The Social Network: the kink meme!

It's Complicated: But sexy!


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[PART ONE] CLOSED;; welcome!
zuckonitkinkeme wrote in tsn_kinkmeme
THE SOCIAL NETWORK KINK MEME



ASK THE MODS * FAQ * DISCUSSION * RESEARCH * FILL LIST * PART ONE * PART ONE (OVERFLOW)



what is a kink meme? it pretty much gives itself away; you request a pairing and a prompt/kink anonymously, and someone else (or several someone elses for that matter) will be able to fill that request- also anonymously. it's a great way to get fic, a nice way to find fic to write and if you're embarrassed to post porn, like me!

(note that while this is called a kink meme, the rules are pretty lax. nonexplicit fic is also allowed, though pure gen is generally discouraged.

however. i'll be pretty lax about that as well, so long as an emphasis is placed on either a) kinky stuff or b) some form of character relationship, even non sexual/romantic. please, bear in mind this is a kink meme first and foremost, okay? ;)




GENERAL RULES;


♥ post requests and responses in the comments to this post.
♥ be respectful.
♥ both a pairing/character AND a prompt/kink must be posted.
♥ one pairing/prompt per comment please.
♥ you are encouraged to try and write a prompt for every request you make.
♥ we are slash, femslash, het, three-and-moresomes etc. friendly. (we are even incest friendly what with some of our characters being twins and all...)
♥ no pairing bashing, OK? no need to wank over ships.
♥ long and short fics welcome. multiple responses encouraged!
♥ please try to refrain from saying 'seconded!' as much as possible.
♥ on RPF: Please disclaim that it is RPF, a work of fiction and in no way related to the actual actors/persons/etc. (i wouldn't even try and discourage RPF from this meme ;))
WARN FOR COMMON TRIGGERS, PLEASE




FORMAT OF PROMPTS;


♥ alphabetize pairings/threesomes/moresomes. (e.g. Eduardo/Mark/Sean etc.)
♥ put [RPF] before RPF prompts. (e.g. [RPF] Andrew/Jesse)
♥ for crossover prompts: "[Crossover], The Social Network Character(s)/Other Character(s), [Fandom]" (e.g. [Crossover], Eduardo/Columbus, [Zombieland])
♥ no "!" in pairings, only in descriptions. (e.g. Eduardo/Mark, FacebookCreator!Eduardo, CFO!Mark)
♥ anyone, everyone, no one? Use "Other." (e.g. Sean/Other)
♥ put [GEN] before GEN prompts.




FILLS;


♥ please don't embed. link to images/videos.
♥ no locked material. this includes communities, even if membership is open.
♥ fills can be posted anonymously or not.
♥ fills can be anything: fic, art, vid, fanmix, podfic, etc.
♥ all prompts are open to fills at all times, even if they have been filled in the past or are being currently filled by someone else. multiple fills are positively encouraged; if something appeals to you then do not be put off creating a new fill by the existence of a prior one.






[ARCHIVING]

[DELICIOUS]

[UNFILLED REQUESTS]

[FILLED REQUESTS]]

[FLAT VIEW]



have fun!

THERE WILL BE UNMARKED SPOILERS. enter at your own risk! :D
Tags:

  • 1

Eduardo/Mark, woke up married fic

(Anonymous)
Eduardo & Mark have to attend some kind of shareholder's/young-and-a-billionaire's meeting in Vegas/Vermont/Illinois. One thing leads to another and they WAKE UP MARRIED. A quicky divorce/annulment would be easy if not for the fact that Mark drunkenly changed his facebook status to MARRIED TO EDUARDO SAVERIN.

Dustin's typos are intentional!


Eduardo wakes up to the sound of his phone beeping somewhere in his room. His head feels like it's been stuffed with smelly rags and he can taste his own breath - foul. He rolls over to grab his cell phone and runs into someone.

He blinks and opens his eyes all the way. Next to him, Mark lets out a little snuffling sound and turns over to press his face into Eduardo's shoulder.

"What?" Eduardo says out loud. As Eduardo lies there, frozen with shock, Mark throws an arm over Eduardo's waist. Mark is warm and kind of oddly peaceful-looking in sleep.

Eduardo's phone beeps again. The sound is like a knife being driven in through Eduardo's ear. Eduardo carefully disentangles himself from Mark, though he remembers from college that when Mark sleeps like the dead (when he sleeps at all). Mark, he sees, is not wearing a shirt. Eduardo is not wearing a shirt either.

Eduardo gets out of bed and realizes that they must be in Mark's room. It's seriously a huge room - Mark must have gotten the best suite in the hotel. Their clothes are strewn all over the floor like pieces of very expensive litter. Eduardo locates his jacket from the night before (draped over the back of an armchair) and rummages in the inside pocket for his phone. He pulls it out and sees, 123 Missed Messages

"What?" he repeats, now really confused. He opens up his messages and scrolls to the bottom where there are like fifteen from Dustin alone.

Wardo did you get back tot he hotel alright

Omg sean just did the stpidt thin

Wardooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Pls dont kill mark

Hes th eone that pays me

Wardo srsly if u kill im i willbe made.

I meant mad.

There are a few more, but the ones from around two and three that morning are even more incomprehensible. Eduardo ignores them and moves on to Chris's texts.

How dare you leave me with Dustin

He keeps singing spice girls

If I kill him no court will ever convict

No seriously Wardo don't kill Mark

Wardo?


Eduardo rubs his face and sinks down onto the arm chair. The bar had been Dustin's idea - "We're in Vegas!" he'd pointed out. "We have to get wasted!" - but he hadn't told Eduardo that Mark was coming. (Really, Eduardo should have realized since the reason they were in Vegas was for some bullshit meeting with new investors.) Anyway.

Eduardo remembers drinking a lot and then arguing with Mark outside for a while. How they got from there to sprawled out on Mark's bed is still a mystery.

He checks the next few messages. They're from one of his cousins who he rarely, if ever, talks to.

Eduardo congrats!!!!!!!

Mom says congrats too!!!!!!!

Why weren't we invited????

OMG DID YOU ELOPE

Eduardo drops his phone, his fingers suddenly gone numb. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he gets up and goes back over to the bed. Sitting on the beside table are two gold wedding bands. Eduardo sinks down on the edge of the bed and says, "Oh, fuck."

Re: FILL, 1/? (Anonymous) Expand
Eduardo wonders if this is what having a heart attack feels like. His hands do feel kind of numb and he's kind of hyperventilating a little. He picks up one of the rings shaking hands and tries sliding it onto his left ring finger. It fits perfectly.

Eduardo gets up and returns to the chair to pick up his phone. He looks through the notifications again and sees that five are from his mother. He shudders but opens the first one anyway.

Eduardo auntie dolores said you got married. I know this is not true because you would have told me.

Eduardo are you ignoring me.

Eduardo please answer me

Eduardo do not make me angry

Is she jewish at least


The remaining texts are from a variety of people - old friends, various family members, and even one from Christy. He deletes that one without reading it.

He puts his pants and shirt back on, feeling awkwardly exposed. He can't find his tie, though he's pretty sure he had been wearing one the night before. Once he feels less horribly naked, he goes to the bed and shakes Mark.

"Mark," he says. Mark doesn't even so much as twitch. "Mark, you asshole, wake up."

Mark opens his eyes and says thickly, "Wardo?"

"You lost the right to call me that five years ago, Mark, but that's not really the point right now. Mark." Eduardo shoves his left hand into Mark's face. Mark's eyes focus on it and he frowns.

"When did you get married?" he asks. If Eduardo didn't know better, he'd say Mark sounds almost betrayed.

"Last night, apparently!" Eduardo leans over and grabs the other ring. "To you!"

Mark takes the ring and looks at it. "We got married?" Eduardo stares in disbelief as Mark slides the ring onto his hand and holds it up. "Maybe we just bought rings as a joke."

"I received over a hundred text messages last night from people who all seem to be under the impression that we have joined in holy matrimony. Which is another thing!" Eduardo puts his hands on his hips. "How do you think they found out?"

Mark's eyes travel across the room and land on the laptop sitting on the desk. "I may have an idea," he says.

