Post RENT eventual Mark x Roger Rated T for language/ suggestion.
Disclaimer: I don't own RENT or anything related, no matter how much I wish I did. Especially Roger.
"Why can't I write a fucking song?" Roger thought aloud, sprawled on the ragged couch in the loft, his battered guitar across his lap.
Mark was out shooting a new segment for Buzzline, his first after renegotiating his contract for a more freelance schedule. It was times like this when Roger pulled out his guitar and tried to write something. Just feeling the strings under his fingers brought back painful memories, but they needed the money. Mark's stuff was great, but he couldn't mooch off his best friend forever. The whole reason they came to New York was to be independent, and he was the only one NOT living it.
'The only thing I've written since I left the band, was the song for Mimi, it took a pathetic year then I buried it with her casket. Now I'm going to die a nobody, like April, like Angel, like Mimi.'
He thought about turning back to drugs, some of his best shows, so he was told, happened when he was too high to remember. No, Mark had worked too hard and put up with too much to get him clean to go back now. Their group was thinning fast enough, he didn't need to add to it, and leave Mark ultimately alone.
"Hey." Mark called, opening the door.
Roger looked over with little to no interest and called out a half-hearted response.
"I found a job for you." Mark said, putting away his coat, scarf and beloved camera.
He had Roger's full attention now. He put his guitar on the floor under the coffee table.
"No fucking way!" he said trying to sound excited.
"Yeah! Buzzline's looking for a music expert to do a local up-and-coming bands segment."
Roger looked at him in disbelief. Mark was trying to put him back into the music scene. Music was the whole reason he was so fucked up. He would probably get hooked on drugs again, but he wanted to try. This would be the ultimate test, and he needed to prove to Mark that he could do something right.
"Thanks"
Mark looked over at his depressed roommate, he could see the beginnings of a smile playing on his lips. Those lips. No, he couldn't think about that right now. Roger was his best friend. That's all.
"We should go out and celebrate." He said trying to avoid looking at Roger.
"With what money?"
"I dunno, we could call Collins, he's always got something."
"I don't even have the job yet. It's a little early to celebrate."
"Or we could just stay here."
Mark looked down at his feet. He hadn't really gone out since Maureen dumped him, hell he hadn't gotten laid since Maureen dumped him and it was coming up on a year now since she had broken the news to him about Joanne. Needless to say it had been a long year, in more ways that one.
He let his mind wander, the sudden spark in Roger's eyes after he mentioned the job turned him on beyond belief. No, he repeated to himself. It's Roger. You had Maureen, he had Mimi and April. There couldn't possibly be anything between you two. It couldn't work. It shouldn't work.
He glanced up. Roger was staring at him, glassy eyed.
"It's still early, I could set up a formal interview for you." Mark offered, for the sake of conversation.
"Mark." Roger whispered.
Mark wasn't sure he could respond. He managed to squeak out a "yeah."
"I … don't know."
Mark was tired of playing around, he had to take the chance.
"Yes you do," he whispered softly "because I feel it too."
Roger couldn't believe his pierced ears. He also couldn't hold back anymore. He needed something to make him feel alive again. How could it have taken this long for him to realize everything the filmmaker did turned him on? The way he looked behind the camera, the look on his face when the precious camera was in danger, the way he slept- curled softly like a little kid, the way his light blue eyes exposed everything, the way he mumbled to himself in the shower. Roger had it bad.
"Mark."
"Yeah?"
"I think I'm in love with you."
"Prove it."
Please review. i'll continue if i get enough of a response/suggestions.