a hand for Eduardo to help him up.

　　Everyone’s in the kitchen, and Eduardo pulls Mark up and Mark falls against him deliberately and kisses him.

　　“Mark,” he hisses, grinning, pushing him away, and Mark squeezes his ass. Eduardo chokes, looking over Mark’s shoulder, and Mark turns around to see Deb giving him a thumbs-up.

　　Eduardo goes red, and Mark just gives her the finger and walks into the kitchen.

　　---

　　That night, they’re curled in Mark’s bed, on his fucking Star Wars sheets he never bothered to change.

　　“How was brunch” Mark asks quietly, Eduardo’s head on his chest.

　　“Really fun,” Eduardo says. “Annie is awesome.”

　　“They weren’t annoying She can get annoying. And sometimes my mom asks way too many questions.”

　　“Mark,” Eduardo says, rubbing a hand over his hip. “I- I really, really like them.”

　　Mark nods, staring up at the ceiling.

　　“Deb was being ridiculous today,” he says, cautiously, and Eduardo turns to look up at him.

　　
“How”

　　“I- “ he hesitates, coughs, thinks he’s perfect and you’re in love with him, and says, “Nothing, really. Just, she likes you.”

　　“Hmm,” Eduardo murmurs sleepily, and Mark curls a hand around the curve of his ass. Eduardo sighs and moves closer and Mark reaches for his phone, texts his sister one-handed. okay i’m in. help me keep him.

　　It’s 1:30 AM, but his sister still texts him back within a minute.

　　oh god you did not just text me post-coital did u

　　--

　　NO JESUS DEB

　　--

　　i saw your grabby hands earlier. i don’t believe you.

　　--

　　you are unhinged

　　--

　　planning session tomorrow 11am, ill make mom distract eduardo

　　--

　　i will buyyou waffles

　　--

　　awwww this is a serious one!you never buy me waffles!

　　---

　　shut up and go to sleep

　　--

　　don’t wake mom up with your coupling!

　　--

　　He snorts out loud at that, and Eduardo murmurs something, rolling over, away from Mark. Mark keeps a hand on his thigh, warm and solid, and throws the phone onto his nightstand.

　　---

　　The next morning, Deb pulls Mark out of the breakfast place with one hand, and next door into a jewelry shop.

　　“I said waffles, Deb, not a necklace,” Mark says, and she manhandles him to the counter, says, “We’re looking for an engagement ring” to the elegantly-dressed woman behind the desk.

　　“What No, we’re not.”

　　“Oh, I’ve heard that before,” the woman jokes, awkwardly, and Deb rolls her eyes.

　　“Yes we are. Mark, we just talked about this at breakfast.”

　　The woman is staring off into the distance, uncomfortably, and Mark feels her pain.

　　“Deb, I didn’t say-”

　　“Come on. Diamond, no diamond, other stone, or just like, a gold band”

　　“Deb-”

　　“Mark.” She puts her hands on his shoulders. “Eduardo’s a good Jewish Brazilian boy. He’s going to need a ring on his finger. It’s been a year. You love him, he loves you.”

　　The woman is looking at them with considerably more interest.

　　“Deb...”

　　“It doesn’t have to be now. It’s an investment. Who knows what prices will be like in a year”

　　“Won’t be any higher, the way our economy’s going.”

　　“Says the White House Internet publicist.”

　　“Oh my God,you!” the woman exclaims suddenly, and they both look up at her.

　　“Sorry,” she says, going red. “You were the one who bitched out that lady on national television.”

　　Deb laughs hysterically. “Yeah,yeah, that’s him!”

　　“Sorry,” she says again, laughing, and Mark rolls his eyes.

　　“Deb,” he starts, and she holds a finger up to shush him.

　　“Do you want to marry Eduardo”

　　The woman’s watching them avidly.

　　“Fucking Christ,” Mark says weakly. “Yes. I do.”

　　Deb and the woman clap, and Deb gives her a high-five, saying, “Okay then, Mary, let’s do this.”

　　Mary(as her nametag does say) starts showing them ring after ring and Mark is nodding absently but all he can think of is actually doing it, asking Eduardo to be with him like that.

　　What if Eduardo doesn’t sayyes

　　He can think of, off the top of his head, twenty reasons why Eduardo might not sayyes.

　　“Mark. Mark!”

　　He snaps out of it, looks dazedly at the ring Deb’s got on her palm.

　　It’s thick and gold and plain, and he thinks inanely of the Lord of the Rings, has to bite his lip to keep himself from snorting.

　　“Well” she says, hesitant, grinning tentatively, and Mary chimes in.

　　“It’s really elegant, and super classy,” she says. Deb nods authoritatively. Mark keeps staring.

　　“I- sure. Yes.”

　　His sister squeals and hugs him and takes his wallet out of his back pocket at the same time.

　　“Wait, how much is it”

　　“Affordable, but nice.”

　　“That’s not a number, Deb.”

　　“Mark, I know what you can afford. You work at the White House. You can afford this.”

　　Mark leans against the counter, watching Mary wrap it up. She hands it to him, smiling, eyes soft, and says, “Good luck!”


　　“Oh, he won’t need it,” Deb says, hooking her arm through his and practically skipping him out the door.

　　“You are such an enabler,” Mark says, and Deb laughs.

　　“What”

　　“Nothing. Just- Eduardo said the same thing.”

　　Mark doesn’t say anything, and when Deb looks over at him he’s grinning.

　　“I’m really really happy for you, Mark,” she says seriously, squeezing his hand, and Mark stops walking and wraps her in a silent hug. She inhales in shock and hugs him hard, and he pulls away, blinking, avoiding her eyes.

　　She resists the urge to make a joke about how love’s made him all touchy feely and blah blah, and just smiles to herself.

　　---

　　On their last night in Dobbs Ferry, Mark takes Eduardo out to dinner, plays footsie with him under the table, drinks expensive wine.

　　How they end up in a seedy gay club then, dancing sweaty and sticky and close, is anyone’s guess.

