you think you’ve changed your mind by toestastegood | nc-17 | 10k | Mark wakes up with the ability to hear Eduardo’s thoughts. It would have been a lot more helpful when they were still talking to each other.
So you've got me hooked on Mark/Eduardo fics!! Care to rec me some??
ok so i have like a total of 70+ bookmarks for tsn fics, and that includes mark/eduardo, jesse/andrew, and some other pairings (like chris/dustin and sean/eduardo), but i’m just gonna rec you mark/eduardo since that was that you specifically asked for - except the one jesse/andrew that i listened to today, because it’s too brilliant to not rec. i don’t remember the majority of these, because i read (have read) an insane amount of fanfiction, but if they’re in my bookmarks, it means that they’re awesome.
let’s start with the jesse/andrew one, to get it out of the way. jesse and andrew are the actors that played mark and eduardo in the movie. so, it’s rpf. don’t read if that really squicks you, but i promise you that it’s totally worth it, because this is awesome. the one i’m talking about is called the giraffe notes, and it’s also available as podfic.
and now, mark/eduardo. i’m just gonna list them and let you click and read more about them by yourself, because 1) as i said above, i really don’t remember all of them and 2) i am insanely tired.
in webs and knots (read the warnings on that one. it’s very heavy on the kinks, and it took me a long time to finally read it, and when i did, it changed me as a person. which sounds weird and cliche and stupid, but it did. it’s pretty intense.)
so there you have it. it’s not a lot, but it’s a start. if you go to the author profiles, most of them has written other, brilliant fics that are definitely worth reading. and check the livejournal, and the mark/eduardo shiptag on ao3. when it comes to tsn fanfic, the overall quality is amazingly good.
eduardo. nobody’s going to pretend that mark even knows where the kitchen is, let alone how to cook in one. (sometimes, because he is a Good Friend and knows eduardo needs some time off, chris will come around and cook some shit and make them freeze it because sometimes even eduardo is hopeless, okay).
how often do they fight?:
all. the. time. and it’s dirty and dangerous and it hurts because they know exactly how to do it now. they sulk in silence, apart, and then itch with the need to be together and they’ll meet somewhere in the middle, awkwardly and misaligned, like they have every other time.
what do they do when they’re away from each other?:
breathe. just for a little while. even that seems too difficult apart and they’ll gravitate, just like always.
nicknames for each other?:
wardo’s been a name mark claimed for himself longer before anybody else. it always sounds different coming from anyone else. when they’re alone, when eduardo can curl around and mark allows it, his breathe will always catch on the syllables, dropping the last until it’s a breathless whisper.
eduardo’s favoured term is querido and mark’s stopped blushing everytime he says it. even chris and dustin are accustomed to the term, no longer grinning like idiots because it means they’re fixed and working and together. (if eduardo sometimes whispers coração (*) into the dark, lips pressed to mark’s temple, then only they know about it.
who is more likely to pay for dinner?:
eduardo. it’s not like mark can’t, just that eduardo never lets him. and yeah, not that mark will ever admit it out loud, but he kind of likes it. a lot.
who steals the covers at night?:
if mark ever comes to bed… usually eduardo. he’s got a thing about wrapping himself up tight, away from the world. mark’s used to coaxing him out by any means necessary, and allowing (no matter what chris says, he’s allowing it) eduardo to throw an arm around him, to tug him in tight against his chest
what would they get each other for gifts?:
mark thinks about it long and hard before eduardo’s birthday. he just doesn’t know. it’s not until he’s staring at eduardo, empty handed, and eduardo says, i have you like mark’s the best fucking thing he could ever have gotten and yeah, mark feels the same about eduardo.
who kissed who first?:
the first kiss that wasn’t angry, wasn’t loaded with something else, was a mutual thing. a brief touch of lips that could hardly be called a kiss but meant everything.
who made the first move?:
like always, it’s a tangle of eduardoandmark.
who remembers things?:
eduardo remembers most things like groceries and to actually do the laundry. he remembers friends’ birthdays and what day chris got engaged and the way dustin prefers his drink.
(mark remembers the bad dates, the ones where eduardo left, or hated him, or didn’t talk to him for two, three, five years.)
who started the relationship?:
eduardo walked up to mark and said hi. beyond that, they’ve always just been together.
who cusses more?:
chris. okay so he’s not actually in their lives but usually they’ll go to swear and cuss and chris will cut across them, like his life is harder than theirs or something. (and yeah, mark can admit that maybe it is, a little)
what would they do if the other one was hurt?:
usually they’re hurt because of each other but there’s enough hatred and and anger with themselves to last a lifetime.
It’s 4 am on a Tuesday morning when Eduardo is awoken from the most remarkable dream about flying meatballs and tap-dancing elves to the click, click, click of fingers typing away on keys and the blue glow of a computer screen. He groans, rubs a hand down his face and through his hair as he rolls out of bed. His limbs aren’t quite as awake as his mind, and he mostly just flops to the floor, dragging the blankets down with him. He doesn’t bother putting on clothes.
Mark is sitting at his desk, five empty Redbull cans on the floor by his feet. Wardo can’t even bring himself to surprised at this point. Mark is so focused on whatever inane thing he’s working on that he doesn’t even stir when Eduardo digs the point of his chin into Mark’s shoulder.
“Thought you were ‘sleep,” Mark slurs. Eduardo hums into the warmth of his neck. Mark doesn’t react.
“Was. Got lonely.” He stands up, hands falling heavily on Mark’s shoulders. “Come join me.” Mark only grunts. Wardo sighs, heavy and put upon like dealing with Mark is such a hassle for him, and slides his fingers into Mark’s greasy, unwashed, limp curls. He yanks Mark’s hand back until Mark’s forces to stop typing and pay attention.
“Come back to bed,” He adds a pout, sticking his bottom lip out jokingly. Then he leans over Mark, convincing him the only way he knows with get Mark to do what he wants. He presses a kiss to his forehead, the tip of his nose, then presses firmly against his mouth.
It’s an awkward angle, upside down, and their mouths don’t exact fit this way, but it’s still good, has still got Mark lifting up to meet him and Wardo tightening his hold to deepen it. When he pulls up, they’re both breathless, spit drying on Eduardo’s chin and Mark’s neck aching.
“Come to bed,” He repeats. This time Mark listens.