Eduardo is a Douche.

Jon awoke to a warm arm strewn over his blanketed midsection.
He smiled and snuggled up under the covers, readily going back to sleep.
The body next to him stirred. Only a minute after he'd fell back to sleep he was woken again with shouting.
"Was goin' on?" He slurred sleepily.
Eduardo greeted him, standing in a defensive position near the bed.
"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU IN MY BED?!"
Jon jumped, " you're in my bed...Don't You remember-?"
"I DON'T EVEN WANT TO KNOW," Eduardo cut him off and stomped out.
Jon glanced down at his comforter disappointed, he shouldn't have hoped for anything less.

He sulked until later that morning, when the faint the smell of eggs and bacon wafted into his room from downstairs.
He immediately came down to the kitchen, where he sat at the table patiently for breakfast. His mind still lingered to the night before and the result. It plagued him as he picked at the table cloth nervously until he accidentally ripped it.
He'd immediately covered the imperfection with a cup just as Mark turned to hand him a plate.
"EDUARDO!" the blonde called, "breakfast is ready!"
Several quiet minutes later Eduardo trudged in, sitting across from  Jon.
He grabbed his food from the purple sweater clad man with a gruff "thankyou."
Jon squirmed in his seat uncomfortably as he watched the man stab his food with his fork repeatedly.
Eduardo glanced up at him angrily and Jon immediately looked down at his own food.
To ignore conversation he began shoveling his breakfast down, loving the taste much better than cereal or hospital food.
"Jon chew with your mouth closed, it's distgusting."
Jon whipped his head up in surprise and swallowed before answering, "but I dont-"
Eduardo cut him off, "better yet, go eat somewhere else."
Jon shut his mouth, picked up his plate and left the kitchen.

Mark glared at Eduardo, "must you be so crude to him?"
Eduardo huffed, "he's too stupid to understand I'm being, 'crude,' dumpass probably doesnt know what that means anyway."

Eduardo continued eating, ignoring the small pang of guilt in his chest.

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