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The Social Network: the kink meme!

It's Complicated: But sexy!

zuckonitkinkeme zuckonitkinkeme wrote in tsn_kinkmeme
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quick note; GUYS. please be aware that if you posted a prompt in part six and it is now screened, i have posted them to the post already - so that you guys don't have to. thanks for being patient and making the fill-a-thon such a success!

sorry i didn't get much of delicious done; i lacked the internet over the break but rest assured i have absolutely nothing to do so will get it, hopefully.




IMPORTANT: please DO NOT post prompts about any non-public people as part of a prompt. for example: randi zuckerberg is fine as she is a public figure both on the internet and on facebook itself. priscilla chan is NOT as she is not a public figure.

if you're in doubt, please message the mod or leave a comment in the discussion post.

♥ 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 ;))


♥ 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.


♥ 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.
NEW: ♥ PLEASE comment with the first of your fill to the PROMPT and then all future updates as a comment to the FIRST PART of the fill. this makes it easier for both the WIP spreadhseet and for archiving stuff on delicious. it also helps people who are trying to catch up on updates and don't have to look through every fill on the prompt (should it have more than one). thank you.






have fun!

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


i know you guys are enjoying this meme and i appreciate that but please can you put the SUBJECT HEADER on your prompt. you would REALLY be helping me out if you could do that. it just saves time for me when i'm trying to tag everything in delicious.

AND PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DO NOT repost prompts from parts three, four, five or six over here again. the delicious is around for people to find prompts they may not have already seen. (prompts for parts one and two are now up for reposting.)



Eduardo/Mark, Mark is unable to say "I love you" convincingly

"Tell me like you’d die for me. Like nothing else matters. Like your world stops turning because of me.

Like you mean it, you little shit."

Fill; The Body Says No 1/?

A/N: I don't know what's happened, there is SO MUCH PLOT. OP, I hope you find the start promising!


The Body Says No.


It starts in Singapore.

That's a lie. It really starts at Harvard, in Kirkland, when Eduardo says I'm here for you and realises he means something else. When he admits to himself that then end of Erica and Mark's relationship makes him happy, and not sad.

It starts at Harvard, but it begins in Singapore.


Eduardo hasn't talked to, mentioned or seen Mark in a little over a year. Mark wasn't even in the room as Eduardo signed copy after copy of share agreements, non-disclosure agreements, dilution agreements, passing each contract to his lawyer for her approval before ink touched paper.

Once it was over, once Mark's lawyers had shaken his hand and thanked him for his time, once he had waved off Gretchen's offer of a celebratory coffee and watched her leave, Eduardo stood on the sidewalk and tried to feel. He had imagined this moment every day since the millionth member party, and in his imagination he had always felt victorious, vindicated and alive. But now that his dream had substance and form, he only felt like a toy boat, floating helplessly in the widest ocean.

It was only once he was back at the hotel that Eduardo had realised exactly what his new wealth meant for him. For some people, he understood, wealth meant status, the ability to acquire material assets or to indulge their wildest fantasies. To Eduardo, his wealth meant freedom. He had the ability to take whatever he wanted, and make it happen. And in that moment, he never wanted to see Mark Zuckerberg ever again.

And that had been how the idea for Singapore had come about. A place as far from Mark Zuckerberg as it was possible to be. Not so remote that people would think Eduardo had decided to become one with the earth, but not trendy enough for him to be photographed taking coffee with prospective business investments. He'd made the arrangements that afternoon, including a trip to Miami to see his parents. It had been so simple.

Telling his parents had been excruciating. His father had called him a coward, as he expected, but he didn't care. He was too exhausted to do anything other than pack up the few belongings that remained in his room, and spend the rest of the day drinking cheap beer in one of his favourite bars. He'd stumbled home drunk that night, with the taste of someone else in his mouth and on his lips.

His mother cried when she kissed him goodbye, and he watched her worry a handkerchief with her fingertips, as the town car he'd hired pulled away from the house. He sank back into the cushioned leather seats, and replayed last night's events in his mind. The boy had been docile and supple in his arms. He'd giggled when Eduardo had poured tequila down his throat. He'd whispered something Spanish against the shell of Eduardo's ear, as his hand snaked down the front of Eduardo's pants. He'd sucked Eduardo off in a dark alley, eyelashes fluttering and spine arching sweetly as Eduardo came in his mouth.