　　Mark hates dancing, but when Eduardo sees the dimly-lit, sketchy-looking club he grins wickedly and pulls Mark inside, and the next thing Mark knows Eduardo’s pulling Mark flush against him, biting his jaw, and Mark puts his hands on Eduardo’s back. They’re in the corner of the crowded dance floor. Mark has never even been in a place like this. He didn't even know places like this existed in Long Island. He's not sure he likes it, but Eduardo is touching him so he doesn't mind too much.

　　“You’ve been really obsessed with my ass lately,” Eduardo says hotly, into Mark’s ear.


　　Mark shudders helplessly, and Eduardo keeps sucking kisses into his collarbone, licking at the bone, breathing air over his wet skin, and Mark forgot, in the midst of his family and fucking cuddling and Eduardo grinning at him over an album full of baby pictures, that Eduardo could be like this.

　　Could be all slutty and teasing and fucking horny as hell.

　　Mark is not sure how he could have forgotten.

　　“We could do it right here with everyone watching,” Eduardo whispers, and the bass throbs and Mark is licking into Eduardo’s mouth because he can’t go one more damn second without tasting him. He's not even drunk but he feels like it, the music thumping under his feet, head pounding in a dizzyingly good way.

　　“It’s not like I don’t know you want it, can’t keep your fucking hands off me,” Eduardo says into Mark’s mouth, hot breath stirring the hairs on Mark’s neck, and Mark digs his fingers into Eduardo’s hips, lifts his shirt halfway up just to feel his skin. Eduardo moans and clutches him harder.

　　“Be careful or I might actually do it,” Mark gets out, and Eduardo presses the entire length of his body up against him, and they’re moving to some beat, vaguely, but it’s more disjointed, frantic, Mark’s hands shamelessly on Eduardo’s ass now, bringing him closer, and Eduardo is panting, groaning, into his ear. They’re practically fucking, in the middle of the goddamn club, and Mark could really not care less.

　　
“Want you to fuck me,” Eduardo gasps brokenly, like they’re literally in a porno, and Mark keeps grinding his dick urgently up against Eduardo’s, breath coming faster, and it’s been so long since they had, like, full-on sex, two weeks at least, they just haven’t had time.

　　Mark is pretty sure they’re not going to have time now, either, because he’s going to fucking come in his pants.

　　“Oh- oh fuck Eduardo,” he says incoherently and Eduardo is sucking in sharp breaths and biting, licking, snorting at his neck, and Mark thrusts his hips particularly hard, seeking, with intent, and Eduardo groans and comes.

　　He reaches a hand between them and touches himself, grabs himself roughly through his jeans and he’s coming too, and Eduardo’s clinging to him, and Mark’s face is burning, buried in Eduardo’s neck. He’s shaking.

　　“Bathroom,” Eduardo says after a minute, laughing giddily against his neck, and Mark presses a hand over the wet spot and follows Eduardo to the dirty, dim bathroom.

　　Eduardo takes paper towels and wets them and brings Mark to a stall and washes him off, dabs at his jeans with his tongue poking out until Mark has to make him stop or he’ll start getting hard again.

　　He leans against the stall wall, staring at Eduardo cleaning himself off with a towel, and it’s so weird and dirty and intimate and familiar he leans his head back and laughs open-mouthed, and Eduardo laughs too and zips up and draws Mark in to his chest with one hand.

　　Mark kisses him very gently, and Eduardo rubs a thumb over the back of Mark’s neck, and Mark is so fucking in love with this person he think he might break.

　　---

　　“Am I a terrible person because I can’t go three days in the presence of a normal family without wanting to drag you into a club and fuck you in public” Eduardo asks, as they’re walking to Mark’s mom’s car, sweat cooling, fucked-out and loose-limbed.

　　“I can’t go five minutes without wanting to fuck you, period,” Mark says honestly, and Eduardo laughs and twines their arms together, threading his fingers through Mark’s.

　　“Thank you for bringing me,” Eduardo says quietly, leaning his head on Mark’s shoulder, and Mark thinks of a gold ring in a black velvet box.

　　“Yeah,” he says, low in his throat, and Eduardo sighs.

　　---

　　It takes him three weeks to work up the courage.

　　Finally it's December, and Mark keeps thinking about it, running it over in his head until he nearly bites his bottom lip off in frustration. Do you want to get married Would you like to marry me Will you marry me Let's just get fucking married!

　　And then one night they're lying side by side in Eduardo's bed. Eduardo's nearly half-asleep, since he just finished fucking Mark's brains out, and Mark is relaxed and boneless and naked.

　　"Love you," Eduardo murmurs, curling one pinky finger around Mark's. "G'night."

　　"You too," Mark says automatically, and right then he clenches his fist, the other fist, the one that Eduardo's not holding, and thinks to himself I'm going to marry Eduardo fucking Saverin.

　　He sort of wants to do a fist pump, or something manly and victorious, but he just grins secretly in the dark and closes his eyes.

　　fic: yes we can
　　fic: yes we can ( I KNOW, I KNOW, IT'S PRETENTIOUS, I RAN OUT OF LINES)
　　fandom: the social network
　　pairing: mark/eduardo
　　notes: okay, HERE'S the last part of my white house AU. title is from obama's victory speech, the full line is:

　　"And tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America — the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can."

　　warning: so fluffy teeth may rot i recommend putting a protective shield of toothpaste on now

　　So it's decided then.

　　He makes reservations at a restaurant. He stares at the ring for ten minutes. He puts on a suit. Then he stares at himself in the mirror, shakes his head, and puts on a hoodie. At least if he's rejected (oh god oh god please let him not say no) he won't have a fucking suit on.

　　He emails Deb-

　　i'm going to do it tonight.

　　And rolls his eyes when she sends back a terrifying message full of exclamation points and capital letters and tips.

　　At the end she's written- maybe I can only say this because i'm writing, not talking in person, but i'm so fucking proud of you mark. we all are. and I LOVE YOU. NO MATTER WHAT. so go get em!!!!!!!!!!

　　---

　　“Um, Eduardo,” Mark says that night, after they've ordered, and proceeds to go through a minute long coughing fit. Eduardo chews a mouthful of bread and grabs another roll from the basket as Mark drains his water glass.

