Title: Model Prisoner
Pairing: Mark/Roger
Warning: Slashy...Pg-13ish type stuff
Summary: Songfic to "Model Prisoner" by Adam Pascal. shamelessly plugs "Model Prisoner" and "Civilian"...FABULOUSITY!
Disclaimers: Do I own? NO! Do I look like Jonathan Larson? No, I do not. I do not think he was a 16 year old chica. I am also not Adam Pascal...I don't pretend to be him. Now that's cleared up...ONTO THE STORY!
Denotes lyrics
Roger was holding a notebook, watching Mark fiddle with his camera. His pen hovered above the page as he willed lyrics to come out that would tell Mark how much Roger was in love with him.
The phone rang.
"Mark!" Maureen's whiny voice cut through the air. (AN: I have nothing against Maureen...this is Roger's viewpoint...he doesn't like Maureen shrugs don't ask me why.)
Mark sighed and moved towards the phone.
"Let her go," Roger said, surprised at his own words. "I mean let it go."
Mark halted for a second, then sent a small fake smile across the room as he picked up the phone. "Hey Maureen. Look, I'm...of course...Post-modern Goddess? I guess...yes, Maureen...the one and only. Bye Maureen."
"What did she want?" Roger asked.
"Nothing. Just reassurance that her life has meaning," Mark grinned. "I'm a sucker, right?"
Roger didn't answer, his pen had taken on a life of its own, writing furiously on the paper:
Did you begin to tell her all the things she wants to hear?
And, did you, on the phone, say, "You are the one"?
And did you waste time starving your heart,
Waiting in line for her?
Mark shrugged again, "Guess I'm just stuck in a prison named Maureen Johnston. Maybe I'll get time off for good behavior."
You're a model prisoner, the only time you miss her
Fighting the darkness wide awake
You're a model prisoner
About the only risk you'll, you'll have to take is to escape
"You're wrapped around her finger," Roger scolded.
"But only evil can look that good," Mark smiled in his quirky way and begun to hum "Tainted Love".
Slip through mercury fingers, hold on to hands that feign divine
Swallow tainted love, washed down with bitter wine
Swallow tainted love, washed down with bitter wine
"I need a life boat," Mark laughed, "Somewhere to escape to."
Roger looked up, "You need someone to rescue you. And I know just who can do that."
Mark leaned against the wall, "Who?"
Roger stood up and closed the distance between them in only a few steps. He grabbed Mark's face and kissed him./ He poured all the love he had into Mark's body, trying not to leap for joy when he felt Mark kissing him back. Mark's arms wound around Roger's neck, pulling his body closer.
The phone rang again. Startled, Mark and Roger jumped back from each other.
Roger smiled and grabbed his forsaken pen and notebook.
It isn't often that you can be saved by an everlasting love
But when we're broken, we hate to be broken
It's hard enough to breathe in and out
Or is it hard enough to come down from the clouds?
Mark grinned and moved toward Roger.
Then the answering machine picked up, "Mark? Marky, pick up now," Maureen's voice demanded.
Mark began to walk toward the phone as Maureen continued to plead for him to pick up the phone.
Roger scrawled one last sentence: Did you ever find your way back home? He turned to go.
"Wait," Mark called. When Roger looked at him, he saw Mark triumphantly holding the newlyt unplugged phone cord in his hand. "That felt...really good."
Roger smiled and walked slowly up to Mark, "So, does this mean-"
He would have finished his sentence, but Mark was kissing him and it felt too good for words.
They woke up the next morning to a loud screech, "Mark? Roger? What the hell is this!"
Mark blinked owlishly up and could vaguely distinguish a Maureen-shape standing over the bed where a naked Mark was curled up with an equally naked Roger. Mark closed his eyes and said, "Go away, Maureen." He snuggled into Roger's strong chest and as he drifted back to sleep, he could barely hear the door slam as Maureen left.