old roads i go down 2/2

[faketales]

Part 1

***


Eduardo wants to stay awake just to spite Chris but he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow in what passes as Mark’s guest room.  It’s really just a mattress on the floor and a private bathroom, but Eduardo hadn’t felt right about accepting Mark’s offer of his own room.  So he sleeps, still wearing Mark’ sweatshirt, which he’d slipped back on after a quick shower, and dreams of nothing.

When he wakes up three hours later he wanders downstairs to find Chris and Mark at the kitchen table.  Chris is typing away on his laptop with one hand while his other scrolls through something on his phone.  Mark has a notebook in front of him and is idly scrawling something when he sees Eduardo watching.  His whole face lights up with a smile for a brief moment until it dulls down and he looks away.  “You’re awake.  I’m so bored.  Chris won’t give me a computer.”

Chris snorts.  “I’m not stupid enough to let you hack anything.  Even four years ago you were better than any programmer we have now and I don’t know how long it’d take to undo any chaos you cause.”

“I don’t even need to visit Facebook, I could just hack into my own bank accounts or something.”  Mark waves the notebook in Eduardo’s direction.  “He gave me this when I asked if I could code.  Can you believe him?  It’s like we’re living in the dark ages.”

The sight of the doodles makes Eduardo flash back to the deposition days, when Mark was too busy sketching random creatures to look Eduardo in the eyes.  He’s still not sure if that would make things easier or harder.

“We should do something, assuming we’re allowed to.”  Mark kicks Chris in the shins.  “Are we allowed to do something?”

“Ow.  And yes, as long as you don’t leave the house.”

“Great!”  Mark bounces to his feet and stares expectantly at Eduardo.  “What should we do?”

“Umm...” Eduardo racks his brain for the fun things they’d done in college, but everything he comes up with involved computers, alcohol, or both, and that’s not too helpful.  “I guess we could watch a movie?”

“I’m pretty sure that Mark doesn’t own any movies.  And he doesn’t have cable.”

“I probably just like living an ascetic lifestyle, like a monk or something,” Mark offers when Eduardo turns to stare incredulously at him.

“No, you’re a workaholic freak who doesn’t know how to find the exit of his office,” Chris counters.

Eduardo can picture this, can picture Mark not leaving the office for days, not even sleeping at all, just working nonstop until he breaks down.  He’d once been able to coax Mark into bed with enough prodding, but it seems no one can do that now, or at least no one tries.

“I’ve got some movies on my laptop.  We can try hooking it up to your TV and watch through that.” 

“Excellent.  I may not have frying pans but I’ve got a whole bunch of cords in a box upstairs.  I’m sure one of them will be the right one.”  He runs out of the room and Chris reaches out a hand to stop Eduardo when he starts to follow.

“Keep an eye on him.  Maybe you should disable the wifi on your laptop.”

Eduardo rolls his eyes.  “Because that would really slow him down.”  He walks out to the front hallway and retrieves his bags from where Dustin had dropped them the night before.  Some papers fall out when he pulls out his laptop but he shoves them back inside before he can feel guilty about them.  He’d created a family emergency that he’d had to leave work for, grateful that he isn’t close enough to anyone for his true relationship with his parents, with his father, to be known.  No one had seemed concerned by his impending absence and he’d been gone for all of five minutes when he’d started wondering if he should even return.

“Here.”  Mark is back in the living room, dropping a handful of cords onto the coffee table.  “Let me see the output slots on your laptop.”

Eduardo sits back and watches while Mark manhandles his computer.  He checks through his suitcase and determines that he has enough clothing for three days and then he either has to return home or do laundry.  He almost asks about whether Mark even has a washing machine but doesn’t when he realizes that he probably won’t know.  He’ll figure something out.

Of course, it’ll all be irrelevant if he just keeps wearing Mark’s sweatshirt.

“Here.”  Mark pushes the laptop over to Eduardo and walks on his knees over to the TV to plug some cord in.  “When the box pops up, click continue.”

