Then
Mark never liked any of his friends to be sad, but then again, would anyone? He just never imagined that it would be this that happened. Why did it have to be April who died? Mark had never liked the girl much- he wasn't that fond of any of the girls his roommate brought home, but for Roger's sake, he almost hoped that April would be around for a while. She made him so happy, and that was all Mark really wanted, really. If Roger was happy, then so was Mark.
It's not like Mark wasn't jealous. It might not have been a huge deal if he hadn't known that Maureen was cheating on him. But when she started not coming back to the loft until late, or sometimes the next morning, it was becoming obvious even to him. Though it was Roger who pointed it out ("You do know that Maureen's been sleeping with someone else, right?").
The thing about Roger though, Mark had found, was that when he was pining away from someone, he tended to flirt with anyone else he came in contact with. Sometimes that was the random people on the street, sometimes that was Collins, but usually it was him, Mark. And Mark never complained, because it was just Roger's way of coping. But sometimes Mark wondered if the flirting had any reality in it, or if it was all mindless.
This time, with April, it was different. Roger became clingy, following Mark around the loft, refusing to leave his side. When Mark went out, Roger moped around- he would come back to find his roommate sitting in the exact same position he was when he left, perched on the table, guitar in hand but never played, or silently stirring a cup of tea while staring at the door wistfully.
It wasn't like Roger, and Mark was slightly nervous. He had never seen Roger quite this upset before, and he wasn't sure what he could do to help. Mark tried to just brush Roger off, laughing as if he couldn't sense the longing in his voice. But he could. Maybe Roger wanted companionship, or maybe he just missed fucking his girlfriend. It didn't really make a difference in the long run.
And then one day everything changed. It came out of the blue, neither of them were expecting it. One minute they were sitting next to each other eating breakfast, and the next, Roger leaned over and pressed his lips to Mark's. Taken aback, Mark jumped, and Roger, startled by Mark's sudden movement, turned abruptly away, one of his hands resting on the tabletop, and the other holding his head.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I just thought you would-" Mark placed his hand over Roger's and the man turned to look at him.
"What about April, Rog?" Mark asked, concern in his voice.
"She's gone," Roger replied hoarsely. "I need… something… someone… I need you, Mark."
"Oh my god," Mark muttered, a blush creeping into his cheeks. "You've got to be kidding me." But he squeezed Roger's hand tighter and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. "I'm here if you need me Roger," he whispered.
Then Roger started shaking, and it wasn't until Mark felt something wet on his sleeve that he realized Roger was actually crying. "Shh, Roger, it's going to be okay," he said, awkwardly patting his friend's back. he had no clue what to do in these situations, but while Roger was content to rest his head on Mark's shoulder, Mark was content to be there with him.