MUAHAHAHA! So... I'm a little late in getting this out. My deepest apologies. But, you must understand, I'm home for the summer, at least until I leave to counsel at a camp in a month or so, and, well, I don't have my own computer. Meaning I have to juggle when I can use it with three other siblings and my parents. Meaning it's reeeeaaaaallllllyyyy difficult to write man on man smut when your little sister is like, "C'MON, I wanna play Neopets, dammit!" and your mom is looking over your shoulder, and says, "Quivering thigh? What the hell are you writing!" So yeah. I had to be a ninja writer. My stealth points went into double digits.

Anyway, I think I more than made up for the slight delay with the fact that this is the longest chapter EVAH... like seriously, it's a double chapter with the smut included. Without the smut it's still longer than any of the other chapters. So yeah. Enjoy.

If you want to read the smut, I'll leave the link in the story where I make the cut and then again in my profile. Hoorah.

One month later:

Roger let out a string of expletives when his lighter refused to work. In his opinion, there was almost nothing worse than the shink, shink sound, sparks flying but not catching. It was like nails on a chalkboard. He shook the lighter against his ear, hearing the swishing of liquid. Dammit, what the hell was wrong with the thing?

"Need a light, sweetie?" an amused voice asked from behind him. He jumped at the abruptness of it, and Chris let out a chuckle. "So jumpy, Roger," he said, offering his own lit lighter.

"Well, Jesus, don't sneak up on me like that," Roger grumbled, lighting his cigarette and taking a drag. He let out a sigh of relief. Thank God for nicotine.

"Hmm, you're just too preoccupied," Chris replied, lighting his own cigarette. "What's got you standing out here looking like you're waiting to be led to the gallows anyways?"

They both slumped companionably against the brick wall, nearly shoulder to shoulder. Roger had showed up about twenty minutes ago to pick Mark up after work. Of course, after greeting Roger at the door, he'd rushed back in with a plea of, "There's just this one thing I have to get done really quickly." Knowing Mark, he wouldn't be back out for at least another ten minutes. Hence the cigarette break.

"I didn't know you smoked," Roger observed. Chris exhaled and laughed.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Roger," he said. "One of them is that I'm not easily distracted. You didn't answer my question."

"Ah," Roger stated succinctly.

"Fine, you don't want to talk about it, I get it," Chris pouted. "Just keep the man who probably saved your ass in the dark." Roger grinned.

Ever since he'd knocked some sense into Roger a month or so ago, things had been a little uneasy between Chris and him. Admittedly, most of it was coming from Chris' side, but Roger figured he needed some time to get over Mark and forgive Roger for what he'd done. Chris had started warming up to him again recently, though.

"Good job, by the way. I mean, doing what I said and all," Chris complimented, almost as if reading his mind. He took another drag off his cigarette. "And shit, since he obviously forgives you, I guess I can too. But I might still hold on to a grudge for a little while yet, after how you fucked up, not gonna lie. I'm just not that nice of a person."

"Um… thanks?" Roger let out. If there was a master of the double sided compliment/insult, it was Chris. Chris just smiled.

"He's been happy, though," he said softly. "A lot happier than I've ever seen him, even before your whole screw up. So yeah, since you're mostly the cause of that happiness," that was grumbled with a little bitterness in it, "I suppose… thanks or…whatever." He immediately took another drag off his cigarette, almost like he was trying to soften the blow to his ego for admitting Roger had done something right.

Roger grinned. Chris was really terrible at giving a compliment, wasn't he?

"Well… glad to know you approve on some level," Roger chuckled.

"If you keep up what you've been doing. Screw up again, and all bets are off," Chris muttered. But there was warmth in his tone this time, and a slight smirk on his face.

"Don't worry, I won't," Roger assured him, even if what Chris had said was partly a joke.

"Good. Now, since I've done the whole pep-talk and given you reason to believe I won't bite your head off at the slightest provocation, mind telling me the answer to what I asked in the first place?"

Roger winced. Chris really did have a one-track mind.

"You're impossible," he muttered with a smirk of his own.

"I know, and you're diverting again."

"Okay, okay," Roger sighed. He guessed it wouldn't hurt to tell Chris. The guy was Mark's best friend after all. "Well, we've been together about a month now… and it's been just a little over a year since Mark left New York…"

"No shit. That's the whole reason everyone's getting together tonight, dumbass," Chris rolled his eyes.

