social network (mark/eduardo)
2,833 words. nc-17. written for elefante_locura — , for help_japan — ! here, have a porny coda to tires sing to the asphalt.
thanks to little_missmimi — for looking this over for me! elefante_locura — , sorry for the delay, and I hope you like this! ♥
(translated into chinese by amilie, here. ♥)
Mark is just stepping out of the shower when the front door slams. Three people besides him have keys – Eduardo, Dustin, and his parents – but the only one Mark is expecting is Eduardo. He’s coming home today.
Mark almost snorts at the quiet tone of Eduardo’s voice. As if he’s worried that Mark would be asleep already. It’s 9PM, and Eduardo is coming home today. Mark has been waiting.
“Upstairs,” Mark yells, and grabs a towel. He cursorily wipes himself dry, and leaves the towel on the floor of the bathroom. He can hear Eduardo’s footsteps on the uncarpeted stairs, the sound of bare feet. Eduardo always leaves his shoes in the front hall. Mark still uses it as a way to tell if he’s home or not.
Mark doesn’t bother to reach for clothes, so when Eduardo finally makes it to the doorway, suitcase in one hand, briefcase slung over one shoulder, Mark is naked, standing by the foot of the bed. Eduardo sucks in a quick breath, and pulls his lower lip between his teeth.
“How was your trip?” Mark asks. Eduardo lets his suitcase fall to the floor, but sets the briefcase down more carefully. His eyes don’t leave Mark, tracking up and down his body.
“I missed you,” Eduardo says, fervent, and they’ll hash out the details later – if Eduardo got the contracts signed, if his clients will stick with him through his relocation, if his landlord let him out of his lease – but right now, that’s all that matters. Eduardo missed him.
Mark could say, I missed you, too, and he’d mean it, but he’s too impatient. He takes three steps forward, and pushes Eduardo’s open suit jacket off of his shoulders, leaving it to puddle on the floor. Then he wraps a hand around the back of Eduardo’s neck and kisses him.
Eduardo makes a needy noise, only muffled by Mark’s mouth, and one of his hands slides over Mark’s shoulder, down his naked back. These organizational trips are grueling, and a month is a long time.
Mark pushes up into Eduardo’s space, curling his free hand into the back of Eduardo’s shirt. He loves the feel of Eduardo’s slacks against his hips and thighs, Eduardo’s shirt and the thin leather of his belt pressed into Mark’s stomach. The belt buckle is cold, but it’s worth it for the way that Eduardo deepens the kiss, sliding into something desperate and gasping. Mark is naked but not vulnerable – he can feel Eduardo getting hard through his trousers, and he has nothing but power, here, right now. Eduardo’s fingers dig into his back, and then slide down to cup his ass.
Mark’s cock twitches, obvious, and he’s working his way past half-hard, despite the coarse fabric against his skin. Eduardo’s fingers push between the cheeks of his ass, and Mark shudders all over. This is something that he wants, soon, but not yet. He bites into Eduardo’s mouth and pulls back.
“Yeah,” he says, “but not yet.” Eduardo’s eyes are all pupil, deep and wet and dark. His mouth is red and his cheeks are flushed. Mark wants to touch him everywhere.
“What –” Eduardo starts, but Mark drops to his knees, and Eduardo cuts himself off. His fingers brush Mark’s skin as he moves, and then flutter, helpless, at the back of Mark’s head. Mark nuzzles the front of Eduardo’s slacks; Eduardo’s cock is hard, and Mark can feel it twitch against the press of his cheek. Eduardo’s hips stutter and he’s breathing openmouthed and wanting. “Mark,” he says, “fuck, Mark.”