Eduardo only returned the favour so he wouldn't have to look at the boys face. His eyes were too blue.

Eduardo spent his first three months in Singapore doing all the things he knew he shouldn't. He drank too much, every night, and woke up with a different guy every morning. He bought replacement after replacement for the Gucci suits and Prada shoes that he ruined in the seediest of bars. He started gambling, just to hear them call him 'Mister Saverin' without having to be asked, but never stopped to quantify how much he'd lost.

One morning he woke up in an unfamiliar house with bruises blooming on his hips, and someone else's come drying on the backs of his thighs. He'd poured away all his alcohol when he got home, and booked an AIDS test for the next day.

Author's Note

I forgot to mention, this is a little AU-ish, in that Wardo didn't go back to Harvard, he just fled to Singapore because of all the FEELINGS. So yeah, that's all you need to know, just to clear that up. Thanks.

Re: Fill; The Body Says No 1/?

loving this already, anon. ♥

Re: Fill; The Body Says No 1/?

Oh mah lord. Love this.

Re: Fill; The Body Says No 1/?

Great start, looking forward to more.

Re: Fill; The Body Says No 1/?

You have no idea how excited I am for this! AMAZING start, Anon!

Re: Fill; The Body Says No 1/? - skyearth85, 2011-06-13 07:32 pm (UTC)(Expand)

FILL: I Love All the Things. 1/3

So uh, I do not want to step on the current filler's toes, but I saw this prompt & couldn't resist. Don't worry, this fill is short and ridiculous.

"That's it?" Eduardo lays across Mark's bed, long limbs all spread out and taking up every inch of space everywhere.

Mark refuses to turn around, but he knows Eduardo is giving him the eyes. The big, brown ones that make Mark feel a little bit guilty even when he hasn't even done anything. So no, he's not turning around. Like, no.

Eduardo huffs, and Mark knows he's going for the full-on innocent look. His eyes will soften and he'll bite his lip, and he'll just stare. Until Mark caves or cries or kills himself. One of those. It's hard to tell in this early stage.

Mark holds steady, staring at his computer screen though he's been done coding for about an hour now. Eduardo doesn't know that though, and Mark will exploit his ignorance as long as he possibly can.

"Mark." Eduardo says. In that almost whining sort of voice, the one like his mom uses when she honestly cannot believe he's been pissng in water bottles for a day and a half because he didn't want to stop coding. "Seriously? That was it?"

Mark caves.

He swivels around in his desk chair, giving Eduardo his best, flattest, most disinterested look. It's taken him years to perfect. Years, okay. And yet Eduardo shrugs it off like Mark is a harmless little Chihuahua or something. All bark and no bite. Mark can bite. He can, okay?

"Yes. That was it." He shrugs, because at least he can still outshrug Eduardo. "It's not my fault you don't believe me."

Eduardo does this thing when he's frustrated. His fists clench and his body shakes and he throws himself backwards on the bed. "Mark." He repeats, when he's sitting back up and not looking like he might actually eat Mark. "You sent a text message. You sent me a text message, Mark."

"I know what a text message is, Wardo. You don't have to repeat yourself." Mark replies, frowning in Eduardo's direction. "I don't see the problem."

"You don't see the--" Eduardo sighs noisily, pulling out his phone. "So should I be worried that you didn't say anything back when I told you I loved you last night?" He reads off his phone. "And you replied with 'Nope. Same here.'" He looks up at Mark, looking distinctly unimpressed. "Tell me you still don't see the problem."

Mark shrugs again, his hands fumbling around his can of Red Bull. "I really don't." He spins around, facing his computer again. "We can't all be romantics like you."

Eduardo's eyes burn into his back. Disapproving and exasperated.

"You know that's not what this is about." Eduardo tells him, and Mark can hear him flopping around on the bed. Restless whenever they talk about something important. "I just want you to mean it."

Mark bites back a frustrated groan, spinning back around. "I mean it, Wardo. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

"But you didn't say it!" Eduardo almost yells, expression caught between glee, for backing Mark into a corner, and his usual dramatic misery. "You said 'same here', which is not saying it at all!"