"Shut up and let me finish," Roger said, pleased when Chris actually listened to him for once. "Well, I thought I'd… Shit, maybe I should just show you."

Then he pulled something out of his pocket he'd been carrying around for a couple days now. Chris' face lit up in a huge grin, even though his eyes still seemed a little dark.

"Awww… that's real sweet, Rog," he cooed.

"Well, yeah… I guess. Just… a little nervous here, you know?"

"Don't be," Chris looked up at him. "He'll love it." Chris sighed, pushed off the wall and stamped out his almost-finished cigarette. "On that note, I think I'll go see what's keeping him. Probably got so caught up he started a whole new project or something. Blake and Jeff meeting us at the restaurant?"

"Yeah. Mark said Beth was gonna show too, right? And that Daniel kid?" Chris' grin was positively evil.

"Uh-huh. Danny-boy has been loosening up lately. Think I might try to seduce him just for kicks."

Chris laughed. Roger's eyes widened. Funny, he never knew Chris could cackle, too.

"Mark is going to kill you," he said with a smile.

"I know, I know. That's half the fun. Toodles!" Then Chris was practically skipping into the building, still chuckling under his breath, and Roger was left alone in the failing light.

He realized that he was still smiling, staring off at nothing. It was weird, but he'd smiled more these past few weeks than he could ever remember smiling since… well, since forever, really. He'd never even been this ecstatic when he'd been with Mimi. There'd always been too much to argue over, in between all the calm moments, and then she'd been dying… and he hadn't had much to smile about anymore.

Not that Mark and him hadn't had their share of kinks to work out. The first week had been the hardest. Mark had been terrified that Roger would turn and run at the drop of a hat, and could barely bring himself to even trust Roger with simple things, like showing up when he said he was going to, or staying when he said he would. It was understandable, but it had been hard, and they'd fought a couple times.

But he'd surprised Mark, and even after they'd gotten into a shouting match on the fifth day, Roger hadn't stormed out, but had left Mark in the living room and sat in the bedroom with the door closed for a few minutes, until they'd both calmed down. That fight had probably been what had caused Mark to start opening up a little more, because if Roger had wanted to leave, he'd have done it then. And all of Roger's anger had flowed right out of him when Mark had so tentatively poked his head into the room and asked if they could try again.

Roger sighed. He'd known Mark had a huge hold on him when they'd started this, but now Mark had him, for all intents and purposes, wrapped around his little finger. He didn't think he'd ever be able to deny the filmmaker anything again. He could only hope that Mark wasn't completely aware of that. Not that he would ever abuse the privilege if he was. Mark just wasn't that type of person.

There was that Goddamn smile again. He was so completely in love that sometimes it almost hurt. And after the first couple of bumpy weeks, they hadn't really fought that much except for the odd unimportant argument here and there. He felt that he'd earned a lot of the filmmaker's trust back, even though he still had a little ways to go.

A big part of what had helped in earning Mark back was that he hadn't pushed anything. Or at least, he'd really tried not to. Roger was very possessive by nature, but he'd attempted to step back and let Mark be with him on his own terms. Roger hadn't been all that surprised to find that since Mark had trouble trusting him, he hadn't been quite ready to commit yet. So Roger had given him space, but let him know that Roger would be there if he ever needed help working through something. And Mark had actually called him to talk problems over more often than not.

Communication is what had been most lacking in all of Roger's past relationships, and he wasn't about to make the same stupid mistakes again. This time it was too important to risk messing up. So if that meant Roger letting Mark know he loved him on a regular basis, that was fine with Roger. It wasn't half as hard as he'd thought it would be to talk about his feelings… because it was Mark. He could talk to Mark about anything.

The last thing that was very unique about his relationship with Mark was the amount of time they spent together just… spending time together. It wasn't like there was any lack of affection; there were plenty of kisses in between sentences, and he'd found that one of his favorite pastimes was just holding the filmmaker in his arms while they talked or watched a movie. In his past relationships, Mimi excluded, he'd spent half the time with the other person just making out and having sex. And while he definitely wanted to do those things with Mark, they weren't what defined their being together.