　　“You okay” he asks with his mouth full. Mark nods.

　　“Eduardo,” he says. “Uh, can we talk about something”

　　“We may,” Eduardo says grandiosely, swallowing the bite. “And in the future, Mark,you don’t even need to ask before you start a conversation.”

　　Mark doesn’t even smile, just looks at him nervously. Eduardo cocks his head.

　　“What’s wrong”

　　“Nothing! Nothing. Okay. So. Eduardo.”

　　“Mark.”

　　“Um. So, Eduardo. It’s been, what, like a year”

　　“Since”

　　“Since we started- whatever, duh, Eduardo. Dating.”

　　“Okay,yeah. Like thirteen months.”

　　“Yeah. Whatever. Okay. So, um, Eduardo. What I was wondering I guess was maybe if-you-” he exhales, frustrated, shakes his head. Eduardo bites his lip to keep from smiling. “Wardo, do you want to get married”

　　Eduardo stops smiling. His mouth falls open.

　　In the silence, Mark bites his nail nervously and takes a huge sip of water, nearly chokes on it.

　　“Mark,” Eduardo murmurs, breathless. “Are you-you’re serious, aren’t you”

　　“No,” Mark says sarcastically, defensively. “Yes-yeah, Eduardo, I’m serious.”

　　“Oh my God,” Eduardo whispers to himself. “Oh my fucking- Jesus, well,yes, obviously, Mark,you idiot. I thought you were having a fucking panic attack. Fucking yes. Yes, I’ll marryyou.”

　　Mark nods, and as Eduardo leans back in his chair, still breathing irregularly, Mark gets up and leans down and kisses him hot and wet until he nearly forgets they’re in public, they’re in the middle of a restaurant, and he pulls away and Eduardo’s smiling, crinkly-eyed, like he’s staring into the sun.

　　“Mark,” he keeps saying. “Oh my God.”

　　Mark leans back, satisfied, curiously content, and belatedly remembers the ring. Shit. That was supposed to come before, wasn't it He digs it out of his pocket.

　　Eduardo’s still staring at the table, shell shocked, and Mark grabs for his hand, slides it on, carefully.

　　“Oh my God,” he says again, staring at it.

　　“I - my sister helped me. Do you-”

　　“It’s perfect,” Eduardo murmurs. “Jesus, Mark.”

　　“Who wants to tell Chris,you or me” Mark asks, and they grin at each other.

　　---

　　When they get home, Mark emails his mom instead of calling, because he values the integrity of his eardrums.

　　hey mom- eduardo and i are getting married.

　　She just responds-

　　WHAT! WHAT WHAT CALL ME IMMEDIATELY

　　and Deb says-

　　IS IT A YES TELL ME ITS A YES

　　he just types-

　　it is confirmed.

　　He turns his phone on silent and puts it on the kitchen counter and Eduardo tugs at his hoodie strings, grinning, and pulls him down onto the bed.

　　He doesn’t check his phone until nine the next morning. He has seventeen missed calls and eight emails and nine texts and Eduardo comes up behind him in the kitchen in his boxers, rubs a hand down Mark’s spine, nudges him aside to get at the coffeemaker.

　　He grabs the coffee beans from the freezer and Mark sees the glint of the ring. He sticks an entire piece of toast in his mouth to keep himself from smiling.

　　---

　　Chris sees the ring during the daily morning meeting and he chokes on his own spit. Eduardo goes pink and puts his hand under the table, and the President looks at Chris bemusedly.

　　"So sorry, sir," Chris says, coughing, shooting a wide-eyed look at Mark.

　　Mark grins.

　　"Oh my God oh my God OH MY GOD," Chris says in one breath, grabbing Eduardo's hand when they leave. "This- Mark- I-"

　　"You sound kinda like a thirteen year old girl at a Justin Bieber concert," Mark says thoughtfully, and Eduardo snorts.

　　

"I'm not even going to address the fact that you know who Justin Bieber is because oh my God, Mark,you guys, just, congratulations!"



　　Eduardo smiles soft-eyed and turns his hand over to let Chris see.



　　"What happened When Where If it was somewhere like the Lincoln Memorial I'm going to die. Oh God, Mark."

　　"Yesterday, and, thank God it was La Focca. Though I do think Lincoln would have approved."

　　"Unfounded rumors," Mark says, laughing, and Dustin comes over to see what the fuss is about.

　　When he sees the ring he starts screaming.

　　"Jesus, Dustin-"

　　"HOLY FUCKING SHIT I totally called it, I called it, I said you- Chris,you owe me fifty dollars. Mazel tov,you adorable little gaybies!"

　　"Gaybies"

　　"Gay babies," Chris supplies automatically, and then goes red. "Oh God. And Dustin, how many times do I need to tell you, we never made a bet. There is no bet. It doesn't exist."

　　"Whatever, pay up, sucka. You can buy me dinner."

　　Chris rolls his eyes and walks off arguing with him, and Eduardo smiles at him and goes into his office.

　　---

　　Mark doesn't quite know what to do then.

　　He calls his mom, because she usually knows things like this.

　　"Mazel tov, sweetheart!" she yells into the phone, and he hears Annie in the background screaming "Congratulations Mark!"

　　"Thanks-yeah, Mom, I said- thanks, Mom, can you take it off speakerphone"

　　"I'm so excited!" his mom squeals, and Mark nods.

　　"Yeah,yeah, I- I am too. Mom. I have a question."

　　"What is it, honey Oh God, how did it happen, I need every detail, Deb told me a little bit but oh my God, Marky, I'm so happy-"

　　"Mom!"

　　"Oh, I'm sorry, what's up"

　　"Just - Mom, what do I do now"

　　"What do you mean"

　　"I mean, like, I want to get married."

　　There's a silence, and then his mom says, voice thick, "Oh honey! Talk to your fiance! Oh, Mark,you are so clueless sometimes."

　　"Thanks," Mark says dryly.

　　"I'm sorry. Just- just talk to Eduardo! And set a date! And then let me help plan it, remember when I did Annie's, oh my God, it was so gorgeous- the theme was pastels, and it worked so well in the spring-"

　　"Mom. I don't care about that stuff."