Eduardo puts it together and has to step back so that he doesn't hit Mark. Mark's phone rings a moment later.

Mark puts it on speakerphone and says, "Hello?"

"Mark, it's Jamie," says a female voice on the other end. "I thought you should know that the site is about to crash."

Mark sits bolt upright and says, "What? Why?" Eduardo snorts and folds his arms across his chest.

"Are you seriously asking that question, Mark? Everyone with an internet connection has been trying to access your profile since AP reported your shotgun marriage this morning."

"They what?" demands Eduardo, forgetting himself.

"Is that the missus? Mr. Saverin, you probably don't want to go outside today," says Jamie. Eduardo decides he hates her.

"Well," Mark says. "This complicates things."

Re: FILL 2/? (Anonymous) Expand
Eduardo sits down in front of the laptop and wakes it up. Mark's Facebook page is open and he has over a thousand notifications.

"Holy shit," Eduardo says. He scrolls down a little and sees, Mark Zuckerberg is now married to Eduardo Saverin. "Holy shit," he repeats.

"What?"

"You have more than a thousand notifications because we listed ourselves as married last night." Eduardo rubs his face and tries not to panic. "My father is going to have a fit."

"Why? You're married to one of the richest men in the United States," Mark says.

Eduardo looks at him. Mark stares back. He's still not wearing a shirt. It's distracting.

"Could you put a shirt on?" Eduardo asks. "We need to talk about this and I can't if you're shirtless."

"All right," Mark says. He gets out of bed and picks up his crumpled white button-down shirt. He puts it on and asks, "Happy?"

"Ecstatic." Eduardo logs into his email and sends a quick message to his assistant, telling her not to say anything to anyone. "We need to get an annulment or a divorce or something."

"Do you think that would be the best idea?" Mark asks.

Eduardo's head jerks up and he stares at Mark in utter incomprehension. "Excuse me?"

"Do you really want it to look like what it is?" Mark shuffles over to his suitcase and pulls out one of his ubiquitous hoodies. "We have investors, Eduardo."

"And?"

Mark makes a frustrated noise. "Wardo, while my reputation will probably not be unduly injured by this even - indeed, given the fact that I seem to mostly be seen as a robotic, soulless tech geek, this could only help me - you have the reputation of being responsible and well-balanced."

"Well, what do you think we should do?" demands Eduardo.

"I think we should call Chris," says Mark.



Chris, when he arrives, looks hungover to fuck. "Hi," he says to Mark and then he sees Eduardo. "Um?"

"Yeah," Eduardo says. "We have a lot to talk about."

Chris rubs his face and says, "Okay. Great. Should Dustin be here? Is this something he should know?"

"No," Eduardo says before Mark can open his mouth.

"Gee, Eduardo, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were embarrassed by me," says Mark.

Chris holds up his hands. "Okay, obviously you didn't kill Mark last night, which was our first theory, but something happened. What, did you guys get into a fight? Neither of you have visible bruises."

"We got married," Mark says bluntly.

Chris takes a step back, looking flabbergasted. "I think I need to sit down for this," he says.

Re: FIC: 3/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FIC: 3/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FIC: 3/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FIC: 3/? (Anonymous) Expand
Thank you so much for your kind words and praise! I deeply appreciate it.


Chris staggers to the sofa and collapses on it. He props his elbows on his knees and drops his head into his hands. Eduardo fiddles with the place where his shirt's bottom button should be. He desperately wants coffee.

Mark picks up the laptop and sets it down in front of Chris. "I don't know if we actually did or if we decided to pull some sort of elaborate prank last night, but the point is that the damage is done."

Chris looks up, seeming reluctant, and looks at the screen. Then he groans and says, "Mark, how many people know?"

"According to Jamie, AP ran something on it earlier this morning," Mark says. Chris's normally pleasant face contorts with rage and he clenches his fists.

"Goddammit, Mark!" he shouts. "And you!" He turns to point an accusing finger at Eduardo. "You're supposed to be responsible! How could you let this happen?"

"In his defense," Mark says, "he was very, very drunk."

Eduardo gives Mark a poisonous look. "Thank you, Mark," he says dryly. "You weren't much better off."

"Okay," Chris says. "We have to go through this in a logical fashion. We need to figure out what, exactly, you geniuses decided to do last night. We need to find out whether it was a joke or a real wedding. If it's fake, we'll say that we were hacked. If it's real, we need to issue a statement so this doesn't look like a Britney Spears wedding."

Eduardo opens his mouth to defend Britney, but Chris glares at him so hard that Eduardo thinks the better of it.

"And then," Chris says, an evil glint in his eye, "the two of you are going to do the rounds. Ellen, Leno, whoever will take you. We will come up with a story and you will stick with it."

"I take it divorce is off the table," Mark says. Eduardo feels a flash of irritation. If anyone should be eager to get the fuck out of this 'relationship,' it should be Eduardo. What does Mark have to complain about? Eduardo is a fucking catch.

"Of course it's off the table!" Chris shouts. Eduardo feels guilty; they've broken the most stable one of all of them. "This is bad enough as it is without the two of you getting a hurried and furtive divorce! You will be the secret love that dare not speak its name and you will be convincing. Am I clear?"

"Yes," Eduardo says and they both turn to look at Mark.

Mark stares at them in confusion and then says, "Yes."

"Great," Chris says. "Now let's see if we can find a marriage certificate somewhere."

The three of them disperse to opposite corners of the room. Eduardo slides his hand under the sofa, hoping and praying he doesn't find anything. He's still half-hoping it's some kind of elaborate joke (he wouldn't put it past Dustin to do something equally stupid and insane, though he's not sure that Dustin would have had the capacity to do anything last night).

Then, to his great horror, his fingers brush up against what feels like a piece of paper. He pinches the corner between his thumb and forefinger and withdraws it.

It reads, Certificate of Marriage, and at the bottom are his and Mark's signatures.

Edited at 2010-12-19 02:14 am (UTC)

Re: FILL 4/? (Anonymous) Expand
"Hey, guys?" Eduardo says. He's impressed by how steady his voice is. "I found it."

Chris takes it and reads, "A Little White Chapel's Tunnel of Vows." He looks up. "You guys drove last night?"

"That's what you're choosing to focus on?" demands Eduardo, throwing his hands in the year. "Seriously?"

"I think we may have called for a car service," Mark says. He hands Chris a business card. Chris looks at it and purses his lips.

"I'll call them and find your driver. Get dressed. One of you need to tell Dustin what's going on before he accidentally answers his phone and says something stupid to a reporter." Chris pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and moves into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

"I'll do it," Eduardo says immediately. He wants nothing more than to get out of Mark's room and the unfortunate reminders of the night before. He checks his pockets for his key card, then leaves Mark standing in the middle of the room, marriage certificate in hand.

He returns to his room on the next floor down and throws himself onto his bed. He presses his face into his pillow and screams until he runs out of breath.

He showers and changes clothes before reemerging to find Dustin. A knock on Dustin's door yields no results, but when Eduardo hesitantly traipses down to the hotel's dining room, he finds Dustin drinking a cup of coffee and staring morosely at a plate of eggs and toast.

"Hi," Eduardo says, sitting down across from him. "Not hungry?"

"Oh, I'm hungry," Dustin says. "It's just that the thought of food makes me want to vomit." He takes a deep gulp of coffee and pushes the plate away from him. "What's going on?"

"Dustin, I have some news," Eduardo says. "Mark and I made a grievous error last night."

Dustin nods. "Yeah, you got hitched." Eduardo's jaw drops and Dustin says, "Dude, they've been running the story on CNN like nonstop." He gestures to the plasma screen TV on the far wall. "Look, here it is again." Eduardo turns to look.

On the screen is a big, cheesy graphic that reads, Facebook Romance. It dissolves away to reveal a perky blonde anchor with a huge smile. "Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg shocked the world last night when he announced his marriage to former best friend Eduardo Saverin. The two of them made the announcement over the social network site by changing their relationship status and uploading a photo of them with their certificate of marriage."

"Oh crap," Eduardo says.

