A/N – I wrote this during school when I had a stupid sub in math…I was really bored and she wasn't teaching…
"…twenty-four, twenty-five and twenty-one cents." Roger stared intently at the little stack of money on the metal table. He had saved his money for almost a year. Seven hundred twenty-five dollars and twenty cents. Roger was pretty damn proud of himself. Ever since Mark had admitted to Roger that he was gay, he had had a difficult time showing Roger affection. In public, at least. So Roger made up his mind then and there to take Mark to San Francisco.
"Mark! Marky, come here a minute!" Roger hollered in the direction of their bedroom, quite loud for 7:30 in the morning.
The small blonde stumbled sleepily out of the room, pushing his glasses up his nose and running a pale hand through the spiky blonde hair.
"What?" Mark asked, an irritated tone colored his words. "I was sleeping, trying to make up for lost time from last night." He smiled, remembering the goings on from the previous night.
"Sorry…that was pretty awesome, though, wasn't it?" Roger smirked.
"Anyway, what was so important that you had to wake me up?" Mark's face twisted into a playful scowl.
"I'm taking you to San Francisco." Roger looked at Mark carefully, examining his expression.
Mark knew exactly why Roger wanted to take him, but he played oblivious, just to see what Roger would say.
"Why?"
Roger had his speech all laid out, because he wanted to be prepared in case Mark didn't understand. But when Mark looked him with all his adorable 'ignorance,' Roger completely forgot what to say.
"B…because…" He stopped
"Because I'm not touchy-feely with you in public and you want me to see that it's okay?" Mark bit his lip. That came out harsher than intended.
Roger blushed and hung his head in shame. "Yes," he muttered. "I'm sorry…I just wanted to help make you more comfortable…" He trailed off.
"Rog, this still feels kinda weird to me. I mean, from Maureen to nothing to you is a weird transition. I still need to adjust. Please, please give me some more time." Mark had noticed that he was begging and slightly whining, and had moved almost two feet towards Roger.
"Marky…" He let out a frustrated sigh. "Alright, but can we still go just to have fun? I love San Francisco." Roger hesitated. "And, um…I saved up my money for eleven months so that we could go."
Mark felt his jaw drop. He was astonished. Roger had never been able to save money for anything other than drugs. Mark was wondering whether he had borrowed money from Joanne again to buy 'groceries,' whether he had stolen someone's coke, or…
"Rog? Have you been clean the entire time?"
"Hmm? Yeah, and all for you, Marky." Roger walked the rest of the distance between the two towards Mark. Roger's large, tan hands took Mark's small pale ones in his. He leaned in towards the smaller, blonde boy's face and kissed him sweetly on the lips. Mark instantly responded and kissed Roger back. They pulled apart slowly and morphed into a hug.
Roger wound his arms around Mark's waist and the filmographer found his arms snaking around the rocker's neck. Pale fingers combed through the long, dirty blonde hair that Mark secretly adored. He threatened almost daily to attack Roger's hair in his sleep with a pair of scissors, but Mark never would, not for anything. Roger's strong, callused hands stroked the back of Mark's head and neck, an action that sent Mark's heart beating crazily every time.
"I love you," Roger muttered into the spiky blonde hair.
Mark, his usual self, blushed bright red.
He eased his way out of Roger's hold and laced his fingers through the tall, skinny boy's fingers.
He glanced up at Roger's face. It was still painted with hurt because Mark had not accepted his invitation.
"Let's go pack, baby," Mark said sweetly, smiling up at Roger.
Roger's smile was so huge that it lit up the entire city. "Okay." And the two walked hand in hand to the bedroom to pack for the trip lovingly paid for by the irresponsible Roger Davis.