Eduardo watches at the script moving rapidly down the screen and then glances up at Mark.  He’s sitting on the coffee table pushing buttons on the remote, that same familiar look of concentration on his face.  He’s lost to the world even on this simple task and it reminds him of old games to draw Mark’s attention to him, increasing his volume until he finally shook out of his semi-conscious state to turn around.  Of course, it had escalated to a breaking point that literally involved things being broken.

“Mark,” he says now, in a low voice, just like old times.

Mark peers back over his shoulder.  “What?”

Eduardo allows himself a small grin before shaking his head.  “Nothing.”  So Mark simply hasn’t built up an immunity to his interruptions yet.  Interesting.


“Did the box pop up yet?”

Eduardo looks down at the computer and sees the prompt box waiting for his response.  He fumbles to press the keypad.  “Sorry.”

“Guys?” Chris pops his head into the living room.  “I’m heading to the office to work on some things.  I don’t know that I’ll be back, but I think Dustin’s planning to pick up some Chinese for dinner.  You want him to bring you some?”

Eduardo looks over at Mark, once again not listening.  “Sure.”

“See you tomorrow then.  Call me if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

Mark reaches back for the laptop and begins typing furiously.  Eduardo lifts his foot to nudge against the outside of Mark’s thigh.  “I’m surprised it’s taking you so long,” he teases.


Mark doesn’t look up, but his face tightens as he scowls.  “I’m not used to any of this equipment or anything like it because technology changes a lot in four years.”

“Hey, I’m just kidding you.  You look like you’re having fun.”

Mark makes a noise that sounds like agreement.  “Did I hear Chris talking?”


“He was just leaving, but Dustin’s going to swing by with Chinese for dinner.”

“Yay, maybe he’ll accuse me of being an alien next.”  A few quick keystrokes and Mark is shooting a smug look at Eduardo.  “Ready.  What movies do you have?”

They’re halfway through Spider-Man when Mark’s fidgeting gets to be too much for Eduardo.  He pauses the movie.  “Don’t like the movie?”

Mark shrugs and picks at a loose thread on his sleeve.  “It’s just- It was more fun to set it up.”

Eduardo laughs so loud that Mark’s eyes narrow.  “Some things never change.  You never did know how to relax.”

Mark drops his arm and looks away from Eduardo.  “You probably have work you should be doing.  Chris said you work for an investing firm.”

“Yeah, but I told them I had a family emergency so they won’t be expecting anything just yet.”

“Does your family know where you are?”

Now Eduardo wishes he had a loose thread to play with.  “We don’t really talk anymore.  My dad thinks that the mess at my own fault and that I never should have let it get to the point where I sued you.”

“I’m sorry,” Mark whispers.

Eduardo shrugs.  “It’s not your fault.  Things weren’t too great before that.”

Mark stretches out on the couch, his back pressing against Eduardo’s shoulder.  “I guess I don’t talk to my family that much.  No one’s called for me since I got back from the hospital.”

“Mmh.”  It’s really hard to concentrate with Mark’s curls brushing against his neck every time he moves.  He’s struck with a strong desire to brush his hand through his hair, but he doesn’t know where that’s coming from.

Mark sighs.  “Let’s finish the movie.”  He gets up to press play again and then returns to the same position when he sits down, pressing hard against Eduardo’s shoulder for a brief moment before relaxing.


***


They finish the movie and then the doctor calls to talk to Mark about symptoms and headaches.  He insists that he’s fine and she says that he can probably sleep through the night, although it wouldn’t be overkill to wake him up once to check on things.  Eduardo patiently listens to the list of warning signs to look out for, quickly checking for them as he jots them down.

“And finally, please don’t try to induce any head trauma yourselves.”

Eduardo’s brow furrows.  “Excuse me?”

The doctor sighs.  “Sometimes people think that the best way to cure amnesia is to recreate their original injury, and I cannot stress how bad it would be for Mark to get hit in the head with another ball.  I think any damage then would be irreversible.”

“We won’t do anything like that.  Don’t worry.”

Eduardo forces Mark to eat some fruit in the afternoon, and then they settle in to watch Spider-Man 2.  Mark props his feet up in Eduardo’s lap and falls asleep fifteen minutes after they’ve started.  Eduardo lets the movie go and when it finishes he stays seated, his hand resting lightly on Mark’s ankle, and just lets things be. 