The camera shifts over to a male anchor, who says, "Eduardo Saverin was Mark Zuckerberg's best friend prior to the creation of Facebook. Later, Saverin sued Zuckerberg for more than half a million dollars when Saverin's share in the company was diluted down. It seems that the two of them got past their differences and rekindled their affection for one another. There has been no official statement from the Facebook management, but one employee said that they were all wishing Mr. Zuckerberg and Mr. Saverin happiness in their new union."

"Was that one employee you?" Eduardo asks Dustin suspiciously.

"God no," Dustin says with a shudder. "They called, but I was too hungover to understand what they were asking and I hung up." He raises his eyebrows. "So. How is Mark in bed?"

Eduardo stares at him for a long moment. "I'm going to pretend you didn't ask me that just now," he says finally. "And I'm not going to ask why you want to know, either." He flags down a passing waiter and says, "Coffee, please. And maybe a gun so I can speed the inevitable along."

"Sure thing, sir," the waiter says cheerily. "Would you like decaf or regular?"

Re: FILL 5/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FILL 5/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FILL 5/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FILL 5/? (Anonymous) Expand
The coffee comes quickly, which Eduardo is eternally grateful for, and he downs his cup almost in one gulp. Dustin watches him sympathetically, resting his head on his hand.

"Bad hangover, right?" he says. "Last night was not good, man."

"Why, what did you do?" demands Eduardo. "Is it worse than what I did?"

"Believe me, I'm not trying to compete," Dustin protests, raising his hands. "You automatically win for worst night ever, but all I know is that I woke up with glitter in places glitter should never be."

"That sounds like a good night," says Eduardo.

Dustin smirks a little, then pushes his plate of food closer to Eduardo. The two of them pick at it until Dustin looks up and says, "Shit. Heads up, Wardo, they've gotten around to showing the photo from last night."

"Can they even do that?" demands Eduardo, turning around to look. Sure enough, plastered across the screen is a picture of him and Mark. Mark is holding the marriage certificate and smiling slightly. Eduardo is kissing Mark's cheek. His arm is around Mark's waist. He looks happy. "How are they even allowed to do this?"

"If some blog pulled it off first, I think they can claim that was their source and that they didn't violate Facebook rules or anything," Dustin says. "Do you want to get out of here? People are starting to stare."

He's right, unfortunately; people in the dining room have started to swivel their heads towards Eduardo, their eyes wide.

"Yeah, I need to bring you up to Chris anyway," Eduardo says and he gets up, throwing down some money on the table for the waiter.

--

When they get back up to Mark's room, Chris is watching the television with a scowl. "This is a mess," he tells Eduardo. "Mark doesn't seem to care, though." He glares at Mark.

"People like to say I'm a robot. Getting married while drunk in Vegas proves that I'm at least partly human," Mark says. He's typing on his laptop like a madman, but he looks up at Eduardo and smiles slightly. "Hi."

"Hi," mutters Eduardo.

"Jeez, get a room, you two," says Dustin cheerily. "So what's the plan?"

"We lie low until we're back in Palo Alto and then we make a statement," Chris says. "After that, we will discuss exactly what plans are to be made, but for now, Wardo? You are staying in the United States and you are going to pretend to be happily married to Mark."

Eduardo crosses his arms. "I'm going to need to get my stuff from Singapore."

"We can send people," Mark says. "We can do that."

Eduardo points at Mark. "We will have separate rooms."

"That's fine," Mark says. "My house has seven bedrooms. I only use two."

Eduardo rolls his eyes and sinks down on the sofa. "Should we call our parents?"

"You haven't called your parents yet?" Dustin asks.

"I've called my parents," Mark says. He looks up at Eduardo with that weird betrayed look again.

Dustin ignores Mark. "Wardo! Your mom's probably planning a new wedding, with you dressed in white and Mark in what he thinks is formal wear."

"Hey," Mark says. "I own suits."

"That your assistant bought for you," Dustin says. "Eduardo. Your mom wants grandbabies so much that she has started calling me and asking if I've met a nice Jewish girl yet."

Eduardo sighs and gets up. He excuses himself to the bathroom, where he pulls out his cellphone and dials his mother's number. She picks up after one and a half rings with, "Eduardo, what is it that they are saying on the news? You and that Mark boy have gotten married? I thought you were not speaking to each other!"

"Mom," Eduardo says, "it's a long story, but yes, Mark and I got married."

There's a long, pregnant silence on the other end. Then, "He is Jewish, yes?" she asks suspiciously.

"Yes, Mom, Mark is Jewish," Eduardo sighs.

"You better adopt some babies because you have robbed me of a daughter-in-law to be horrible to," says his mom, sniffing slightly. "I want babies, Eduardo."

"I know, Mom," Eduardo says. "Tell Father the news."

"Oh, he already knows. He is so proud, his son marrying a billionaire, even if it is a boy." Eduardo can practically hear his mom rolling her eyes. "Your father, so stupid sometimes. He does not ask important questions like, why did they get married? Is his son happy? Are you happy?"

Eduardo blinks and then lies through his teeth. "Yes, Mom, I'm happy."

"Good," she says. "I would hate to have to kill my son-in-law while you are still on your honeymoon."

"Thanks, Mom," Eduardo says. "Bye, Mom."

"I get the hint!" she says. "Be good, now, and tell that boy I want grandbabies!"

Re: FILL 6b/? (Anonymous) Expand
There's a light knock at the door into the bathroom and Dustin calls, "Wardo, everything all right?"

"Yes. You can come in." Eduardo sits on the edge of the bathtub and rubs his face with his hands. Dustin comes in a little cautiously.

"How'd she take it?" he asks.

"She's glad he's Jewish," Eduardo says. "That seems to be her only concern." He tilts his head a little and squints at Dustin. "Why aren't you freaking out more?"

Dustin shrugs. "I kind of always worked on the assumption that the two of you might as well be married anyway. I mean, it meant that I was the child tragically left behind during the divorce, but you two were, like, joined at the hip."

"So you're saying that this was inevitable," Eduardo says, pointing at the wedding ring on his finger.

"I'm saying that it's a little surprising now, but that it wouldn't have been five years ago," Dustin says. "I mean, I'm also pretty hungover and possibly still slightly drunk, so that could have something to do with it, too."

"I think I'm still missing something - did you think that we were dating back at Harvard?"

"Oh, no. I knew you weren't dating." Dustin looks thoughtful. "I'm pretty sure most other people thought you were, though."

"Jesus." Eduardo drops his head into his hands again and pulls at his hair. "And now, for some God-forsaken reason, I've married the asshole."

"Rather you than me," Dustin says cheerfully. "Now buck up, Chris wants to talk strategy." Dustin waves Eduardo off the edge of the bathtub and herds him back out into the room. Mark has, miraculously, put his computer away and is watching Chris avidly.

"Good, Wardo," Chris says distractedly. He's look at his iPhone, flicking through it frantically. "I've tentatively confirmed talks on Oprah and Ellen - Oprah because she likes Mark now and Ellen because she's, well, gay-friendly. We'll be giving a statement once we get to Palo Alto. I've moved up our flight to tonight - it's only the difference of a few hours."

"How are we going to play this?" asks Mark. He sneaks a glance over at Eduardo. Eduardo pretends not to notice.

"We're going to tell everyone that the two of you reconciled about two years ago and have been dating for a year. This marriage, while not entirely planned, has been a long time coming," says Chris. "Do you think you can handle that?"

"I can handle that," Mark says.

"I can deal," Eduardo mutters, leaning back. Dustin perches on the armrest of the couch, looking eager. "What do we have to do?"

"I've gotten you adjoining seats on the flight back. For now until you have finished making the press circuit, the two of you will make public appearances - dinner, movies, date nights. And you will pretend that you don't hate each other." Chris glares at them.

"I don't have anyone, least of all Wardo," Mark says. They all turn to stare at him. "What?"

"That's great, Mark," Chris says. "But it's not really the point. I don't actually care how you two feel about each other, I'm more concerned with how people think you feel about each other."

"You don't care? I care." Dustin pats Eduardo's shoulder. "I am a loving and open person and I want you to know that I am pulling for you crazy kids."