Mark laughs, and goes for Eduardo’s belt, fingers quick and sure. He’s not certain what he looks like right now, naked and kneeling, Eduardo fully clothed above him, but he likes it. He pops the button on Eduardo’s trousers and pulls down the zipper. Eduardo’s pants sag, but don’t fall off of him. He’s wearing black boxer-briefs, and Mark tugs the pants down enough that they catch on Eduardo’s skinny thighs, and mouths the front of the cotton underneath. He sucks in, the line of Eduardo’s cock obvious through the fabric, and Eduardo makes a wounded noise, fingernails scratching the back of Mark’s neck but not sinking in. Mark’s tongue finds the slit in the fabric, and the skin underneath.
“Stop fucking teasing,” Eduardo says, more a gasp than anything, and he’s not trying to force Mark down, though Mark wouldn’t really mind. Mark hooks his fingers into the elastic of the boxer-briefs, and pulls them down, gentle, gentle. Eduardo’s cock bobs up, hard and full, and Mark leans in to suck the head into his mouth, just for a moment. Eduardo is mostly trapped by his slacks and his underwear, both half pulled up. Mark leans back for a moment, to look at him, and Eduardo whimpers.
“Jesus, fuck, Mark,” Eduardo says. “I missed you so fucking much.”
He looks desperate and needy and so fucking hot that Mark can’t believe this is his, that he has this. That he deserves to have this. Eduardo’s shirt is sticking to his chest with sweat, and his tie is slightly loose, framing his neck and collarbones, and his cock is hard, jutting out from the below the hem of his shirt, wet with Mark’s saliva and his own precome.
So Mark just leans forward and sucks him down, as far as he can go. He tastes like skin and sweat and precome, and Mark pushes his tongue just beneath the flared head because of the sound Eduardo always makes, that keen, like something hard and brutal is being pulled from him. Mark’s not going to let him come from this, but he wants to hear that noise.
Mark holds on with one hand on Eduardo’s hip and lets the other trail over Eduardo’s thighs, up his flank to the curve of his ass. Eduardo is trembling, a little, trying not to push into Mark’s mouth as he sucks and hums and licks.
“Mark, you can’t – I’m too – Mark,” Eduardo says, and Mark pulls off. Eduardo’s cock is slick, and wet, and Mark wants it inside him, so he’s not going to make Eduardo come now, however much he wants to. Eduardo is heaving in huge, gasping breaths.
Mark pushes his head against Eduardo’s thigh and lets Eduardo pet his hair, running his fingers through the wet curls. Mark feels almost dizzy with how aroused he is, and he lets himself breathe deeply a few times, in and out, before he straightens up. Eduardo looks something close to wrecked, but he’s watching Mark move with the attention of a hunter, eyes narrowed with concentration. He’s collecting himself, and Mark doesn’t mind.
“On the bed,” Eduardo says. His voice is even, though Mark can hear the hitch it in, where he’s still out of breath and slightly overwhelmed. That, more than anything else, is why he listens. Eduardo steps out of his slacks and boxer-briefs, and then starts on the buttons of his shirt. Mark slides onto the bed on his back and watches.
When Eduardo is naked, he goes to the bedside drawer and fishes out the half-used tube of lubricant.
“I had to buy some while I was out there,” he says, waving the tube for emphasis as he takes the steps to the bed. “I fingered myself a few times, thinking about you. Not the same, obviously, but I couldn’t help myself.” He snaps the cap open and squirts some lube on his fingers, warming it between his thumb and his forefingers. “I missed you,” he says again, like it’s important that Mark believe him, and Mark does, though he’s still not sure why, sometimes. He thinks about that whole trip across the country, and how, while Mark knows that’s he’s changed, and that he loves Eduardo, he doesn’t understand why Eduardo would forgive him. “C’mon, Mark,” Eduardo says. “Spread your legs.”
Mark does. Mark spreads his legs, and Eduardo kneels between them and kisses one of Mark’s cocked knees. His fingers press over the curve of Mark’s thighs and past his balls, and then back between the cheeks of his ass. Eduardo rubs two fingers over his hole, spreading the lube around, and Mark gasps, stretching his legs farther apart.
“You’re a tease,” he says, breathy and without a sharp edge anywhere to be heard.
