Note from the author: The name really dosent have anything to do with anything. It was the name for another storyI never finished, butI like it so it stays! This is for my best friend! And just for good measure, I don't own Rent or any of the characters.
"I can't do this, Mark! Just let me go!" Roger pleaded; I think that was the first time I ever actually saw him cry. His were red and puffy and his breathing labored.I helped him to the makeshift couch in the middle of the room and covered him in a thin blanket.
"Don't move" I commanded.
I head Roger's teeth chatter as I walk into the bathroom. I sat on the couch with him, placing a damp washcloth on his forehead.
"Mark?" Roger asked, sitting up slightly to look at me.
"Yeah?"
There was no answer. "Roger?" I began to get worried.
"Roger!" I called, leaning over him and shaking him slightly. His head flopped limply from side to side. I don't think I ever heard of someone dieing of withdrawal, but I didn't want to take any chances.
"Roger! Please wake up! I…I..." I stopped just as Roger opened one of his eyes.
"Yes, Mark?" He whispered opening both of his eyes and sitting up so his face was only inches from mine.
"I…uh" I blushed, why was I getting so flustered? Roger smiled, which only made it worse. "I care about you, Roger. Even if you don't"
Roger shifted a bit causing his lips to brush up against mine, almost like a kiss. I moved back a bit, but only far enough to breath.
I inhaled deeply before taking the plunge and connecting our lips once again. I could feel his fever on my lips.
As soon as I realized what I had done I pulled away, leaving Roger looking like he was kissing the air.
"I'm sorry" I mumbled, looking down to hide my face.
"s'ok" Roger slurred, "And don't hide your face like that, you look good with a little color in your cheeks"