"Shut up, Dustin," Chris and Eduardo say in unison and Mark says, "I appreciate your support, Dustin."

Edited at 2010-12-24 08:45 am (UTC)

Re: FILL 7/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FILL 7/? (Anonymous) Expand
For those of you who celebrate, I hope you had a great Christmas!

Eduardo returns to his room to pack and takes as long as he thinks he can get away with before returning to Mark's room. Mark, Chris, and Dustin have set up camp in the middle of the floor, which looks like a tentacle monster with the number of cables running around.

"What's going on?" Eduardo asks, setting his bags by the door and taking a seat on the couch. He peeks at Mark's screen and sees the familiar sight of a command line box and a web browser with Facebook open in it.

"Stabilizing the site," Mark says brusquely. "I have limited the number of people who can comment on both of our profiles."

"And you didn't think to ask first?" Eduardo asks, crossing his arms.

Mark looks up, confused. "Did you want a thousand people commenting on your relationship status?"

"My profile is already set to private, Mark, I wasn't that worried. Jesus, do you not get why you should have asked first?" Eduardo runs a hand through his hair. "If we're going to be married, you're going to have to actually treat me like an equal."

"So now we're married? It's not just an an accident or a fake?"

"It is an accident and it is a fake, but we have to live with it, Mark, and if I have to live with you, you're going to have to stop keeping everything to yourself." Eduardo sees Dustin peeking at them with a worried expression and softens his voice. "Just - talk to me first, Mark."

Mark stares at him for a long moment, then nods shortly. "Yes. I will try."

"Well," Chris says loudly, "I am currently fielding questions from at least twenty different news groups, including the San Francisco Chronicle and The Advocate, both of which want to know about your stance on gay rights."

"And what are you telling them?" Eduardo asks.

"I am telling them that we will be fielding all questions tonight, but we will have to discuss magazine interviews. I don't doubt they will want you on the cover." Chris is typing furiously, his eyebrows drawn sharply together.

"Excellent. I guess there's nothing I can do," Eduardo says. He leans back and closes his eyes. A moment later, he feels a slight weight and warmth against his legs. He opens his eyes, startled, and sees that Mark has leaned back to use his shins as a backrest. Eduardo considers saying something, then decides against it.

He falls asleep at some point and is woken by Mark shaking his shoulder and saying, "Wardo. Wardo, we have to catch our flight."

Eduardo rubs his face and straightens up. Mark withdraws and sticks his hands back in his hoodie, hovering awkwardly until Eduardo gets to his feet. He backs up a little, waiting for Eduardo to go first.

Eduardo grabs his bags and heads out of the room without looking back. He can hear Mark shuffling along behind him, but he doesn't want to talk and talking to Mark is exhausting - Erica had been right about the Stairmaster thing.

Dustin and Chris are waiting for them downstairs. Outside of the lobby, Eduardo can see hordes of reporters and people. When they see Mark and Eduardo, they start shouting so loudly that it's audible through the big glass windows. Eduardo raises his hand up against the camera flashes and then feels Mark wrap an arm around his waist.

He looks over at Mark in astonishment and Mark gives his little half-smile. "Chris said that we need to make it convincing."

Chris glances back and smiles approvingly. Eduardo frowns, but drops his arm back to his side. Chris calls, "Ready?" and pushes through the revolving door. Dustin shouts something that sounds suspiciously like, "Geronimo!" before following him.

Mark and Eduardo follow them out and Eduardo is hit with a wave of sound. He ducks his head instinctively, avoiding eye contact and ignoring the shouts.

"Mark, would you say that you -"

"Is this a shotgun marriage?"

"Eduardo, Eduardo -"

"Did you sign a pre-nup?"

"Get in the car, come on!" Chris shouts, opening the back door of their hired car. He throws his duffel to the driver, who shoves it into the trunk. Eduardo abandons his bags with the driver and throws himself into the back seat. Chris gets in front and Dustin ends up wedged between Mark and Eduardo.

"Wow," Dustin says looking to his left, then his right. "This is awkward."

"It wouldn't have been if you hadn't said anything," Chris says over his shoulder. "Get us to the airport as quickly as possible and if you lose the press, I'll give you a bonus."

"Yes, sir," the driver said smartly and he tore away from the curb, nearly running over one particularly persistent paparazzo.

"So," Dustin says to Eduardo. "I hear you've been living in Singapore. Isn't it hot there?"

"Dustin, I lived in Florida. Before that, I lived in Brazil. I'm kind of used to tropical climates." Eduardo leans his head against the glass. "Did everything with the site go okay?"

"Are you actually interested or are you just being polite?" asks Mark, leaning over Dustin. Dustin shrinks back into his seat as if trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.

"I don't know, I guess I'm interested."

"Well, you're either interested or you're not. Which one is it?"

"Wow, less than twenty-four hours and you're already arguing like my parents," says Dustin.

"Let's not kid ourselves, Dustin, they've been arguing like this for years," Chris says in a bored tone.

"I'm interested!" Eduardo barks at Mark. "How did it go?"

"It went fine. We're in no danger of crashing, though I think it's rather flattering that it almost crashed just because we got married." Mark looks thoughtful.

"Yeah, well, everyone loves a good twist," Eduardo mutters.

"I'm still hungover," Dustin interrupts, "so I'm going to put a moratorium on talking until we get to the airport and I can pass out in peace. Is everyone good with this?"

"I don't know, I'm finding this very interesting," the driver says.

"That reminds me," Chris says. "I'm going to need you to sign a non-disclosure agreement."

Re: FILL 8b/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FILL 8b/? (Anonymous) Expand
Through some miracle, they get to the airport in one piece without being followed by any press. The driver signs Chris's nondisclosure form with a minimum amount of fuss. Mark, as he's getting out of the car, asks, "Do you have a Facebook?"

The driver, who looks to be about twenty-five, looks slightly taken aback by this. "Um, yes?" he says. "Why?"

"Okay," Mark says. "I will send you a message and I can help you out with privacy settings or, I don't know, special features for your profile."

Eduardo is out of the car before he can hear the end of the conversation, but when Mark emerges a couple of moments later, he says, "I'm pretty sure we won't have any problems with him."

"Good to know," Chris says. "Nice work, Mark."

Eduardo rolls his eyes and drags his bags inside the terminal. After getting through security, he heads to the first class lounge with Mark, Dustin, and Chris right behind him. Once there, Dustin folds himself into a seat and puts on his headphones.

Mark, to Eduardo's complete lack of surprise, pulls out his laptop and starts typing. Eduardo pulls out a book and tries to read, but he can't concentrate. Mark is sitting right next to him, typing away. It's so much like those years in college when Eduardo would study while Mark coded that Eduardo can almost believe that nothing has changed in the last five years.

Mark looks over at him after a minute and echoes his thoughts, saying, "This is kind of like college."

Eduardo opens his mouth to retort, but catches Chris staring at him expectantly, so he instead says, "That's what I was thinking."

Mark flashes him a small smile before bending back over his laptop. Eduardo fidgets with the pages of his book until finally he manages to make himself concentrate for more than two minutes and actually read a chapter.

---

The flight is thankfully quite short. When they land at SFO, it's a little after six p.m. and Eduardo's stomach is waging a full-scale revolt on the rest of him. He's glad that he'd hardly eaten anything since breakfast; he's already nervous enough about the press conference without worrying about throwing up.

As they get into their car, Chris says, "We're heading back to headquarters for what should hopefully a quick press conference, and then you can go home and sleep."

"Do I have to be here?" asks Dustin plaintively.

"Yes," Chris says shortly. "I am not doing this alone."

They arrive at the Facebook offices about half an hour later to find a sea of reporters waiting outside on the grass. They pile out and Chris shepherds them to the podium set up outside the glass doors. The moment they see Mark and Eduardo, the photographers go crazy, snapping pictures. Chris hisses back at them, "Hold hands, you morons."

Eduardo feels Mark grab a hold of his hand, interlacing their fingers together. Mark's hand is cool and dry, the palm slightly callused from fencing. Mark rubs his thumb along the back of Eduardo's knuckles until Eduardo looks up at him. Mark nods at him and says softly, "It's going to be fine, Wardo."