“So’re you,” Eduardo says, and pushes one finger in, slowly, slowly. Mark swallows past the mild burn, trying not to cant his hips into it. Eduardo presses his cheek to the inside of Mark’s knee and watches his finger sink in. “Did you fuck yourself on your fingers while I was gone and wish they were mine?”
Mark sucks in a breath, and Eduardo slides his finger out and then back in. “Yes,” Mark says, slightly sibilant, and sighs. Eduardo pulls out and pushes two fingers in without warning, and Mark shudders. It’s still a burn, but Eduardo knows how to curl his fingers in just the right way to brush against Mark’s prostate, and then Mark doesn’t care nearly so much at all.
Eduardo adds more lube, and fucks Mark with two fingers until his body isn’t putting up resistance to them anymore, until he’s loose around them. Then Eduardo adds a third finger.
“Fuck,” Mark says, because Eduardo is still brushing against his prostate, and because all he wants right now is to get fucked, and even if Eduardo’s fingers aren’t his cock, they are dexterous. “C’mon,” Mark says, almost a whine, but Eduardo doesn’t listen. He pulls his fingers out and adds even more lube, sliding all three in and out of Mark’s hole until it is as easy as anything. Mark feels opens and slick and loose.
“Ready?” Eduardo asks, nudging one blunt finger against Mark’s prostate, and Mark curses and throws his head back against the bedspread. It’s only when Eduardo pulls his fingers out that Mark realizes he’s reaching for a condom.
“No,” Mark says, “no, no condom. I don’t want it.”
Eduardo sucks in a breath. “What?”
“I got tested while you were away. I’m clean. Are you?” Mark wants to sound commanding and stern, but Eduardo’s breath is ghosting over the inside of his thigh, and he’s surprised by how much he wants this.
“Yes, yeah, I’m – I asked my doctor last time I went to see her –”
“Then no condom. I want to feel you.”
Eduardo’s eyes are all dark, round and wide, when Mark meets his gaze. He could be embarrassed about the candor of his statement, but he isn’t.
“Fuck,” Eduardo says, “okay,” and wraps his lube-slick hand around his own cock, wiping the excess on his own skin. His eyelids flutter, and his mouth opens, and he looks fucking beautiful, but Mark is only relieved when he feels the blunt pressure of the head of Eduardo’s cock pressing against his hole.
He slides in so slow, so careful, and Mark squeezes his eyes shut against the care and concern on Eduardo’s face. It feels – fucking weird, hot and hard, skin on skin, but kind of amazing at the same time. Nothing between them but sweat and lube.
Eduardo is too gentle; Mark almost can’t stand it. He fists his hands into the sheets and spreads his legs wider, wanton, the heel of one foot pressing against Eduardo’s ass.
When Eduardo is finally seated inside him, Mark manages to open his eyes. Eduardo is staring down at him.
“Move,” Mark says, almost a command, almost a plea, but Eduardo shakes his head.
“Not yet,” he says. “I – ah. You’re so –”
Eduardo’s breath is panting out of him, and he’s sweating. Mark’s not sure he’s ever looked so desperate, hips moving in tiny, miniscule thrusts, enough to make Mark want more, but not enough to satisfy him at all.
“Eduardo,” he says. “Please.” He touches all of the skin he can reach, needing something, anything, else, and then Eduardo is pulling out and thrusting back in. He’s warm and slick, plunging into Mark’s body, speeding up and finding a hard, punishing rhythm. Mark can feel every spurt of precome, every twitch of Eduardo’s cock. He rides it out, shifting his hips into each thrust, helpless, needy noises bubbling up in his throat. Eduardo’s cock nudges Mark’s prostate with every thrust, and Mark can only clutch at Eduardo with his fingers, with his thighs and his feet, and try to touch him everywhere possible. They are so close, closer than they’ve ever been, and Mark hadn’t let himself think about how much he wanted this. To feel Eduardo’s cock inside him.
