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The Mass and Majesty of this World

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For all of his meticulous attention to detail, not to mention his razor-sharp perception and easy way with which he read people, Mark completely missed the dynamic between the Winklevoss twins initially. It escaped him, in fact, until well after they'd first met - it wasn't until Eduardo brought it up during a casual conversation over reheated Chinese food one night that it occurred to him.

"I swear, there's something weird going on between those two," he said idly, chewing on some noodles. "I get that they're twins, but really? Does no one else find it strange that they live together, they work out together, they don't go out with girls unless it's a double date, they spend like...all of their time together? I'm honestly surprised that they even chose different majors, I can't imagine how wrenching it must be for them to have to separate to go to class." His tone was sarcastic, but his words sparked a new and abrupt understanding in Mark's brain, like a plug inserted too loosely in a socket finally being pushed in the rest of the way.

"They're very close," he concurred absently, his eyes going a little glassy and distant as the electricity of this new idea began to crackle and illuminate his mind.

"A little too close, if you ask me," Eduardo said, rolling his eyes. "What kind of brothers do that? I'm sure they fight sometimes, but you'd never know it. They're like an old married couple, you should see how they act in the Phoenix room. Whenever anyone asks them about their separate plans for the future, how they're going to survive when the time comes to get married and pursue different careers and such, they both just look all blank-faced and confused. Like the very suggestion is just so absurd that they can't even comprehend it."

"Maybe they can't," Mark provided, shrugging. "I mean, it must be nice, having someone like that in your life. Like you said, it's like being married only even more intimate. You can divorce a spouse, fall out of love with them, but the bond between brothers - twin brothers, no less - that's huge. Especially considering that they're best friends, partners. It must feel really safe, having someone you can trust to always be there, to always be on your side." His voice went a touch wistful, something upon which only Eduardo could have picked up. Mark's life was very different - he'd created for himself an existence in which trust was a rare and precious commodity. There were so many out there who circled constantly around him, hoping to dart in for the kill, to harvest the profits of his genius mind, his brilliant ideas.

"I know that it's not the same as having a twin," Eduardo responded quietly, putting aside his take-out container in favor of reaching for Mark's hand. "But you do have that. You have me."

Mark blinked himself back into the moment, and met Eduardo's eyes. They were big, liquid-dark, earnest and warm. Slowly, he smiled with a fondness that no one else ever saw in him, and let Eduardo lace their fingers together as they sat on his couch. "I do have you, yes," he conceded gently, before dropping Eduardo's hand and shaking the moment loose with his standard briskness.

The idea remained however, germinating with a plant-like tenacity and patience in his head, and later that night in bed, he sat up beside Eduardo, reading for a good twenty minutes before bringing it up.

"It would be kind of hot, no?" he said nonchalantly, turning a page. Wardo glanced over at him, the soft light of his apartment's bedside lamp glinting off of his sensible reading glasses.

"What's that, querido?" he asked, and Mark took a moment to appreciate the brief little shiver of pleasure that always swept through him at the rolling, musical lilt of Eduardo's easy Portuguese.

"Tyler and Cameron, together," he said, as matter-of-factly as he could manage. It took Eduardo a moment to piece it together, but then he smiled faintly.

"It would," he agreed mildly. "Twins, making love. It's so taboo, but there's something inherently erotic about it. I guess that's human narcissism for you. I'd buy a ticket. I mean, look at them. They're fucking beautiful." He grinned, laying his book aside and rolling over onto his side to curl up against Mark. He knew that Mark wasn't a cuddler by nature, but he also knew that he'd usually indulge him. "I've always been a sucker for pretty blue eyes," he added, drinking in Mark's smile like the rare treat it was.

"I feel like we should investigate this," Mark pressed the matter further, and Eduardo yawned, pillowing his head on Mark's shoulder.

"Why not? Getting some dirt on them would sure improve our standing in the Phoenix circles. Plus, they might let us watch." He laughed, but his little joke inspired the dimly-conceived notion in the back of Mark's brain to bloom into something new, something hungry. He came very close to shaking Eduardo awake for sex several minutes later, but instead rolled over to escape his sleep-clutch and eventually slipped under the waves of a deep, dreamless sleep himself.

Four days later, there was a networking event disguised as a wine-tasting at the Phoenix room's social function hall, to which Eduardo of course took Mark. The nature of their relationship was perhaps the worst-kept secret of Harvard, but like the gentlemen they were (and they were, Wardo was occasionally forced to defend to others), Cameron and Tyler had never remarked upon it. He'd always assumed that this was simply because they were classy, but given his recent conversations with Mark, he had to consider that perhaps their silence indicated more of a camaraderie than he'd initially realized.