"I hope you're right," Eduardo mutters as Chris goes to the podium.

Edited at 2010-12-30 07:02 pm (UTC)

Chris raises his hands and, remarkably, the chatter from the reporters dies down. He gives his disarming smile and he lays on a little bit of North Carolina twang as he says, "I believe you all heard the news this morning - unless you're just here for my pretty face."

The reporters laugh dutifully, but watch him expectantly, obviously wanting more. Chris takes a quick breath, still smiling. "As you have heard, our CEO Mark Zuckerberg has finally taken himself off the most eligible bachelor list. Here, with his new husband Eduardo Saverin, is Mark Zuckerberg."

Chris moves aside and Mark tows Eduardo along with him to the podium. As the two of them settle next to each other, still holding hands, the photographers go crazy again, snapping away. Mark leans in towards the microphone and says, "Hello. I, I didn't realize there would be this much interest in this. My marriage is a private matter. But I understand that there will be a great deal of interest given the public knowledge of our past.

"Eduardo and I reconnected about a year and a half ago. There has always been a great deal of fondness between the two of us, despite appearances -" Here, his hand tightens on Eduardo's just the tiniest bit. "- and we have been in a relationship for about a year. Our marriage may have been spur of the moment, but it has been a long time coming."

Mark leans back from the mic and Chris says in a soft undertone, "Nicely done."

Eduardo has to admit he's impressed; he knows Mark isn't exactly comfortable speaking in front of large groups of people, but he'd sounded at ease and completely confident. He hadn't even delivered a veiled insult, as was his common practice.

Chris says, "We'll take questions now," and selects a hand from the many that immediately fly into the air. "Yes?"

"Yes, hi, will this marriage in any way be affecting the structure of Facebook?"

"As Mark and Eduardo didn't marry in California, things are a little complicated," Chris says with a wry smile, prompting another laugh. "That's something our lawyers will be working out in the next few days. I doubt that any substantial changes will be made, though."

Eduardo tunes out the next few questions, most of which are incredibly dull. Then comes, "Mr. Saverin, how were you able to overcome your previous problems with Mr. Zuckerberg?"

Eduardo gives Chris a nervous look. Chris gestures him to speak and Eduardo leans in, trying not to appear as panicked as he feels. "Like Mark said, there's always been...a lot of, um, love and affection between us. I've - Mark was my - my best friend and even though things went, um, a little bad, we've both apologized for the mistakes we've made and. And we love each other a lot." He steps back before he can stammer out anything else. Dustin smirks a little at Eduardo and Mark is looking down at their joined hands, a small, private smile on his face.

Chris fields the last few questions before excusing them and herding them back to the car. "Nice job, you guys," he says once they're safely ensconced inside. "Not bad for a first go. But remember, we have a lot more ahead of us. We'll have to work on your answers."

"I think we did all right," Mark says. He still hasn't let go of Eduardo's hand. Eduardo, oddly, doesn't mind too much.

Re: FILL 9b/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FILL 9b/? (Anonymous) Expand
Some of the things said about California's marriage laws are wrong or poorly stated. That is intentional.


Mark's house is, rather shockingly, not a mansion at all. Eduardo realizes belatedly that his remark about seven bedrooms must have been a poor attempt at a joke. Mark shrugs when Eduardo looks at him questioningly and moves away to open the door.

"You know Mark," Dustin says when Eduardo looks at him. "I tried to convince him to buy a pimped out bachelor pad, but he said that he didn't need it."

"It's actually better for PR," Chris butts in. "The owner of Facebook doesn't flaunt his money, how unusual! It looks good." He shoves lightly at Eduardo's back, glancing back over his shoulder. "Every time the two of you go out, I want you to be acting like the newlyweds you are. You're the new Brangelina."

"Did you seriously just say that?" Eduardo asks as Chris shoves at him again, this time less gently.

"I'll see you on Monday!" Chris calls, waving like an asshole, and he drags Dustin back into the car, which speeds off. Eduardo grabs his bags and follows Mark into the house.

The house is surprisingly nice inside. Mark must have hired a maid or something, because it's far neater than his dorm room at Harvard or the disgusting house of debauchery from that hellish summer. Mark gestures to Eduardo to follow him upstairs.

"I've got four bedrooms," he says. "Three upstairs, one downstairs. I turned one into a computer room. I hope that's all right."

"It's your house," Eduardo says absently, looking at the bare walls. He had half-expected photos or posters - but that isn't Mark's style.

"It's our house," Mark corrects. "Under California law, it's our house."

"Fine," Eduardo says. "Whatever, it's our house."

Mark doesn't look happy, but then, he rarely does. He opens a door at the end of the hall. "Here, you can use this room."

Eduardo steps inside, dropping his bags just inside the door. He gropes for the light switch and flicks it up, illuminating a rather small, but cozy room. There's a queen bed, a dresser, and a small bookshelf. The room is barren of anything personal, and Eduardo wonders what Mark had meant the room to be.

"This is fine," Eduardo says, turning back to look at Mark, who is still hovering in the door frame.

Mark nods once, short and pensive. "Let me show you the rest of the house."

Mark leads Eduardo down the hall, pointing out the computer room, the bathroom that Mark says Eduardo can use, and the master bedroom, which is at the opposite end of the hall. Eduardo can't help but be faintly relieved by the distance between their rooms. Bad enough he has to share a house with Mark; if their rooms were adjacent, Eduardo would have no space to just be.

"I don't really cook, so there's not much food here," Mark says when they reach the kitchen. Eduardo opens the refrigerator and sees a six pack of beer, what looks like a container of roast beef, and a forlorn Chinese take-out box. He shakes his head, half in disgust and half in pity.

"You realize we're not actually in college anymore, right?" he asks Mark. "We need to go get some actual food."

"All right," Mark says easily. "Tomorrow. It'll make Chris happy if we go together."

Eduardo just barely refrains from rolling his eyes.

Re: FILL 10a/? (Anonymous) Expand
(Deleted comment)
(Deleted comment)
Eduardo's first night in Mark's - well, their - house is surprisingly restful. The bed is incredibly comfortable and, depressingly, bigger than the one in his Singapore apartment. He wakes early the next morning, feeling refreshed. He takes a shower and revels in the hot water and the truly excellent controls on the water pressure. Mark may not have shelled out for a McMansion, but he had clearly spared no expense in upgrading his house.

He emerges from the bathroom just as Mark shuffles out of the computer room. Eduardo squints at him and recognizes the familiar signs from college - the circles under his eyes, the messiness of his hair.

"You didn't even sleep last night, did you?" asks Eduardo, hands on his hips.

Mark looks up and blinks. "You're not wearing a shirt."

"I just got out of the shower," Eduardo says, suddenly feeling self-conscious. He crosses his arms over his chest and juts out his jaw defiantly. "Did you sleep?"

"Why does it matter?" mutters Mark, trying to brush past Eduardo.

"Mark." Eduardo sticks his hand out and grabs Mark's shoulder. "Did you sleep last night?"

Mark doesn't look at him as he admits, "A couple hours."

"I don't understand how you run a company like this," Euardo mutters. "Shower, get ready to go out. We're going to get some goddamn food for this barren hellhole."

"What's wrong with my house?" demands Mark, frowning.

"It doesn't feel like anyone actually lives here, Mark. Now go get ready." He shoves Mark towards the master bedroom and he heads back to his own room to get dressed.

Mark arrives downstairs a few minutes after him, dressed in a nearly identical hoodie and a pair of jeans. His hair looks a little damp, so Eduardo takes that as a sign of success. "My car's out front," Mark says and he produces his car keys from the front pocket of his jeans.

Eduardo eyes the keys warily. He's never had the privilege of riding with Mark and he's not entirely sure he wants to. "You're going to drive?"

"Yeah, it's my car." Mark leads the way to the garage. "Come on, Wardo, it won't be that bad."


It is that bad.

It's not that Mark is a reckless driver; it's more that he's just careless. Eduardo stares as cars, pedestrians, even birds seem to throw themselves out of Mark's way because anyone who sees him can probably tell that he's not going to be the one to move first. It's like Mark is playing one giant game of chicken with the world.