It still blew Roger's mind sometimes that he'd been with Mark for a month and they still hadn't had sex again yet. Even though at least two nights out of the week he'd spend in Mark's bed or Mark would spend in his, just holding onto each other. But whenever things got hotter between them, make-out sessions leaning towards more and more groping and looser articles of clothing, Roger had pulled away. It had been torture, and he could see the frustration in Mark's eyes too, but they just hadn't been ready for it. And he wanted to prove to Mark that that wasn't why he wanted him; that it wasn't about sex. He wanted Mark to trust him completely before they took that final step.

And part of the reason Roger was so nervous and excited was that tonight, he was pretty sure they were ready. Because a few days ago…

His thoughts were cut off as Chris and Mark came outside, Chris in full rant mode.

"…and I shouldn't HAVE to drag your ass away from work that Beth has told you didn't need to be done until the end of the month!" Chris was exclaiming. "Besides, it makes me look bad!" Mark laughed.

"Well, maybe you should stop taking such long lunch breaks and leaving early to… what was it you were doing again?"

"Information gathering, Marky," Chris said with a straight face. "Someone has to dig up new stories."

"Right," Mark said in an unconvinced tone. "And just because you seem to think all those stories are found in bars along with young, hot, gay men doesn't mean you're doing anything but working." Chris grinned.

"Exactly. That's why I get to write off all the mai tais on my taxes." They both chuckled this time.

"Hey," Mark said when they got to him, an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry I took so long." Roger just smiled and pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around the filmmaker's slim waist.

"It's cool. I needed a cigarette break anyway." Mark's nose wrinkled.

"I could tell." Roger's grin just got wider.

"You know you think it's sexy," he whispered, pulling Mark into a brief kiss. When he pulled back, Mark's eyes were hooded.

"You're not supposed to notice shit like that," he admitted with a sigh. Roger was about to go back for another kiss when they heard a loud groan.

"Please, children. Keep it in your pants for a few more minutes," Chris whined. "At least until we get to the restaurant and I'll have someone else to talk to." Mark laughed and pulled away, but kept his hand entwined in Roger's.

"Okay, okay," he said. "You're so impatient."

"No, I just hate being ignored. And around you two… it's like you don't even notice me half the time," Chris griped. All he needed was the swoon with his hand against his forehead, and he'd be perfect for one of Maureen's plays.

"I'd thought you'd be used to it by now," Mark said with a soft glance in Roger's direction. Chris scoffed.

"You've both been turned into complete sops. Simply reminds me again why I never wanted to fall in love. Makes you a complete mindless twit," he complained, without any real malice in his voice and a smile that gave him away.

He walked over to them and slung an arm over each of their shoulders, propelling them in the direction of the subway. Mark still kept his hand in Roger's and Chris was forced to walk slightly behind them. He didn't seem to notice, and was about to start rambling again, when Mark sniffed and raised his eyebrows.

"How do you get away with not smelling like smoke?" he asked. "You said you had one with Roger." Chris smiled.

"Sorry, I must keep some of my secrets," he said ominously. "Wouldn't want me to lose that appealing air of mystery that surrounds me, now would we?"

Roger and Mark both busted out laughing, completely ignoring Chris' indignant, "Hey!"

3 days earlier:

Mark flopped down on the couch next to Roger, offering the popcorn he'd just gotten from the kitchen. Roger grabbed the rim of the bowl and used it to pull Mark closer to him until the filmmaker was all but forced to climb into Roger's lap. After a little deliberation, he swung a leg over one of Roger's so they were tangled together and snuggled against his side. Roger put an arm over his shoulder and they shifted a little until they were both comfortable.

"What's this movie called again?" Roger asked, pressing play on the remote and shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

"Rocky Horror Picture Show," Mark answered. "Chris was horrified that I'd never seen it, and when I told him you hadn't either, he nearly burst into tears. Or popped a blood vessel. One of the two." Roger laughed around his popcorn, then swallowed.

"Yeah? Who knew Chris could get so worked up over a movie?"

"He gets worked up over the weirdest things," Mark admitted, a furrow in his brow. "He did say that watching it here wouldn't be half as good as seeing it in a theatre. Something about audience participation."

"Weird. Actually, I think I heard Collins talking about it once." Mark's eyes widened a little.

"Oh, yeah! That Halloween a couple years before we met Angel. He got all dressed up for it, remember?" Roger snorted.

"As dressed up as you can be in nothing but a pair of skin-tight golden shorts and tennis shoes." They both laughed.