Cameron greeted them at the entry, his brother not far behind per usual. There was something about the ease with which Cameron carried himself that inspired confidence and fondness in even the most emotionally sequestered of people, like Mark. His swagger was all but tangible, as was Tyler's, but there was a genuine kindness in his limpid, sea-blue eyes. His body was huge - he and his brother towered over the rest of the crowd at nearly six and a half feet tall apiece, with shoulders as wide across as a small car and hands like callused, long-fingered shovels. But with Cameron, it made one feel safe, protected, the way he leaned into them as he spoke. He handed them both glasses of aged Merlot to begin. "Saverin, so glad you could make it. Hi, Mark."

Mark blinked, vaguely taken off-guard by the fact that Cameron remembered his name. He was a little preoccupied with Tyler, who hovered silently behind him. The difference in demeanor rolled off of him like smoke off dry ice; Tyler's trouble simmered just below his surface. He was heat where Cameron was warmth, his smile a little closer to a smirk, his physical bulk somehow a little more intimidating. Cameron was like a bear, certainly dangerous if provoked but generally just big and cuddly and cute, while Tyler was a lion, as deadly and unpredictable. He even stalked and prowled like one, weaving his way through the crowd with the coolly ambling threat of a born predator.

He was compelling. Sexy. Mark watched the languid grace with which he somehow moved that big body of his, increasingly turned on by the both of them. His interest did not escape Eduardo, who grinned at him and poked him lovingly in the back. "You go talk to Tyler, I'll take Cam," he whispered into his ear, taking advantage of the fact that they'd found themselves in a corner with no one paying much attention to them, pressing a quick kiss to Mark's earlobe.

Mark nodded, slipping through the crush of expensively perfumed, lotioned, manicured and tailor-dressed bodies to find the evil Winklevoss twin. It wasn't hard - what was hard was thinking up an excuse to corner him alone, as he was currently surrounded by a tittering bevy of hair-tossing prep-school beauties. Luckily for him, Tyler looked like he would have preferred a decidedly gory death to enduring another moment of their company, and Mark took his chance.

"Hey, Tyler," he said, shouldering his way between two leggy blondes. "Mind if I steal you for a minute? I wanted to ask you something about, um, that class we're taking. Have you started this week's essay yet?"

He and Tyler weren't taking any classes together. But the relief and gratitude on Tyler's classically handsome face were immediately evident, and he all but beamed in an uncharacteristic gesture. "Yeah, sure. Ladies, please excuse me. Academia calls," he said, snatching the opportunity to escape their verbal clutches, walking so quickly out of the social function room that Mark struggled to keep up.

"Oh, thank God," he exhaled once they were in the empty hallway just outside of the exit, with its gleaming hardwood floor and damask-papered walls adorned with portraits of Phoenix Club leaders past. He sagged against the wall, closing his eyes and massaging his temples with long, strong fingers, and Mark could only watch him for a moment. "I was going to kill myself over and over again if I had to stand there and listen to one more goddamn second of their inane bullshit. Thanks, Zuckerberg."

Mark allowed himself a small smile. "My pleasure. You looked about two seconds away from a drastic conclusion."

Tyler grinned wolfishly down at him. "I'm used to it by now. Is my brother still talking to Eduardo in there?"

"As far as I know. Are you two fucking each other?"

Tyler blinked down at him, and then laughed, the sound of it as low and chesty and attractive as his speaking voice. "Again?"

"You and your brother. Is there something going on between you guys?"

"Zuckerberg, what in the hell..."

"No, don't." Mark cut him off. "Don't play the incredulous normalcy game that you do with everyone else. I'm an anomaly too, you know. I'll never belong to their world--" he gestured aimlessly back toward the function room. "I'm not here to judge you. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"Blackmail, then? You can't prove shit." Tyler's defensive reaction told Mark all he needed to know, and he shook his head with a patient smile.

"No. I just...Eduardo and I were talking. And we think it's sexy."

Tyler gaped down at him, wordless and shocked. It was somehow appealing.

"I know you both find Eduardo attractive, and we wanted you to know that we're not entirely opposed to the idea of embarking upon a recreational endeavor or two, the four of us." He left unspoken his conviction that neither twin found him especially attractive, though it lingered in the air between them, potentially poisonous had Mark been less acclimated to the notion of his own physical mediocrity.

Tyler continued to stare dumbly, and Mark's frustration rose. "We want to watch you, dumbass."

"You want to watch. My brother and I?" Tyler said slowly, clearly struggling to keep up. "You and your boyfriend."

"You could watch us, too," he offered, banking on their crush on Eduardo. But it was his wrist that was suddenly gripped in a powerful, oar-roughened hand, his small, slim body that was suddenly pinned against the wall by a lumbering giant of a man. Tyler groaned, low in his throat, as his brain caught up with the proceedings.

"Oh, fuck," he murmured heavily, dipping his head to press his face against Mark's throat, his breath warm and damp there. "Fuck, I've thought about it so much. Ever since I figured out what was going on with you two...are you being serious right now, Zuckerberg? Because if you're fucking with me, I'll end you."