Mark rolls his eyes, because he's genuinely annoyed and just a little bit confused. "What the fuck do you want me to say?"

FILL: I Love All the Things. 2/3 - (Anonymous), 2011-06-11 07:38 pm (UTC)(Expand)
FILL: I Love All the Things. 3/3 - (Anonymous), 2011-06-11 07:40 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: FILL: I Love All the Things. 3/3 - mathab, 2011-06-11 07:53 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: FILL: I Love All the Things. 3/3 - (Anonymous), 2011-06-12 02:11 am (UTC)(Expand)
The Body Says No!Anon - (Anonymous), 2011-06-12 06:31 am (UTC)(Expand)
Re: FILL: I Love All the Things. 3/3 - (Anonymous), 2011-06-12 10:35 am (UTC)(Expand)

Fill; The Body Says No 2a/?


It has taken him a long time to settle back into his skin, but he feels that now, one year later, he may have achieved some sort of peace. He has a number of investments up and running, internet ventures that he believes in. They're no Facebook, but they are good, solid ideas, and Eduardo is proud to be involved with them. He's just ended a six month relationship, amicably, with a pretty blonde named Stephanie. Stephanie is a teacher, she never made Eduardo feel small, but she never made Eduardo feel much of anything else either. But Eduardo was glad that he was with her. It was a happy, healthy relationship, which ended when it needed too, both parties getting out with their lives still intact. Eduardo was glad to be reminded that relationships like that still existed.

He sips tentatively at his morning coffee, thumbing through business e-mails on his phone, and starts to plan his day. It's the weekend, and he's been working so hard recently that he's decided to give himself a day off. He notes that the pang of guilt usually associated with this decision is softer now.

He sighs happily. It's a pleasant day, and he plans to walk along the marina, maybe read a book or see the new exhibit at the Lukisan, but then he sees Mark walking down the street opposite and he chokes on his coffee, burning his mouth.

He stares at the figure. It's definitely Mark. He's wearing a hoody and flip-flops like he did at Harvard, and his eyes are narrow and accusing. Eduardo lets out an involuntary snigger at Mark's obvious disdain for this strange, foreign country. He watches Mark as he goes by, taking a left and disappearing from view.

Eduardo is shaking. He leaves his coffee, grabs his bag and marches back home.

Once inside, he pulls out his phone, skimming through his contacts until he finds Hughes, Chris. He's microseconds away from hitting dial before he stops. He puts the phone down, and takes a breath.

It's okay he tells himself It's alright. It doesn't matter why Mark is here, because it isn't anything to do with Facebook. If it was, you would know about it. So it's either personal, or it's another business venture, but most importantly it is not. Your. Concern. Just relax, Wardo. It's okay.

He breathes a little easier. He feels slightly embarrassed, thankful he didn't subject Chris to a hysterical phone call or voicemail. He feels antsy and on edge, so he grabs some clothes and heads to the gym.


Fill; The Body Says No 2b/? - (Anonymous), 2011-06-12 06:22 am (UTC)(Expand)
Anon!Author - (Anonymous), 2011-06-12 06:35 am (UTC)(Expand)

Fill; The Body Says No 3a/?


The stare at each other silently for a moment. Eduardo can't breathe. Mark just stands there, like they haven't spent the last year fastidiously ignoring each other.

Eventually Eduardo speaks.

"What're you doing here?" he rasps. His mouth is dry.

Mark shrugs. "I was invited."

"This is for the Singapore Cancer Society." Eduardo enunciates. "You're not even from Singapore!"

"Neither are you." Mark retorts.

Eduardo gapes, disbelieving. He's speechless, and he's disorientated and he's so confused. He turns back to the bar and puts his head in his hands, praying that this is a caipirinha induced hallucination. He feels Mark settle down next to him.

"A beer." Mark tells Jake, and Eduardo stares at him, trying to figure out if Mark is suffering from some kind of traumatic brain injury. Mark swigs straight from the bottle and looks at Eduardo.

"How are you?" he asks.

Eduardo blinks. Mark fidgets with the label on the beer bottle.

"I heard your investments are all doing well." Mark tries. "That's good. But you always had an eye for good investments." he adds, ruefully.