　　"But you're having a wedding, Mark. Don't you dare just go down to a courthouse or something. You are not taking this wedding away from me."

　　"Mom,you sound insane."

　　"Mark, hon, just set a date and then tell me. Oh God, the President's going to be there, isn't he The President at my baby's wedding, I can't believe it."

　　"He probably won't come."

　　"You're inviting him, though. You are."

　　"Mom..."

　　"Mark, I don't want to argue about this. But I will. And I will win. Go talk to Eduardo. I love you. Call me soon."

　　"Okay," Mark says dubiously, and hangs up. He's still confused.

　　---

　　He emails Eduardo, because he might be engaged (holy fuck he's engaged) to the guy, but he still feels weird about this.

　　hey eduardo-

　　we should set a date for the wedding. and plan it and stuff.

　　"The wedding", like it's someone else. Mark feels stupid about sending it but he does anyway, and knows Eduardo gets it because he hears him laugh from his office. Dustin peeks over the cubicle quizzically, and Mark waves him away and goes to his office.

　　"Hi," he says cautiously, and Eduardo looks up, eyes sparkling, grinning.

　　"We should like plan it and stuff" he repeats, and cracks up. Mark rolls his eyes and leans against his desk and Eduardo puts his head down on the desk and laughs hysterically.

　　"It's not that funny," Mark says sullenly, and Eduardo nods, wiping tears away.

　　"I'm sorry, babe," he says, still biting his lip to keep from laughing. "It was just so- an email. Oh God, Mark, I love you."

　　Mark shuffles his feet, says nothing, and Eduardo composes himself.

　　"Let's talk about it. Okay When- when do you want to get married"

　　"As soon as possible," Mark says reflexively, and goes hot. Eduardo's rolling his eyes, smiling, cheeks pink from laughter.

　　"You better not be envisioning some kind of courthouse elopement," Eduardo says very seriously, shaking his head. "I want my dress and a train, damnit."

　　"First of all, that's weird, and second of all,you sound like my mom."

　　"I'm going to choose to be honored by that," Eduardo says. "So, 'the wedding'. Not our wedding, oh no. The wedding. We're wedding planners now, apparently."

　　"Shut up," Mark grumbles despairingly, and Eduardo positively cackles.

　　---

　　In the end, they settle on April.

　　"A spring wedding!" his mom screams over the phone. She sounds like a five year old at FAO Schwarz. Mark is somewhat terrified.

　　Do NOT let mom bring out the pastels, that's too gay even for you, his sister sends him.

　　"I like April," Eduardo says thoughtfully, and that's really all Mark cares about.

　　---

　　In January, Eduardo goes to Miami for a day. He says he wants to see his mother, check on his sister's baby, but of course, he ends up in his father's study, standing before him like he always has been. He swallows nervously.

　　"I said, we're getting married, Pai."

　　His father's eyes are very sharp. Eduardo is a little nervous, but fuck if his father's going to scare him anymore.

　　"Where"

　　"In the District of Columbia, Father. Where we live."

　　His father smiles for a second, his shit-eating campaign grin, and Eduardo briefly thinks he's going to go against twenty-seven years of evidence and support him for once.

　　And then he says, "That's ridiculous. That is not happening."

　　Eduardo's face goes hot. He shouldn't have expected anything. He remembers Mark saying why are you even going down there and Eduardo's still not sure.

　　"I love Mark and we're getting married and that- that is not up for discussion," Eduardo says, trying to sound firm. His father is staring at him, naked plain disgust in his face. This is the first time Eduardo has been in the same room with his father without reporters in four years.

　　"Why are you doing this to me, Eduardo" he asks, and Eduardo cannot fucking believe this.

　　"I'm not doing anything to you!" he says, and his father interrupts, talking over him-

　　"I get it, Eduardo. You have my attention now,you spoilt little child. You've always wanted it, so here it is."

　　"You don't know anything about me," Eduardo chokes out. "You- this has nothing to do with you."

　　His father laughs. "Don't delude yourself. You're so goddamn selfish,you always have been. You're not capable of loving anyone."

　　Eduardo's face is burning and his chest is tight and he feels eight years old again, when his father would twist the skin on his inner wrists when he brought his report card home.

　　"You-you're-you don't know what you're talking about," he says, and swipes a hand across his eyes. "I'm getting married. I-" he takes a deep breath, steadies himself. He is not eight years old. He is not fifteen, hearing his father tell a reporter that he'd never let his son grow up to live an "immoral lifestyle". He is not a seventeen year old getting kicked out for blowing the housekeeper's son. He is not even nineteen, home on break from that "liberal terrorist college" and watching his father burn his textbooks. He is not. A. Child.

　　"I'm going to have a fucking wedding with my boyfriend, and after we're going to go home, our home, and he's going to fuck me senseless," he spits out, somewhat childishly really but fuck him fuck everything, and he can see his father's lip curl. He knows that his father wants to hit him, has always wanted to hit him.

　　"You pathetic slut," his father says.

　　"Oh yeah, I'm such a slut because I'm going to have sex with my husband," Eduardo says hotly, and this isn't even the point of the discussion and he sounds hysterical, immature, but he wants to hurt his father, rip at him, be better than him.

　　"It's not a marriage in the eyes of God, it's a sick perversion, so yes,you're a-"

　　"And of course you're such a saint, father. You fucking hypocrite."

　　His father's hand twitches at his side, raises in a knee-jerk motion. Eduardo laughs.

　　"I would love for you to hit me," he whispers, leaning closer. "Give me a couple bruises. See what the good people of Florida would think about adultery and child abuse, right-"

　　"Shut your fucking perverted mouth and get out of my house."

　　"Gladly!"

　　His father slams the door behind him, and Eduardo walks steadily until he's down the driveway and around the corner and sees a couple reporters. How the fuck had they found out He waves, getting into his cab, and only when they've pulled away and he's said "Miami International, please" does he let himself exhale shakily, press the heels of his hands into his eyes.

　　He has three new texts from Mark.

　　chris just fell walking up to the press stand

　　dustin is crying with laughter

　　please, please call me soon. text me at least so i know you're alive

　　Eduardo can't talk to him, not now.