Mark laughed breathlessly as Tyler pressed him into the wall, rubbing the length of his huge body against him like an enormous, eager cat. "I'm serious," he promised, his breath catching in his throat when Tyler pressed a wet, open-mouthed, sucking kiss to his collarbone, impatiently yanking aside the pressed collar of his crisp white Oxford shirt to do so. He was like a freight train in more ways than one, and he knew that if he didn't stop him now, they could very well have fucked right there on the floor. And that just wasn't acceptable, not without Wardo or Cameron. "Whoa, big guy," he said sharply, the knowledge of what an aggressive, dominant lover Tyler was going to be settling hot and heavy in his belly. "Hit the brakes. We have to wait for our other halves, remember?"

Tyler made a frustrated sound, but pulled away with something new burning in his eyes. "Tonight," he said shortly. "We'll pick you up."

Then he was gone, turning and heading back into the function room with that feline grace that was so unexpected from someone as big as him. Mark watched him go, carefully buttoning his shirt back up to the collar, but not before brushing his fingertips lightly against the damp spot where Tyler's mouth had been moments before, shivering just a little.

Eduardo's talk with Cameron, it turned out, had not gone nearly as productively. He later confessed to Mark that he'd mostly just stammered nervously under the gentle weight of Cameron's patient smile, offering mindless compliments and congratulations in regard to Harvard's last-won rowing race, until Cameron had been called away by a professor's wife. "Luckily for all parties involved, at least two of us have some balls," Mark pointed out glibly as they'd emerged together from a steaming-hot shower that evening, and Wardo pinched what little flesh presented itself on Mark's left ass cheek.

"You think they're fucking with us?"

"No. I mean, Tyler got pretty...assertive with me, out there in the hall."

He braced himself for a flash of jealousy, but instead Eduardo's expression went a little hazy and lustful. He sat on the edge of their bed and watched Mark yank on his uniform Harvard hoodie over a pair of clean khakis and standard-issue blue boxers, completing the whole ensemble with his favorite Eastlander sandals.

"You're not going to dress up even a little?"

Glancing down at himself, Mark shrugged. "Why bother? They already know how I normally look, and besides. It's not like the clothes will be staying on for long or anything."

"Point," Wardo conceded, and it wasn't long before they were exiting their dorm building into the cool New England night, after Cameron texted Eduardo with a simple, we're here, inhaling lungfuls of the crisp autumn air. The Winklevoss twins were parked at the far end of their lot, in a sleek black Porsche that gleamed with a professional polish and a near-tangible aura of privilege and wealth. Predictably, Tyler was driving, Cameron lounging in the backseat with his impossibly long legs stretched out as he reclined against one of the back doors. He shifted when they approached, though, sitting up and smirking at them when they slid wordlessly into the car.

"Hi," he said easily, as if they were all going to a football game together. Wardo settled into the front seat beside Tyler, whose tension was roiling thick and hot in the air between them, his long fingers tapping anxiously against the steering wheel. Cameron was more relaxed, and he draped himself over Mark like some kind of gargantuan puppy seeking attention. "God, you look good," he murmured, sliding close and slipping both powerful arms around Mark's slight frame, pulling him against his chest and dipping his head for a long, deep kiss that felt very different from the one he'd shared earlier with Tyler.

Cameron kissed with an unexpected tenderness, a low-level heat, cupping Mark's face in both hands. Their calluses scraping against his infuriatingly (for him, anyway) baby-soft cheeks created a shiver that swept through him, and he moaned a little into Cameron's open mouth. He dipped his tongue inside without preamble, swirling it into Mark's mouth with a practiced move, and Mark's whole body bowed toward him. Cameron leaned into him, pressing him back against the richly upholstered seats until he was lying on top of him. His solid weight was somehow soothing as opposed to threatening, and they just couldn't stop kissing. Mark slid both hands up Cameron's wide back, the thick muscles there evident even through his cotton Harvard hoodie.

Cameron nipped at his lower lip, sucked it into his mouth and sighed through his nose, their eyes sinking closed in unison as they made out like teenagers in the backseat. "We've been thinking about this for so long, Mark," he murmured against his lips, always prone to using we instead of I or me. "You and Eduardo both, you're both so fucking gorgeous. We'd think about how you must be, together, in bed, and we'd get so turned on. Fuck, fuck." His words dissolved into meaningless profanities as he yanked impatiently at the collar of Mark's hoodie, burying his face into his throat and nuzzling there before latching onto a mouthful of soft, hot skin. Mark wanted to discourage him, to push him away before he left a hickey in an obvious spot, but the sharp pain of his nibbling teeth and insistent mouth felt too incredible. So instead, he threaded his fingers through Cameron's soft, thick blond hair and moaned, tipping his head back for more.

"Beautiful little Zuckerberg," Cameron said quietly when he pulled away, lapping his tongue over the dark, round bruise he'd sucked to the surface of Mark's pale skin. "Brilliant, insufferable, gorgeous little Zuckerberg."

In the front seat, Eduardo had twisted himself around to watch them, his dark eyes wide in the dimly-lit interior of the car. "Holy shit, look at them," he whispered to Tyler, who was forced to watch the road instead. "They can't even wait."