After that, they settled down to watch the movie. He felt warm and safe, snuggled under Roger's strong arm, the guitarist's calloused thumb circling slightly now and again, catching on his shirt. It still surprised him how… natural it felt, being with Roger. Sure, they had their fights, all couples did, but they were always resolved with little fuss. And Mark had truly come to believe that Roger was here to stay.

That had been the main thing causing the fights in the first place. He hadn't trusted Roger, still had a few small issues with it if he was honest. But Roger had been nothing but patient, at least as patient as Roger could be, showing him time and time again that he wasn't going to leave, that he meant it this time. And Mark had slowly started trusting him again.

It had been achingly hard at first, to force himself to open up again when he still felt so raw in so many ways. But Roger had shown him he didn't need to force anything, that Roger was willing to let Mark work through it in his own way, in his own time. Mark could never really tell him how much that space had been appreciated, especially with the support that came with it. So Mark had taken the offer, and most of the time, if he just couldn't handle something or needed to talk, he'd call Roger and the guitarist would come rushing over as soon as he could.

That had been the most surprising. That Roger could be so supportive, so committed. He made it a point to let Mark know at least once a day that he loved him. Mark had never seen him this way except for that short time he and Mimi had been married. Just knowing that Roger was that emotionally involved here was… almost frightening. But nothing frightening had ever left such a warm feeling in the pit of Mark's stomach.

It had been kind of weird at points, too. That first time Roger had introduced him as his boyfriend, just trying to wrap his mind around the idea that Roger and him were dating. He'd brought it up with Roger once, and he'd said how he felt the same way sometimes, then gone on to explain how it seemed stupid to call Mark his boyfriend, because that seemed so shallow. To him, Mark was more than that, something you couldn't put such a generalized label on.

That had left Mark with a sweet ache in his chest, because he felt exactly the same way.

The only frustrating thing had been that whenever they started going farther, whenever Mark had a hand up Roger's shirt or Roger had Mark pinned to the couch, the guitarist would pull back. There was always that grimace on his face, almost as if he were in pain, holding himself back like he was. Mark knew he had to have a similar look on his face, but Roger would always say they weren't ready. That Mark didn't trust him all the way yet. It had been the single most infuriating thing Mark had ever come across, more so because he could understand what Roger was trying to do. He knew deep down that Roger was right, anyway.

And even though it pissed him off sometimes, even that was comforting to an extent. To know that Roger wasn't in this just for sex. That had been Mark's greatest fear before, that Roger had just used him as a way to get off. Knowing that that was the farthest thing from the truth was a heady feeling.

Mark wasn't sure just what it was Roger wanted, what sign he was looking for to tell them they were ready. So he'd been trying to get over his fears, and really start to trust and open up again. He felt he'd been making a lot of progress. He could honestly say he trusted Roger now. And if he was ever feeling afraid or paranoid, all it took was one phone call to the guitarist's cell to get him back on track.

"How the fuck does he even walk in those heels?" Roger muttered, reaching for the popcorn. Mark's attention snapped back to the movie, only to realize that Tim Curry was dancing around in high-heels and fishnets.

"Didn't you ask Angel that, once?" he asked.

"Yeah," Roger looked very confused. "She never really told me though. All she said was something like, 'Honey, I just walk'. Fat lot of good that did in answering my question." Mark laughed.

"Maybe you should buy a pair and try it yourself." Roger snorted.

"And I'd break my Goddamn ankle. I'd never live it down."

"I'm sure Blake would never let you forget it. Actually, I don't think I would, either."

"Bastards. I'd like to see you try it."

"Who says I haven't?" Mark asked, actually managing to keep a straight face. Roger looked horrified for a second, then started cracking up.

"Oh my God!" he managed in between laughs. "I just… had the funniest fucking image in my head… like…" he burst into another fit of laughter, "like…I could just see Maureen trying to force you to wear those knee-high leather boots of hers… and then… trying to wrestle you into that fucking cat-suit…" He became completely incoherent then, laughing so hard that he had to wipe tears away from his eyes. Mark smiled.

"Come on, there's no way I'd let her do that!" he exclaimed.

"I dunno, Mark," Roger said with a grin after he'd calmed down. "You let her get away with a lot. There was that time you fixed her sound equipment right after she'd left you for Joanne..."

The joke fell a little flat, and Mark just looked mildly offended.

"Awww, c'mon!" Roger said when Mark glanced away. Roger pulled him up so that he was straddling Roger's lap and kissed him. "I was only kidding. I'm sorry, baby."

