Yay writtings. This one's a bit more recent. A little lacking in talent still though.
We Should Star Over Again
Rent, Roger Mark (slashy, angsty)
Word count: ???
Chapters: 6
(might still work on this, a bit unsure, reviews greatly welcomed)
Mark waited up in the loft wondering when Roger was coming home. "He said he'd be home after his gig tonight and it's already 3 AM., what the fuck?!" Mark's eyes stayed fixed on the clock on the wall as he heard stairs creaking from outside the door. The door opened as Roger entered. "Roger where the hell have you been? It's 3 AM! You said you were coming home right after…!" A tipsy Roger who was more then 3 sheets in the wind stumbled as he tried to push past Mark. "Oh fuck off Mark. I can come home when I want you aren't my mother." Roger slurred with an angry demeanor.
Roger slammed the door to his room, as Mark went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and Advil. "Why do I continue to do this?" Mark sighed and went to Roger's room, to give him the Advil. Timidly Mark knocked on the door. "Roger, here, I have something for you." not receiving an answer he gingerly pushed the door open. "…Rog?" A timid voice tried to speak up. Mark noticed a motionless Roger sprawled out on the bed still fully clothed. "Well he obviously didn't have the intention of going to sleep yet." Mark smirked to himself, gently pushing the hair out of Roger's eyes. Gently stirring, Roger's eyes fluttered open. A half smirk crept up on his face as he tried to speak. "What are you doing here?" Mark tried not to laugh as Roger barely made it through a sentence. "Just take this Rog." He told him, thrusting the water and Advil in his direction. "What is it?" Roger slurred through the question. "Don't fuss, just take it. It'll help, partly now, but more so tomorrow." Roger took the pills and finished the glass of water. "Here, I'm leaving 3 more by your bed for the morning; I'm going to refill your glass. I'll be right back." Roger had just finished undressing when Mark came back. "Here ya go man, sleep well." "Hey Mark ...?" Roger asked softly, as Mark was almost out the door. "What?" "Uhhmm...nothing. Never mind. Thanks for the water." "Not a problem.” Mark smiled and watched Roger collapse on his bed and pass out.
Mark lay in his room wondering why he cared for Roger as much as he did, when it started, and how long he's been convincing himself it's been purely friendship. Mark ended up falling sleep sometime during his thoughts waking up at 10 AM. Roger followed behind him waking at the crack of noon. "Afternoon sleepy, how do you feel?" Mark chimed in from the couch as Roger stepped out of his room in boxers rubbing his eyes. "I feel like shit." Roger answered honestly, filling a glass of water at the sink, to take medicine. Looking up from the couch Mark pushed his glasses up his nose. "Hey Rog just curious how much did you drink last night?" Refusing to meet Mark's gaze Roger sat at the table with his water rubbing his head. "I don't know. But it wasn't just drinking. Some of the guys had ecstasy and weed so we smoked out, had a few hits of E and possibly 5 pitchers between us."
"Christ Rog! No wonder you feel like hell. That's a lot of shit." Mark walked into his room and fumbled with his camera.
Roger waited a few hours, mainly for his headache to subside, and partly to give Mark the chance to calm down a bit. Seeing how pissed he was when he left. "Hey Mark?" Roger called out as he knocked on Mark's door. "What Rog?" "Can I come in?" Without a response Mark opened the door. "Yeah I suppose, come in."
Roger sat on the side of Mark's bed ruffling the sheet back and forth. "Look Mark, I know I do stupid stuff. And I know I promised to come home last night. It's just that I started thinking about a bunch of things, then the guys and I did our thing, and I wasn't thinking. And I ..." Roger continued to fiddle with Mark's sheets as he spoke. Roger looked up and meet Mark's eyes, slowly leaning forward Roger brought his lips against Mark's, taking him by surprise, slowly reaching his hand up to rest on Mark's cheek. Mark slowly recoiled, showing a mixed expression of horror and surprise. "ROGER!! Wha- what the hell?!"
Roger diverted Mark's gaze, "Mark I have something to tell you." Roger could feel Mark's eyes focusing in on him. "Mark I ..." Roger took a deep breath and laid down on Mark's bed. "Mark, I love you. I love the way you're always there, the fact I can talk to you about anything, and how you look out for me. It means something to me. .... It means a lot to me actually." Roger felt himself and his emotions sink, as he just made himself completely vulnerable to his best friend.
Mark just smiled at Roger as he rested his hand on Roger's chest. Lying beside him, running a hand through the guitarist dingy blonde hair, Mark smiled and returned the kiss. "I love you too."
Roger and Mark spent the next week spending the nights with each other. Mark was laying next to Roger in his room. Running a hand down his chest "Rog ..." a small voice spoke up, just above a whisper. "Hmmm?" Roger muttered turning on is side to face Mark. "What is it Marky?" Roger grinned, poking Mark's side. Mark laughed and pushed the man’s hands away. "STOP!" Mark squealed. "And why do you keep calling me Marky? ... Anyway you promised me you were going to tell me why you got so trashed last week.”