"What are you doing here?" Eduardo asks.

"What, I can't go to Singapore if I want, I have to have some fucking ulterior motive? God, Wardo, it's not all about you. You're not the only Facebook billionaire." Mark snaps.

Eduardo recoils like he's been slapped. He downs the caipirinha, and leaves Mark at the bar, striding towards the exit. He hears a scattering of footsteps as Mark follows him.

"Wardo. Wardo, stop. Wardo!" Mark grabs his arm and spins him round.

"Mark, let me go. Let go of my arm, Mark, I mean it. " Eduardo warns.

"No. No, I'm not letting you go, I have to tell you something, okay? I'm sorry I snapped at you. Just wait, okay,wait."

"Mark, I mean it, let go of me right now-"

"Wardo, I need to talk to you-"


"-it's important."

"For God's sake Mark!" Eduardo shouts, startling a few guests, who peer round and begin to whisper among themselves. Eduardo really doesn't need Mark ruining his reputation on another continent, so he disengages himself forcefully from Mark's grip, and heads towards the bathroom, Mark following quickly behind.

The bathroom is deserted, and Eduardo paces the room, raking his had through his hair agitatedly. When he feels more in control of himself, he looks at Mark, who is staring stubbornly at the floor.

"What did you need to tell me? You better tell me quickly, Mark, or I'm leaving and I won't see you again."

"Okay." Mark hisses, irritated, his eyes meeting Eduardo's. "But this isn't going to be easy for me, so, a little compassion here? Please?"

Eduardo's intrigued. He hardly ever says please. Mark takes a deep breath and continues.

"I came to Singapore, and tonight, because I knew you'd be here. I wanted to see you. Because I wanted to tell you that, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let you sign those papers. I did it because I was angry at you, and jealous of… and jealous. That isn't an excuse, it's an explanation. But I put your name back on the masthead, and I thought you'd understand what that meant. But then you were in Singapore, and I waited for you to come back, but you didn't, so i came here, and… I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Wardo."

Mark sighs deeply and rubs his palm across the back of his neck. Eduardo is stunned.

"Mark, I… I don't understand."

"Jesus, It's an apology Wardo, even you're not that idiotic."

Eduardo grits his teeth, but ultimately let's it go.

"Mark, I haven't seen you in a year. And now you, you, you blindside me with this… apology? Which doesn't make sense because, you clearly weren't jealous of me, Mark, you had everything, you know, your way, and I was obviously being left… you know what, never mind. You just… you weren't jealous. And what was I supposed to think, that the masthead was an apology? My name deserves to be there Mark! That's not an apology! That's fair, that's just!" Eduardo finishes.

Fill; The Body Says No 3b/? - (Anonymous), 2011-06-13 05:32 am (UTC)(Expand)
Fill; The Body Says No 3c/? - (Anonymous), 2011-06-13 05:35 am (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Fill; The Body Says No 3c/? - mauralee88, 2011-06-13 06:21 pm (UTC)(Expand)

Fill; The Body Says No 4a/?

A/N: I just wanted to explain a little about the story, since at the moment, it seems to be as far from the prompt as possible.

When I read the prompt, I had this image in my head of a moment between the two of them. And the story is leading up to that moment. So it will take a while, but the original prompt will be in here at some point.

I hope you are still liking the story. Thank you all for your lovely comments, they are so kind, and they make me feel a lot more confident in my writing. So thank you again.

Anyway, that's all, on with the fill!



Eduardo lets out a shaky laugh, and Mark's mouth twists into a smirk. Eduardo swallows. He suddenly feels incredibly nervous, like the first time he woke up in the suite in Harvard, with Mark's head on his lap. Mark pushes him away gently.

"Where's your bedroom?"

"God, you're smooth." Eduardo scoffs. "It's, uh, it's this way." he gestures, and Mark heads out into the hall.

As he leads Mark up the stairs, he has the distinct feeling that he's being stared at. He turns on the landing and looks down at Mark, still on the stairs.

"Were you checking out my ass?" he smiles.

"Yes. You have a fantastic ass, Wardo, it's actually kind of unfair."

Eduardo is glad it's dark in the house, because he's pretty sure his face just turned a shocking shade of pink. He clears his throat.

