The next morning was chaos, and Roger and Mark didn't get a chance to really talk until they were headed off to school. They rode their bikes slowly, lazily, as if they wanted to hold on to their time together before they arrived at school. Mark broached the silence first.

"So, are we… are we a thing now?" His voice was uncertain and he looked at Roger questioningly.

Roger looked at him and stated, "If you still want to be."

Mark nodded slowly, and then focused on riding his bike. This was easily the strangest morning of his life. If had begun just like every other morning this year, but this time he woke up and got ready for school with Roger, and that made it all the more interesting.

"And you're okay with me not having any," he swallowed and searched for the word, "experience? With guys, I mean."

"Mark, I'm not exactly Mr. Queer myself. I've never actually had a relationship with a guy before either. I've hardly had a relationship with a girl, anyway."

"What do you mean?" Mark looked puzzled. He assumed that Roger had… well, no one looked and acted like Roger without attracting some attention.

"I've had flings before. Groupies. It's a real ego booster when you see someone looking up at you with such admiration and desire. It's hard to resist."

"But, just girls, right? Have you ever been with a guy?"

"Mark, please just accept that I am as new at this as you are. We can learn together, okay?"

Mark looked at him, his eyes twinkling. "Okay. Let's do that."

They were getting closer to school now, their time alone drawing to a close.

Before they reached eyesight of the school, Roger paused, his bike slowing to a stop. Mark did the same.

They both sat/stood there, looking around, at each other, at the trees, at the cars passing, at anything, at nothing.

"This is awkward," Mark commented.

"Obviously," Roger replied, smiling and breaking the tension.

"Should we—are we supposed to, you know… I don't know... whatever, now?" Mark fumbled, flustered.

"We're not supposed to do anything. What do you want to do? We could do nothing, and just park our bikes and walk in to school as friends, nothing more. Or," he continued, "I could kiss you now. Or hug you… whatever you're comfortable with. And we could park our bikes and walk in to school as a couple."

Mark was silent. He knew that this was important. This was the difference between acting on their decision to be in a relationship and ignoring it because it was uncomfortable.

"How about a hug," Mark offered, not sure that he was ready to be kissing Roger, much as he wanted to, let alone in public. No, he wanted their first kiss to be just them.

Roger nodded his assent. He took the initiative and put up the kickstand on his bike and stepped over to Mark, who looked tense.

When Roger put his arms around Mark, the boy let go. All the stress left him and he hugged back with all his might.

Mark though that Roger didn't know what it meant for him to have someone.

But Roger did know. Roger knew because he saw how Mark hid in his work. How lonely Mark was. He saw it all, and it hurt him. But, it made Roger happy that he could be the one person to change all that for Mark.

So, when Mark's grip loosened, Roger pulled away slowly and smiled.

Mark smiled back.

They both wanted so much more, but for now they had exactly what they needed.

When they arrived at school, content, they dismounted their bikes and walked inside together, not holding hands, just barely touching. To the casual observer, it was obvious that these two were not merely friends.

And to several people that day who were particularly observant, Mark and Roger were the perfect subjects for taunting and teasing and insulting. Some girls giggled when they saw how they leaned in close to talk to one another, how the look in their eyes as they looked at each other spoke volumes, and how they lingered near each other, for no obvious reason, just to be close.

Boys were less forgiving. In gym, Roger was ignored. Whereas the day before he had gotten slaps and grins and interested chatter, today he received cold looks and colder shoulders. They acted like he simply wasn't there.

For Mark, who was always teased about his pallor and his glasses and how his camera went with him almost everywhere and his quiet, shy persona, the treatment wasn't much different than how he normally went about his day. What he did notice was that an occasional glance would be directed his way, and it would linger as if making a judgment or determination about him, rather than just drifting over him and passing him by to look at something else.

It made them both seriously consider what they were doing. The sad truth was, this was effectively social suicide. There were no other "out" students at the school, which planted all the focus on them.

They could only hope that the treatment wouldn't worsen.

Whatever happened at school that day was made up for by the event of their after school adventure to Roger's house.

Roger was an only child and neither of his parents were home, so that was the optimal place for Mark and Roger to spend some time together.

When they entered, Roger went into the kitchen and got himself a can of Coke, offering one to Mark as well. He accepted it, but only to give him something to distract him, to have something to do with his hands… and his mouth.

Roger cleared his throat.

"Will this ever get any less awkward," Mark asked, sighing.

"I hope so," Roger responded.

They approached the living room couch, overanalyzing where they should sit relative to one another. Eventually they both seemingly decided that it was best to be comfortable, but not too intimate, so there was about a foot and a half between them on the couch, but they were turned slightly towards each other.

Mark and Roger both opened up their cans with a pop and a whizzz and then awkwardly both sipped at their drinks.

After a second, Mark stopped drinking and set down his can. "Did you notice at school—"

"Yeah, I noticed," Roger replied quickly.

Noting Roger's apparent anxiety, he suggested, "If it really bothers you that much, we don't have to do this. Nothing's really happened yet, anyway. We could just end this here, right now, and you could go back to being the popular musician guy at school."

Roger looked at Mark sharply. "That doesn't matter," he said. "It sucks, I guess, but I can deal with it. You're worth it."

Mark blushed and looked down.

"Well then," Roger continued, "about the other thing you said, about nothing happening yet—I think that it's about time we changed that."

Mark looked up, still blushing, and tilted his head to look at Roger quizzically.

Roger then scooted over, until their knees were against each other, and took Mark's neck in his hand, pulling him gently over.

Mark leaned in, and slowly, ever so slowly, their mouths touched.

Mark's hand drifted to play with Roger's hair. Roger's fingers gently massaged Mark's neck. Their eyes opened, and they pulled back just enough to look at each other.

"So, we're doing this?" Roger asked, hoping he knew the answer.

Mark smiled, and responded "yes" before pulling Roger towards him a bit more forcefully and meeting their lips once more. They kissed softly, both getting used to the experience of kissing another male. It was new and different and they both thoroughly enjoyed each other.

They had leaned back slightly onto the back of the couch as they kissed, still vertical but more relaxed.

After a few more seconds, they heard a cough, and pulled away immediately. There stood Roger's mother, or at least Mark assumed, who had entered quiet as a mouse and was now staring at them with the strangest look on her face.

"What exactly is going on here?" she demanded.