Roger rolled his eyes, and cuddled up next to Mark wrapping his arms around him. "Just forget about it Mark, it's no big deal." "Well it's obviously a big deal if you don't wanna talk about it." Roger let out a sigh and gave Mark a kiss. Mark smiled, gently pushing him away. "No ya don't! That's great and all, but you aren't getting out of it that easily." Roger smirked, lightly playing with the belt loop on Mark's pants. "Someone knows me a little too well." Mark nodded, and watched Roger contently waiting for his answer. Taking a deep breath he kissed Mark's forehead thinking of the best way to explain it. "Let's see ... why I got trashed? Well it's mainly because I had a lot of things on my mind. The stuff going on with the band, you, seeing if I need a real job until the gigs pick up, just trying to figure me out basically. Oh and knowing I didn't keep my promise of keeping in touch with my Mom. So I was thinking about stuff back home. I still worry about Aryana and my Mom, even if I'm not home. I hate to think how my Dad could possibly treat them when he's there. I suppose that's the 'big brother' thing." Roger smirked at Mark, and pushed the hair away from his glasses. "So some where in the mists of all my thoughts, I started drinking and everything to stop my thoughts.
Mark nodded in half confusion. "Ok ... so I followed everything, except for the part about me. ... Why were you thinking about me?" Roger nodded. "Should've seen that one coming, I was ... I like you Mark. I wanna be with you. I just got confused by it. Hell it's not all that common that you're out with your band and you realize you have feelings for your best friend." Mark tried to hide the blush that crept up on his cheeks, "Oh." Gently leaning over Mark shyly gave him a kiss then ruffled the musician's hair.
Roger squealed then attempted to fix his hair. "Cohen!! You're dead!! You know you shouldn't touch the hair!" Roger jumped on Mark and began tickling him. Giving Mark a small peck on the cheek, mumbling: "Punk", as he poked him one last time. Mark pushed his hands away and attempted to catch his breath. "I'm oh so sorry." Mark gasped "How could I forget that I shouldn't mess with Roger the: "Don't touch my hair!" rugged musician?!?" "Shut up, Cohen! At least I let people touch my hair, at times, unlike someone else and his precious camera!"
Mark grunted and rolled his eyes. "Oh please! I ..." Roger looked at him firmly. "Ok! So I don't let people touch my camera." Mark shyly admitted. "Until now!" Roger informed him flashing an evil smile. Picking up the camera he pointed it towards the slender filmmaker. "Smile Mark, zoom in to Mark, who's now on the other side of the camera." Mark smiled out of nervousness. "Rog! Come on. ... Do you have to do this?" He gave Roger a pleading look. Smiling Roger set the camera on the bed, forgetting to hit the 'pause’ button, so it wouldn't record anymore. "No ... I don't have to." Roger grinned, mischievously. "But you're so cute on film." Roger bit his lip, not really believing that he had just told his best friend he was cute. Mark blushed and fumbled with the blanket. "But Rog ..." Mark attempted to look as pitiful as possible, his eyes brightened as Roger set the camera down.
Roger leaned forward and gently grabbed Mark's hand. "Come here, you!" Roger pulled Mark closer to him for a deep sensual kiss, slowly removing Mark's shirt, when he thought the other man felt comfortable. Mark fumbled with Roger's shirt, until Roger lifted his arms; Mark eagerly took the shirt off. Running a hand along Roger's chest and kissing his neck, Mark looked into Roger's eyes. "I want to be with you too." He admitted as he gently slid his hand down Roger's chest. By passing his abdomen he laid a hand on his thigh, before beginning to tug at the man’s pants, still wordlessly asking for permission.
Mark unzipped Roger's pants, allowing his hand to slide in. Gasping in pleasure at Mark's touch, Roger allowed him to continue. A small moan escaped from Roger, as Mark began to become more confident in his skills. Roger moaned and panted as he reached his end. Pulling Mark closer to him, he kissed him deeply, and his vibrant green eyes were pleading. "Stay with me tonight." Roger said with a glimmer of happiness, as he pulled Mark on top of him. "Of course!" Mark smiled, inwardly celebrating. Then laid next to Roger, allowing himself to be completely embraced. "Good night, Marky." Roger whispered softly into his neck, leaving a trail of small, soft kisses. "G'night." Mark replied rubbing Roger's arms with a wide smile.
Half way through the night Mark was awoken by a storm. Lying in bed next to a still sleeping Roger, Mark listened to the rain pounding against the windows, and the crashing of the thunder. Mesmerized by the storm Mark slinked out of bed, careful not to disturb the other man. He gave Roger a gentle kiss, and went to sit by the window, to watch the storm.
Roger stirred and went to wrap his arms around Mark, but awoke when he realized he wasn't there. Roger rubbed his eyes and stumbled out of bed, with the blanket wrapped around him. Noticing Mark at the window, Roger sat behind him, wrapping his arms and the blanket around the skinny filmmaker. "Hey." Roger said in a groggy voice.
Mark leaned against Roger's chest "Hey you." Mark stated with a smile. Roger took a glance out the window as lightning flashed across the sky. "How long have you been sitting here?" Roger asked kissing Mark's hair. "Only about 20 minutes." Mark informed the other man as he cuddled into his chest some more. "Have I missed anything good?" "Just a few lightning bolts, but there'll be more." Roger pulled the young filmmaker into him for a kiss. "So do you wanna sit here watching... or ... do you wanna go hang out on the couch?" Roger asked with a playful smile. "Couch!" Mark spoke up with an evil expression.
