A/N- The song lyrics are from Josh Groban's You're Still You. If you've never heard his amazing voice, go get one of his CD's, 'cause his voice ranks up there with Anthony Rapp, Michael Crawford, and Adam Pascal. And if you've never heard them, then you have got some issues! Not that issues are a bad thing, but… Anyway, I know this is pretty shitty (heh heh, I made a rhyme!) so please R&R and tell me how to write, because I've never written an actual story here, only really shitty poetry.
You're Still You
Roger Davis sat on the dilapidated couch, guitar in his callused hands, trying to force the music that he knew was within him to flow out. There was so much overpowering emotion, but nothing distinct, nothing expressible. He thought hard for about a minute before striking a random chord and making a face in disgust.
His roommate, Mark Cohen, looked up from his black camera that he was devotedly fiddling with. Mark bit his lip, watching Roger run his fingers through his hair in frustration and lean back against the couch. The filmmaker frowned and resumed messing with the black metal attachment to his hand.
It had been a year since Roger's young, smack-addicted, fun-loving girlfriend Mimi died, following Angel and Collins to the Pearly Gates. The pain of losing Mimi had been rawer than losing Roger's first girlfriend in Alphabet City, April. Mimi had been full of bubbly life, while April had been full of death. Then again, with losing April, Roger also lost his sense of immortality brought to him by his bout of glory. He had AIDS. He would die. He would leave Mark alone with his camera and his memories. Roger didn't want to think about what would happen to the blonde boy when he was alone. Something gave him the feeling that Mark wouldn't do well when left to think too long.
After heaving a dramatic sigh, Roger gazed across the room at Mark. Mark's eyes were downcast, the soft moonlight making his features even more striking than usual. His cheeks were hollowed out, the blue eyes shining, and he was far too thin for anyone his age.
It was then that Roger stopped thinking about anything else but Mark; nothing mattered to the songwriter other than Mark's presence. Perhaps nothing else ever had. Mark had always been there for Roger. Through the glory, through April, through withdrawal, through learning to live, through Mimi, there was constantly the scrawny blonde Jewish kid helping him survive.
Through
the darkness
I can see your light
And you will always shine
And I can feel your heart in mine
Your face I've memorized
I
idolize just you
Roger always wondered how the hell Mark managed to keep him sane, healthy, and maybe even loved through all the shit that went on in their Bohemian lives. Mark loved Roger even when the musician was drunk, violent, insane, or bitter. Ever since the day they met, there had been a connection. Roger had just never really acknowledged it before. But there it was, plain and simple. Mark kept him from ending up like April, dead in a pool of his own blood on the bathroom floor.
How could someone ever stay so strong? Mark just put aside all of his feelings and needs and dreams to see some hopeless ex-junkie rocker through deep shit. He was like some sort of miracle worker, yet he never expected or asked for help or comfort. Or love. Roger couldn't help but wish that he'd been more loving towards Mark, who deserved all the love in the world but never seemed to get any.
But wait. Did Roger love Mark? In a way that was more than platonic or brotherly? Staring at the man who looked so much like a lovable small child, Roger really had to think. Did he? Well, from the day their eyes first locked, there had been a bond that grew and held fast. And Roger certainly felt differently for Mark than he did for Collins, or Benny (before he was an asshole), or any of his band-mates.
Maybe
it was just affection and overprotection; for all his strength, Mark
could still seem like a lost puppy at times. Maybe it was just
admiration and awe, because Mark could live and watch while the world
tumbled and fell around him. He could stay unchanging and constant
and steadfast as his friends needed him to be. Maybe it was just a
small attraction, after all he was very cute, it was impossible to
deny. But Roger decided that it was probably love. It had to be
love. I look up to
Everything you are
In my eyes
you do no wrong
I've loved you for so long
And after all is
said and done
You're still you
After all
You're still you
Mark looked up from the camera and down at the old watch on his skinny wrist. He slipped off the chair he'd been sitting in and yawned, looking so adorable it was almost unbelievable that he would be turning twenty-four in a month's time. His blue eyes, wide behind the glasses, turned to Roger's black-lined green ones.
"Take your AZT."
Roger nodded blankly, causing Mark to give him a worried look. He stood up, leaving Roger staring as Mark meandered towards the smaller boy's bedroom. The filmmaker paused in his metal doorway and looked back at Roger in slight concern.