Tyler groaned helplessly, obviously dying to look but unable to take his eyes off the road. Smiling sympathetically, Eduardo returned his attention to him, sliding a hand into his lap to gently palm the semi-hard erection that had already begun to push against the inside of Tyler's expensive jeans. "You two are so sexy I could fucking die," he purred into Tyler's ear, nipping at his earlobe. "When Mark and I started talking about how there must have been something going on with you guys, I couldn't stop thinking about it. How you'd look, how you'd be together. With your beautiful bodies and your beautiful eyes, everything identical. How you two would know each other so well that you'd always know exactly what to do, where to touch, how to make each other come."

"Drive faster!" Cameron demanded from the backseat, where he and Mark were all but cuddling, their arms wrapped around each other and their legs tangled up together, the only indication of their mutual arousal the slow, almost imperceptible rocking of their hips against each other. Mark made a soft sound in the back of his throat, bending one leg at the knee and crooking it around Cameron's hips to bring their erections as close as possible with two layers of denim between them. Cameron hissed through gritted teeth, grinding down against him with a new urgency.

Tyler depressed the gas pedal more firmly, an almost angry expression on his face as Eduardo carefully unzipped his jeans and slid a hand inside, pressing against his quickly-stiffening erection through his boxers. "Be careful, handsome," he kissed against his ear, the side of his neck. "This would be really hard to explain to the cops if we got into an accident."

Hearing him, Mark laughed breathlessly from the backseat, and they all erupted into a happily relieved cry when they finally arrived in the lot of the Winklevoss' private suite building for students whose parents had made generous contributions to Harvard. It was beautiful, and given that all the dorms at Harvard were top-notch, this was saying something. None of them paused to appreciate the architecture however, as Tyler quickly locked up the car and all four of them all but bolted for the building. Far fewer students lived here, so the lobby was thankfully empty. The elevator was lush and efficient, and they were soon tumbling into the two-bedroom luxury apartment suite of the Winklevoss twins.

Neither he nor Eduardo had ever been in there before, and despite his erection, Mark couldn't help but be charmed by the distinctly TylerandCameron nature of the place when Cameron turned on a light. They'd entered directly into a den, with the Harvard rowing crest framed and mounted on the wall behind the chocolate-brown sofa. The floors were a deep, rich hardwood, and there was an old-fashioned typewriter sitting on a mahogany desk in the corner. There was even a piece of paper in it, which Mark assumed was only for show, but when he glanced at it as he passed he realized that Cameron was working on an essay. He wrote his essays on a vintage 50s typewriter, he realized with an unexpected surge of affection for both of them. On a wall mantle by the huge TV in front of the couch, several framed photos of a pair of towheaded twins waited.

Cameron and Tyler with their little arms around each others' shoulders, beaming for a professional portrait together. The two of them rowing for their prep school team as teenagers, the picture clearly taken by a spectator from the shore. An old newspaper clipping about the two of them for a local paper from their hometown, pictures of an older man and woman whom he could only presume to be their parents. They both looked wealthy, a touch arrogant, blond and beautiful. But they'd inherited their mother's deep blue, heavy-lidded eyes, he realized. There was one photo of Cameron - Mark recognized the friendliness of his expression that Tyler seemed to have trouble emulating - sitting cross-legged on a nicely manicured lawn with a huge chocolate-brown bear of a dog half-draped across his lap.

"Her name was Sadie," Cameron said, approaching Mark from behind and wrapping both arms around him, drawing him close to speak into his hair. "I had her from a puppy, but she died last year. Heart problems."

"He cried for a whole day," Tyler announced to the room, laughing when Eduardo socked him in the arm. "Like a little girl."

"Kind of like how you lost your shit when you found out that Mom had thrown away the blanket Nana made you. Which happened, like, two months ago," Cameron retorted, and Mark laughed.

"That was my blanket!" Tyler shot back, obviously still upset over the whole affair. "Nana made it for me, because I was her favorite."

"She knitted me a blanket too, you idiot."

"Yeah, but mine was nicer."

Slowly, the twins smiled fondly at each other from across the room, and Mark was gripped by a sudden inspiration. "Kiss each other," he urged quietly, watching Eduardo tense up.

"Yeah?" Tyler said softly, locking eyes with his brother.

"Oh fuck, yeah," Wardo whispered, and it only took three steps for the twins to cross the room to meet each other, their arms sliding around each other with a practiced grace. He imagined them coming together like this after classes and rowing practice, finally alone after a long day, sinking into each others' arms. Their mouths met with a knowing ease, the two of them sighing into each others' mouths as their eyelids sank closed and they sagged against each other. They kissed deeply, hungrily, their heads moving from side to side as they sought out new angles. Their mouths were open, flashes of wet, pink tongues occasionally visible as they dipped in and out.