Roger stood up, Mark still in his arms, with the blanket still wrapped around both of them. Mark laid on the couch, with Roger on top of him, gently nipping at his neck. Mark melted at the feel of Roger's mouth on his skin, his hands drifted down the musician's muscular back. Roger slowly began to leave a trail of small wet kisses down Mark's chest, then went to unbutton his pants. Mark inhaled deeply at the touch of Roger's lips. "Oh my God, Rog!" Mark said almost breathless. Roger looked up at Mark with a smile as he finished with his hand. "Do you like?" Mark bit his lip and nodded "Mmmhmmm" he groaned releasing into Roger's hand.
Roger smiled as he zipped Mark's pants back up, and pulled the blanket up. Laying beside him, and kissing him passionately. "I love you Mark." "Love you too." Mark smiled and ran his hand through Roger's hair and down his back, and snuggled until they fell asleep.
Maureen ended up returning to the loft as the rain calmed down. She got a drink from the kitchen and noticed Mark and Roger on the couch. She went over to get a closer look. Smiling at the sight of them together she didn’t want to wake them, but decided she would ask them another time, and went to bed.
For more then three months Roger and Mark seemed to be the perfect couple. Spending days together, doing nothing of importance. Sharing nights in each others rooms and falling asleep in one another’s arms. Talking about everything that came to mind but after the novelty wore off Mark sensed something was wrong. Roger was only intimate when they were alone, barely even acting like friends when his fellow band members were around.
Mark felt abandoned and unloved when Roger's friends were around. He felt like they were putting on an act whenever anyone was around. Mark woke up one morning alone in Roger's bed, and heard voices coming from the living room. He threw on a t-shirt that was lying on the floor, and went to see who was around. Stepping into the living room Mark was greeted by Sam, Dave, and Adam. "Morning Marky." Mark turned toward the kitchen, seeing a bubbly Maureen prance toward him with a bowl of cereal. "Hey Mo..." Mark replied in a groggy voice. "What's going on?" He asked hesitantly as he began making himself a cup of tea.
Kissing Mark on the cheek Maureen shoved another bite of Peanut Butter Cap N' Crunch into her mouth. "Roger's having a band rehearsal because they have a gig in two weeks." Sitting on the counter Mark watched Roger and his band discus set lists and strum a few notes on the guitar that was turned almost all the way down. "Wonder how come he didn't tell me." Mark stated more to himself as he slowly sipped the steaming hot tea.
"Pookie, he just found out this morning. I don't think he's keeping it a secret from you." Finishing her cereal Maureen placed her bowl in the sink as Mark jumped off the counter. "Don't call me 'Pookie'." Mark stated blandly as he retreated into his room.
Maureen cautiously pushed the filmmaker’s door open. "Marky, what's wrong?" Lying restless on his bed Mark looked up when he heard Maureen's voice. "Nothing! And don't call me Marky." Maureen sat beside his feet and sighed. "Mark, that's such a lie. This is me you're talking to, I know you. What's wrong?" Mark shook his head refusing to talk. "Is it Roger?" Mark's jaw dropped at the mention of Roger's name. "I don't ... I don't know what's going on anymore." Mark looked up in amazement "Wait, how did you know about Roger?"
Maureen stared at the floor twirling her hair between her fingers. "I umm …lucky guess?" She offered a quick smile and Mark shot back an evil look. "Ok I came home one night and I saw you guys sleeping on the couch. I didn't say anything; I meant to ask you about it. But I saw the looks that you gave him. So I came to my own conclusion." Curling his knees to his chest Mark sighed heavily. "Screw you and your fucking conclusions. Okay?" Maureen tried to rub Mark's leg but was almost kicked. "Am I at least right?" She demanded as she stood up, close to walking out of his room. A moment of silence passed and Mark looked up with a tear rolling down his cheek. He just nodded, unable to speak.
"Oh Marky..." Maureen melted as she saw the tears begin to well in Mark's eyes. Wrapping her arms around him she wiped away a few of the fallen tears. "Have you tried talking to him?" She offered continuing to wipe away any tears that threaten to fall. Sniffling a little Mark managed to gain control again and stop himself from crying. "What's the point? I can't talk to him when anyone's around. And then when we're alone it's as if nothing's wrong." With a sigh Mark moved to lean against the wall. Wiping his face once more to make sure there were no traces of tears.
Maureen watched Mark for a moment taking in his every emotion, kissing his forehead she sat on the floor looking up at him. "Maybe you could talk to him after the gig. He'll be in a good mood then, if it's after, the band normally goes in different directions either for girls, drinks, or what not. It could be a good opportunity. Mark nodded taking another deep breath, resting his head against the wall. "That's probably a good idea. Thanks Mo." Giving the filmmaker a hug she headed for the door. "I'll be at The Life tonight if you still need to talk." Mark nodded then locked his bedroom door when she left. Listening to the chord progressions and chatter from outside his room Mark was unable to stop the tears from falling. "Why can't things just go right for once?" He asked himself before curling into a ball and listening to the music from the other room, concentrating heavily on the ‘wanna be rock star's’ voice.
Mark had been paying closer attention to his and Roger's "relationship" for the two weeks leading up to Roger's gig. Every day was unpredictable. Roger would be so clingy telling Mark how glad he was to have him, then for 3 days after would completely ignore him. Mark was utterly confused, happy for the days when they were close, and hurt when Roger wouldn't even acknowledge him.