"It's just here." he mumbles.


Mark sounds so calm, and Eduardo's mind races with the idea that maybe Mark planned this. Like maybe he's been thinking about doing this for a long time. Like this really wasn't some spontaneous act of madness. He doesn't remember when this spark of doubt began, but now they're in his bedroom, and Mark is taking off his shoes and socks like this is the most natural thing in the world, and suddenly Eduardo's train of thought derails completely. This is really happening.

"Come on, Wardo." Mark's voice breaks the silence. Eduardo copies Mark's previous action, and then they both shrug off their jackets. Mark lets his slither carelessly to the floor, while Eduardo folds his, going to drape it over the back of his armchair. He turns back, and gasps in surprise. Mark is right in front of him, and his eyes are glinting.

Mark's hands come up to Eduardo's throat, and he kisses him, open-mouthed and slow. All Eduardo can hear is the sound of them breathing, he quick and shallow, Mark harsher, more desirous. Mark unhurriedly undoes the buttons of Eduardo's shirt, untucking it from his pants, before pushing it off his shoulders. It drops to the floor and then Mark's hands are trailing down his arms, travelling across his chest as he presses up against Eduardo, never breaking their kiss.

Eduardo reaches blindly for Mark's tie, undoing it clumsily, not bothering to remove it before he starts opening Mark's shirt. He hasn't the self-control to go as slow as Mark, especially now Mark has his hips flush against Eduardo's, his arousal evident. Eduardo pulls away from Mark, frantically unfastening the last of the buttons and pulling the shirt roughly from Mark's back. Mark gasps.

Eduardo kisses him fiercely, all tongue and teeth and heavy breathing. Mark fumbles with Eduardo's belt buckle as Eduardo scrapes his fingernails down Mark's back. Soon, Mark's hand is slipping down the front of his boxers and Eduardo cries out at the first touch of skin to skin.

"Fuck, Wardo." Marks says, awed.

Eduardo buries his face in Mark's neck, as Mark begins to jerk him steadily. His touch is sure and confident, and he reads Eduardo's moans and sighs so well. He does this thing with his wrist that makes Eduardo bite down on the juncture between Mark's neck and shoulder. Mark cries out when he does, and his hand stops moving.

"Jesus." he hisses.

"Are you okay?" Eduardo asks, concerned.

"Yeah." Mark breathes. "Yeah." He pulls back from Eduardo and his eyes are so dark.

Fill; The Body Says No 4b/? - (Anonymous), 2011-06-15 12:19 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Fill; The Body Says No 4b/? - (Anonymous), 2011-06-15 12:21 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Fill; The Body Says No 4d/? - (Anonymous), 2011-06-15 12:22 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Fill; The Body Says No 4d/? - (Anonymous), 2011-06-15 02:02 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Fill; The Body Says No 4d/? - mathab, 2011-06-15 02:14 pm (UTC)(Expand)

Fill; The Body Says No 5a/?


Morning comes, and Eduardo stretches lazily, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the sunlight. Mark isn't there. Eduardo chews on his lip. Last night was amazing. Last night was more than he'd ever hoped a night like that could be.

But last night wasn't perfect.

I love you. I love you.

I know. I know.

It reverberates in his skull, repeating itself incessantly. He feels sick.

He apologised. Eduardo reminds himself. He apologised, and he said he has feelings for you. And this is Mark. He's never been good at talking about stuff like this. The knot in his stomach begins to unravel.

Maybe he needs time. He'll say it, he will. He just needs some time. Jesus, you had to move to another country and ignore him for a year before he even admitted the feelings part. Just be patient, Wardo. He'll say it. He will.

He takes a deep breath. He feels okay.

He climbs out of the bed, grabbing a clean pair of boxers and stepping into them. He rubs his eyes, and stumbles downstairs.

Mark is standing in his kitchen, reaching up to grab a fresh pack of coffee grounds from a cupboard. He's right on his tiptoes, and he can barely reach. He's wearing a pair of Eduardo's boxers, and Eduardo can't help but find him completely adorable. Even more so when Mark makes a little sound of triumph as he finally manages to get his hands on the troublesome package.

He goes to Mark, and stands behind him with his hands on Mark's narrow hips. Mark leans into him.