They somehow make it to the grocery store alive. Eduardo notices a couple of vans following them - he had learned to spot potential dangers at a young age - and when they step out of the car, he sees the sun reflect off of camera lenses. He hurriedly catches up to Mark and walks close enough to him that their shoulders bump together.

Mark looks up and smiles a little. Eduardo rolls his eyes and they go inside the store together.

Mark is absolutely useless at grocery shopping. He's ambivalent towards everything Eduardo suggests. After the fifth shrug and, "Whatever you want," Eduardo just starts grabbing things without asking Mark.

Mark follows quietly in his wake, only stopping to grab beer and Twizzlers. Eduardo spots the photographers lurking around the aisles and is careful to angle his body towards Mark. Mark doesn't seem to notice or care.

At the check-out, the cashier smiles at Mark cheerfully. "Welcome back, Mark! I see you're buying more food than usual."

"That would be my fault," Eduardo says with a smile he doesn't really feel. "Hi."

"Hi," the cashier says. Her nametag reads, Alina. "Will you be sticking around? Because every time Mark comes here, all he buys is beer, ramen, and occasionally bread."

"That isn't actually true," Mark says.

"He's very literal," Eduardo warns her. "And yes, it looks like I'll be sticking around."

She smiles as she finishes ringing up the last item. "Good. I'm glad to see Mark with someone, finally."

Eduardo looks over at Mark, who raises his eyebrows and smirks a little. "Oh yeah?" he says casually. "He's never brought in anyone else?"

"God no," snorts the cashier. "I tried asking him out and he didn't even realize."

Mark's amused expression fades into a frown. Eduardo grins, now genuinely amused, and wraps his arm around Mark's waist. "That's Mark for you."

Mark squirms a little, but doesn't try hard to get away. The cashier grins and hands them their receipt. "Have a nice day, fellas."

Re: FILL 10c/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FILL 10c/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FILL 10c/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FILL 10c/? (Anonymous) Expand
Given that I'm at part 11 and there seems to be no sign of this ending soon, do any of you have any title ideas? I'm shit with titles, seriously, so any thoughts would be helpful.


Eduardo press-gangs Mark into helping him put the groceries away once they're back at the house. Mark, predictably, is little to no help. For all his computational organizational skills, he seems to have no idea what the crisper is for. Eduardo pulls the same six pack of beer out of it three times until he finally tells Mark to just hand him things.

Eduardo forces Mark to eat a sandwich before he lets Mark hole himself up in the computer room to immerse himself in coding or whatever it is that Mark spent so much time on. Eduardo grabs his own laptop and sits on the obscenely comfortable leather couch, ready to deal with his email inbox. Just as he settles in, he realizes that he doesn't know the password to Mark's wireless network - "Zuckonit_Palo Alto."

He unfolds himself and reluctantly goes to Mark's cave. Mark is, of course, hunched over a computer keyboard and typing furiously. Eduardo clears his throat and Mark holds up a finger. Eduardo sighs and taps his foot in a purposefully annoying way to speed Mark up.

Finally, Mark spins his chair around and looks up at Eduardo with a vaguely annoyed expression. "Yes?" he asks.

"I need to know the wireless password," Eduardo says.

Mark looks at him, then says, "Hold on, I'll go enter it in." He starts to get up.

Eduardo waves his hands at him. "No, Mark, you don't have to. Just tell me the password, I'll log myself in."

To his surprise, Mark starts to look a little flustered. "I'll do it, it's no problem," he says, getting to his feet and coming closer to Eduardo. "I'll go do it." He pushes through the door before Eduardo can say anything and Eduardo closes his mouth with a snap, irritated.

"Mark," he calls as he follows the sound of Mark's flip flops. "I thought we decided to trust each other."

"It's not that I don't trust you," Mark calls back. "I needed to stretch my legs anyway."

"You were in there for ten minutes," protests Eduardo.

"I have a very tense back!" There's a brief pause where Eduardo is torn between laughter and confusion. "Or at least that's what I am told!"

"Who's telling you that?" demands Eduardo. He goes back into the living room to see Mark typing on his computer. He considers making a fuss, but decides to leave it in favor of discussing who on earth is telling Mark that he has a tense back. "Mark, who told you that you have a tense back?"

"Why, are you jealous?" Mark asks absently without looking up.

Eduardo rolls his eyes. "Mark."

"I don't know, someone said it to me. I don't remember who. I don't remember a lot of things, Wardo, you know that." Mark finally looks up at him. "You're logged on to the network."

"Thank you," Eduardo says automatically and he takes his computer from Mark.

"You're welcome," Mark replies stiffly and he hovers at Eduardo's side for a few moments before shaking his head and disappearing upstairs.

Eduardo sends out emails to the people he's been working with in Singapore - yes, he's living in California for the foreseeable future, no, he's not sure how this will affect app development - then sends more chatty emails to his family. Yes, I got married, sorry you weren't all invited, etc etc. To Chris, he sends his address in Singapore so Chris can deal with moving Eduardo's things out and getting them to California.

By the time he's finished, there's already a reply from his mother sitting in his inbox. He opens it up with a sigh.

Eduardo,

Sweetheart, we are all very happy for you as you know. Auntie D is bitter because you know Gustavo is still not married. he will end up with a girl no one wants! But you have married a very rich man and so she is very envious.

But we do want to officially meet him. I know we have met this boy before, but now he is your husband and I think we should have a nice family dinner. Maybe with his parents too. And please consider holding another wedding for the family. I would like to show Dolores that we are not ashamed of your marriage.

Love,
Your mama


He stares at the email blankly for a few moments, then saves it so that he can figure out a correct response later. He gets up, stretches, and then looks around the room. There's a television, of course, and there is a shelf of movies next to it. He picks through them and sees the same sorts of things Mark liked in college - sci-fi and action, plus every Pixar film that's been released.

It feels almost like they've skipped backwards a few years, back to when things were a whole lot simpler between them. It's easy to fall into a rhythm with Mark; Eduardo has been finding it harder and harder to remember that he's supposed to hate Mark.

But then, Eduardo never really did hate Mark. The lawsuit hadn't been about hate - it had been about teaching Mark a lesson more than anything else, but Mark hadn't wanted to learn. Couldn't learn, maybe.

Eduardo goes into the kitchen and starts taking out food. He knows better than to expect Mark to cook dinner - Mark could barely feed himself when someone else was taking care of the preparation - and Eduardo enjoys cooking anyway. He starts boiling water and runs his hand over his forehead as he watches tiny bubbles build up in the bottom of the pot.

Mark wanders downstairs about a half hour later, looking confused. "I smell food," he says and Eduardo holds up his hands, one of which is holding an onion, the other a tomato. "Oh," Mark says.

"I hope pasta's all right," Eduardo says, turning back to the cutting board. "I couldn't remember what foods you liked."

"I'll eat most things." He hears Mark's footsteps move closer. "Do you need any help?"

"Cut the onion?" Eduardo slides it over. "My eyes water like crazy when I do it."

Mark comes up next to him and takes out a knife. "Okay." He starts cutting the onion, not looking up at Eduardo. "I've never had that problem."

Eduardo doesn't any of the thousand things that come to mind at this, but then, he's always been the one who can control his tongue. He starts slicing up the tomato, his elbow bumping lightly against Mark's.

Mark stays well back while Eduardo makes the actual pasta sauce. He leans against the counter and watches Eduardo impassively, not saying a word. Eduardo gestures for him to get plates and Mark opens up one of the cabinets, pulling out two plates. Eduardo scoops pasta and sauce onto both plates, then takes them to the kitchen table.

Mark eats without speaking. Eduardo can tell that Mark is thinking something over from the way Mark's left hand drums lightly on the table.
Eduardo watches him for a while, then breaks the silence to ask, "How long do you think we'll do this?"

Mark looks up, startled. "Excuse me?"

"This." Eduardo motions between the two of them. "We can't stay married forever."

"We can't?" Mark asks in his dry, flat tone.

"Do you want to stay married forever?" demands Eduardo, setting hsi fork down. "I don't know about you, but I always thought I would marry some girl and have babies with her. I thought that's what you wanted, too!"