　　----

　　On the flight a girl hits on him until she sees his engagement ring, and then coos over him and asks about it.

　　"You're from Miami, then"

　　Eduardo nods politely. "Originally. I work in D.C., now."

　　"You're not FBI, are you Or could you not even tell me if you were How mysterious."

　　He laughs. "I'm an economic advisor. To- to the President." And that still feels weird to say.

　　Her eyes go wide. "That's amazing. You meet her in the White House"

　　"Hmm"

　　She gestures at the ring.

　　"Oh, um. Yeah." He hesitates, nodding down at the thick elegant gold band, and says, "Him, actually. My fiance."

　　He hasn't said that out loud before, and his mouth quirks up into a smile. The woman's aww-ing, and Eduardo notices she's reading the Times and she has a Wesleyan sticker on her laptop. He feels somewhat terrible for categorizing like that, but whatever, thank fuck she's presumably liberal.

　　"It's not the press secretary, is it He is adorable. That sounds creepy, probably. But he is really the highlight of C-SPAN."

　　Eduardo laughs. "You watch C-SPAN for Chris. God, he is going to love that. But no- no, my fiance works in Internet communications. He-you might know him because he was on Fox, last year"

　　It's dawning on her, and she actually snorts with laughter. "Oh my God, my friends and I used to quote that clip all the time. I love that guy! If that turns you on, go for it," she parrots.

　　Eduardo ducks his head, grinning. "Yeah, well. Most people would say he's a little bit of an asshole."

　　"An asshole with good taste," she says, winking and then taking Eduardo's hand in hers and looking more closely at the ring. "This is amazing."

　　"Thank you," Eduardo says softly. "So,you go to Wesleyan I went to Brown, myself. I can totally out-liberal you."

　　---

　　Eduardo texts Mark when he's back, waves at him the next day, but goes straight into his office. Mark is killing himself over a new release and he barely looks up. It's not until five hours later, in mid-afternoon, that Mark knocks on Eduardo's office door.

　　"Yeah," Eduardo calls, and Mark comes in, leans against the desk facing Eduardo, knocks his knee against Eduardo's.

　　"Hey," he says.

　　"Hey."

　　"How was it"

　　"It was fine."

　　"Fine, like, the Senator's on board with repealing DOMA and is officiating our wedding fine, or fine like,you're trying to be all heroic about it fine."

　　"The latter," Eduardo admits. "But really, Mark, it'll be fine."

　　"Do you think he'll come"

　　"No," Eduardo says, too emphatically, and Mark looks at him knowingly like it had been a litmus test. Eduardo looks down.

　　"What did he say," Mark asks quietly, nudging Eduardo with his leg again.

　　"Mark-"

　　"You might as well tell me."

　　"And why is that"

　　Mark shrugs. "I don't know. So I know what to tell the hired assassin."

　　Eduardo laughs weakly. "Dumbass."

　　"He called you a dumbass The scoundrel!"

　　Eduardo laughs again, leans his head against Mark's arm for a second.

　　"He said I was a selfish child and a pervert and a slut," Eduardo says, voice forced calm and jovial like it's a joke, like they'll both suddenly burst out laughing. Mark is silent.

　　"I- that-" he says finally, slowly, and Eduardo cuts in before he can work himself into a rage and kill the Internet or something. Mark could probably hack everything in Florida in ten minutes. Eduardo does not doubt him.

　　"Though really I was being provocative. Said after the wedding you were going to fuck me senseless."

　　Mark doesn't crack a smile, and Eduardo puts a hand on his knee. "It's okay, Mark, seriously. I mean, I'm not fully okay but I'm going to be."

　　Mark nods to himself. "Wait, does this mean that we're actually going to have to have sex at some point" he asks quietly, smiling slightly. Eduardo rolls his eyes and squeezes his knee.

　　"Idiot," he mutters, and Mark goes on-

　　"I don't know if I'm okay with that. I thought we were getting married because of all the benefits."

　　"You're right," Eduardo says mock-thoughtfully. "Never mind. I'l have to postpone this engagement until Congress gets us full benefits. If I don't get a tax credit out of this, what was it all for"

　　Mark laughs, puts a hand over Eduardo's on his leg.

　　"My family loves you," he says stiltedly. "More than me, I think."

　　Eduardo nods, and squeezes Mark's hand.

　　---

　　The reporter looks positively hungry. Mark is sort of scared. He doesn't have a great history with reporters.

　　"So," she says, clicking on her tape recorder and uncapping her pen. "You two are the most widely known couple in the White House after the President and the First Lady. That must be exciting."

　　Mark snorts. Eduardo nudges his knee against his, briefly, and nods politely.

　　"How did you two meet"

　　

Mark has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. He has no fucking idea why Chris made them do this. He assured them the reporter was friendly, liberal, and had promised to not write any too-revealing bullshit, but he still resented actually having to talk.

　　

"I was brought in by the administration as a specialist on the economy, and Mark actually showed me around on the first day."

　　

"Can you elaborate on what you do, exactly, Mr. Zuckerberg So my readers have a clear idea."

　　

"Of course," Mark says, forced polite by Eduardo's sneaky elbow. "I'm the president's online advisor, which means I coordinate the administration's Internet message and oversee the different avenues that entails, like Twitter or Facebook."

　　

"Mark's actually a co-founder of Facebook," Eduardo adds, and the woman's eyes light up.

　　

"Really"

　　

"Not really. Yes, I did some of the initial work on the site, but I left the company very early on."

　　

"We all know Billy Olsen was just named Person of the Year,you must be acquainted with him, then"

　　

"He was my roommate, at Harvard."

　　

"Wow," she says. "Did you hear they're making a movie, of his life"

　　

"No!" Eduardo says, grinning. "Mark,you're going to be in a movie."

　　

"Maybe they'll get, uh, Brad Pitt to playyou," the woman says awkwardly, laughing at her own little joke, and Eduardo snorts quietly. Mark rolls his eyes again.

　　

"Wouldn't be very realistic," Eduardo says musingly, and he and the woman laugh. Mark rolls his eyes.