They were a little breathless when they broke apart to breathe, pressing their foreheads together and meeting each others' eyes with a love so huge and powerful that Mark and Eduardo held their breath for a moment, watching them. "Love you, Cam," Tyler whispered huskily, sucking Cameron's lower lip into his mouth with a soft, "mmmm."

Cameron hugged him close, mumbling, "Love you," against his ear before they both seemed to remember that they weren't alone. They went a little pink as they faced Eduardo and Mark again, but their guests were wide-eyed and awed at the sight of them.

"Please," Eduardo broke the silence. "Please, let's go to bed."

Tyler pushed open the door to a bedroom, and as they passed the first one in their narrow hallway, Mark realized that it wasn't being used. The bed was still crisply made, no pictures on the walls. The only evidence of two men living there was the closet space in the first bedroom being full of clothes, but other than that it was empty. They'd been sleeping in the same bed for some time now, he realized dizzily.

Tyler was the first to pull off his sweater, tossing it unceremoniously to the floor. Fussily, Cameron knelt and picked it up, folding it over a chair. Tyler grinned at him, and Cameron winked. This was how they were in their secret, private time, Mark realized. Their swagger was still evident, but that cocky, cool, unaffected defense had melted away. Now, in the stillness of their shared bedroom, they were tender and sweet with each other. He could imagine them cuddling on rainy days, skipping class together in favor of curling up in bed in their pajamas and talking about nothing as they spooned in bed. Maybe having lazy, languid rainy-day sex before sharing a shower. His heart stuttered in his chest a little.

He'd seen them in their spandex rowing suits before, but never shirtless, and both he and Eduardo exhaled at the sight of Tyler's bare upper body. Like his brother, he was thick and muscular, soft blond hair sprouting moderately over his barrel chest, his waist lean and trim. Cameron followed suit, and then they got to enjoy the sight of it times two. They were evenly tanned, but it wasn't that kind of burnt-orangish color that happened with tanning beds, which led him to imagine them lying out on their huge lawn together in their briefs at home, their huge house empty and leaving them free to sunbathe.

"Holy fuck," he whispered to Eduardo, who could only nod mutely. Tyler arched an eyebrow at them.

"Feeling a little exposed here, fellas," he pointed out, and Wardo smiled and pulled off his own t-shirt. He was lightly golden too, a remnant of the Portuguese sun and flawless genetics. He was lean, but not milky-pale and scrawny like Mark. Still dressed, Mark experienced a brief swelling of anxiety and insecurity that felt foreign to him, and Eduardo turned to him, taking him into his arms.

"It's okay, querido," he assured him gently, kissing his lips. "You're beautiful." Mark hadn't had to say anything, and he slumped gratefully against Wardo's taller frame. "I love you so much," he went on, encouraging Mark to swiftly yank his own hoodie over his head. Cameron and Tyler approached once he had, the three of them running their hands over Mark's body.

"Wow," Cameron said. "Look at him, Ty. He's so tiny."

"Everyone's tiny compared to you lumbering trolls," Mark pointed out sharply, petulantly, and they both laughed.

"Adorable," Tyler agreed, stroking one of Mark's rosy nipples with the back of his hand, then tugging on it with his fingers and beaming when Mark inhaled sharply. "These are sensitive, huh?" he murmured thoughtfully, plucking at both of them in succession. Glancing over at Eduardo, he smirked. "Bet you love playing with them, can you make him come like this?"

"Not yet, but he likes it when I suck them, a lot. He's gotten close a few times," Eduardo responded, and Mark couldn't even find the energy to be pissed off. Cameron was standing behind Wardo, kissing the top of his shoulder in an open-mouthed suck, until Wardo tipped his head back onto Cameron's broad shoulder and moaned. The four of them kicked off their shoes and socks, shucked off their jeans, and then they were falling into the twins' thankfully enormous bed. Tyler was the first to shed his boxers, and Mark and Wardo blinked at the sight of his dick when it sprang free to slap lightly against his belly. They'd expected big, but it was...big. Both long and thick, flushed a deep pink.

Mark's mouth watered a little as the Tyler's deep musk rose into the air, and Eduardo smiled at him. "Looks good, doesn't it, babe?" he asked slyly, curling up beside Mark. "Bet you're just dying to get your mouth around it. I wonder if it'll even fit, I bet you'll choke on it. Look at you, you're fucking drooling for it."

Mark's eyes were huge, and he traced a trembling index finger up the shaft of Tyler's cock, watching it leak a bead of precome that slid wetly down to his heavy balls. Tyler groaned. "Fuck, yeah. Suck my dick, Zuckerberg."

Obligingly, Mark dipped his head low. Cameron and Eduardo watched, breathless. The head of his cock was beautifully shaped, thick and damp. He parted his lips with a soft, wet sound, and pressed a kiss to it, his tongue darting out to take a taste.

"Is it good, baby?" Wardo whispered, his tone going low and husky with lust. "You like it?"