"I don't know about the children part," Mark says.

"Mark!"

"I don't know what you want me to say," Mark says. "I don't know how long we're going to be married. That's really up to Chris."

"Right." Eduardo picks up his fork again. "So here's what I want to know. Do you have any idea why we thought it was a good idea to get married?"

Mark looks down at his plate. "No," he says. Eduardo frowns; he's pretty sure that Mark is lying, but he doesn't know why Mark would do that. "Aside from the fact that we were pretty intoxicated. I have a history of making bad decisions while drunk."

"I know, I remember." Eduardo spears a noodle with his fork. "And you think that's the only reason?"

"I don't know, Wardo, and I wasn't the only one there," Mark reminds him.

"Well, I don't remember anything," Eduardo says, which is mostly true. Eduardo remembers most of what happened at the bar before they apparently went out on their little cruise through the Tunnel of Love or whatever it was, and he remembers fighting with Mark, though he honestly had no idea what they had been arguing about.

"Do you remember what we were fighting about?" he asks Mark.

"We were fighting?" Mark asks. "I didn't think that was a fight."

"We were shouting at each other. People were staring."

"People stare a lot."

"Usually because you're being an asshole," Eduardo agrees, "but this time it was because we were shouting."

"You were shouting, I was replying," Mark corrects. "I don't shout."

"I wish you would," Eduardo says.

"Why?"

"Because then I'd know you at least cared enough to get angry." Rather than wait for a response, Eduardo grabs his now empty plate and says, "Good night."

"Wardo -"

"Mark, I am tired and it's been two years since I had to deal with you on a daily basis. I need time to adjust and right now if I talk to you any longer, I can't be held responsible for the violence that will inevitable ensue." Mark doesn't say anything. "Good night," Eduardo repeats, and he sets his plate in the sink before grabbing his laptop and retreating upstairs.

Re: FILL 11c/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FILL 11c/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FILL 11c/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FILL 11c/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FILL 11c/? (Anonymous) Expand
Re: FILL 11c/? (Anonymous) Expand

Never Marry for Money (You Can Borrow it Cheaper) 12a/?

Thank you to hackthis for this excellent title! hypertwink's suggestion of "The Accidental Husbands" ran a close second, but it seems to be agreed that one is somewhat disingenuous.

To: Eduardo Saverin (eduardo.saverin@gmail.com)
From: Dustin Moskovitz (dmoskovtiz@facebook.com)

Re: Do you know how many people have emailed me today?

Roughly everyone we ever knew at Harvard. Granted, most of them are not surprised, but they are asking me if I knew about the two of you dating. I've been saying that of course I knew, I always knew.

I've also gotten an email from my mom asking me why I haven't settled down yet. Even Chris has a boyfriend, Eduardo, how dare you go and get married? Now my mom thinks I'm defective or something. I officially have no wingmen. (Though to be honest, Chris wasn't a very good wingman and Mark was worse.)

How's married life treating you?


To: Dustin Moskovitz (dmoskovit@facebook.com)
From: Eduardo Saverin (eduardo.saverin@gmail.com)

Re: Do you know how much I don't care?

Fuck off Dustin


To: Dustin Moskovitz (dmoskovitz@facebook.com)
From: Eduardo Saverin (eduardo.saverin@gmail.com)

Re: Wait a minute

You let Mark be your wing man? What the hell were you thinking?



"Look," Dustin says when he calls a few minutes later, "I thought it was a good idea at the time."

"You think a lot of ideas are good," Eduardo says.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up. Do you want to hear a story you can mock Mark with or not?"

"Definitely," Eduardo says.

"Married life that bad?" Dustin laughs. "All right, let me tell you the problem with having Mark as your wing man. Well, actually, I used to use Chris, as you well know, but all the girls seem to think we're together or they think he's adorable and they want him to be their new best friend. Plus he's way cuter than me, or so I am told."

"Whoever told you that did not lie," says Eduardo.

"Fuck you," Dustin replies amiably. "Anyway, so I took Mark with me a couple of times, but he has this tendency to make random and offensive remarks. It's only charming to you."

"It's not charming to me," protests Eduardo.

"Yeah, whatever," Dustin says. "You say things and I don't believe any of them."

"You're an asshole," Eduardo informs him.

"Well, I fit in well, don't I?" Dustin says in a sing-song voice. "See you on Monday, Mrs. Boss Man!"

He hangs up before Eduardo has a chance to retort. Eduardo glares at his cell phone with impotent rage and barely manages not to throw it across the room.

Edited at 2011-01-06 03:10 am (UTC)

Never Marry for Money (You Can Borrow it Cheaper) 12b/?

To: Eduardo Saverin (eduardo.saverin@gmail.com); Mark Zuckerberg (markisceo@facebook.com)
From: Chris Hughes (chughes@facebook.com)

Re: Information you should have


1. Gawker and Perez Hilton already have photos of the two of you grocery shopping. I'm glad you're playing nice. Keep it up.

2. Eduardo, your things have been boxed and are on their way from Singapore. The boxes should be there by tomorrow afternoon.

3. On Monday, we need to sit down with the lawyers and discuss how your marriage affects the company. I'm guessing you didn't sign a pre-nup.

4. Also you should talk to the employees because they keep asking me what happened for some godforsaken reason and I would appreciate it if they would stop.

5. Also Sean (Parker, not my boyfriend Sean) is pissed. (Though my boyfriend Sean is not happy that I'm spending all my time on this bullshit.) So Mark, you need to take care of that because he's annoying enough to deal with normally.

6. Friday you are flying out to appear on Oprah's show. She is very excited and plans on asking you a lot of questions.

Which brings me to...

7. On Thursday, we're going to have to go over your story so that you sound convincing. Mark, I know you suck at talking to people, so let Eduardo do a lot of the talking. It will look better that way plus there's less opportunity for you to say something stupid.


That is your week. Get used to it because it's not changing.


Your savior who deserves a huge raise,

Chris


To: Chris Hughes (chughes@facebook.com); Eduardo Saverin (eduardo.saverin@gmail.com)
From: Mark Zuckerberg (markisceo@facebook.com)

Re: Corrections and follow-up


3. Why would we have signed a pre-nup?

5. I will deal with Sean.

7. I do not suck at talking to people.


Your boss who is not giving you a raise,

Mark

P.S. Wardo - We will need to see about getting you a Facebook email address.



To: Chris Hughes (chughes@facebook.com); Mark Zuckerberg (markisceo@facebook.com)
From: Eduardo Saverin (eduardo.saverin@gmail.com

Re: Thanks

Chris - thank you for the update, I appreciate it.

Mark - we will talk about this later.


To: Eduardo Saverin (eduardo.saverin@gmail.com)
From: Dustin Moskovitz (dmoskovitz@facebook.com)

Re: hey

I hear you laid down the law. Guess we know who wears the pants in your relationship!


To: Dustin Moskovitz (dmoskovitz@facebook.com)
From: Eduardo Saverin (eduardo.saverin@gmail.com)

Re: Shut up, Dustin.

Shut up, Dustin.

Never Marry for Money (You Can Borrow it Cheaper), 13a/?

Eduardo wakes up early and goes downstairs to make coffee. It takes three tries for him to find where the coffee is stored, but he finds it and takes it down. It looks like it's never been touched, but then Mark has never really needed coffee.

Eduardo notices that the coffee is from São Paulo, and allows himself a small smile before he pours out the grounds into a coffee filter. He makes himself a pot of coffee in Mark's pristine, state of the art coffee maker, then makes two pieces of toast.

Mark comes downstairs while Eduardo is putting strawberry jam on his toast. He frowns and says, "We bought jam?"

"Yes. Do you want anything?" Eduardo runs the knife under the faucet before moving to the kitchen table. "I made coffee."

"I don't like coffee," Mark says. He opens the refrigerator and stares inside for a minute. "I don't usually eat breakfast."

"Eat something," Eduardo sighs. "And why do you have coffee and a coffee maker if you don't like it?"

"It's something you're supposed to have," Mark says. "I don't want to eat anything."

