Work Text:
1.
To: Dustin Moskovitz
Plane delayed, will be late. Think you can hang around an extra couple of hours for me? Eduardo
Delivered 10:37pm
From: Dustin
you do know i have you saved as a contact right?
Delivered 11:03pm
-
Mark is drunk when Eduardo arrives at the pub. Drunk, singing Twist and Shout with unnerving passion, one arm slung around Chris and the other sloshing a beer around.
"Wardo! Mi amigo!" Dustin waves frantically at Eduardo, nearly knocking over his drink in the process and almost whacking Chris in the face.
Eduardo frowns and dismisses Dustin. He looks to Chris and jerks his head at Mark. "What happened to him?"
"He's a lightweight, dude," Chris answers, looking like he's holding back laughter.
"Come on and shake it up, b- hey, I am not a lightweight, I'm-" Mark crosses his arms. "I am not! Wardo, tell them I'm not a lightweight."
"Not at all. I think it's time we get you back to the dorm," Eduardo half-smiles and mumbles to Dustin, "Thank me later."
"You sure? You only just got here. And Mark is entertaining," Dustin says.
"I'd fall asleep in the first ten minutes," Wardo dismisses. "C'mon Mark, we're going back."
Mark giggles, standing up and staggering for a second before grabbing onto Eduardo's shoulder and patting his cheek. "Sure, big guy. Take me home."
Dustin snorts before covering it up and taking a drink. "I think it's bedtime, Mark."
Mark, seemingly oblivious to Dustin's jab at him, stretches and slings his arm around Eduardo. "Me too. I'm tired all of a sudden. Is anyone else tired all of a sudden? I am."
God help Eduardo, he's an affectionate drunk.
He mutters something under his breath and gets an arm around Mark to help him out. Mark snorts, almost collapsing, before balancing himself on Eduardo.
"Not so witty now," Eduardo kicks the door gently open with his foot and helping Mark down the steps.
"Yeah, yeah," Mark slurs, stumbling down the stairs ungracefully.
Eduardo holds back a laugh and hauls him down the sidewalk. "Think you're gonna throw up as soon as we get in?"
"Get- no, I don't - think so," Mark's tongue feels too big for his mouth. He giggles, stumbling into Eduardo and almost tripping up, only steadied by the hand on his shoulder. "Shit, sorry, just, I'm really sorry-"
They make it there safely, albeit ungracefully. As soon as they get in the door, Mark stumbles and leans against the wall for a second. "Thank - you. Thanks." Mark seems sincere enough.
"You're just lucky I like you. C'mon, let's get you into bed -" he helps Mark stumble over to his side of the dorm, knocking over a few things on the way. "Hoodie off."
Mark snorts. "'Least buy me dinner first," he mumbles, complying anyway.
"I do that every week, it's the only way you'll eat anything except for cup noodles - jeans," Eduardo says, flinging Mark's hoodie over to the side of the room.
"Oh yeah," he giggles, letting Wardo help him with his buttons.
Once he's got them off, he flops back into bed, spread eagle, and stares at the ceiling, frowning.
"You know you said how you like me?" He pauses, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. "I do too. You. I like you."
"Fantastic." Eduardo hoists himself up onto the end of the bed, leaning against the wall.
"No, I mean it, I do. I like you. And you like me. I don't know why, I'm a bit of a pain."
"You are," Eduardo yawns, stretching his arms above his head and cracking his back. "But I like you anyway." He pauses. "Don't be a sad drunk now, you haven't been sad all night, don't start now."
"Okay," Mark frowns unconvincingly. He sits up and blinks at Eduardo, the heels of his hand digging into the mattress.
"Go to sleep," Eduardo says, but Mark makes no effort to close his eyes.
"Okay, just. I do like you. I really do," Mark mumbles before scooting over to dump his head into Eduardo's lap.
Wardo looks down at him wearily for a second before settling his hand in his hair and threading his fingers through it.
If he doesn't have the heart to wake him up to get to his bed, that's nobody's business but his.
2.
"And she has the nerve to tell me I'm not committed enough! I mean, can you even believe that?"
"Mmhm," Wardo hums. "Stay still, please." He continues to dab at Mark's face carefully with the paper towel from where Mark's sitting up on the kitchen counter.
Chris leans against the counter, glass of water in hand. "I still don't get it. If she punched you, how'd you get a gash on your face?"