Mark nodded helplessly, kneeling between Tyler's spread thighs now, curling his bony fingers around the base of his cock, his eyes falling closed as he wrapped his lips around the first inch of it. More precome slipped over his tongue, and he swallowed it with a light suckling that made Tyler's hips twitch. Mark's tongue lolled out of his mouth in his greed, rubbing eagerly against the underside of Tyler's thick shaft, the gently pulsing vein there. He was an anomaly, but he fucking loved the taste. He loved the heat and the weight of an erect cock against his tongue, pressing against the inner walls of his cheeks. His cheek bulged when Tyler rolled his hips up, pressing the head of his dick against the soft inner wall there, and he groaned and took it.

He could only swallow Tyler a little more than halfway, but his fingers worked insistently on the rest of his cock, stroking and jerking with little twists of his wrist. He gagged a little, but opened his throat for more, so dizzy with a half-crazed lust that he kind of wanted to choke on it. Some part of him wanted Tyler to fist his curls and force his head down, to cut off his air with his dick, to fuck his open and willing throat until he came so deeply in it that he couldn't even taste his come. He wanted Eduardo to jerk off onto his face while he did it, to experience the wet spatter of his hot come spilling over his cheeks and lips while Tyler choked him with his dick. He wanted Cameron to fuck him at the same time, wanted to be split open on his gorgeous cock, torn apart by these three men.

It wasn't until he'd heaved in a lungful of air, his head resting against Tyler's thick thigh, that he realized that he'd spoken out loud. Tyler, Cameron and Eduardo were all staring wordlessly at him, their three mouths hanging slightly open.

"...Whoa," Cameron said softly. Tyler had wrapped his fingers around the base of his own dick, not stroking but gripping gently, as if to keep himself from going off like a teenager. Eduardo ran a familiar hand up the hot, silky length of Mark's pale back, kneading a little at his bony shoulderblades.

"That's what you want, querido?" he asked tenderly, leaning over to drop a kiss to the top of Mark's head. "I think we can all get on board with that."

Mark turned his head, his body still draped over Tyler's lap, to dip his tongue into Wardo's mouth. "If you can handle another go when we're done, I want to fuck you while we watch them," he whispered to him, enjoying the way Eduardo's eyes glassed over at the sound of it. This was safe for him, directing the proceedings as if he was coding a program. The thrill of it lay in the unpredictability - humans weren't binary codes. They sometimes responded in unexpected ways, sometimes they surprised you.

Tyler sat up until he was upright on his knees on the bed, his cock angling out sharply away from his body, stiff and flushed and leaking a steady trickle of precome onto their expensive comforter. He didn't seem especially bothered however, and it occurred to Mark that all of that jogging and biking and swimming the twins did together for the sake of their rowing had to have contributed enormously to their physical stamina. "Condoms," he said simply to his brother, who nodded and rolled off the bed for a few moments to amble naked into their adjoining bathroom. The remaining three of them made no qualms about ogling his firm ass as he did so, the flexing muscles of his powerful thighs as he walked.

Eduardo murmured something in Portuguese, before settling against the length of Tyler's body. Mark watched them kiss with a lazy heat until Cameron returned with a box of condoms and a tube of unscented lube in hand. He was grateful for the twins' Spartan tastes - he'd always hated that flavored, fruity-smelling shit. It was half-gone, but there was still plenty left for them, and he enjoyed a brief moment of imagining how the rest of it had been used. Cameron climbed back into bed, welcomed by a kiss from his brother that was oddly gentle and chaste despite the fact that they were all sporting urgent erections.

Cameron's big, steady hands carefully guided Mark, both of them holding his waist to position him on all fours on the bed. "How are you doing?" he asked, running a hand over Mark's curls. His eyes sank closed at the touch, his head angling into it like a cat being petted.

"Just dandy, fuck me," he said impatiently, and Cameron laughed. It reverberated in the air, deep and chesty and low like his voice, and Mark shivered. Eduardo was kneeling in front of him too, now, and the idea struck him right as he first opened his mouth for Tyler's dick again. He suckled happily at it for a minute while Cameron rolled on his condom and slicked himself up behind him, and then he turned his head to the side and dragged his tongue up the underside of Wardo's shaft. He'd always been an exceptional multitasker, he reminded himself, establishing a rhythm of moving his head back and forth to suck Tyler for a moment, then Eduardo. His head bobbed back and forth, his throat opening a little more every time, until he could finally deep-throat Eduardo with little resistance. Tyler still proved to be a challenge.

Cameron's hand settled against his hip, his free one spreading Mark's ass open with lube-slick fingers. He didn't speak anymore, and instead pushed his thick index finger into him, about halfway. The initial stretch was always the best, that first luscious burn, that painfully sweet sensation of opening around someone. Mark groaned, and then Eduardo groaned, when it vibrated around the base of his aching cock. He drooled a little when he pulled back, precome and saliva trickling down his chin, and he knew what a total whore he looked like. He couldn't possibly have cared less.