　　

"Hilarious," Mark says dryly, and Eduardo pats his knee placatingly.

　　

"Anyway- what were your feelings upon being outed by the Journal Panic Relief Was there a strong media backlash"



　　Eduardo chews his lip.

　　"I- personally, I was a little dismayed by the manner in which it was made public. It all seemed very Hollywood-esque and seedy and just- unnecessarily personal, if you know what I mean. It has no reflection on my work and what we've accomplished in the White House. At the same time, though-" he glances at Mark, eyes soft, and they make eye contact for a second. Mark coughs and looks down.



　　"- I'm happy, about it. Now."

　　

The woman is nodding.

　　

"So, the engagement. How did it come about What made you think, now's the time to get married"
 
She directs the question at Eduardo, and he laughs.

　　"You're going to need to ask Mark, since, uh, he proposed."



　　Mark goes red.

　　

"Oh, really! Mr. Zuckerberg, I apologize."

　　

"Okay, well, I just- um,you know, I was already planning on being with Eduardo, for- uh, for,you know, the rest of my life, and um, as a resident of Washington D.C., we're so privileged in that we have the right to get married, so I just thought-you know, let's uh, let's make it official."

　　

"Practical," the woman says, smiling, nodding to herself.

　　

"Mark is nothing if not practical," Eduardo says fondly.



　　"And you were engaged... three months ago"



　　"Uh, December. So yes. Three months."



　　"Where'd it happen" She's leaning forward, like a teenage girl at a sleepover.

　　

"We were out to dinner, in Georgetown. At- La Focca, wasn't it, Mark"

　　

Mark nods, looking sideways at Eduardo, all put together in his Dolce suit and slicked-back hair, talking about their relationship with a reporter, and he feels a curious little bubble of pride rise in him. Eduardo is so brave. He's the bravest person Mark's ever met.

　　

"And everyone knows your father, of course, Eduardo. Senator Saverin is-" and Mark tunes back in, blinking, clutching Eduardo's knee protectively.

　　Eduardo's face is impassive, unreadable, but he lets Mark keep his hand there.

　　

"-the Senator has established himself as one of the nation's leading opponents of same sex marriage. How do you reconcile that around the dinner table, so to speak"

　　

"Um," Eduardo starts, and Mark cuts in, "That has nothing to do with our-"



　　"Mark. It's fine. My- the Senator and I don't see eye to eye on many issues. Of course, he is still my family, and we maintain a cordial professional relationship."



　　The woman is looking at them with pity, and Mark's face burns. She should never get to- Eduardo doesn't need her pity.

　　

"So, he'll be coming to the wedding" she asks, a little hesitantly.

　　"That's none of your business-" Mark says hotly, and Eduardo shuts him up with a look and a gentle Mark.



　　"Unfortunately, my father will not able to attend due to scheduling conflicts," he says, voice flat.

　　

"Hmm," the woman says, writing something down. Eduardo's back is straight and stiff, his knee jiggling slightly. Mark puts a hand on it to hold it down, for a second. Eduardo looks at him and smiles automatically, but it doesn't reach his eyes.




　　---

　　"She had no right to ask you about that," Mark says furiously, pacing around Eduardo's office. Eduardo is typing idly with one hand and eating an apple.

　　"Mark, it's not a big deal," he says with his mouth full.

　　"Really, though. Nosy bitch."

　　"Mark! Don't be rude. She was doing her job."

　　Mark shakes his head, pulling out his Blackberry and checking his emails.

　　"Sorry," he mutters. Eduardo tosses the apple core in the trash.

　　"It's fine. Just, relax. She was nice, it'll be fine."

　　Mark nods grudgingly, and Eduardo stands up and pulls him into an embrace.

　　"One month," he says, and Mark shivers. He nods again.

　　"I have to finish this mock-up by tomorrow. You want to help me edit tonight"

　　"Sure," Mark says, rubbing a hand up Eduardo's back, then pulling away. Eduardo sits back down and digs in his desk for a pen.

　　"I don't have any work until later," Mark adds. "You want me to go grab sandwiches"

　　"Mm,yeah, that'd be great. Turkey and swiss, please."

　　"I know," Mark says automatically, and Eduardo cocks his head in surprise, grins at him. Mark goes hot.

　　"I'll be back," he says, opening the door, and ignores Eduardo's awful attempt at a Terminator impression, closing it behind him.

　　----

　　The days trickle by quickly and it's the day of his wedding before he can take a breath. His wedding. Jesus Christ.

　　He's sitting in a classroom of a huge temple in suburban D.C., and Chris is fussing over him. Chris is with him and Dustin is with Eduardo, which hardly seems fair.

　　"You nervous" Chris asks, and Mark shrugs.

　　"I'm nervous," Chris says queasily. "I'm scared Dustin's as-yet-undiagnosed Tourette's will surface during the middle of the ceremony, or Sean will show up and say something-"

　　"Chris, stop," Mark says, taking the lint roller out of Chris' hands.

　　Chris looks at him, and a smile breaks out on his face.

　　"Proud of you," he says, and folds him in a hug.

　　"Thanks," Mark mutters, pulling away, biting his lip, and he's saved from having to say something deep and bromantic by his mom and sisters rushing in.

　　"Sweetheart, it's almost time to go, oh God, I'm so nervous-"

　　"Why is everyone so nervous It's a wedding, not rocket science," Mark says exasperatedly, and Deb giggles into her hand.

　　"Okay. Okay. Good luck, my love. Good luck, Chris."

　　"Thanks, Linda. Congratulations. Your most socially awkward one somehow bloomed."

　　Deb giggles again and holds out her hand for a high-five. Chris slaps it, then Mark's shoulder, and leaves. His mom and sisters follow, and Deb squeezes his hand.

　　"You got this," she says like a football coach, and Mark nods. He is not nervous, and he doesn't understand why other people are.

　　---

　　Ten minutes later he's outside the synagogue and he thinks he might throw up. So maybe he gets why people thought he'd be nervous. His leg keeps jittering, and he keeps swallowing convulsively.