"G'night, Rog." It came out as more of a question than a statement.
Mark winced slightly when Roger didn't reply, but he slowly retreated into his bedroom, shutting the door gently behind him.
Roger was still in a state of shock, trying to process the emotions he just felt. It was as though he didn't know himself anymore. He'd always been able to tell what he was feeling, but now he wanted make sure that he had his senses in line before doing anything.
The rocker had always been impulsive in love. All throughout high school he would randomly date whatever girl he could get, and randomly sleep with whatever girl asked him. And he'd felt nothing but rash desire. With Mimi it had been very different, there had been love, but it was also mostly burning passion and longing and need to live again. They both got their lives back in order, with Roger coming back to life and Mimi getting off smack. But it was fleeting. And now, Roger had to analyze what kind of love was happening with his roommate.
You
walk past me
I can feel your pain
Time changes everything
One truth always stays the same
You're still you
After
all
You're still you
To decide if he was in love, Roger would always ask himself, 'Now. Do I want to get into bed?' But this was completely unlike anything he'd ever felt. Roger tried to find a question that would make him surer of his feelings. Obviously, 'Am I in love with Mark?' wasn't going to work. He though back to how he felt when Mark and Maureen were together. Throughout the entire thing, he couldn't help but think that Mark deserved so much better. Someone more special, someone closer, someone like…
Someone like Roger?
Roger jerked up on the couch, staring at the doorway through which Mark had passed about fifteen minutes ago. It was so clear to him now that he couldn't believe he'd never seen it before. He wanted Mark to be happy for once, to laugh and smile and live because of Roger. He wanted to hold Mark and stroke his hair and help him through his pain like he'd once helped Roger. He wanted to kiss him and never stop. He wanted Mark to finally feel love with someone who loved him, too. Roger wanted Mark to love him.
Coming to a conclusion, Roger stood up quickly and dashed to the door of Mark's bedroom. Roger realized that he'd almost never been into Mark's room before. He also wondered if he was being hasty and rushed again. But Roger knew from experience that hiding emotion until the last possible moment never ended well.
And
with that, he knocked softly on the door. I look up to
Everything you are
In my eyes you do no wrong
And I
believe in you
Although you never asked me to
I will remember
you
And what life put you through
"Mark? You still up?"
Mark lifted his head from his rumpled pillow and locked eyes with Roger, who was still silhouetted in the doorway. Mark was in his pajamas, glasses on the bedside table, his hair slightly tousled and his expression perplexed.
"Mmhm. What's up? You okay?" Mark asked concernedly, his eyes gleaming in apprehension. He reached to the bedside table and slid his glasses onto his nose.
"Yeah, Mark. Never better." Roger made his way carefully towards Mark's bed and sat down, gently pushing Mark to make room for a second body in the smallish bed. "Listen, I got something I gotta tell you."
Mark sat up straighter and gazed at Roger in anxiety, his blue eyes round and attentive. Roger shifted so that he was turned toward Mark. He affectionately took Mark's left hand in both of his own and began to play with the long, emaciated fingers. He tore his gaze from Mark's fingers to his face and found that the blonde was holding his breathe. Roger sighed softly.
"Mark. I've been thinking… and I think that I may be – I mean – I am…" Roger pushed his hair out of his face and looked Mark square in the face.
"I'm in love with you, Mark."
Roger held his breath and tried to interpret Mark's expression. His crystal eyes were filling with unshed tears, his breathing became shallow and quick. For the some of the most frightening twenty seconds of Roger's life, he thought that Mark would reject him or worse, cry. Roger had never seen Mark cry, and really didn't want to be the one to make him shed tears.
Mark drew in a ragged breath, still staring into Roger's green orbs. He whispered, "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear you say that…to me."
Mark put his right hand behind Roger's neck and pulled his mouth to Roger's ear and whimpered, "I love you. I've always loved you, Rog."
Roger took one of his hands from Mark's and ran it down his back. Roger leaned forward and tenderly placed his forehead against the filmmaker's.
"And I've never been happier, Marky. Never."
And Mark blushed and smiled shyly. It was what Roger had wanted all along, the only thing that would complete him. Roger brought the hand holding Mark's up behind the boy's neck and tilted it upwards. In the happiest moment of either man's life, Roger brought their lips together and kissed the soft smile.
And
in this cruel and lonely world
I found one love
You're still
you
After all
You're still you
