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It's raining.
Christ- It's raining.
In Palo Alto.
It's pouring actually, cloudy droplets falling onto his once coiffed hair as he walks up to the door, anger pulsing in his veins.
It's raining, and all he wants is to kill Mark.
The door opens to Sean Parker, holding what looks like two spiked lemonades and a cordless phone propped upon his shoulder.
"Eduardo!" Sean shouts, putting down the drinks and pulling him through the door. "The man of the hour!"
The two very obviously high girls in the living room don't even notice his presence as Sean closes the door behind him. He looks around.
"Where's Mark?" He doesn't get an answer but Dustin calls out a loud 'Wardo!' from the other side of the room. The first familiar face he can see in this house that isn’t Mark.
"Hey man."
A hand comes down on his shoulder, pulling him around to face the mystery person.
What is with people and grabbing him unexpectedly today?
"Wardo," Mark says, and he's smiling. Eduardo can even see his dimples in the soft light as he struggles to respond, hearing Sean talk in the background about something.
"You gotta- the wall," Mark starts to say, the slur of his words very pronounced. The usual bright blue eyes Eduardo was used to staring at are dull and glassy, and he can't figure out if he is just exhausted or-
or drunk.
Flashes of the Kirkland dorm come back unbidden to his mind, memories of how Mark would barely drink enough to actually get.. well, drunk. Nothing like how Dustin would overdo it and regret everything the next day, or how he and Chris would get reasonably drunk before passing out in their respective beds.
Mark always held himself back in that regard, saying the buzz was enough.
There was a silence between both of them before Mark remembered what he was going to say, a spaced-out smile finally reappearing on his usually expressionless face.
A loud crash of thunder breaks him away from that particular train of thought as Sean begins to talk in that particular grating voice, making him turn away from Mark's faraway gaze.
"Forget the wall, tell him about our meeting with Peter Thiel!"
All Eduardo wants to do is punch Sean into next week.
"Peter Thiel?" The question is on his lips as he turns to Mark, growing ever so slightly angrier.
Mark shrugs, looking more excited about the wall than an actual investment. "He might...want to make an investment."
Sean interjects. "Half a million dollars, baby!"
The rain pours harder as Eduardo whips back around, not realizing they're starting to get an audience. Even Chris has entered the room at this point, positioning himself right beside Dustin.
"Why are you setting up meetings?" Eduardo asks, dropping his bags.
"Because you aren't here!" Sean replies, looking indignant. "Come here and set them up yourself, you asshole!"
Chris finally intervenes, putting himself in-between Sean and Eduardo. "Look, you've had a long flight-"
"No, I-" He shuts up when he realizes Chris is standing right in front of him, not Sean or god forbid Mark.
He shakes his head before he's being pushed by Chris into a hallway, Mark in tow.
"Mark, show him where a bedroom is and let him sleep before he kills either Sean or you," Chris says before slamming the door behind him.
Mark stares for a second before turning back to Eduardo, a hungry look in his eyes.
There isn't even a second to speak before Mark moves towards him.
"You're drunk," Eduardo gasps as Mark pushes him against a wall, immediately leaning in to pepper kisses along his jawline.
The only thing he gets in response is a shrug as his jacket is pulled off his shivering shoulders, immediately warmed by Mark's callused hands.
God, his hands feel so good.
"I know," Mark says plainly, reaching up to capture Eduardo's lips.
"You're drunk -" Eduardo says sternly, pushing Mark away from him.
Mark scrunches up his nose. "I'm fine," He whines. Eduardo can't help but growl. Sean was so dead.
"Sean got you drunk, didn't he?" Eduardo asked, leading Mark to the bedroom that was closest. To his luck, it was Mark's room, judging by the fact there was just a mattress lying on the floor and some clothes scattered around.
"No," Mark's breath catches, looking up towards the ceiling. "Coding binge. You saw the wall?"
They both crash towards the floor as Mark completely gives up on walking, only somewhat landing on the mattress.
*No, Mark," Eduardo sighs, helping Mark get out of his hoodie. "Haven't seen the wall yet."
Mark makes grabby hands at Eduardo to come closer, his breath reeking of beer and whiskey.
When the hell did he start drinking whiskey?
Mark drags him down to meet his lips and starts making out with him again, his long fingers attempting to unbutton his collar.
" No," Eduardo says firmly, pulling Mark's hands away. He almost hates how good Mark is at doing that.
"But, Wardo," Mark says, actually tearing up. "Stay."
Eduardo can feel his breath catch in his throat as Mark turns away, looking miserable. The moonlight illuminates them as Eduardo stays silent, wrapping a duvet around them and lying down.
"Not like this," he sighs, burying his head against Mark's shoulder blade. "Not while you're drunk."
Silence fills the room as they both lay still, Mark clinging to Eduardo like a security blanket. The warmth of the outside room didn't seem to reach them, as Mark shivered, only partly because he was cold.
"You aren't here," Mark says, and he sounds like a shadow of his usual self. "The connections, the—the," he forgets the word for a second.
"The energy," Mark finally says, rubbing his eyes. "We-" His voice goes lower. "I miss you,"
With almost supernatural timing, thunder crashes overhead them. Mark flinches, surprised by the loud sound.
"Please, don't tell him I said that…" Eduardo doesn’t miss the hitch in Mark's voice, nor the shaking that came with it.
Tell him what?
"You what?" Eduardo breathes out, watching as the lightning flashes outside. If he was being honest, he can’t look Mark in the eye. Not at all.
"I need you, Wardo," If he listens close enough, he can hear a little bit of the old Mark he knows, not the one who’s drunk off his ass.
There's a beat before Mark whispers something into Eduardo's ear, soft and almost inaudible under the pounding rain.
"I love you," Mark says in a small voice, only quavering just a little bit. "Always have, always will."
Eduardo stills.
"Mark, you don't…" He tries to say as a lump gets caught in his throat, cursing everything. "You don't mean that.. do you?"
Mark nods his head and buries himself into Eduardo's chest.
"D-don't screw around with me now," Eduardo’s own tears come unbidden to his eyes.
There's no way Mark would lie. Not about something like this. He swallows before tangling a hand in Mark's hair, closing his eyes.
He… he loves me.
He's so sure Mark can hear the rapid beating of his heart, feel the way his hand shakes as Mark slowly falls asleep to the sensation of Eduardo running his hand through soft curls.
The rain finally stopped around 4 am, leaving just Eduardo and his thoughts. Mark had slipped into oblivion long ago.
"I won't leave you, Mark," Eduardo murmurs, allowing a single tear to slip from his eye.
I promise.
--
What the fuck did I drink last night?
Mark groans as he slowly sits up, a headache pounding just behind his eyes. Nausea also permeates his system, the entire world about to spin.
"Eduardo?" He rasps, reaching to the other side of the mattress. All he finds is a bottle of Advil already mostly unscrewed and a still cold water bottle, alongside a charging phone that looks suspiciously like his own.
Mark takes a second to down the pills before checking his phone, finding a message from Eduardo.
"Mark. I had to go back to New York to tie up some loose ends with Christy and some advertisers. I'll be back in a few days.”
There’s a break in the text as another message was sent. "This time, pick me up from the airport, okay?"
His heart skips a beat as he reads the last message, realizing something very important.
"-Love, Wardo. :)"
Last night hit him like a brick as he fell back onto the bed, a soft sigh escaping his chapped lips.
Yeah, I’ll be there. I promise.