　　He somehow makes it down the aisle and then he is staring at Eduardo and Eduardo is looking back and Mark takes a deep breath. He can do this.

　　---

　　"Eduardo, I-" he looks at Deb, at his mom in the first row, at Dustin and Chris behind Eduardo, standing side by side, at the fucking President of the United States, sitting there at his, Mark Zuckerberg's fucking wedding.

　　"Wardo, I - when I was ten my parents got divorced and I didn't think- I didn't think I'd ever want to get married."

　　He can't look at his mom or his dad or his dad's girlfriend. Eduardo's staring at him, eyes soft.

　　"I didn't- I thought it was a waste of time. But- Eduardo, when I met you-" he has to stop and take a shaky breath. "I just. I knew I wanted to spend a lot of time with you. Preferably the rest of my life."



　　Eduardo laughs silently, eyes wide and wet and open.



　　"And I didn't think we needed to get married. I didn't think I needed a ring, or a certificate, to show how- how much in love with you I was. But- we've been, I've seen so many people who want this, to get married. It means everything, to some people. And I think, I think, I just- hearing these stories, of these people who want to get married but can't, it just- we're so lucky to be here in DC, and I am so lucky to have you."



　　He sneaks a look away. His mom is crying quietly. Annie's holding her hand, grinning so hard it looks like her face'll freeze that way. Deb gives him a quick thumbs-up, and from behind Eduardo's shoulder, so does Chris.

　　

"And I want you to be part of my family. Officially. Because, Wardo." He clears his throat. "Eduardo, I love you so much."



　　Eduardo is biting his lip, cheeks flushed.

　　

"And- and that's it," Mark finishes awkwardly, and everyone laughs, and Eduardo laughs full-throated and wet, and it sounds like a sob, but happy. Mark looks at his nose, then his lips, his ear and his eyebrow and then straight into his eyes and Eduardo is smiling so wide he can barely see, and Mark is so fucking excited.

　　

"I had to write mine down," Eduardo says, digging a piece of paper out of his pocket, "I'm not as good as Mark."

He laughs, and Mark kicks at his foot, grinning.

　　

"Uh, alright." He coughs, and Mark can tell he's nervous. Mark knows when he's nervous. He's never been like that with anyone.

　　

"Mark. I- when we met-" he coughs again, and Mark's eyes sting suddenly, burn at the edges. He inhales in shock, because he is not crying that is not possible.

　　

"Okay. Shit, I'm sorry."

Mark laughs, a little hysterically. Eduardo chews his lip and steels himself and looks up.

"Mark. I never thought, in my life, that I would have this. I- I don't know why, maybe the fact that I work eighteen hours a day or- or sometimes I don't- I didn't think I deserved it, I don't know-"



　　Mark's breath is stuck in his chest. He is struggling to breathe.

　　

"- but, just, every day, I think every day I'm with you, Mark, I'm learning that -you make me feel like I deserve it. Like I deserve to be as happy as you make me."

 He says this last sentence woodenly, awkwardly, but it doesn't matter because his eyes are glinting and his breath is coming in short rough bursts. Mark wants to hold him.

　　And Mark is giddy and sick with fear and excitement and happiness, because he has never felt responsible for another person like this, and God Eduardo's the one who's taking pity on Mark by having him, and it's not- it's such a mess of feelings, Mark would use to want to run away.

　　

Eduardo is blinking and swiping a hand over his eyes and Mark does not want to run away anymore.

　　

"I am so lucky. I am so- Mark, I know what you're thinking, and it's true, I am. I'm going to stop now, but. Mark. Love you."



　　He nods, and Mark nods, and then the non-denominational-ish but still slightly Jewish officiate says something and then someone else says something else and Mark just wants to kiss Eduardo already. People do that, at weddings, right

　　

Finally Eduardo's stepping towards him, unsure, and Mark has not been listening but Eduardo draws Mark's head towards his with one hand and Mark gets with it. Oh. Kissing.

　　

People are cheering. Eduardo pulls back when Mark nips at his lip, gives him a stern look, but he can't keep down his grin, so Mark doesn't take it too seriously.



　　Mark looks around, shell-shocked, face hot, and Eduardo is clutching at Mark's arm and stamping on a glass wrapped in a napkin, laughing into his neck when it doesn't break at first and Mark sees Dustin is laughing through his tears. People are clapping and yelling "L'chaim!" and Chris is dry-eyed but grinning. His mother is sobbing. Erica is misting up. Even the fucking President looks a little watery. Mark is overwhelmed by this, by everything, but- but he is ready, too. For everything.

　　

"C'mon," Eduardo says into his ear, grabbing his hand, and Mark is so ready.

　　---

　　Eduardo sleeps in the limo Mark's mom insisted on getting, on the way home. He curls up against Mark's shoulder and Mark puts an arm around him, tipsy and drowsy, and yawns.

　　"We're home," he says quietly when they get there, and Eduardo stirs,yawns.

　　"Home," he says muzzily, grinning before he even opens his eyes, and Mark pushes him up the stairs to the apartment.

　　"Want you to fuck me senseless," Eduardo says slowly, but he stumbles toward the bed and falls, grabs at a pillow and stuffs his face into it. Mark looks at him for a second, then takes off his uncomfortable fancy suit and shirt and nudges himself into the familiar heat of Eduardo's body.

　　Eduardo shifts, makes a little sound, and Mark takes a breath of his scent, the sweet sting of alcohol, the powdery smell of fabric softener, expensive cologne, and something deep, something musky, that's just Eduardo.

　　"I'm glad we got married," Eduardo murmurs incoherently, and Mark huffs out a soft laugh into his collarbone.

　　"I am also quite pleased," he says.

　　"Love," Eduardo starts, and drops off, mouth open. Mark moves closer and follows him into the bone-deep warmth of sleep, pressing one last open-mouthed, haphazard kiss to his collarbone.

　　---

　　Mark wakes up, and Eduardo is licking his thighs.

　　"Hmm," he says, still asleep but already hard, and Eduardo breathes against him and sucks the tip of his cock into his mouth.

　　"Oh, oh- fuck,yeah, Wardo," Mark says, waking up, blinking slowly, and he pushes himself up on his elbows and watches.