Dustin turns up not long after that, taking two trips into the house to drop off everything he’s brought.  Mark wakes up as soon as the front door opens, his feet falling off the couch, and Eduardo scrambles to turn on a light in the now dark house.  As Dustin takes in the two of them on the couch he smirks.  “So what’s up with you guys?”

“We fell asleep while watching a movie,” Eduardo answers quickly, hoping Mark doesn’t know that he’d been awake the whole time.  There’s no way to justify that.

“Uh-huh.  I’ve got Chinese for dinner, and Chris sent out an intern to pick up some other stuff for you guys.  You should have seen how awkward that was.”

“What kind of stuff?” Eduardo asks as he wanders into the kitchen.  He starts digging through the bags on the table.  “Ooh, a frying pan.  And some pots.  We can have some real food now.”

“There are a bunch of DVD’s and some new video games.  Mark should have a some game systems stashed around here.”

Mark walks into the kitchen, sleepily rubbing his eyes.  “I think there’s a Gamecube in my room.  It’s got its insides yanked out but I could probably put it back together.”  His eyes brighten as he speaks and Eduardo lets out a small sigh of relief.  At least there are more things for him to fix.

“Chris said you took a nap this morning.  You must be really tired.”

Eduardo keeps his gaze on the Chinese food that Dustin is pulling out.  “Yeah, well, the time change and all that.  I’m adjusting.”

Dustin leans close to Eduardo and speaks in a quiet voice.  “Chris said he could get you a hotel night for the room if you want.  We didn’t call you out here to play caretaker 24/7.”

Eduardo glances over Dustin’s shoulder and sees Mark carefully placing chopsticks and plates on the table, his movements slow like his attention is elsewhere.  He can’t be sure if it’s on their conversation or not but Eduardo shakes his head and shoves Dustin away.  “No, no, I’m fine.  We’re fine.  Don’t worry.”

Dustin nods but leans in again.  “Does this mean you’re getting along?”

“Dustin, stop it.  Right now, everything’s okay.  But don’t start putting me back on the masthead because it’s not- because this isn’t real.  He’s not real.”

Dustin sighs and sits down.  Eduardo sits as well and when he looks up Mark refuses to meet his gaze.

“So, Mark,” Dustin says.  “Have you considered the possibility that you’re an alien?”


***


Dinner is strained with Mark snapping at both of them before falling into a sullen silence.  Dustin gives up on conversation and instead watches Eduardo as though waiting for him to crack.  Eduardo knows that Dustin’s going to offer him a way out again but he doesn’t want to hear it because he’s afraid he might say yes.  For now he’d settle for a beer but that had been at the top of the doctor’s restricted list and he’s not mad enough to offer Mark that temptation.  Maybe he’ll have some after Mark falls asleep.  At least he knows that there’s some of that in the house; he’d seen a few bottles stashed behind the endless supply of Red Bull in the fridge.

“I guess I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Dustin says after dinner.  He’s trying to catch Eduardo’s eye, trying to talk to him alone, but Eduardo stays as close to Mark as he can manage.  Dustin finally gives up and leaves without a word, and Mark and Eduardo sit in silence in the kitchen for a few minutes.

“Are you okay?” Eduardo asks after what seems like forever.

“I’m fine,” Mark snaps back.

Eduardo forces himself into Mark’s space, peering closely at his face.  “Are you sure?  You’re looking a little flushed.  The doctor said-”

Mark pushes Eduardo away.  “I said I’m fine.  Let it go.”

“Mark.”

“I am so sick of being treated like a patient.  I’m so sick of being a patient.  You guys are treating me like a burden, and like I’m only half a person.  All that matters is that this body stays warm and that I don’t fuck over some company I don’t remember.”

“Seriously, Mark, your face is red.”

“Because I’m mad!  What’s wrong with you?  You’re worst than the other two.  Sometimes you look like you’ll fall apart if I’m not okay and the rest of the time you’re pulling away because you want me to hate you.  And at the same time you, every part of you, feels so familiar that I can’t imagine that I’ve ever hated you before!”  Mark clutches at the bridge of his nose.  “Also, I have a slight headache but it’s because I’m frustrated, not because of any residual head trauma.  Well, it’s because of the head trauma because I wouldn’t be frustrated without it, but-”

“Mark, it’s okay.  You can still have a painkiller.”