Finally the day of Roger's gig came and the filmmaker was getting antsy to get the chance and the nerve and ask what was actually happening with them. Paying close attention to the set list Mark was hurt when Roger didn't play the song he promised to play for him. The band started to pack up all there stuff after the last song was played.
Waiting till Roger got outside he grabbed him by the shoulder. "What the hell was that?" Roger stared at him, eyes half glazed from drinking between sets. "What was what?" Mark took a deep breath trying his hardest not to yell. "Oh I don't know. The fact you didn't play the song you promised, hitting on your little fucking groupies and then starting to leave without me." Roger shrugged placing his guitar in the back of one of the guy’s car, so all their stuff was together. "First off, I ran out of time to play the song. Second... okay maybe I was hitting on a few of the girls. But nothing came of it now did it?!?! And lastly, I wasn't "leaving" without you. ... I was putting my stuff away." Roger bit his lip looking away from Mark. The filmmaker could always tell when he was lying. And he didn't want Mark to read anything in his eyes.
Mark's hands were clenched so tightly into a fist his knuckles were white. "That's fucking bullshit Roger, and you know it!!" Taking a step back Mark tried to calm himself. Feeling tears start to sting his eyes, he just looked at the man in front of him. "What happened to you?" He asked trying not to show signs of weakening. "What happened to us?" Roger laughed as he slammed the door to the car. "There never was an 'us'." Roger said bitterly, taking sight of the band and a few girls from the corner of his eye. "I'm gonna get going, we'll talk later."
Mark watched Roger walk off into the middle of the night. Knowing they were going out to another bar he figured trying to have a decent conversation with a drunken musician was not going to work well. "I hope you have your key!!" Mark shouted after him. "Fucking asshole…" He mumbled to himself as he walked home, kicking small pebbles all the way back to the loft.
Locking the door to the loft Mark made himself a cup of tea then went to lay down. Staring at the ceiling he felt tears streaming down his cheeks. Unsure of what was going to happen now.
It had been a week since Roger’s gig, and Mark hadn’t said a word to the other man since. He was hurt and confused, not wanting to bring in any more unwanted feelings into the mix, he avoided confrontation, mainly by trying to be out filming as much as possible.
Unfortunately Mark had to return to the loft sometime and was bound to run into the musician.
A breezy October night Mark ran out of things he found interesting to film. Figuring Roger was at band practice he went home earlier then usual. It was only 10:30 but the building was quiet and still. Silently slipping his key into the lock he pushed the door open. Putting his scarf on the counter with his camera he left his coat on, until the bitter chill wore off.
Flipping on the light to his bedroom his attention turned to a figure that was sitting on his bed. “Took you long enough to get home. Where have you been for the last week?” Throwing his coat into the corner of his room he shrugged, trying to keep his focus off the other man. “Out…” He mumbled bitterly, just wanting to lay down. “Look Mark, I want to talk to you.” Sitting on the floor a good 5 feet away from the bed, Mark looked just past Roger. “Oh really? …About what?” Roger sighed tempted to ask Mark why he had to make this so difficult. “Damn it, you know exactly what I want to talk about.” Roger sighed pacing back and forth in front of the bed. Seeing Roger get flustered brought a smile to Mark’s lips. Clearing his throat Mark pushed himself up from off the floor. “Alright, I’m here, so talk. What do you want?”
Roger smiled as he caught sight of Mark, he could be so adorable when he tried to act tough. Making his way over to the other man, he slipped his arms around his waist. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I acted like a jerk. Forgive me?” He asked softly, bringing his lips to Mark’s neck.
Getting lost in Roger’s kisses he took a deep breath, trying to keep a firm ground. “ROGER! This isn’t fair. You can’t be an asshole to me one day, then turn around and kiss me the next, expecting everything to be fine.” Mark pushed himself out of the musicians hold, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can’t do this anymore Roger. We’re either together or we’re not, none of this changing relationship status every other day. I’m done.”
Roger stared dumbfound at the other man, he rubbed the back of his neck trying to process what Mark just said. ”Wait, so now you’re fucking saying you don’t want to be with me?” Roger laughed slightly, but it was more in agitation then finding humor in the situation. Mark stated completely still with his eyes focused on the floor. “Not when you’re being a fucking prick, no.” Roger bit his lip trying not to get upset. “What the hell is your problem, I’m trying to apologize and you’re acting like I’m the world’s worst asshole.” Mark laughed a bit amused by the conversation. “You? The person who’s intimate with me for over five months, then turns around and says we were never together is not worthy of the title of world’s worst asshole. There is no title that could possibly describe how I feel towards you at the moment. Roger nodded rubbing his forehead. “You know what, fine then, fuck you Mark. Fuck you! I wish I’d never gotten close to you. I wish I’d never confided my feelings in you.” And with that Roger turned and slammed the door to Mark’s room, then to the door of the loft.
Mark curled up on his bed, wincing when he heard the loft door slam. Tears filled his eyes, figuring Roger was going out to get trashed and laid, and didn’t need him anymore. Like he’d said, he wished he’d never gotten close to the young filmmaker.
There's still more to come because, well I have no life so I tend to write a lot. And getting feed back is always a nice thing. I'm also going to cross post these on my writing journal so if you have that on your friends journal you can ignor the double posts when I get around to doing so. If not and you'd actually like to be added, since I made it a friends only journal let me know and I'll add you. Tired and drugged (yay hospital) and rambling. Night errm morning all. MERRY CHRISTMAS!!
