Disclaimer: I own nothing, obviously.
A/N: This is my first Rent fanfic! Hope you enjoy it.
Roger says that they can't happen. That they won't happen. That they, he and Mark, are a mistake.
"This can't happen." Roger says for what seems like the millionth time today. Sea-green eyes meet blue ones, bright behind their square-shaped glasses. Roger's voice is urgent and strained, though he makes no attempt to push Mark away.
The two men sit thigh-to-thigh, Mark's small, bony hand grips tight to Roger's larger, rougher, and ultimately, more reluctant one. After knowing one another for so many years, it is almost physically impossible for either one of them to feel uncomfortable in the other's presence.
This is wrong and they both know it.
Roger is only the slightest bit tense, though he has good reason. Mimi is just down the street. The fact that the sun has almost sunk completely down behind the New York City skyline and that Mimi won't be back for a couple of hours at the very least does little to comfort him.
Silence threatens to swallow the two young men whole. Mark speaks, his voice meek, shy, and unmistakably afraid. "What about Mimi?"
"Fuck her." Roger replies bitterly. He hasn't the slightest idea why he is even giving Mimi another chance. Roger considers himself to be the foolish one. Mimi and Benny have history. It is only natural that Mimi run to the one person who could love her completely, who wouldn't push her to get clean. She was a cheater. Stupid, stupid girl. Stupid addict.
Mimi is not April. She is not Mark. She will never be Mark. She is, at best, a coping mechanism, a vessel for his denial.
And even now as they sit in silence, Roger knows that he and Mark can never be. He's not stupid and neither is Mark. They both know that Roger's end is coming. It's fate. Simply unavoidable. Roger knows that he's dying and he remains as stubborn as always, not wanting to bring Mark down with him.
Roger tells himself that that's the reason why he's allowed this thing, whatever it is, with Mark to happen. That's the reason why Mark is currently resting a hand on Roger's leg, why Roger's arm is around the young cameraman's waist. He's just desperate, that's all. Desperate and dying slowly. They're friends. Doing what friends do, helping each other cope.
Roger can't love Mark like that. And not because it would be morally wrong; because it's not, not in Roger's eyes. But because this isn't supposed to happen to him. He isn't supposed to feel like this, not about Mark.
And he has no idea what's going through Mark's mind at the moment. Roger doesn't even want to begin to think about that. He knows that doing so will only cause him more grief than he needs. He doesn't know
whether this is right or whether they should keep going, but they have past the point of rational thinking. There is no turning back.
Roger is conflicted. "I can't do this," he says, shoving Mark away harder than he means to and getting up, careful to keep his back to his friend. "I'm sorry."
It is quiet. Mark sighs and stands up too. "Roger." He places a hand on Roger's shoulder. Roger moves his shoulder from under Mark's grip in one swift, easy motion and he turns to face Mark once more. "I'm not-"
"Don't-" Roger interrupts. "Don't say anything."
There is a moment in which the two men just stare at one another. Roger doesn't seem to be able to come up with anything else to say. And just as Mark has always done, he obeys Roger and remains silent. The sun has set now and the loft is almost completely dark, save for the light of the moon, its bars slipping in through the large glass window, painting the room a dull grey color.
In the darkness, Roger's hands fumble for a moment before finding Mark's. Mark looks down at their fingers so tightly intertwined. His eyes are wide and disbelief is etched into every single line, though they are not many, of the young man's face. It is almost as if Mark has been waiting for this moment for a very long time.
"Roger-" Mark begins, his need to fill the silence almost overwhelming him.
Roger smiles wearily, looking nervous. "Don't say anything," he repeats. Mark obeys. The quiet engulfs them again and Mark looks disoriented. He's swaying slightly, obviously nervous. Roger swallows hard.
And then suddenly, they're kissing. Mark is in shock and can only stand, frozen, unable to move. Roger's mouth is rough and urgent as it moves against Mark's. He is impulsive and for the first time, seems to be unsure of himself. And as the moments pass, too fast for either of their liking, Mark becomes more willing, eager. His arms somehow snake their way around Roger's neck. Hands travel blindly, unsure of what to do, afraid that they might run out of time.
Finally, Roger pulls away roughly. So roughly in fact, that Mark stumbles back from the force of it. Mark's eyes are wide as he stares at Roger. Roger stares back, his face expressionless.
Mark isn't as good at his friend is at hiding his own emotions, at least, not at this particular moment. The hurt is written all over Mark's face, his bottom lip quivers slightly. He feels betrayed.
Roger swallows hard; his throat is dry, his breathing still heavy. "Mark..." his voice trails off. "I'm sorry. I-"
Mark shakes his head and this time, it is his turn to interrupt. "No, I get it," he sighs deeply and shrugs his shoulders. "I mean you're not..." Mark's voice trails off meaningfully. "I just thought- Since we-" Mark quiets himself, seeing that he is getting nowhere.
Roger looks down at the ground, unable to meet Mark's eyes. Despite the fact that Roger is certainly not about to voice his opinions out loud or share his feelings with Mark, he just can't deny that kissing Mark had felt good. Better than it should have. It had felt right. But he had Mimi and this was wrong. So, so wrong. Still his stomach is doing flips, warm, exhilarated from the kiss and his heartbeat has not yet returned to its normal rate.
"This can't happen." Roger says.
Mark is silent, this time of his own accord and not because Roger is telling him to remain so.
"I can't m-" Roger sighs. "I can't lose you."
Mark shakes his head, though he understands. A sigh escapes his lips and he walks past his friend and out the front. There is a crash of metal on metal as the entrance door slams shut. Roger is alone.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading! Please review.