"We have a whole refrigerator full of food, we bought enough food for an army yesterday." Eduardo sips his coffee. "Eat some toast."

"I don't like toast."

"We have peanut butter and jam, you can have a sandwich. I know you eat that." Eduardo watches as Mark takes out two pieces of bread. "Did you sleep?"

"Yes, I slept." Mark leans up on tiptoes to grab the peanut butter out of the cabinet, his sweatshirt riding up a little. "Anything else you want to ask?"

"Not really," Eduardo says. He takes another sip of coffee. "This is good coffee."

"So I have been told." Mark finishes making his sandwich and sends the knife spinning back into the sink. "I have a maid."

"I figured," Eduardo says. "I remember the other place you've lived."

"What is that supposed to mean?" asks Mark sharply, turning to look at Eduardo.

"It means that you're generally not the neatest of people," Eduardo says. "And this house is spotless."

"Hmm." Mark frowns at Eduardo, as if trying to read his mind, then shakes his head. "Well, I have a maid. She comes on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays."

"And the point of this is?"

"The point is I have a maid and I thought you should know. Since you live here." Mark grabs his sandwich and sits across from Eduardo. "Your stuff is coming today."

"I got the same email as you," Eduardo reminds him.

"Yeah," agrees Mark. He bites into his sandwich and chews slowly, not looking away from Eduardo. Eduardo looks down at his coffee and does his best to ignore the weight of Mark's gaze.

Never Marry for Money (You Can Borrow it Cheaper), 13b/?

Eduardo escapes upstairs with the excuse of needing to sort out his room before his possessions arrive. He hears the sound of the television switch on before he shuts the door to his room. He tries reading one of the books he'd bought in the Singapore airport, but he can't concentrate. He sets the book aside and looks around the room, trying to decide what he's going to do with his belongings.

Around eleven, the doorbell rings. Eduardo heads downstairs in time to see Mark open front door. Eduardo spots a few photographers lurking across the street and they leap into a frenzy when Eduardo comes up behind Mark, jostling for better angles.

The mover, a tall, muscular man who looks a little like the Winklevoss twins, ignores the ruckus behind him and says, "Mr. Zuckerberg? Mr. Saverin? We have Mr. Saverin's belongings."

"Yeah," Eduardo says, laying a hand on Mark's shoulder to pull him back a little. "That's me. I'll show you upstairs."

"Your things have been boxed according to the room they were in," the mover says. "Do you want us to separate them?"

"I guess -" Eduardo glances at Mark, who shrugs. "I guess take the bedroom stuff upstairs and leave everything else in the living room."

"Sounds good," the mover says and he gestures behind him. Eduardo grabs Mark around the arm and pulls him away from the door as the movers start streaming inside.

"We need to show them to my room," Mark says in a low voice.

"What?" asks Eduardo, frowning at Mark.

"There are photographers across the street," Mark says. "And the movers could talk to them."

"And if they see we're in two separate bedrooms," Eduardo finishes, "they might talk. Shit." He eyes Mark. "You came up with that all on your own."

"Chris warned me." Mark looks down at where Eduardo's hand is still wrapped around his bicep. Eduardo drops his hand quickly and steps away from Mark.

"I'll show them upstairs," Eduardo says, and he turns to look at the movers. "Follow me," he says.

Never Marry for Money (You Can Borrow it Cheaper) 13c/?

A little after twelve thirty, the movers finish depositing the boxes around Mark's house. Their departure is marked by the same quiet efficiency as their arrival and Eduardo makes a note to ask Chris where he found them.

After closing the door behind the last guy, Eduardo turns and looks at the house. "Considering the fact that my apartment wasn't actually all that large, I had a lot of things," he remarks to the room at large.

"You've always been put more stock in material belongings than I do," says Mark, emerging from behind a pile of boxes.

Eduardo squints at Mark suspiciously. "Is that a criticism?"

"It's an observation," Mark says in his annoying flat tone of voice.

"Fine. I'm going to start unpacking." Eduardo moves into the living room. "Do you have scissors?"

Mark disappears behind more boxes for a moment, then reappears with a pair of scissors. He hands them over, blade first. Eduardo sighs, but takes the scissors and slices the tape open on the first box.

"Should I be helping?" Mark asks after a moment of watching Eduardo sort through a box full of DVDs and CDs.

"Well, I don't know how you organize your shelves, so if you want to take care of that," Eduardo says, shoving the box at Mark.

Mark takes the box and looks a little askance at Eduardo's choices. Miraculously, he manages to hold back whatever comments are stewing, and he goes over to the shelf to start putting things away.

Eduardo works his way through the boxes in the house, setting aside things they have duplicates of, like his much-beloved but ancient coffeemaker. By the time he gets upstairs, he's tired and bored and Mark still hasn't finished sorting the damn DVDs.

Eduardo stares at the boxes of his clothes and books that are piled in Mark's bedroom. With a sigh, he hoists the first box of books and carries it down the hall to his room. He spreads them out over his bed and spends a soothing twenty minutes sorting them and deciding how to organize them on his shelf.

When he returns to Mark's room to grab the next box of books, he finds Mark hanging his clothes in the closet. "Mark?" he asks hesitantly. "What are you doing?"

"We're going to be having visitors," Mark points out without looking at Eduardo. "We should at least give the appearance of a married couple."

"They're not going to be in our bedrooms, Mark," Eduardo protests.

"I don't think my point is invalid," Mark says.

"Your point is crazy, Mark!"

"We're married," says Mark. "What am I doing that's crazy?"

Eduardo opens his mouth to start listing, then closes his mouth again. He's sick of arguing and Mark's point isn't entirely, completely insane. He waves his hand for Mark to continue and grabs the next box of books to put in his room.

The sad thing is, Eduardo kind of likes the way Mark is actually engaging in something other than code. Mark is actually interested in something related to Eduardo and some part of Eduardo has apparently never stopped longing for Mark's attention and approval, because he should be angrier, more upset about the whole situation. But he finally has Mark's goddamn attention.

Never Marry for Money (You Can Borrow it Cheaper), 14a/?

Eduardo wakes up on Monday with a growing sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. It takes him a moment to locate the reason why - and then he remembers he's supposed to go into the Facebook offices with Mark. The last time he'd gone into those offices, Eduardo had destroyed a two thousand dollar computer. He had nearly punched Sean in the face. (He really should have punched Sean in the face.)

Eduardo takes a shower and remembers on his way back to his room that his clothes are in Mark's closet. He turns and heads back towards Mark's room. He knocks, just to be polite, then lets himself in.

Mark is asleep, his mouth soft and slackened in sleep. Eduardo looks at him for a long moment. He's pretty sure he can count on his hands how many times he's actually seen Mark sleeping, and every time, it never fails to startle him how soft and how young Mark looks in sleep. He looks like a normal person.

Eduardo opens the closet as quietly as he can and finds that Mark has neatly segregated Eduardo's collared shirts and pressed suits from Mark's rumpled hoodies and cargo pants. Eduardo takes out a grey shirt and pair of dark jeans that his last girlfriend had bought him.

He makes himself coffee and drinks it out of a mug that has some sort of joke in binary on it. His hands are shaking a little as he pours a second cup of coffee and he forces himself to set the pot down. He leans against the counter and breathes in and out, slowly and deeply.

He drinks the second cup of coffee at the table, taking his time so that he can calm down a little. Until now, he'd been able to pretend that this marriage is only temporary, that it's not real. But today he's going to the Facebook offices to talk to the lawyers about what the marriage is going to mean for the company, for him, for Mark.

Eduardo sets the empty mug aside and looks at the plain golden band on his left ring finger. He still gets this odd thrill down his spine every time he looks at it. He doesn't know whether it's out of horror or fear or what, but just looking at the ring on his finger makes him feel displaced.

He hears the sound of Mark coming down the stairs, but he doesn't look up. He twists the ring around his finger, watching it catch the early morning light coming in through the windows. Mark's footsteps stop and Eduardo feels that weird prickly sensation of someone staring at him. He turns and looks at Mark, who is staring at him with another one of those inscrutable looks.

"Ready to go?" asks Mark after a moment of silence.

"Yeah," Eduardo says and he gets to his feet.

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