"Good morning." he says, kissing Mark's cheek. Mark smiles.

"I was going to make you coffee." Mark tells him, turning around.

"Wow. You can make coffee?"

"Well, I haven't ever before, but… it can't be that hard." Mark shrugs. Eduardo shakes his head.


"You're ridiculous, Mark."


Mark kisses him, and Eduardo smiles uncontrollably. The kiss turns wanting, and Eduardo can't help crowding Mark against the counter, rolling his hips against Mark's.

Mark pulls away, and says, breathlessly "You want to? Here?". Eduardo shrugs.

"Why not?"

"It just seems a little unsanitary." Mark wrinkles his nose. Eduardo bites his lip and moves even closer.

"You really want to, don't you?" Mark sounds disbelieving. He leans in and whispers "You still have my come on your stomach."

Eduardo's knees buckle.


Fill; The Body Says No 5b/? - (Anonymous), 2011-06-17 12:48 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Fill; The Body Says No 5b/? - xbriyeon, 2011-06-17 07:45 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Fill; The Body Says No 5b/? - skyearth85, 2011-06-18 07:52 am (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Fill; The Body Says No 5b/? - janonny, 2011-06-19 08:04 am (UTC)(Expand)

Fill; The Body Says No 6a/?


Mark books the flights while Eduardo is working. He manages to see three out of his five clients in person, drafting incredibly apologetic e-mails to the remaining two. Christian promises that he will keep an eye on everything while he's away, and swears he will book a flight back to Singapore himself, if anything terrible happens.

He opts to walk back to his house. The evening is balmy and the air is sweet. He walks slower than usual, ambling even, reluctant to get back to Mark.

It isn't that he's fallen out of love with Mark. If anything, he is too much in love with him. He was so in love with Mark that he never stopped to think that Mark would viciously cut him out of his own company. And, yes, it's true that Mark apologised, and explained, but it still happened. It happened, and it will always be a part of them. And the fact that Mark did it, even though he felt for Eduardo, will always remind Eduardo that love isn't a guarantee.

This could all turn to shit, any second, and you know it.

His heart is so heavy by the time he reaches his front door. But when he sees Mark waiting for him at the top of the stairs, in nothing but a towel, all his worries seem to rush far away.

Mark smirks as Eduardo drops his bag, stumbling over his own feet to take his shoes off. He undoes a minimal amount of buttons, and wrenches his shirt over his head. He can't take his eyes off Mark, and Mark looks like he knows it. Like he likes it, his eyes a little predatory around the corners. Mark turns and saunters towards the bedroom, as Eduardo bounds up the stairs.

Mark backs away from him, head tilted, biting his lip like a tease. Eduardo wriggles out of his trousers and boxer briefs, almost falling flat on his face in his haste to get to Mark. He is panting by the time he gets his hands on him, tugging off Mark's towel and kissing him forcefully. Mark bows backwards, making Eduardo chase him, and Eduardo growls low in his throat. He straightens up, and grabs Mark under his thighs, lifting him up with complete ease. Mark was always feather light, but Eduardo never expected him to allow himself to be taken, and manhandled, and maybe, one day, used. The thought makes him grip Mark harder, and Mark makes a breathy noise of want against his lips.

He walks them slowly over to the bed, Mark rubbing himself up against Eduardo's stomach, and kissing him desperately. They collapse clumsily on the bed, and Mark immediately wriggles out from under him, going to get the condom and lube from the nightstand. Eduardo had never kept them there before. It seemed presumptuous and common, but Mark has no such qualms. On days like today it seems like a better idea than Facebook, because it means Eduardo can kiss up Mark's thighs and start eating him out without having to wait.

Mark lets out a startled cry when Eduardo's tongue runs over his hole. He goes gently at first, lapping long and soft all the way up and down the cleft of his ass. Mark's hands are clenched into fists, one gripping the sheets, and one wrapped around the condom and bottle of lube. He's completely entranced, eyes closed and mouth half open. Eduardo loves it when he's like this, he loves to be reminded how dumb he can render Mark, no code, no Facebook running through his brain. Just Eduardo and everything he's doing to him.