Rent, Roger Mark (slashy, angsty)
Word count: ???
Chapters: 6
(might still work on this, a bit unsure, reviews greatly welcomed)
Mark waited up in the loft wondering when Roger was coming home. "He said he'd be home after his gig tonight and it's already 3 AM., what the fuck?!" Mark's eyes stayed fixed on the clock on the wall as he heard stairs creaking from outside the door. The door opened as Roger entered. "Roger where the hell have you been? It's 3 AM! You said you were coming home right after…!" A tipsy Roger who was more then 3 sheets in the wind stumbled as he tried to push past Mark. "Oh fuck off Mark. I can come home when I want you aren't my mother." Roger slurred with an angry demeanor.
Roger slammed the door to his room, as Mark went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and Advil. "Why do I continue to do this?" Mark sighed and went to Roger's room, to give him the Advil. Timidly Mark knocked on the door. "Roger, here, I have something for you." not receiving an answer he gingerly pushed the door open. "…Rog?" A timid voice tried to speak up. Mark noticed a motionless Roger sprawled out on the bed still fully clothed. "Well he obviously didn't have the intention of going to sleep yet." Mark smirked to himself, gently pushing the hair out of Roger's eyes. Gently stirring, Roger's eyes fluttered open. A half smirk crept up on his face as he tried to speak. "What are you doing here?" Mark tried not to laugh as Roger barely made it through a sentence. "Just take this Rog." He told him, thrusting the water and Advil in his direction. "What is it?" Roger slurred through the question. "Don't fuss, just take it. It'll help, partly now, but more so tomorrow." Roger took the pills and finished the glass of water. "Here, I'm leaving 3 more by your bed for the morning; I'm going to refill your glass. I'll be right back." Roger had just finished undressing when Mark came back. "Here ya go man, sleep well." "Hey Mark ...?" Roger asked softly, as Mark was almost out the door. "What?" "Uhhmm...nothing. Never mind. Thanks for the water." "Not a problem.” Mark smiled and watched Roger collapse on his bed and pass out.
Mark lay in his room wondering why he cared for Roger as much as he did, when it started, and how long he's been convincing himself it's been purely friendship. Mark ended up falling sleep sometime during his thoughts waking up at 10 AM. Roger followed behind him waking at the crack of noon. "Afternoon sleepy, how do you feel?" Mark chimed in from the couch as Roger stepped out of his room in boxers rubbing his eyes. "I feel like shit." Roger answered honestly, filling a glass of water at the sink, to take medicine. Looking up from the couch Mark pushed his glasses up his nose. "Hey Rog just curious how much did you drink last night?" Refusing to meet Mark's gaze Roger sat at the table with his water rubbing his head. "I don't know. But it wasn't just drinking. Some of the guys had ecstasy and weed so we smoked out, had a few hits of E and possibly 5 pitchers between us."
"Christ Rog! No wonder you feel like hell. That's a lot of shit." Mark walked into his room and fumbled with his camera.
Roger waited a few hours, mainly for his headache to subside, and partly to give Mark the chance to calm down a bit. Seeing how pissed he was when he left. "Hey Mark?" Roger called out as he knocked on Mark's door. "What Rog?" "Can I come in?" Without a response Mark opened the door. "Yeah I suppose, come in."
Roger sat on the side of Mark's bed ruffling the sheet back and forth. "Look Mark, I know I do stupid stuff. And I know I promised to come home last night. It's just that I started thinking about a bunch of things, then the guys and I did our thing, and I wasn't thinking. And I ..." Roger continued to fiddle with Mark's sheets as he spoke. Roger looked up and meet Mark's eyes, slowly leaning forward Roger brought his lips against Mark's, taking him by surprise, slowly reaching his hand up to rest on Mark's cheek. Mark slowly recoiled, showing a mixed expression of horror and surprise. "ROGER!! Wha- what the hell?!"
Roger diverted Mark's gaze, "Mark I have something to tell you." Roger could feel Mark's eyes focusing in on him. "Mark I ..." Roger took a deep breath and laid down on Mark's bed. "Mark, I love you. I love the way you're always there, the fact I can talk to you about anything, and how you look out for me. It means something to me. .... It means a lot to me actually." Roger felt himself and his emotions sink, as he just made himself completely vulnerable to his best friend.
Mark just smiled at Roger as he rested his hand on Roger's chest. Lying beside him, running a hand through the guitarist dingy blonde hair, Mark smiled and returned the kiss. "I love you too."
Roger and Mark spent the next week spending the nights with each other. Mark was laying next to Roger in his room. Running a hand down his chest "Rog ..." a small voice spoke up, just above a whisper. "Hmmm?" Roger muttered turning on is side to face Mark. "What is it Marky?" Roger grinned, poking Mark's side. Mark laughed and pushed the man’s hands away. "STOP!" Mark squealed. "And why do you keep calling me Marky? ... Anyway you promised me you were going to tell me why you got so trashed last week.”