Mark feels his face heating up. "Well," he begins. "She hit me, and you know I don't like people in my personal space, so I got caught off guard and lost my foo-"
Chris snorts. "Save your dignity and forget I asked." He takes a long drink of his water before nodding to Wardo. "Please, for the love of God, keep him out of trouble," he says, retiring through to the living room. Mark huffs impatiently.
"This is why I didn't want to tell you," he says, crossing his arms.
"Stay still, for Christ's sake," Wardo mutters, still dabbing at his face helplessly.
Mark taps his fingers against the counter before stopping himself. "Sorry," he says sheepishly, "It hurts."
Wardo is frowning in concentration, still dabbing at Mark's cheek before giving up and moving to apply treatment. "It's gonna sting," he warns.
Mark nods, crossing his arms over his chest and bracing himself. He hisses a little when Wardo starts to dab it on anyway, muttering "fuck," under his breath and gripping the counter.
"Shh, c'mon," Wardo soothes, applying more treatment to the gash. "Just let me finish this off."
Mark grimaces, batting Wardo's hand away and looking down at the ground from where Wardo's made him sit on the counter. "Sorry, I just-"
"It's fine," Wardo nods, settling a hand on his shoulder and rubbing with his thumb.
"I still don't know why you're making me sit up here," he mumbles, still looking down.
"Because," Wardo says, "You're tiny, and as much as I like you, I don't feel having sore knees from kneeling next to you."
The tips of Mark's ears turn red. "I'm not tiny," he protests weakly.
Wardo hums again. He goes again to dab more antibiotic on the gash.
"Jesus. Can you just kiss it better and be done with it?" Mark shifts on the counter a little bit, crossing his arms.
Wardo frowns, wiping the treatment off on the back of his hand. He considers Mark for a second before settling his hand on Mark's jaw and swiftly moving in to brush his lips against his cheek.
Mark makes a sound anywhere between surprise and embarrassment, immediately going rigid. Wardo goes to apply more treatment to his finger nonchalantly.
"Wrong cheek," Mark falters, reaching up to touch his good cheek with his fingers. "You - you - I - wrong cheek."
"Yeah, well," Wardo says, "You said the other one stings, didn't you?"
Mark nods carefully, letting Wardo dab the rest of the treatment on wordlessly.
3.
"Christ, why am I the only one who'll keep an eye on you?" Wardo fumbles with his keys, locking the door shut and rushing over to Mark's desk where he is dimly illuminated by the light from his laptop.
Mark doesn't seem to acknowledge him, nuzzling his face into his arms and repeatedly tapping the backspace button on his keyboard.
"Hey, hey, come on," Wardo starts, taking the bottles and setting them aside. "Jesus, you really are a lightweight, come on." He tugs at Mark's hoodie helplessly.
Mark mumbles something incoherent before pushing his chair back and making an attempt to stand up but almost falling over, steadied by Wardo.
Wardo closes the laptop gently and leads Mark over to sit on the bed. "Let's not make a habit of this," he only half-jokes.
"Wardo," Mark begins, slurring a little bit, before laughing and kicking his leg. "Wardo. Listen, I'm sorry, I always pull this shit on you, and you're always looking out for me, a-"
"Just, for the love of God, look out for me for once and get into bed?" Wardo says defeatedly, watching Mark struggle with his jeans for a few seconds before giving up and letting Wardo help.
"I'm sorry, I - really am," Mark looks apologetic enough, and Wardo can't stay upset at him long, so he eventually just sits down next to him, bumping their knees together.
"It's fine," Wardo mumbles, trying his best to ignore the tension.
"It's just," Mark continues, ignoring Wardo, "I do like you, I really do, I don't think you believe me but -"
"Of course I believe you, or why wouldn't I stick aroun-"
"No, you don't get it, Wardo, I like you, I do, I really really do and -" Mark makes a frustrated sound, considering him for a second. He grabs Wardo by the neck, pausing for a second before licking up the side of his jaw. He pulls away, looking uncertain.
What the fuck.
Wardo stares on ahead, opening his mouth and closing it, once, twice, three times. "I -"
"Sorry," Mark cuts in, looking down at his socks and tucking his knees up to his chest. "Sorry."
"Just -" Wardo sighs, slipping off the end of the bed onto the floor. "Get to bed, please. For me?"
Mark nods, turning over to face him for a second, looking thoughtful. Mulling something over in his head.
