{ ♫ siri ♫ } (thisissirius) wrote,
{ ♫ siri ♫ }

#393; (#35) (fic) the social network; the if statement evaluated to be true (adult)

.the if statement evaluated to be true
[the social network. eduardo saverin/mark zuckerberg. adult.. 1,447 words.]
mark writes lines of code on eduardo's skin, not realising it's going to have quite the effect it does.
disclaimer; i am writing about mark zuckerberg and eduardo saverin (and other characters) as presented in the movie the social network. this is no way about the real people. also; i do not own the social network. this is for love and not profit.
notes; written for _calex_ as part of the five acts meme for the kink: writing on someone's skin.

.the if statement evaluated to be true

Mark’s still getting used to sleeping with Eduardo again. His bed’s been too big and too empty for years and he’s taken to sleeping anywhere else, the office or the couch, because he can’t stand knowing what should be there and isn’t. He knows it would be better if there was a familiar scent in the room but he’s not at Harvard anymore and he knows that Eduardo’s presence at the Palo Alto house was a one time thing, not long enough to leave anything material behind, let alone a scent. It’s not as weird as it should be to stretch out and touch skin. To curl into Eduardo’s side and breathe in everything familiar. To rest his forehead against Eduardo’s shoulder and fall asleep.

He always wakes first, makes sure to watch Eduardo for a little while and relearn the way he looks in sleep. How his face is too soft, free of the curl of worry and disappointment and pain he always seems to carry around because of Mark and his father and everything else that Eduardo never talks about. Mark wishes he could smooth it out sometimes, draw his thumb across the skin of Eduardo’s forehead and make him smile, that small curl of lips that means he’s happy just being here with Mark.

He contemplates leaning down to kiss Eduardo but Eduardo is moving before he can make a decision either way, shifting awake until he’s grinning at Mark and whispering against his mouth.


Mark kisses back and then shifts, drawing the covers with him as he rocks on his heels. Eduardo stretches, arms over his head and body curling against the sheets, his leg shifting against Mark’s thigh. He tilts his head, taking in the sight of Eduardo’s naked body in ways he hasn’t let himself in years. He thinks he could write Eduardo into code and it would be beautiful, efficient and create results much better than Facebook ever has the potential to be.

There’s a sharpie on the bedside table from whatever Eduardo was working on last night.

Mark stares at Eduardo as he grins, eyes crinkling in the corners and his face relaxed and happy. It feels something close to right again and it’s enough to make him shift on the bed, reach for the sharpie and pop the cap as he smooths down the skin of Eduardo’s thigh.

“What are you doing?” Eduardo’s voice is soft but he’s not angry or making a move to stop Mark.

Ignoring the question, Mark splays his fingers against Eduardo’s hip and starts to write on the soft bronze skin beneath his hands.

$mark_&_eduardo = us;

He blinks and looks back up at Eduardo who’s breathing hard, fingers curling against the sheets. Mark’s not sure what to say; whether to comment on the flush rising up Eduardo’s body from his stomach to his face or not. It’s startling to realise that he has this much effect on somebody else. He keeps the pen moving, strokes of the sharpie gliding over the planes of Eduardo’s leg and thigh until the code is curling around his body like a tattoo. It’s intoxicating to watch Eduardo react, the harsh breaths hitching the further Mark moves the sharpie, the way his fingers furl and unfurl against the sheets and the hooded look he’s giving Mark; flushed and ready.

Mark swallows thickly because this is still new enough that he’s scared of getting something wrong or screwing it up in a way that Eduardo never wants to speak to him. Again. He thinks about dropping the sharpie but Eduardo makes a broken sound when he tries to put it down, not quite a whimper but not quite a moan either. A protestation. Mark blinks but he’s still got the sharpie in his fingers and he thinks this I can do.

He shifts on the bed a little because he still knows how to take the initiative. He’s not as submissive as people think he is and so it’s easy to slide up Eduardo’s body, straddle his legs until he’s sure he’s smudging the code littering Eduardo’s thigh. He reaches up with a hand to touch Eduardo’s face, fingertips light against the clenched jaw because he’s not sure what he’s doing and he doesn’t want Eduardo to think he’s a girl but he also wants Eduardo to know that he ca- that he wants this, too.