Fill; The Body Says No 6b/? - (Anonymous), 2011-06-19 02:06 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Fill; The Body Says No 6b/? - skyearth85, 2011-06-20 10:38 am (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Fill; The Body Says No 6b/? - nlovers, 2011-06-22 12:39 pm (UTC)(Expand)

Fill; The Body Says No 7a/?

A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful response to this fic! Honestly, when you quote from it I go all gooey and sort of hopeless for a while. I hope you like this next part.


Their flight is at ten, so the alarm goes off at six thirty. Eduardo stumbles, bleary eyed, to the en-suite, to pee. Mark joins him while he's drying his hands, peering into the mirror and examining the mark that Eduardo made on his neck.

"Jesus Christ, Wardo!" Mark shouts, exasperated, pulling at the skin to see the bruise from every angle. Eduardo is quite pleased with himself. The mark is a livid reddish purple, high enough on Mark's neck that nothing in his wardrobe will cover it.

"Everyone will see this, Wardo. What, you couldn't control yourself for five seconds?" Mark stalks out of the bathroom, and Eduardo hears him storming down the stairs. He feels nauseous, anxious, like he's in a meeting he hasn't prepared for. He takes a deep breath, but it doesn't do anything to ease the ominous swirling in his stomach. He climbs into the shower.

Once he's clean and dry, he puts on something comfortable. Mark insisted he'd pack for him, but Eduardo begged Christian to come and check over the luggage while he was in meetings. Eduardo has never met anyone who understands how he likes thing as well as Christian. Although he thinks it has a lot to do with the fact that Christian is paid to know these things.

He pads down the stairs, desperate for a coffee and hoping Mark hasn't got to the espresso machine before him. As he enters the room, Mark flounces past him like an angry teenager and, after a minute or two, Eduardo can hear the shower running again. He digs his fingernails into his palm.

Mark stays upstairs until the car comes, and Eduardo doesn't try to talk to him. They ride to the airport in silence, and it's only until they're waiting in the first class lounge that Eduardo attempts conversation.

"I'm sorry. About the…" he gestures to Mark's neck, and Mark shifts uncomfortably, adjusting the headphones around his throat as if they'll make the bruise less noticeable.

"I didn't mean-" Eduardo starts, but Mark cuts him off.

"Don't, Wardo. Don't lie." his eyes flash and Eduardo feels small. He clears his throat.

"I just… I think I got a little carried away, you know, in the moment. But, umm…" he reaches over to cover Mark's hand with his. "I think- I wanted people to know…That you're… with me." he finishes on a whisper, not meeting Mark's eyes.

His thumb tracks to and fro on the back of Mark's hand. Mark shakes him off, and he clenches his fists in his lap, worrying.

"It's okay. I… It's okay." Mark murmurs. Eduardo risks a look, and Mark's mouth is twisted into something that looks like a smirk. He attempts one in response.


The flight is uneventful. They drink, Mark codes, out of habit, nothing important, and Eduardo reads. They leave at ten, fly eighteen hours, and arrive at one in the afternoon. California is sun kissed and warm, like Eduardo remembers, but he's too jet lagged and disoriented to appreciate the change in weather. He and Mark stumble into a car, and then into Mark's house, and Eduardo feels sick.

"I'm going to stay up." Mark tells him. Eduardo's too tired to try and dissect any inflections present in his speech. He nods stupidly.

"Bedroom's second on the right." Mark tells him, and Eduardo staggers up the stairs, locating the room and collapsing onto a sizeable bed, too overcome with sleep to fantasise about anything exotic.

Fill; The Body Says No 7b/? - (Anonymous), 2011-06-23 04:38 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Fill; The Body Says No 7c/? - (Anonymous), 2011-06-23 04:39 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Fill; The Body Says No 7c/? - (Anonymous), 2011-06-23 04:46 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Fill; The Body Says No 7c/? - xbriyeon, 2011-06-23 08:58 pm (UTC)(Expand)

Fill; The Body Says No 8a/?

A/N: This part took me so long to write, and I'm still not 100% happy with it. Your comments are like happy crack to me, I'm so glad I can write you something you like! I hope this is up to your standards.


Eduardo kisses him, and Mark kisses back as they touch each other feverishly. Eduardo twists Mark's curls between his fingers, and Mark swears, and their kiss keeps getting filled with water, and it's rushed and uneven and wonderful.