“Thank you.”

Eduardo grabs the pill bottle from the counter and then fills a glass of water.  “Here.”

Mark swallows two painkillers easily and then remains sitting, his eyes closed.

“I think you should go to bed.”

“Okay.”


“In your bed, not on the couch again.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to come check on you at about three.”

Mark nods and disappears upstairs without another word.  Eduardo listens to his footsteps on the stairs and when he hears the shower running he grabs a beer out of the fridge.  There are only a few drops left when he finally allows himself to think about Mark’s words.  The worst part is that he knows he’s right.  Mark’s still a person, even if he’s an unfamiliar one, and he can’t keep treating him like this.  He has to decide if he’s going to accept having his best friend back, albeit temporarily, or forget all of this and move on.  And as much as he’d like to think that it’s a hard decision, he already knows what the answer will be.

He finishes the beer and cleans up from dinner, not allowing himself another beer when he puts the leftovers away.  The first one isn’t doing a whole lot but he can feel warmth from it rolling through him and that should be enough to help him sleep.  He ignores the urge to figure out what time it is in New York, to figure out what nothing he’d be doing by himself if he was home.  No point in doing anything except getting some sleep so he can face Mark again.


***


His phone goes off at 3:30 and he wakes up with a start, falling off the edge of the mattress.  It’s hardly a drop at all but he still feels like he was thrown around.  The beer probably isn’t helping with that.

He stumbles to his face and wanders down the hall to Mark’s room.  The door’s not closed all the way and he pushes it open, squinting into the darkness.  The clock on Mark’s bedside table is bright enough to shadow Mark’s sleeping form but it doesn’t indicate a clear path on the floor.

“I’m awake,” Mark says suddenly, and after a click a lamp next to the clock lights up the room. 

“Oh.  How’s your head?”

“Better.”

“Have you gotten any sleep or have you been awake this whole time?”

“I was asleep.  Then I woke up.”

“Right.”  Eduardo looks at the floor, but he can feel Mark staring at him.  There’s nothing on the floor between him and the bed and the temptation to step forward and curl up in a ball next to Mark is strong.  “I guess I’ll head back to bed.”

“Good night.”  Mark doesn’t move.

Eduardo takes one step away but turns back immediately.  “I’m going to stick with this.  Just so you know.  I’ll be your best friend for as long as this lasts.”

Mark nods.  “You should ask me if I hate you.”

“Um, do you hate me?” Eduardo asks.

“No, not this me.  When I get my memory back.  Even if I remember this and don’t want to answer, you should make me tell you.”

“Okay.”

“Promise that you will.”

“I will.  I promise.”

“Good.”  Mark visibly relaxes against his pillow.  “I’ll see you later.”

“‘Night.”


***


The next day, Mark kisses Eduardo.

They’ve already eaten breakfast and are lingering in the kitchen, talking about putting the Gamecube back together.  Chris had called to say that he and Dustin were heading into the office and might stop by later, but for now they should just sit tight.  He’d sounded tense but Eduardo isn’t worried.  For now he feels good, ignoring the little voice inside his head that keeps reminding him that this won’t last.  He’s still wearing Mark’s sweatshirt, having briefly considered not putting it back on after his shower, but being unable to resist after all.  He’s got his hands in the front pocket and he’s leaning against the counter when Mark presses up against him and slips his hands into the pocket to intertwine his fingers with Eduardo’s.  Eduardo is too stunned to do anything at first but when Mark stands on his toes to press his mouth to Eduardo’s he leans forward to make it easier.

It’s a brief kiss, just long enough for Mark to push his tongue into Eduardo’s mouth and run along his teeth before pulling out.  “Did we ever do this before?” Mark asks against Eduardo’s lips.

Eduardo can’t speak so he just shakes his head.

“Did you ever want to?”

“I, uh, I don’t know.”  He doesn’t know anything right now except the fact that Mark has kissed him and it feels wonderful and it so, so, so very wrong.