Eduardo makes a soft noise and says, “Mark,” like his name is the best thing in the world and Mark pulls his hand back, planting it on Eduardo’s chest. He lifts the sharpie to the skin above Eduardo’s heart and he doesn’t want to think too hard about why he’s doing this, why he’s choosing this place because it still hurts, somewhere, that he let this go and that he didn’t fight for this and he didn’t-


He drags the sharpie into more code, into swirls of black against tanned skin and he watches it stretch into something, even if he’s not sure what he’s trying to say with it. It’s the sort of code that never makes sense to a computer but makes perfect sense to Mark and perfect sense to Eduardo when he bothers to try and understand it.

$mark_&_eduardo = now;

He can feel Eduardo half-hard against his stomach and he’s never been aware that things like this turn someone on but he can only imagine what the drag of the pen must feel like, the nib barely brushing the skin as Mark moves it, the way it drifts over Eduardo’s skin into places that Mark rarely touches. It’s like paying homage to Eduardo’s body with a pen and in such a way that Mark doesn’t have to express himself with kisses or touches and make it awkward like he’s capable of sometimes. It means that he can watch the hitch of Eduardo’s breath and the curl of his dick against Mark’s leg and the way his face twitches when Mark drags the pen across sensitive skin.

Mark can’t resist; he leans down and pushes the sharpie out of the way, curling his free hand against Eduardo’s jaw and kissing him. It’s hot and messy and awkward but Eduardo shifts into his grip, pushing back against his mouth, deepening the kiss into something else until there’s the slide of tongue against lips and teeth. Mark abandons the sharpie completely, using his free hand to press against Eduardo’s erection. Eduardo’s hips jerk and he makes a soft moan that turns into a growl as his hands twist into Mark’s hair, holding him in place.

They break for breath but it’s only enough to keep them going before they’re back in, kisses slow and drawn out. Mark can’t remember making out like this before, desperation, moans and growls, the twist of his wrist and the buck of Eduardo’s hips. It’s almost overwhelming and he shifts his own body until he can get friction against Eduardo’s leg, hips jerking almost of their own accord. The pads of Eduardo’s fingers are moving against his scalp and it’s too good, he’s over-sensitive and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold on.

“Mark,” Eduardo says and his voice is low and raspy, he’s wrecked and Mark knows he can’t be much better. He grunts, jerks his hand a few more times, twists his wrist and Eduardo is gasping, hips pushing up against Mark’s hand and then he’s coming, Mark’s name a mantra between them. He takes one look at Eduardo’s face, hair mussed and eyes dark and hooded and all it takes is the scratch of Eduardo’s fingers in his hair, jerking against his scalp as he rides his orgasm and Mark groans, long and drawn out and curling into something like Eduardo’s name as he comes.

Eduardo shifts first, rolling them over until Mark’s pressed against the sheets instead of sprawled against his body. He touches Mark’s mouth and Mark blinks softly, his own fingers resting on the curve of Eduardo’s hip. He looks down at the black smudges littering Eduardo’s body and he smiles softly. There’s still enough of the code not ruined by their actions and it’s enough that when Eduardo looks down, his face softens and there’s that soft smile again, the ones he keeps just for Mark.

“Mark,” he says, like it’s the only word he’s capable of saying.

Mark kisses him again, just because he can.

if ( $mark_&_eduardo == us ) {
echo "i’m sorry";
} else {
echo “i love you";

“So that you can have both.” Mark pulls back enough to say. “I mean it.”

“I know,” Eduardo says, smiling. “I don’t need to code to say it back.”

Mark frowns because he doesn’t either, he can easily say it out loud if he wants to but before he can, Eduardo’s face is moving until his lips are resting by Mark’s ear. His voice is low and deliberate.

“I love you, too.”

.the end
Tags: (fic) lawyer up asshole, (fic) mine, (pairing) eduardo&mark
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