Cameron worked him open, first with one finger, then easing a second into him and spreading them. He crooked them to press against Mark's prostate, finding it with an alarming accuracy. He made an appalling, whimpering sound, rolling his slim hips back into it as Eduardo slid a gentle hand into his hair. He stroked, petted, which felt nice, but it wasn't what Mark wanted at the moment. His only means of communicating his need was to lift his eyes toward Tyler, who somehow understood. He too rested a hand in Mark's curls, but after batting Eduardo's hand away, he fisted them roughly and yanked. Mark moaned around his dick, and Eduardo cast him an alarmed look.

He slid off of Tyler just long enough to gasp, "It's okay. I want it," and Eduardo relaxed a little, a shade of concern still evident in his dark eyes, and Mark couldn't have loved him more. His eyes rolled back in his head when Cameron pushed a third finger into his ass, alongside the first two, and the sweet burn peaked. He twisted his wrist, working them in and out of Mark until there was little resistance left, and his hands came to rest on Mark's hips again. He braced himself - even Tyler and Eduardo drew back from his dual blowjob to let him experience it without distraction.

Cameron pressed the head of his cock against his hole, and with a low sound, pushed into Mark about halfway. Mark's cry was high-pitched, plaintive in a way for which he'd never forgive himself. Even Cameron's thick fingers hadn't prepared him adequately - that stretch still happened, that luscious pain, the rough scrape of his cock against his inner walls. He opened up around him though, his body instinctively letting Cameron take what he wanted from him. His eyes watered and he fisted the sheets hard enough to tear them, but then Wardo and Tyler were there again, petting him soothingly.

He'd never known such fullness, as satisfying as Wardo always felt when he was inside of him. He felt raw, starved with a new lust. Greedily, he opened his mouth and lurched toward the two men kneeling in front of him again, and Tyler was the first to respond. He gripped the base of his cock and pressed it against Mark's lips, and when he opened for it and felt it sliding to the back of his throat to press against his soft palate, he learned a satisfaction he'd never before considered. This was what it felt like to be "stuffed with cock," as all the bad pornos called it.

Behind him, Cameron found his rhythm, rocking back and forth in and out of Mark with the same sure, powerful motion that he utilized when he and his brother were rowing. Mark turned his head to the side, latching on to Eduardo's cock and letting himself drown in the delirious pleasure of it, rolling his hips back into Cameron's thrusting. He never did acclimate entirely, flooded with a half-crazed lust that made the delicious burn easier to take. Wardo leaned over a bit to watch, sliding a hand down the length of Mark's back right as Tyler made a strangled sound and said, "I'm gonna come."

Cameron lifted his eyes to watch his brother, as Tyler curled his fingers around the base of his stiff, leaking cock and aimed it at Mark's face. He jerked himself off with short, rapid twists of his wrist, his head tipping back as a visible shudder rolled through his huge body. "Fuck, fuck," he mumbled, going still and tense all over for a split second before his orgasm sizzled through him. The first wave of it hit Mark's cheek in a wet spatter that slid down to his jawline and dripped onto the sheets. His body heaved forward with the second shot of come that slicked his lips, and he licked it off, curling his tongue back into his mouth to analyze the taste.

"Shit, Mark," Wardo hissed, and Mark lifted his face to him. It took only a brief moment before his orgasm hit, and spilled out all over Mark's face. His forehead, cheek, chin and lips were slick with come, and Cameron was still rocking back and forth in and out of his ass, his blood-hot dick throbbing through his condom now. Tyler and Wardo collapsed in front of Mark, sinking back to the bed with their arms around each other, their sweaty chests heaving as they came down together. Mark watched them settle into a lazy kiss, and arched his spine to bring Cameron more deeply into him.

"Mark, Mark," Cameron said huskily, sliding a hand up his back to grip his thick curls, yanking his head back as if to anchor himself while his thrusts went stuttery and erratic. Mark briefly lamented the condom; some part of him was desperately craving being flooded inside with Cameron's come, the feel of it spilling back out of him and slicking the insides of his thighs when he pulled out. He and Wardo hadn't used a condom in some time, and he'd developed a taste for it. But still, he moaned helplessly when Cameron came inside of him, one hand gripping his hip and the other still in his hair. Like Tyler, he went still and taut all over for a split second beforehand.

His own dick was still achingly hard, and when Cameron pulled out of him (eliciting a pained moan from Mark), Eduardo wasted no time in rolling him onto his back and kneeling eagerly between his pale, skinny thighs. Mark went, limp and pliant, weak in Wardo's hands. His eyes were still a little glassy from his orgasm, but he still dipped his head low to swallow Mark's dick down nearly all the way. Cameron pulled off his condom, tying it off and tossing it into the wastebasket by the bed, before he and Tyler curled up in each others' arms to watch. Idly, Tyler reached out and plucked at Mark's nipples with his callused fingers, tugging gently. Mark nearly wailed, his head falling back and his eyes screwing shut, and Tyler said, "Wow," with a kind of soft reverence.