Mark made a gulping noise in the back of his throat and his eyes widened behind his glasses.

"Did… you just… call me… baby?" he managed to choke out after a second. Roger looked at him, concerned.

"Uh… yeah?"

Mark collapsed onto him, hugging him around the shoulders for support, his body shaking so hard with laughter that he could barely keep it together. Roger saw that where he'd had to wipe tears away from his eyes, Mark had them rolling freely down his cheeks. Every time it seemed like Mark was about to calm down, he'd take a breath and start laughing again.

"Hey!" Roger said after a minute. "What's wrong with calling you baby?"

Mark looked up into Roger's pouting face, and another wave of laughter hit him. When he'd calmed down enough, he gasped out,

"Nothing… nothing...You can if you want to, I guess," he smiled at Roger and kissed him on the cheek. "It's just… I never associated the word 'adorable' with Roger Davis before…"

"I am not adorable!" Roger grouched, pouting even more.

"See, you keep pouting like that," Mark said, kissing his other cheek. "That's adorable. Calling me baby is adorable. You're adorable."

"Stop saying that!"

"Can't help it," Mark grinned. "'Cuz you are."

Roger just grumbled. Mark let out another short laugh.

"God, I love you," he said, without even thinking about it, placing another kiss on Roger's lips.

He pulled back when he realized that Roger had completely frozen underneath him. Quick upon the heels of that realization was the realization that that had been the first time he'd told Roger he loved him. Roger was looking at him with such an intent stare, his face a mixture of joy and disbelief.

"Shit. That took me a while, didn't it?" Mark whispered, dropping another kiss on Roger's lips. And hell, since he'd already told him that much… "Well, you probably already knew, but I do love you, Rog. You're everything to me." The kiss Roger pulled him into then was nothing short of desperate.

He'd been completely blind and stupid again, hadn't he? So caught up in his own trust-issues that he had failed to notice that Roger had been afraid himself, doubting whether or not Mark really loved him. And it was one thing to know that someone loved you, but another thing entirely to hear them say it. Mark vowed he'd say it just as often as Roger said it to him from now on. At least once a day.

The kiss deepened, Roger's tongue pushing into his mouth, and hello, what a great fucking position to be in, straddling Roger like this, pressing them together as close as he could get, and why hadn't they done it this way before? He wrapped his arms as tightly as he could around his guitarist (and he never knew he'd ever want to be that possessive of someone as to refer to them as his in his mind), burying his fingers in long hair. He moaned when Roger's hands grabbed his ass, kneading it and then pulling him down sharply.

Roger broke the kiss, and Mark nearly whimpered at the loss of that hot tongue against his, until Roger's mouth was on his neck, wet on the sensitive skin, the occasional nip bolting through him like lightning. He started moving his hips against Roger's, and Jesus, they were both already hard, Roger's moan vibrating through his neck and he was sure Roger was leaving a deep bruise on his pale skin that would last for a week, but he didn't care, all he wanted was for it to keep going, to never stop, please never stop…

With a slight gasp and a groan of regret, Roger stilled Mark's hips and pulled slightly away. Beyond the heaving breaths they were both taking in, and the searing, almost angry question of why? Why did you stop, Mark tried to assess what had happened. He took in Roger's state, dilated pupils, flushed skin, and face filled with uncertainty.

Mark knew that all he had to do was to push a little more, and Roger would probably give in and pick up where they left off. But he could see that the uncertainty in Roger's eyes was different than it had been the times before. He knew Mark wanted this. But Roger wasn't sure if he was quite ready for it. Mark didn't want to push Roger into anything when Roger had been so patient with him.

With a sigh that attempted to drain all his frustration, Mark leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to Roger's forehead. It seemed to jolt the guitarist out of the frozen state he'd been in.

"Jesus, Mark, I–"

"I know," Mark cut him off. "It's okay. I understand."

"I love you," Roger told him, rubbing his hands up and down Mark's back soothingly. It was actually doing a lot to help him calm down.

"Love you, too," Mark replied, his stomach twisting at the look of relief and happiness that flowed over Roger's face.

"Um… sorry," Roger said as Mark climbed off him, sitting next to him and holding his hand instead of snuggling up to him. They both needed a while to come down from that, and the close contact wouldn't help.

"It's fine. Nothing to be sorry for," Mark reassured him, surprised to find he meant it.