Which is why he presses forward to do it again, and Mark responds with so much enthusiasm that it physically hurts Eduardo to pull away and say, “We really shouldn’t do this.  You’re not...”  He bites his bottom lip and looks away.

Mark nods and leans back, but his hands are still in Eduardo’s pocket.  “I guess that this would be going too far, under the circumstances.”  But he places a quick kiss on Eduardo’s cheek before resting his head on Eduardo’s shoulder.  “Maybe you should try this with the other me when he comes back.” 

Eduardo can’t hold back a snort.  “I can’t promise that.  It’s going to be hard enough finding out if you hate me or not.”

Mark finally untangles himself and steps back.  “I guess we should go work on that Gamecube before things get too weird.”

Eduardo is careful not to touch Mark as they walk up the stairs, and his mouth goes dry when he sees the bed.

Too late.


***


The Gamecube is just about working, entirely due to Mark’s effort, because all Eduardo could do was watch Mark’s hands and resist the urge to steal Mark’s attention for himself, when the front door slams and Chris starts shouting.  “Mark!  Wardo!  Where are you guys?”

“We’re upstairs!” Eduardo yells back because it looks like Mark might not hear anything.  He doesn’t move at Eduardo’s words either and he can’t help reaching down to touch the small of Mark’s back.  His head whips up instantly and there’s a dark in his eyes when they meet Eduardo’s.

“Chris is yelling for you.  He sounds upset.”  They run down the stairs and find Chris pacing in the living room, staring down at the phone clutched in his hand.  “What happened?”

Chris points at Mark with the phone.  “Your stupid company is going to give me an ulcer one of the days.  I am too young for ulcers.”

“I’m sorry?”  Mark steps forward.  “Is there something I can do?”

“Some intern apparently had their camera phone going when you got hit in the head and it’s online now.  It’s on Facebook now, and Sean fucking Parker thinks it’s hilarious and is sending out links to every single person he’s ever met every time he finds a new remix of it.  It’s probably going to headline the evening news tonight and that flimsy little confidentiality agreement I had the doctor sign isn’t going to do shit for us if you don’t make a public appearance soon.” 

The last words come out in a frenzied rush and Eduardo instinctively clutches at Mark’s arm to keep him calm.  Mark shakes the hand off but quickly picks it up again with his own.  He can feel Chris watching the movement but he can’t bring himself to pull away.  “So what are we going to do then?”

“I’m scheduling a press conference for tomorrow and you’re going to be there, no matter what year you think it is.  We’ll lie through our teeth and pray that no one cares enough to push the matter.  I should be able to restructure the memo I sent out to the staff.”

Mark drops Eduardo’s hand and walks over to pick up Eduardo’s laptop.  “Are there any videos of the other me doing press conferences that I can watch?  That way I can figure out how to act?”

“I’ll see if I can find you some stuff.”

Eduardo holds out a hand to stop Chris.  “Did you figure out who posted the video?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d you do to them?”

“I fired them.  You can’t post an embarrassing video of your boss, who happens to be the world’s youngest billionaire, and still expect a good reference letter.”

“Right.”

They spend the rest of the day preparing for the press conference.  Chris decides to hold it at 3 because it gives them more time to prepare, or, as he suggests, to pray for a miracle.  They search the internet for videos of Mark but there aren’t there and they decide that at least there’s nothing for anyone to compare him to.  But that leaves Mark with idle hands and when he turns the TV on he watches every single local news broadcast for their coverage of the video.  Eduardo winces every time the ball hits Mark and soon he can’t watch anymore.  When Chris decides to go work at the office Eduardo steals the remote from Mark’s hand and turns the TV off. 

“Let’s get you to bed.”  He leads Mark upstairs and stops at the doorway but Mark tugs him inside. 

“Stay with me.”

“I thought we agreed-”

“Not like that.  Just sleep here.  It’ll help me sleep if you do it too.”  Eduardo hesitates and Mark nudges their hips together.  “Come on, Eduardo.  Be my best friend.”

Eduardo nods and crawls into bed behind Mark.  He waits until the lights are off and their heads are just inches apart on the pillow to speak.  “Mark?”