Roger rolled his eyes, and cuddled up next to Mark wrapping his arms around him. "Just forget about it Mark, it's no big deal." "Well it's obviously a big deal if you don't wanna talk about it." Roger let out a sigh and gave Mark a kiss. Mark smiled, gently pushing him away. "No ya don't! That's great and all, but you aren't getting out of it that easily." Roger smirked, lightly playing with the belt loop on Mark's pants. "Someone knows me a little too well." Mark nodded, and watched Roger contently waiting for his answer. Taking a deep breath he kissed Mark's forehead thinking of the best way to explain it. "Let's see ... why I got trashed? Well it's mainly because I had a lot of things on my mind. The stuff going on with the band, you, seeing if I need a real job until the gigs pick up, just trying to figure me out basically. Oh and knowing I didn't keep my promise of keeping in touch with my Mom. So I was thinking about stuff back home. I still worry about Aryana and my Mom, even if I'm not home. I hate to think how my Dad could possibly treat them when he's there. I suppose that's the 'big brother' thing." Roger smirked at Mark, and pushed the hair away from his glasses. "So some where in the mists of all my thoughts, I started drinking and everything to stop my thoughts.
Mark nodded in half confusion. "Ok ... so I followed everything, except for the part about me. ... Why were you thinking about me?" Roger nodded. "Should've seen that one coming, I was ... I like you Mark. I wanna be with you. I just got confused by it. Hell it's not all that common that you're out with your band and you realize you have feelings for your best friend." Mark tried to hide the blush that crept up on his cheeks, "Oh." Gently leaning over Mark shyly gave him a kiss then ruffled the musician's hair.
Roger squealed then attempted to fix his hair. "Cohen!! You're dead!! You know you shouldn't touch the hair!" Roger jumped on Mark and began tickling him. Giving Mark a small peck on the cheek, mumbling: "Punk", as he poked him one last time. Mark pushed his hands away and attempted to catch his breath. "I'm oh so sorry." Mark gasped "How could I forget that I shouldn't mess with Roger the: "Don't touch my hair!" rugged musician?!?" "Shut up, Cohen! At least I let people touch my hair, at times, unlike someone else and his precious camera!"
Mark grunted and rolled his eyes. "Oh please! I ..." Roger looked at him firmly. "Ok! So I don't let people touch my camera." Mark shyly admitted. "Until now!" Roger informed him flashing an evil smile. Picking up the camera he pointed it towards the slender filmmaker. "Smile Mark, zoom in to Mark, who's now on the other side of the camera." Mark smiled out of nervousness. "Rog! Come on. ... Do you have to do this?" He gave Roger a pleading look. Smiling Roger set the camera on the bed, forgetting to hit the 'pause’ button, so it wouldn't record anymore. "No ... I don't have to." Roger grinned, mischievously. "But you're so cute on film." Roger bit his lip, not really believing that he had just told his best friend he was cute. Mark blushed and fumbled with the blanket. "But Rog ..." Mark attempted to look as pitiful as possible, his eyes brightened as Roger set the camera down.
Roger leaned forward and gently grabbed Mark's hand. "Come here, you!" Roger pulled Mark closer to him for a deep sensual kiss, slowly removing Mark's shirt, when he thought the other man felt comfortable. Mark fumbled with Roger's shirt, until Roger lifted his arms; Mark eagerly took the shirt off. Running a hand along Roger's chest and kissing his neck, Mark looked into Roger's eyes. "I want to be with you too." He admitted as he gently slid his hand down Roger's chest. By passing his abdomen he laid a hand on his thigh, before beginning to tug at the man’s pants, still wordlessly asking for permission.
Mark unzipped Roger's pants, allowing his hand to slide in. Gasping in pleasure at Mark's touch, Roger allowed him to continue. A small moan escaped from Roger, as Mark began to become more confident in his skills. Roger moaned and panted as he reached his end. Pulling Mark closer to him, he kissed him deeply, and his vibrant green eyes were pleading. "Stay with me tonight." Roger said with a glimmer of happiness, as he pulled Mark on top of him. "Of course!" Mark smiled, inwardly celebrating. Then laid next to Roger, allowing himself to be completely embraced. "Good night, Marky." Roger whispered softly into his neck, leaving a trail of small, soft kisses. "G'night." Mark replied rubbing Roger's arms with a wide smile.
Half way through the night Mark was awoken by a storm. Lying in bed next to a still sleeping Roger, Mark listened to the rain pounding against the windows, and the crashing of the thunder. Mesmerized by the storm Mark slinked out of bed, careful not to disturb the other man. He gave Roger a gentle kiss, and went to sit by the window, to watch the storm.
Roger stirred and went to wrap his arms around Mark, but awoke when he realized he wasn't there. Roger rubbed his eyes and stumbled out of bed, with the blanket wrapped around him. Noticing Mark at the window, Roger sat behind him, wrapping his arms and the blanket around the skinny filmmaker. "Hey." Roger said in a groggy voice.
Mark leaned against Roger's chest "Hey you." Mark stated with a smile. Roger took a glance out the window as lightning flashed across the sky. "How long have you been sitting here?" Roger asked kissing Mark's hair. "Only about 20 minutes." Mark informed the other man as he cuddled into his chest some more. "Have I missed anything good?" "Just a few lightning bolts, but there'll be more." Roger pulled the young filmmaker into him for a kiss. "So do you wanna sit here watching... or ... do you wanna go hang out on the couch?" Roger asked with a playful smile. "Couch!" Mark spoke up with an evil expression.
