Roger

I stood, still as a statue, with my arms around Mark. The stares of the crowd were lessening, as was Mark's death grip around my waist. I kissed the top of his head again and released myself from his grasp.

"Flight thirty-seven A, please prepare for boarding. Your plane will be leaving in exactly thirty-two minutes," the loud, harsh voice blared over the intercom system.

"Thirty-seven A, that's our flight Marky."

He lifted his head, looked at me through glistening, tearful eyes, and nodded. "Okay."

We stood in the boarding line forever, given the fact that there were five gazillion people in the line. When we finally did get on the plane, Mark started bouncing up and down in his seat.

"Uh…Mark? You shoulda gone pee in the airport."

"I don't have to pee, stupid. I'm excited! I haven't been on an airplane in such a long time…"

I opened my mouth to speak, and then changed my mind. What I was going to say was much too embarrassing.

"What was that, Rog?"

"I didn't say anything…"

"No, but you were going to…what was it?"

"I…I was just going to say that I had never been on an airplane before…"

He looked at me in total shock. "You're kidding…"

"No…you know, broken, scattered childhood, didn't get out much…"

"Then I'm going to have to take you on another airplane trip…until you lose count of how many you've taken."

--

When we landed after a miserable ten hours on the plane, I slipped my hand into Mark's and laced our fingers together. We went through the procedures of getting off the airplane, getting our baggage, and getting out of the airport with the greatest of ease.

Once outside, we stood on the curb and hailed a taxi, remembering Mark's taxicab hailing inabilities.

The ride to the hotel was comfortable; the driver was a sweet older man who was very talkative. Eventually, we got to the hotel, checked in, and went to the elevator, heading for our room.

Mark

I hate elevators. I always have. But somehow, having Roger with me in there…alone…was somewhat comforting.

I was leaning against the mirrored wall of the little room and Roger was standing awkwardly in the middle. Gradually, he turned and leaned in towards me, put his hands on either side of my body, and bent down to kiss me.

The soft, gentle kiss turned passionate very quickly. Magically, the elevator never stopped moving until we reached our floor.

DING!

The mirrored doors opened; I broke the kiss. I felt kind of guilty for doing it when I saw the look on Roger's face, but someone had to do it…and I knew Roger wouldn't.

I smiled up at him and whispered, "I love you, Roger."

"I love you too, Marky."

--

Another filler…. I feel so bad!!! But don't you worry, it's getting better by the moment.