“Mmh?”

“You should call me Wardo.”

He can feel the smile on Mark’s face when he leans over and kisses Eduardo’s forehead.  “Good night, Wardo.”


***


When Eduardo wakes up in the morning his legs are tangled with Mark’s and Mark is staring down at him.  “Morning,” Eduardo says, his voice muffled by the pillow.  He desperately wants to kiss Mark again but the look on his face says that he’s not interested.

“Eduardo,” Mark says, and something in his tone makes Eduardo flinch.  “What the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

Oh.

Eduardo detaches his legs from Mark’s and climbs out of bed.  “You remember now, don’t you?”

Mark just stares at Eduardo.  “That doesn’t answer the question.”

“You remember creating Facebook?”

“Of course I remember creating Facebook.  I also remember that you told me, in the form of a ridiculously expensive lawsuit, that you and I are not friends anymore, and so I do not understand why you are in my bed right now.”

“We must have fallen asleep talking last night,” Eduardo answers even though he knows it won’t explain anything.  “You had amnesia, Mark.  You couldn’t remember anything from the past four years.”

Mark snorts.  “Right.  Like that would happen.”

“It’s true.”

“Tell Dustin to call off this stupid prank.”

Eduardo’s head is spinning from the familiarity of this, from the way it’s all twisted inside-out.  “Here, I’ll call Chris.  He’ll back me up.”  He slides his phone out and dials Chris’s number with a shaking hand.  “Chris?  Mark’s back but he doesn’t believe that he had amnesia.”  He holds the phone out to Mark.

“You’re back?  Thank fuck.”  Chris is practically shouting.  “He’s telling the truth, Mark.  We didn’t know what to do with you.  It was like freshman year all over again.”

Eduardo pulls the phone back when he sees the widening of Mark’s eyes.  “Thanks.”

“Don’t let him go anywhere.  I’m coming right over to talk to him.  Or, well, I’ll be there soon.  I’ve got to call someone.  But I’ll be there soon.  And don’t leave him alone.”

“Maybe Dustin can come here.  I think I should head home.”

“Hell no, Wardo.  You’re not going anywhere yet.  Just grin and bear it.  I’ll try not to be long.”

Click.

“I had amnesia,” Mark says slowly.

Eduardo nods.

“What are you doing here?”

Eduardo shrugs.  “Chris suggested I come.  He said you were like you used to be and that they needed some help, so I came.”  He shrugs again.

“Like I used to be.  How’s that?”


“Like you were when we first met.  Before... before everything else happened.”

“You mean before you sued me,” Mark says, his voice flat.

Fire flames in Eduardo’s head.  “Sure.  Whatever.”

“I guess I can’t blame you for taking advantage of that.”

“I didn’t take advantage of anything!  It was still you, and-” Eduardo bites down on his words.  “Fine.  It doesn’t matter.  I’m going to wait downstairs until Chris comes and then I’ll go back to New York.”  He whirls on his heel and storms downstairs.  He stares at the coffee pot for a moment before yanking the fridge door open and taking a beer bottle.  He closes his eyes and leans against the counter in the same spot where Mark had first kissed him.

“Isn’t it a little early for that?”

Eduardo grits his teeth and opens his eyes.  “Didn’t you understand that I was coming down here to get away from you?”

Mark shrugs.  “It’s my house.  You’ll have to try harder.”

Eduardo angrily takes a swig of the beer and he grimaces when some splatters on the sweatshirt.  He slams the beer bottle on the counter, and is disappointed when he doesn't hear the satisfying sound of it shattering.  “Here,” he says, pulls the sweatshirt over his head.  “The other you loaned me this.  You can have it back.”

Mark gets close enough to read the tag.  “Keep it.  It’s yours.”

“I don’t want you to give it to me.”

“No, it’s yours.  I stole it from your closet sophomore year.”

“I never wear hoodies.”

“You got it at some orientation or as a gift.  I don’t know.  You said I could wear it one time when I crashed on your floor and I never returned it.”

Eduardo stares at the sweatshirt.  He vaguely remembers such a sweatshirt being handed to him, but he’s not sure where it came from.  At least he knows why it fits so well.  He can’t bring himself to put it back on, though.