　　Eduardo sucks at the head and licks him and presses kisses down the shaft and it's so good, Mark keeps slipping back, nearly falling, elbows going weak.

　　"That's so good," he says randomly, encouragingly, still fuzzy-headed with sleep, and Eduardo nudges Mark's legs further apart and mouths at his balls. He rubs a finger provocatively, teasing, over Mark's asshole, and Mark digs his fingers into the bed, moaning.

　　"Morning," Eduardo says, voice sounding like he's smiling, and he dips his head even further and licks at- there, around and then inside, and Mark shudders, shocked and turned-on and skin prickling hot.

　　"Holy fucking- Christ, Wardo, just fuck me already."

　　Eduardo nods and grins and licks his own fingers sloppily and fingers Mark open until he's a mess, shaking, and Eduardo's not even thrusting his fingers anymore, he's just got two inside him, pushing again and again at Mark's prostrate, and Mark throws his head back, lets out a groan.

　　"Hurry, hurry, hurry," he chants, and Eduardo twists to reach the condoms in the bedside drawer, other hand still deep inside Mark, and Mark is slowly and steadily twisting his hips, fucking himself, trying to get himself off.

　　"Be patient," Eduardo says, rolling on a condom, and he takes his fingers out of Mark and Mark makes a pained little noise and then a long low groan when Eduardo pushes carefully into him.

　　"Yeah" Eduardo asks, and Mark nods, biting his lip. Eduardo thrusts out, then in again. Mark wraps his legs around Eduardo's waist, and says, "Faster."

　　Eduardo goes faster, and bends down to kiss him, and he tastes like spit and sweat and sleep. Mark's cock is trapped between their bodies, and he moans, twisting his hips up, trying to find friction, until Eduardo reaches a hand between them and takes him in his hand, wet with precome. Mark sucks in a breath and Eduardo is pulling him off in long strokes, and it only takes a minute or two until he's coming, biting his lip and then arching upward to kiss Eduardo through it.

　　"Jesus, Mark," Eduardo says, eyes wide, and Mark keeps working his body upward, trying to get Eduardo to come. Finally he takes Eduardo's chest in both hands and rubs his thumbs roughly over Eduardo's nipples, clenching around him at the same time, and Eduardo puts his head down and comes hard.

　　He collapses on top of Mark and pulls out gently and rolls onto his back, breathing hard, one hand on his wet belly.

　　Mark is grinning fiercely up at the ceiling, satisfied and exhausted and so fucking content he can't even find the words.

　　"I like being married," Eduardo says musingly, and Mark laughs wildly, rolls halfway over and puts his hand over Eduardo's on Eduardo's stomach.

　　"Shower" he says, hoarsely, and Eduardo grins and turns his head and kisses him. He hops up, stretching,yawning, long lean torso twisting, and Mark exhales, watching him.

　　He thinks, I like being married too, Wardo. To you, specifically.

　　He doesn't say it, not this time. He has the rest of his life to say it.

　　---

　　“Next comes the baby in the baby carriage,” Dustin says teasingly, flicking Mark in the shoulder. Mark laughs from where he’s leaning against Eduardo on the massive, pillowy couch, a present from Mark's aunt.

　　“Oh God,” Eduardo says at the same time that Mark says, “Fuck no.”

　　“I’m definitely not prepared for that level of tokenism,” Eduardo says, laughing, and Mark nods against his chest.

　　“No, but seriously! Adopt a little Chinese baby! Oh my God, it’d be so cute. We could name it Little Flower.”

　　“Okay, first of all, we could name it Second- Little Flower That sounds really PC. I’m sure no one would think that was weird or culturally insensitive at all. Third, please try to imagine Mark with a child,” Eduardo says, and Dustin snorts.

　　“Feeding it Red Bull. Teaching it how to type.”

　　“He’d probably keep it in a little box under his desk,” Chris says, sniggering. Dustin gives him a fist-bump.

　　“Assholes,” Mark says mildly, and Eduardo laughs into his hair.

　　"So, Wardo,you got that job, right"

　　"Yeah," Eduardo says modestly.

　　"They begged for him," Mark adds, and Eduardo laughs warmly.

　　"Think. Tank," Dustin says thoughtfully. "I like how that sounds. Tink Thank. Think Tank."

　　"Uh, thanks, Dustin."

　　"No prob, bro. Mark, what are you even going to do without your boo in the White House"

　　"Probably just have to have phone sex, I guess," Mark says flatly, and Eduardo laughs.

　　"Mark," Chris says warningly, and Mark grins at him. Chris rolls his eyes.

　　"Don't worry, Chris. I'll keep it strictly to text," Eduardo says authoritatively, and Dustin gives him a fist-bump.

　　“Okay, Dustin, we should head out,” Chris says, standing up from the armchair.

　　“Wha, why, I’m tired,” Dustin mumbles tipsily. “This chair is like a cloud.”

　　“They’ve been married for three days, Dustin, they still need their privacy.”

　　“Ewwww,” Dustin groans. Mark goes red.

　　“You’re worse than Mark’s mom, Chris,” Eduardo says, tightening the arm around Mark’s shoulders. “I think we were both scarred for life when she visited the apartment and started going on about our sexual health.”

　　“Bleghhh,” Dustin says into the chair. “Leaving, okay, leaving.”

　　Chris waves as they leave, and Mark and Eduardo end up tangled together on the sofa. Mark’s pressed against Eduardo’s chest, snuffling, and Eduardo’s knee is poking into Mark’s thigh. Mark murmurs and shifts, and Eduardo pulls him closer, jostles them until it’s comfortable and kisses the top of his head.

　　"Bed" Eduardo asks quietly, and Mark pushes his face harder into Eduardo's warm strong torso.

　　"No," he murmurs. "Too tired."

　　"Kay," Eduardo says, body relaxing. Mark can feel the vibrations of his voice.

　　He thinks about that first time, when Eduardo had done up Mark's shirt and drawn him in gently by the hips and said it's not going to be perfect, but it's going to be exciting. It's going to be a challenge and I'm excited.

　　Mark is so excited.

　　FIN