Don't, Wardo thinks. Don't do this to me, for the love of all things holy.
God didnt hear his prayer, and there's the urgent press of lips against his, and he's kneeling up on the floor, pushing Mark away gently, and he's saying the dreaded words. "You're drunk."
They go to sleep in their respective beds and don't speak of it.
4.
"You made chicken soup," Mark says in disbelief, looking up at Eduardo from his desk. "Chicken soup."
Wardo rocks back and forth on his heels impatiently. "Yes," he says, a little bit embarrassed. "Yes, I made chicken soup, because you're sick and nobody's telling you to take medicine or stay in bed and not work yourself to death, so I have to."
Mark stares in wonder. "That's," he begins, and trails off. "Chicken soup."
"Yes, I know it is, can we get past the cannibalism jokes and go back to the fact that you're sick a-"
"I'm not sick," Mark insists, and Eduardo almost breaks into laughter because his voice is nasally and the "not" sounds more like "dot", and he's so obviously sick.
"For God's sake, just get off your laptop and get into bed, please, for me," Wardo pleads. "I made chicken soup. I'm the guy that wants to help."
Mark nods slowly, standing up and sitting over on the bed, blinking slowly up at Eduardo.
Wardo takes the bowl and thrusts it into Mark's hands, who takes it cautiously, looking at it then back up at Eduardo.
"Oh, for God's sake, what is it?" Wardo says, seemingly giving up.
"You're fussing over me," Mark replies cautiously. "As if you're my mother."
"No, I'm not!" Wardo rubs a hand across his face. "Just eat the soup, please, just eat the soup."
"Well, if you're not treating me like your child, then you're treating me like your boyfriend," Mark declares, taking a spoonful of soup from the side of his bowl and sipping it.
Wardo splutters. "No! I'm not. I'm treating you like my best friend who's going to feel like shit if he doesn't get some hot soup in him right now, and who'll then take it out on me later-" he sighs, giving up and slumping down on the carpet next to the bed. "I'm not."
Mark shrugs, unconvinced, taking another spoonful of soup. "Just saying."
Wardo rubs his eyes. "Why do I even try?"
Mark doesn't answer, just clanks his spoon against the bottom of the bowl.
+ 1
He can't sleep, and he absolutely knows Mark can hear him tossing and turning.
Dustin and Chris are away, likely doing Dustin and Chris things, but it's 12am and Wardo is so tired and he just wants to sleep so badly.
He hears Mark rustle around a little bit from his side of the room. He breathes in deeply, before he hears - "I can hear your insomnia from here."
Wardo groans and mumbles, "Go to sleep, Mark."
There's a few beats of silence before he hears the springs of Mark's bed from across the room. He hears him pad across the room over to Wardo, and Wardo feels a little guilty. "Sorry."
Mark stays silent, crouching down next to Wardo's bed before whispering, "Move up."
"Mark, I-"
"Let me do this one thing for you," he nudges Eduardo, prompting him to move up. Wardo scoots over, and Mark clambers in.
Eduardo mumbles another apology, all too aware of how tiny the bed is for them.
"I couldn't sleep anyway," Mark mutters, a little louder. "You're warm."
Wardo flushes, thankful that the only light in the room is the moonlight streaming through the windows. "Still," he says.
"Wardo, every time I ever seem remotely unhappy, you do everything in your power to help me so just let me do this one thing for you, okay?" Mark mumbles, wrapping an arm around Wardo. "Besides, I've reviewed my feelings, got my shit together, and realised I was probably a little weird to you, so I should be apologising, really."
Wardo almost chokes on air. "What?"
Mark breathes a sigh and pushes himself up on the heels of his hands. "I do like you. I really, really do, and that's not just me saying that."
Wardo coughs. "You remember?"
"I remember licking your jaw. That was weird," Mark murmured. He pauses for a few beats. "Listen. Can I do something, and if it's weird, you can kick me out your bed and never speak to me again?"
Wardo's throat feels incredibly dry. He nods, then realises Mark can't see him properly. "Yeah."
"I don't think you'll kick me out, though." Mark says. Then he presses his hands against Wardo's face coolly before leaning down to press his lips against Wardo's.
When he pulls away, Wardo tries to chase him, but Mark mumbles "In the morning," and flops down against the pillow. He makes a muttered noise. "Sleepy time now."
Mark can't see it, but Wardo's grinning ear to ear.
He has the best sleep of his life.