They watched the rest of the movie in companionable silence, Roger giving his hand a squeeze every so often. Every time he did, a gentle smile stole over Mark's face.

They were almost there.

3 days later, 11:49 pm:

The lock clicked open loudly, and Roger stepped into his apartment, Mark close on his heels. The filmmaker was laughing so hard that he could barely walk straight. It was a good thing to see. Roger had missed Mark's laugh, but thank God he'd almost been getting an overdose of it the past month. Roger never knew that someone's laugh could be almost as addictive as heroin.

"Seriously," Mark gasped out, and Roger wrapped supporting arms around him from behind. "Did you see the look on his face?"

Mark leaned into him, accepting the support, and craned his neck to look at Roger. The guitarist had rested his chin on Mark's shoulder, so they nearly bumped noses. Roger took the opportunity to steal a quick kiss.

"Yeah," he answered belatedly. "Maybe Chris is onto something. I thought he was crazy, but… that reaction was just a little too strong, if you know what I mean."

They were referring to a few minutes ago, when everyone had been getting ready to leave the restaurant. Blake had been his usual self, boasting about his newest conquest he was planning on meeting up with tonight. He'd just been explaining her finer attributes, when Chris had let out a long-suffering sigh and said, "Shut up, you queen." It had seemed a simple barb at first, but the way Blake had completely freaked out, sputtering and turning bright-red under his dark skin had led everyone in the room to similar conclusions. And Christian's meaningful glance in Roger's direction hadn't been lost on the guitarist. Nor had the triumphant, "I was sooo right," grin.

"Uh-huh," Mark mumbled, leaning into Roger a little more. "I think Chris is rubbing off on me. I would never be so amused by something like this before." Roger chuckled.

"He must have helped you tap into your inner gay," he suggested.

Mark let out a short laugh.

"Mmm… something like that, I guess."

Roger pulled back, taking Mark's hand and leading him into the kitchen. The filmmaker immediately took his designated spot, jumping up and sitting on the counter. His feet dangled, bumping into the cupboards underneath. Roger flipped on his coffee-maker, pulling out a couple mugs.

This had become almost routine for them. Whenever they came back to one of their apartments after a date or a night out with friends, they'd always head to the kitchen, make coffee, and talk until they felt like going to sleep. On nights like this, it was usually an unspoken decision that Mark or Roger would be staying over, depending on whose apartment they headed to. The regularity of it was… kind of nice really.

It was doing a lot to calm Roger's nerves. Despite Christian's reassurance, he still felt a strong amount of trepidation at what he planned on doing. It felt almost exactly the same as it had that day he'd been in the hospital, itching in a borrowed tux, wondering if he was doing the right thing. He looked up when the coffee-maker started to bubble and Mark smiled at him.

"Hey," he said, looking a little nervous himself. "Uh… it's been a month today, you know… and, well… here."

Mark jumped off the counter and pushed a small piece of paper into Roger's hand. His own hand was shaking a little, and it was so unsure, so typical Mark, that Roger couldn't help but smile. He looked down at the card Mark had given him. It was a business card with a name and number Roger didn't recognize.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Well, I wasn't really sure what to get you… so I went with something I knew you could use," Mark answered, still looking a little nervous. "He's a friend of mine… A really good director. He's done some music videos for Guns N' Roses and one for the Rolling Stones. I talked to him about the Well Hungarians, and he seemed really interested. Told me to have you or your manager give him a call. Beth also said she'd let you use the studio to shoot, free of charge, as long as you scheduled a time with her first."

Roger was stunned. They'd just started talking about shooting a music video, anyway, and while they had more resources available since they'd been signed to Capitol, this was a huge help. Mark must have called in at least a couple favors. And if Mark said this director was good, that wasn't empty praise. The idea that Mark would do something like this for him…

Roger pulled the filmmaker into a hug after pocketing the card. Mark immediately returned it, letting out an almost inaudible sigh. Roger grinned, pulled back slightly and kissed him, taking a few long moments to re-learn the taste of the filmmaker's mouth, making Mark shudder when he traced his tongue along the roof. He broke the kiss only to nuzzle behind Mark's ear briefly. Mark laughed and hugged him tighter.

"I take it you like it, then?" he asked. Roger bit down slightly and Mark gasped.

"Mmmhmm," he hummed, leaning back and kissing Mark on the cheek. "Thanks."

