Again wiht the explanation.....I don't wanna...

Beta=KT
I don't own...
Rest of the RENT fics up soon.

--Mark

"Yeah. Shit." I ran my fingers through my hair.

"No fucking kidding." Roger breathed and stood up. He started pacing.

"Roger." I almost got his attention.

"Roger! Calm down. Stop pacing." I caught it this time and he turned to me, awaiting a reply.

"What does this mean?" Roger looked at me.

Blue to Green.

Then there was the spark.

--Roger

He felt it too. Shit...The stupid spark. Then too.
I thought as I stared into Mark's eyes for moments too long to count.
Okay, I have to admit it, to at least myself. I like Mark. I really do. He's been there for me when nobody else bothered.

Especially during withdrawal. When he's there it's not as bad. Me being held in his arms while he strokes my hair, it helps a lot more than anyone could attempt to imagine. He's helped me through the nights when I can't take it anymore. The nights when I want to go just get a hit. One hit, just to stop the pain wracking my body every day.

He's the only one that helped. April is long since gone and dead. She killed herself in our bathroom. Our bathroom, Mark and mine. I won't even go in there anymore. Not until I get the look of her face and the note on the mirror out of my head. Until then, I will never go in there. See, people thought April and I were always together. Hip-to-hip. Actually, in the nights after one of my shows, I would seek out the blond filmmaker first. Then, if April just happen to find me before I left, we would talk. It's not like I left Mark. I got high with the redhead before the show and ended the night with my best-friend as the high of the gig still flowed through me.

The gist of it is: Mark is there. He's the only one of us that can stand on two feet and not fuck up. But now I don't know.

We fucked, so I'm fucked.

Technically, he's fucked too.

"So..." I tried to break the silence.

"Yeah..."

"You need to get tested, Mark." God. I'm. An. Idiot. Officially.

"Yes I do, but when? The clinic isn't even open on Christmas. I don't think it opens back up 'till the New Year." He said.

"You're right." I told him,"It's not open."

"But as soon as I can, Roger." He promised. Silence...

I don't wanna talk about what happened. Okay. Yes I do. I just don't know how to start one of those conver-

"So? We gonna talk about it?" He shook me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah, we should, but Mark? How do we do this?" He looked at me and motioned for me to sit. I did so.

"I don't know what happened last night and I don't know why, but we need to figure it out."

"Figure what out? Mark?" I'm confused.

"This out, Rog. Look. Are you attracted to me?"

Hell yeah! The voice in my head told me.

What came out of my mouth was something like, "I don't know."

Oh, so you can't even tell him the truth now? You know lying to your best friend isn't good, especially now. Stupid voice.

"Yes or No, Roger." His voice kind of shook a little. You know, faltered.

"Yes. OK, Mark, yes. Hell yes!" I breathed that all out, and looked down.

"Well. That's saying something. Roger?" I looked up at my prompting.

"What?"

"I think I like you too." He blushed. He's cute when he blushes. I was ready to shoot the little voice and realized that was my own head talking. Funny.

"And if last night was any indication... then..." He trailed off muttering something to himself.

So we got it out in the open. Now what? Do I kiss him? Relationships aren't what I do. I'm Roger Davis for Pete's sake. The rock-and-roll-god, Okay, former rock-and-roll-god. I still get the groupies. Sometimes. After April there hasn't been any. I've never been in a serious relationship. April was... a... bad thing. A momentary lapse in judgment.
But Mark, my best friend. Now he can't be a lapse in judgment. It's all-in with him.

So...what do I do now?