“What is that?” Mark asks sharply as he stalks over to the counter.  He picks up the phone he’d first called Eduardo from.  “What is this doing here?”

“You called me from it just after you were diagnosed.  Chris and Dustin took away your other phone and laptop and locked you in your room, and you apparently found it stashed somewhere.  I think Dustin brought it down here.”

Mark shoves the phone in his sweatshirt pocket.  “It’s just a phone.  It doesn’t mean anything.”  His face is flushed red and he refuses to look at Eduardo.  “I just- I haven’t gotten rid of it.”

“Believe me, I know,” Eduardo mutters.  “Dustin was the one with ideas.”

Liar.  Liar.  Liar.

“How did I get amnesia?”

“You got hit with a baseball at the Facebook offices in the middle of the night Monday into Tuesday.”

“Why was there a baseball- Dustin,” Mark growls.

“Yeah.”

“What day is it today?”

“It’s Friday.”

“Shit.  What’s happening at the offices?”

“Chris and Dustin were handling that.  Chris’ll be here to catch you up as soon as he can.”

Mark walks out of the kitchen and then walks back a few seconds later with Eduardo’s laptop.  “Is this yours?  Can I borrow it?”  He opens it and starts typing without waiting for an answer.

Eduardo sighs and wants to snatch it away, wants to pack his things and board a plane that will take him as far away from here as possible.  Or maybe he can just hit Mark over the head again and see if he can bring back the Mark that was his for an all too brief time.

“Mark.”  He’s not ready to shout at him; he has to work up to that all over again, and he’s surprised when Mark looks up.

“What?”

“Do you hate me?”

“No.”

“But why not?  I sued you.”

“And I made some bad business decisions that led to you suing me.  I think we’re even.”

Eduardo gapes as Mark returns to his typing.  “But-”

“Do you hate me, Eduardo?”

Eduardo tries to say no, he really does, but he shakes his head.  “No, I don’t.”

“So if you could sue me without hating me then why can’t I be sued without hating you?”  Mark winces at something on the computer screen.  “Why do you ask?”

“I promised someone I would.”

Mark rolls his eyes.  “Who would even care about that?”

“You did.”

“When did- Oh.  You mean the me that had amnesia.”

“Yeah.”

“That must have been interesting.”

“You have no idea.”


***


While Mark types Eduardo gathers up the few things he’s left around the house and repacks them.  He positions his bags by the door; when Chris comes he’ll call a taxi, pack up his laptop, and leave for the airport.  Chris will understand the hasty exit.  If he’s lucky he’ll be in the air when the press conference occurs.

Chris finally arrives with Mark’s laptop and regular cellphone.  He’s too busy talking to Mark to notice Eduardo calling information for a taxi company.  He reclaims his notebook as Mark casually transitions to typing on his own and without saying anything he walks out the door.

As he waits for the taxi he has a hard time keeping his hands still.  He’d left the sweatshirt in a ball on Mark’s bed and had put on one of his regular button-down shirts, but he misses the pocket to keep his hands in.  He could buy himself a new hoodie but he knows he won’t.  He won’t be able to wear one without remembering Mark shoving his hands in and tangling their fingers together.  Without remember Mark kissing him.  Without remembering Mark telling him to try it again.

Eduardo exhales and grabs his bags, practically running back up the stairs and inside the house.  Chris is talking to Mark in the kitchen and he stops mid-sentence when he sees Eduardo.

“Oh, good.  I thought you had just left without telling me.”

Eduardo ignores him and walks over to where Mark is sitting.  He reaches down and pulls Mark up so he’s standing and shoves his hands into Mark’s pocket.  His hands are clutching the phone there so Eduardo just wraps his hands around them and then he leans into kiss him. 

Mark doesn’t respond at first but just when Eduardo’s about to give up his tongue darts out.  Eduardo greedily opens his mouth and it’s exactly like the day before, with Mark running his tongue along Eduardo’s teeth before pulling away. 

“Wardo,” Mark whispers.

“Yeah.”  Eduardo smiles and carefully pries Mark’s fingers off the phone.  “I’m here.”