They both jumped when the coffee-maker let out a particularly loud gurgle. When they realized what it was, they shared a smile, and Roger pulled Mark with him, sitting down at the kitchen table and dragging Mark onto his lap. They sat in companionable silence for a minute or two, Mark's fingers threading through Roger's hair as Roger rubbed his hands up and down Mark's sides. Mark sighed slightly.

"How come I always end up sitting on your lap?" he questioned, pushing a strand of hair away from Roger's eyes. Roger considered for a moment.

"Well, I weigh more than you," he stated, grinning at Mark's slight frown.

"I guess, but… it makes me feel like I'm the girl." Roger's grin widened.

"Baby, no one could mistake you for a girl," he assured, making his point by running a hand lightly over Mark's chest.

Mark blushed as Roger's hand trailed lower, skimming over his stomach, playing with the bottom of his shirt. He slipped his fingers underneath, rubbing that fine trail of hair that led down from Mark's belly-button. Mark gasped, his eyes snapping shut, and Roger's hand started to move a little lower…

The timer on the coffee-maker beeped loudly. Mark's eyes opened and he jumped off of Roger's lap even as the guitarist let out a soft curse. Mark just smiled and poured them both a mug, handing one to Roger and sitting in the chair next to him. He let out an amused snort when Roger grumbled into his drink. Roger hissed when he burned his tongue by taking a sip too soon.

After waiting a few minutes for his drink to cool down, Roger took another sip. He glanced up at Mark as the filmmaker took a sip himself. His mind raced, trying to come up with a way to bring up his own gift. He couldn't believe he was still so nervous. Just the thought of it made his hands shake slightly. He should have brought it up earlier, when Mark had given him the card. Now he had no idea how to start. He looked up to see Mark raising an eyebrow at him.

"What's up?" he asked. "You've been acting kind of jittery all evening. Something wrong?"

And there was that adorably concerned look on Mark's face. The one that always made Roger's heart thump loudly in his chest. Dammit. He wanted an opening, here it was.

"Well…I was just trying to…" he trailed off. Mark didn't interrupt, but just let him collect himself, looking on expectantly.

With a shaky exhale, Roger stood up and put his mug down on the table. He walked over to where Mark was sitting and crouched down, setting his hands on the filmmaker's thighs. He took a moment to search confused blue eyes with his green ones. Mark leaned forward slightly, threading his hands with Roger's and squeezing encouragingly.

"Like you said, it's been a month," Roger started. He leaned up and brushed their lips together briefly. "I love you, Mark. Every day I love you more." Mark blushed slightly, but moved his hands up and placed them around Roger's neck in a loose embrace.

"Love you too, Roger." Roger smiled. It never got old hearing it.

"I should tell you… I've never been happy like this my whole life… I… I want to spend the rest of it with you… and…" Shit. Here was the hard part. "Well, seriously… if I… bought you a ring, would you wear it?" he blurted out, mentally giving himself a kick in the butt. Way to be romantic.

Mark didn't seem to notice. His eyes had widened almost comically, and his arms had tightened around Roger's shoulders.

"What?" he whispered incredulously.

"Well…here."

Roger reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small box. He opened it, revealing two identical rings, both gold with silver etching weaved onto the bands. He took the first one and put it on his own left ring-finger, then took Mark's hand in his own, waiting for permission. Mark could only give a slight nod as he seemed to have lost his voice. Roger smiled and slipped the ring onto Mark's left hand. With a choked sound, Mark moved off the chair to kneel in front of Roger. At the same time, they reached out for each other, and Mark buried his face in Roger's neck.

"Thank you," he whispered, the sound muffled, but Roger heard him anyway. "I love you so much, Roger."

"Love you too," Roger whispered back, a huge grin on his face. "And you're welcome, baby."

Mark let out a short laugh and leaned back. Roger felt like he would just burst with all the affection he felt for the filmmaker swarming in his chest. How did Mark manage to make him feel this way?

He figured it was a moot point, leaning forward and capturing Mark's lips in a slow kiss. Mark immediately responded, wrapping his arms more tightly around Roger and pushing against him. They took a few long moments and kissed leisurely, lips caressing softly against one another. When Mark started licking at Roger's lips, though, everything seemed to go into overdrive.