Eduardo leans over Mark, hair falling into his face in sweaty clumps, cheeks flushed, brow pulled down in concentration, and Mark wants to kiss him, but he can’t manage the coordination, not when Eduardo is thrusting into him hard enough that he’s going to feel it all day tomorrow, not when the muscles in his stomach and thighs are trembling with use and with the pleasure throbbing through his body.
“Eduardo,” Mark says, again, more of a gasp than anything else, and he’s not expecting it when he comes. Eduardo hasn’t even touched his cock, throbbing between them, and that’s never fucking happened before. Mark clenches around Eduardo, riding out the pulses of his orgasm, come splattering on their stomachs and Mark’s thighs. Eduardo makes a choking noise, rhythm shattering for a moment, and then he’s picking up force. He’s still hitting Mark’s prostate with every thrust, and the pleasure is too much, almost pain. Mark throws his head back, arching up into it, the heels of both feet pressing, hard, into the small of Eduardo’s back.
“C’mon, Wardo,” Mark says. “Wardo, Wardo, I – ah.” He can feel the way Eduardo’s rhythm starts to become erratic, mouth open and gasping. Eduardo makes a needy, whimpering sort of noise, pounding into Mark hard enough to make Mark groan, and then he’s coming. Wet and hot and thick inside Mark’s body, pulses of it. It’s like nothing Mark has ever felt, weird and good. Eduardo thrusts through his orgasm, each push easier and slicker than the last. Mark feels stretched open, full, and when Eduardo collapses on top of him, he just kisses Eduardo on the mouth, almost chaste. They are sweaty everywhere they are touching, and Mark’s not sure he wants Eduardo to pull out, yet. It’s all over too quickly.
“I love you,” Mark says, when he can speak again, his muscles loose and relaxed. Eduardo stares down at him and smiles.
“You love me,” he says, and Mark wonders when he’s going to stop being surprised. Mark loves him. It’s obvious.
He’s just going to have to keep saying it.
They lay there, twined up together, until they catch their breath. Mark pushes his nose into the crook of Eduardo’s neck, smelling his skin and breathing in deep. Eduardo huffs a laugh, and pulls out, rolling off of Mark’s body. Mark makes an involuntary noise of loss, but Eduardo shushes him, kissing him on the mouth and petting his hands over Mark’s shoulders and collarbones and chest.
Mark can feel Eduardo’s come leaking out of him, and it’s probably one of the oddest things he’s ever experienced. He props himself up on one elbow, ignoring the protest of the muscles in his back and arms, and slides a hand down between his legs. Eduardo sits back and watches him, eyes rapt on Mark’s wandering hand, which is slipping between the cheeks of his ass, until he can rub at the come dripping out of his hole. Mark sucks his lower lip into his mouth, and wonders what it is about Eduardo coming inside him that is so fucking sexy.
“Jesus Christ, Mark,” Eduardo says, and then leans in. He trails his fingers down Mark’s arm, touching his wrist, the palm of his hand. Then he pushes two fingers past Mark’s, and into Mark’s hole, which is still slick and open. His fingers slide in easily, meeting no resistance from Mark’s body, and Mark’s breath catches in his throat. Eduardo sinks his fingers in, and meets Mark’s eyes. His pupils are blown wide open. “That’s my come sliding out of you,” Eduardo says, with something akin to wonder. Then he crooks his fingers up and brushes against Mark’s prostate. Mark’s whole body spasms, muscles clenching weakly around Eduardo’s fingers, but Eduardo doesn’t stop. He just keeps gently pushing into Mark.
Mark tugs Eduardo down to him with a hand on the back of his neck. He kisses him, tongue sliding easily past Eduardo’s lips, and he’s sated and filthy and he never wants to leave this bed, not even for Facebook.
“Welcome home,” Mark says, when he pulls away. Eduardo’s fingers are still inside him, and soon they’ll either fuck again, or take a shower, or sleep. Mark doesn’t really care which.
Eduardo laughs, and kisses him. Mark tries to imagine being happier, and he can’t. He can’t.