Roger stood up, Mark still in his arms, with the blanket still wrapped around both of them. Mark laid on the couch, with Roger on top of him, gently nipping at his neck. Mark melted at the feel of Roger's mouth on his skin, his hands drifted down the musician's muscular back. Roger slowly began to leave a trail of small wet kisses down Mark's chest, then went to unbutton his pants. Mark inhaled deeply at the touch of Roger's lips. "Oh my God, Rog!" Mark said almost breathless. Roger looked up at Mark with a smile as he finished with his hand. "Do you like?" Mark bit his lip and nodded "Mmmhmmm" he groaned releasing into Roger's hand.
Roger smiled as he zipped Mark's pants back up, and pulled the blanket up. Laying beside him, and kissing him passionately. "I love you Mark." "Love you too." Mark smiled and ran his hand through Roger's hair and down his back, and snuggled until they fell asleep.
Maureen ended up returning to the loft as the rain calmed down. She got a drink from the kitchen and noticed Mark and Roger on the couch. She went over to get a closer look. Smiling at the sight of them together she didn’t want to wake them, but decided she would ask them another time, and went to bed.
For more then three months Roger and Mark seemed to be the perfect couple. Spending days together, doing nothing of importance. Sharing nights in each others rooms and falling asleep in one another’s arms. Talking about everything that came to mind but after the novelty wore off Mark sensed something was wrong. Roger was only intimate when they were alone, barely even acting like friends when his fellow band members were around.
Mark felt abandoned and unloved when Roger's friends were around. He felt like they were putting on an act whenever anyone was around. Mark woke up one morning alone in Roger's bed, and heard voices coming from the living room. He threw on a t-shirt that was lying on the floor, and went to see who was around. Stepping into the living room Mark was greeted by Sam, Dave, and Adam. "Morning Marky." Mark turned toward the kitchen, seeing a bubbly Maureen prance toward him with a bowl of cereal. "Hey Mo..." Mark replied in a groggy voice. "What's going on?" He asked hesitantly as he began making himself a cup of tea.
Kissing Mark on the cheek Maureen shoved another bite of Peanut Butter Cap N' Crunch into her mouth. "Roger's having a band rehearsal because they have a gig in two weeks." Sitting on the counter Mark watched Roger and his band discus set lists and strum a few notes on the guitar that was turned almost all the way down. "Wonder how come he didn't tell me." Mark stated more to himself as he slowly sipped the steaming hot tea.
"Pookie, he just found out this morning. I don't think he's keeping it a secret from you." Finishing her cereal Maureen placed her bowl in the sink as Mark jumped off the counter. "Don't call me 'Pookie'." Mark stated blandly as he retreated into his room.
Maureen cautiously pushed the filmmaker’s door open. "Marky, what's wrong?" Lying restless on his bed Mark looked up when he heard Maureen's voice. "Nothing! And don't call me Marky." Maureen sat beside his feet and sighed. "Mark, that's such a lie. This is me you're talking to, I know you. What's wrong?" Mark shook his head refusing to talk. "Is it Roger?" Mark's jaw dropped at the mention of Roger's name. "I don't ... I don't know what's going on anymore." Mark looked up in amazement "Wait, how did you know about Roger?"
Maureen stared at the floor twirling her hair between her fingers. "I umm …lucky guess?" She offered a quick smile and Mark shot back an evil look. "Ok I came home one night and I saw you guys sleeping on the couch. I didn't say anything; I meant to ask you about it. But I saw the looks that you gave him. So I came to my own conclusion." Curling his knees to his chest Mark sighed heavily. "Screw you and your fucking conclusions. Okay?" Maureen tried to rub Mark's leg but was almost kicked. "Am I at least right?" She demanded as she stood up, close to walking out of his room. A moment of silence passed and Mark looked up with a tear rolling down his cheek. He just nodded, unable to speak.
"Oh Marky..." Maureen melted as she saw the tears begin to well in Mark's eyes. Wrapping her arms around him she wiped away a few of the fallen tears. "Have you tried talking to him?" She offered continuing to wipe away any tears that threaten to fall. Sniffling a little Mark managed to gain control again and stop himself from crying. "What's the point? I can't talk to him when anyone's around. And then when we're alone it's as if nothing's wrong." With a sigh Mark moved to lean against the wall. Wiping his face once more to make sure there were no traces of tears.
Maureen watched Mark for a moment taking in his every emotion, kissing his forehead she sat on the floor looking up at him. "Maybe you could talk to him after the gig. He'll be in a good mood then, if it's after, the band normally goes in different directions either for girls, drinks, or what not. It could be a good opportunity. Mark nodded taking another deep breath, resting his head against the wall. "That's probably a good idea. Thanks Mo." Giving the filmmaker a hug she headed for the door. "I'll be at The Life tonight if you still need to talk." Mark nodded then locked his bedroom door when she left. Listening to the chord progressions and chatter from outside his room Mark was unable to stop the tears from falling. "Why can't things just go right for once?" He asked himself before curling into a ball and listening to the music from the other room, concentrating heavily on the ‘wanna be rock star's’ voice.
Mark had been paying closer attention to his and Roger's "relationship" for the two weeks leading up to Roger's gig. Every day was unpredictable. Roger would be so clingy telling Mark how glad he was to have him, then for 3 days after would completely ignore him. Mark was utterly confused, happy for the days when they were close, and hurt when Roger wouldn't even acknowledge him.