He came halfway down Wardo's throat, the tip of his tongue teasing the exquisitely sensitive spot just under the head of his dick. Wardo sighed through his nose, his eyes sinking closed as he swallowed without hesitation the way he always did, his throat working it down. One hand slid upward to lace their fingers together as he finished Mark off, swirling his tongue around him one last time before he drew away. All four of them were panting, sweaty and satisfied, and there wasn't much left to say. They curled up together in a tangle of limbs, and Cameron yawned and said, "I feel gross, I want a shower," but then they were dozing off.

Mark and Eduardo awoke in the morning alone together, in the twins' bed. There was a note on expensively monogrammed stationary taped to the nightstand, in deceptively and unexpectedly elegant handwriting, a kind of loose and slanted cursive scrawl.

Morning guys,

Early classes for both of us. Take a shower, there's breakfast stuff in the kitchen, we left some coffee on for you. One of us will call one of you tonight, have a good day.

- Cam & Ty.

Gentlemen to the last, Mark thought fondly, unsure of how much he appreciated having become so attached to those two. But he and Wardo did indeed rise, sharing a shower in the bathroom adjoined to the twins' bedroom. Predictably, the shampoo and conditioner and soap and aftershave in there were unspeakably expensive and classy, and Mark felt a little guilty about using it on his wild curls, his unworthy skin. But then he remembered that he was Mark motherfucking Zuckerberg, and he soaped himself up a little defiantly. Two thick towels were folded on a rack by the sink for them, and he and Wardo went into the kitchen to eat.

Thoughtfully, one of the twins had left creamer and sugar out next to the steaming coffee maker, a loaf of bread sitting by the toaster, and a pair of bananas on the counter. "Probably Cameron," Wardo observed, and Mark nodded, resting his head on his shoulder as he watched him make toast. They ate, dressed, and left everything as it had been upon their entering the night before.

Tyler called Mark that night, and he set them up on a four-way conference call from his dorm room so they could talk while he coded. It was idle chatter, but there was something friendly and soothing about it that appealed to him immensely. When neither he nor Eduardo heard from either twin for the next several days however, he accepted with a pang of painful disappointment that their little arrangement had been a one-time event. He felt completely stupid for it, but by the end of the week, he realized that he missed the twins. "Me too," Wardo concurred, when he expressed this sentiment over their shared dinner out that Saturday evening.

But then, on Monday morning, Mark pulled a thick, ivory-colored envelope from his student mailbox in the dorm building's lobby. He recognized the artfully loose cursive scrawled across it immediately, and rushed upstairs to show Wardo, who was getting ready for class.

"Are you serious?" Wardo said, taking the envelope into his hands and turning it over. "They wrote us a letter? Who writes actual letters anymore?"

"The kind of guy who types his essays on a vintage typewriter, I guess," Mark responded, shrugging. "Open it."

The stationary was beautiful, the ink crossing it clearly not from a ballpoint pen. Cameron Winklevoss, Mark realized belatedly, was a fucking romantic. Eduardo read it out loud.

Mark and Eduardo,

Admittedly, business economics majors are not well-suited to the purpose of prose. Thusly, please don't expect much more than awkward rambling from this letter, which I promise I'll keep short.

My brother and I have both been struggling to reconcile ourselves to what happened between the four of us last week. Not because either of us has any regrets, mind you; but rather, because neither of us was prepared for the impact of our subsequent emotional response. Ever since we've been kids - babies, really - it's always been solely the two of us. We've only ever wanted each other, been emotionally intimate with each other, loved each other. Our parents barely know us anymore, and vice versa, and I won't insult your intelligence by feigning that either of us has ever dated a woman for whom we ever felt anything more than a brief and vague interest and/or fondness.

But then, we met the two of you, became ensconced in the idea of your beautiful relationship, and like the two of you, we talked about it all the time. You two fascinated us, made us want things we'd never wanted before, and like with every other aspect of our lives, we wanted to share it. What we never expected was your mutual desire, and we've been feeling as if our worlds have collided so unexpectedly and brilliantly that we were left reeling and unsure of what to do next. But after quite a bit of discussion, contemplation, we've reached a conclusion.

Let us take you out. On a date. If we're going to do this, we are going to do it properly. We won't sneak around empty parking lots to drive you back to our place for an overnight tumble once a week, you both deserve better than that and we are hardly so classless. Be dressed and ready this Friday night, we'll be picking you up at seven PM.

- C.H.W. (Though does it really matter which one of us wrote this?)

Mark and Eduardo blinked at each other when he finished, momentarily speechless. "Holy shit, he's a poet," Wardo finally said, shaking his head. "Who knew?"

"Do you want to go?" Mark asked, quietly, wondering if Wardo would be opposed to introducing this new element to their relationship.

"They're beautiful. They're fascinating. They're connected, and they want us. I don't see why not," Eduardo replied, shrugging. "If it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out. Let's do it."

"Let's do it, Mark echoed, picking up his phone. Tyler answered Cameron's number, which did not surprise him.

"We'll be there," Mark assured him.

"Of course you will," Tyler said.