"We should- we should go inside. You know, before one of us drowns." Mark says, a little short of breath. Eduardo makes a noise of assent, and tries to keep kissing Mark as they flounder towards the steps. Eduardo goes first, groaning as he feels the dead weight of his muscles. He flops down onto a sun lounger, and Mark looks at him quizzically.

"Tired." Eduardo mumbles.

"It's okay. I want to do all the work anyway."

Eduardo shivers. Mark climbs on top of him, tracing the dips and curves in his arms, his chest, his stomach. He smooths his thumbs over Eduardo's collarbones whispers something under his breath.

Eduardo pulls him down for a kiss. It's always exciting, kissing Mark. It's like he's sixteen again. It's like falling, every single time, like being drugged or brainwashed. There isn't anything but Mark's lips and Mark's tongue, and a hunger for more. It's like a blessing.

He's hard, and so is Mark. Mark's grinding down onto him, slow, tantalising circles that upset his rhythm against Mark's lips. Soon, his hips are lifting to meet Mark halfway, and he's pulling at Mark's neck, desperate to be closer to him.

"Mark. Please." he hisses into the night.

Mark nods quickly, and sits back on his heels. He struggles out of his boxers, throwing them carelessly onto the deck. They land with a splat, and Eduardo giggles. Then Mark's fingers are at his hole and he falls silent.

Mark runs his index finger along the cleft of Eduardo's ass again and again. Eduardo tries to press into the touch, but Mark is teasing, watching him suffer with a smile quirking the corner of his lips.

"Mark." Eduardo gets out through gritted teeth. Mark smirks, and presses one finger against Eduardo's opening.

He's wet, and Mark's hand is wet, but there's still so much resistance. Eduardo makes every effort to relax, but as Mark pushes inside, he can't help but yelp a little, gripping Mark's forearm at the unexpected rise of pain.

"Fuck, Wardo." Mark trembles.

Mark opens him, so much slower than he usually goes, but it still hurts. It isn't unbearable, so Eduardo says nothing. It feels like his first time, pain clouded with desire, a desperate need for more and less, a point of clarity and incertitude. The pain dulls to a soft ache, and Mark slides in another finger, twisting and scissoring with the utmost care, slowing when he hears Eduardo gasp or whine.

Eduardo's spine arcs of it's own accord as Mark's fingers ghost over his prostate. He is held firmly down as they slide carefully out of him, and Mark comes up to his lips to deliver a bruising kiss.

"Let's go inside." he speaks against Eduardo's mouth. Eduardo shakes his head, gasping wantonly.

"Okay. Okay." Mark assures him. He pulls back, resting his forehead against Eduardo's. They're both panting. "I'll be right back."

"No, no." Eduardo whines, mouthing at Mark's jaw.

"W-Wardo, we need… oh, God… we need stuff…" Mark mumbles. Eduardo is frenzied, scratching lines into Mark's back and arms, scraping his teeth down Mark's jaw, trying to make him understand.

"No. No, we don't." He whispers, in a voice unlike his own. He reaches between them, palming Mark's cock until Mark collapses onto his forearms.

"Now, do it now. Come on, Mark, do it." Eduardo begs. Mark is shaking his head, eyes averted from Eduardo's face.

"I want you to… Mark… I'm ready, I am… Mark… I want it. I want it. I need it… come on, Mark, fuck me…fuck me. Mark, come on… come on." Words gush from Eduardo's mouth, endlessly repeating and reforming, trying to find the key to breaking Mark's resolve.

Mark's face is buried in his neck and he's making these helpless unsure noises. Eduardo can feel him losing control, and he searches for the enchanted phrase that will tip him over the edge.

Fill; The Body Says No 8b/? - (Anonymous), 2011-06-28 08:19 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Fill; The Body Says No 8c/? - (Anonymous), 2011-06-28 08:21 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Fill; The Body Says No 8c/? - xbriyeon, 2011-06-28 10:51 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Fill; The Body Says No 8c/? - (Anonymous), 2011-07-19 01:06 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Author here! - (Anonymous), 2011-07-21 08:52 am (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Author here! - (Anonymous), 2011-07-21 09:33 am (UTC)(Expand)