Finally the day of Roger's gig came and the filmmaker was getting antsy to get the chance and the nerve and ask what was actually happening with them. Paying close attention to the set list Mark was hurt when Roger didn't play the song he promised to play for him. The band started to pack up all there stuff after the last song was played.
Waiting till Roger got outside he grabbed him by the shoulder. "What the hell was that?" Roger stared at him, eyes half glazed from drinking between sets. "What was what?" Mark took a deep breath trying his hardest not to yell. "Oh I don't know. The fact you didn't play the song you promised, hitting on your little fucking groupies and then starting to leave without me." Roger shrugged placing his guitar in the back of one of the guy’s car, so all their stuff was together. "First off, I ran out of time to play the song. Second... okay maybe I was hitting on a few of the girls. But nothing came of it now did it?!?! And lastly, I wasn't "leaving" without you. ... I was putting my stuff away." Roger bit his lip looking away from Mark. The filmmaker could always tell when he was lying. And he didn't want Mark to read anything in his eyes.
Mark's hands were clenched so tightly into a fist his knuckles were white. "That's fucking bullshit Roger, and you know it!!" Taking a step back Mark tried to calm himself. Feeling tears start to sting his eyes, he just looked at the man in front of him. "What happened to you?" He asked trying not to show signs of weakening. "What happened to us?" Roger laughed as he slammed the door to the car. "There never was an 'us'." Roger said bitterly, taking sight of the band and a few girls from the corner of his eye. "I'm gonna get going, we'll talk later."
Mark watched Roger walk off into the middle of the night. Knowing they were going out to another bar he figured trying to have a decent conversation with a drunken musician was not going to work well. "I hope you have your key!!" Mark shouted after him. "Fucking asshole…" He mumbled to himself as he walked home, kicking small pebbles all the way back to the loft.
Locking the door to the loft Mark made himself a cup of tea then went to lay down. Staring at the ceiling he felt tears streaming down his cheeks. Unsure of what was going to happen now.
It had been a week since Roger’s gig, and Mark hadn’t said a word to the other man since. He was hurt and confused, not wanting to bring in any more unwanted feelings into the mix, he avoided confrontation, mainly by trying to be out filming as much as possible.
Unfortunately Mark had to return to the loft sometime and was bound to run into the musician.
A breezy October night Mark ran out of things he found interesting to film. Figuring Roger was at band practice he went home earlier then usual. It was only 10:30 but the building was quiet and still. Silently slipping his key into the lock he pushed the door open. Putting his scarf on the counter with his camera he left his coat on, until the bitter chill wore off.
Flipping on the light to his bedroom his attention turned to a figure that was sitting on his bed. “Took you long enough to get home. Where have you been for the last week?” Throwing his coat into the corner of his room he shrugged, trying to keep his focus off the other man. “Out…” He mumbled bitterly, just wanting to lay down. “Look Mark, I want to talk to you.” Sitting on the floor a good 5 feet away from the bed, Mark looked just past Roger. “Oh really? …About what?” Roger sighed tempted to ask Mark why he had to make this so difficult. “Damn it, you know exactly what I want to talk about.” Roger sighed pacing back and forth in front of the bed. Seeing Roger get flustered brought a smile to Mark’s lips. Clearing his throat Mark pushed himself up from off the floor. “Alright, I’m here, so talk. What do you want?”
Roger smiled as he caught sight of Mark, he could be so adorable when he tried to act tough. Making his way over to the other man, he slipped his arms around his waist. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I acted like a jerk. Forgive me?” He asked softly, bringing his lips to Mark’s neck.
Getting lost in Roger’s kisses he took a deep breath, trying to keep a firm ground. “ROGER! This isn’t fair. You can’t be an asshole to me one day, then turn around and kiss me the next, expecting everything to be fine.” Mark pushed himself out of the musicians hold, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can’t do this anymore Roger. We’re either together or we’re not, none of this changing relationship status every other day. I’m done.”
Roger stared dumbfound at the other man, he rubbed the back of his neck trying to process what Mark just said. ”Wait, so now you’re fucking saying you don’t want to be with me?” Roger laughed slightly, but it was more in agitation then finding humor in the situation. Mark stated completely still with his eyes focused on the floor. “Not when you’re being a fucking prick, no.” Roger bit his lip trying not to get upset. “What the hell is your problem, I’m trying to apologize and you’re acting like I’m the world’s worst asshole.” Mark laughed a bit amused by the conversation. “You? The person who’s intimate with me for over five months, then turns around and says we were never together is not worthy of the title of world’s worst asshole. There is no title that could possibly describe how I feel towards you at the moment. Roger nodded rubbing his forehead. “You know what, fine then, fuck you Mark. Fuck you! I wish I’d never gotten close to you. I wish I’d never confided my feelings in you.” And with that Roger turned and slammed the door to Mark’s room, then to the door of the loft.
Mark curled up on his bed, wincing when he heard the loft door slam. Tears filled his eyes, figuring Roger was going out to get trashed and laid, and didn’t need him anymore. Like he’d said, he wished he’d never gotten close to the young filmmaker.
There's still more to come because, well I have no life so I tend to write a lot. And getting feed back is always a nice thing. I'm also going to cross post these on my writing journal so if you have that on your friends journal you can ignor the double posts when I get around to doing so. If not and you'd actually like to be added, since I made it a friends only journal let me know and I'll add you. Tired and drugged (yay hospital) and rambling. Night errm morning all. MERRY CHRISTMAS!!