Roger immediately opened his mouth. Their tongues glided wetly against each other, and Roger pulled Mark even closer, gathering the filmmaker into his lap. Mark kneeled over him, a knee on either side. Their hands darted everywhere over each other. With one hand, Roger squeezed Mark's hip, holding him in place while the other grabbed at his ass, teasing and rubbing. Mark moaned into his mouth, his own hands stopping their trek along Roger's torso to tangle in his hair, holding his head in place while he thrust his tongue into Roger's mouth.

Everything dissolved into heat. Roger loved it when Mark got a little more dominating like this, and Mark loved to be pushed to the point where he couldn't hold back anymore. Mark pulled back and Roger nearly whimpered at the loss. Then their eyes met, silent questions asked and answered. Then without further preliminary, Roger ripped his leather jacket off, hearing it skid across the kitchen floor after he threw it. He was about to reach down for his shirt, but Mark beat him to it, pulling it over his head and off. Roger returned the favor, and then they collapsed against each other again, both of them hissing into the kiss as the naked skin of their chests rubbed together.

Jesus, they were making out on Roger's kitchen floor, and Roger really didn't give a shit. Neither did Mark, if the panting gasps and trembling was any indication. Roger pulled back from the kiss with an audible smack and started mouthing at Mark's exposed collarbone. That got him more gasps in response, so he slid his tongue up, nibbling, biting and licking at the spot where shoulder met neck. He'd discovered in the past month that it was a particularly sensitive spot for Mark, and the groan the filmmaker let out only confirmed what he already knew.

The hand caressing Mark's hip moved, sliding to the front of Mark's jeans. Mark's hips thrust forward sharply and Mark pulled Roger's head up into another kiss. When Roger's hand finally came to rest on Mark's trapped erection, he gave a short squeeze. Mark moaned into the kiss and bit down on Roger's lower lip. Then Roger started kneading him through his jeans, and Mark pulled out of the kiss with another loud moan.

"Jesus… fuck… Roger!"

For his own part, Roger was so turned on by Mark's moans and curses he could barely breathe. Mark's hips started moving into his hand, and it had been way too long since they'd last done anything like this. Why in the hell had he ever wanted them to wait? He knew that now he was getting another taste of it, he'd never be able to get enough. Mark was a fucking drug.

After a few minutes of kneading at Mark's crotch, the filmmaker abruptly pulled his hand away. Roger was about to ask what was wrong, but Mark just caught him in another kiss. He started grinding their hips together, and holy shit that was so much better. Roger was sure he'd fall backwards on the floor any second now, and if he'd been standing up, he was sure his legs would've buckled. Mark leaned down and latched onto a nipple, sucking and biting. The sensation sent a bolt of arousal to Roger's groin. He tossed his head back, panting, and bucked up into Mark harder.

They moved together like that for a few long moments, Mark's hands rubbing all over his torso, Roger's hands kneading at Mark's ass and pulling him down harder. It only took a few seconds for Roger to realize that if they kept this up he was going to come in his pants, on his kitchen floor with Mark on top of him. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, he made a mental note to experience it sometime in the near future, but for now, he wanted to do more.

He slowed them down, feeling shocks of pleasure still spiking through him. Mark was in a similar state, and he had the added sensation of feeling like his skin was too tight. They were both panting, a light sheen of sweat covering exposed skin. Mark whimpered when they stopped completely, and Roger let out a groan.

"Bedroom," Roger whispered harshly to Mark's questioning look. He nearly collapsed at the heated stare Mark gave him then, and he realized he was shuddering slightly.

"Good call," Mark gasped back, standing up and pulling Roger with him. They stumbled into the bedroom, and if they were in any other situation, Roger would have found it funny that they didn't even seem to be able to walk straight. They both fell onto the bed, and Roger stretched himself half on top of Mark, tangling their legs together.

They kissed slowly again, Mark rubbing his hands up and down Roger's back, tracing the bumps of his spine while Roger used one hand to caress up and down Mark's side. Mark did some particularly wicked things with his tongue, wrapping it around Roger's and pulling it into his mouth to suck on it. Roger pulled back with a slight gasp.

"How do you want to do this?" he asked when he'd gathered the breath to do so.

"I don't really care," Mark muttered. "But whatever we do, the next thing has got to be what does it. I'm about to come as it is." Roger's eyes snapped shut and he shivered. He knew Mark was really to-the-point about stuff, but Jesus.

Okay. Obviously, this is where I felt it was good to cut. Even though I probably should've cut earlier, but meh, you can all deal with it. Who wouldn't want to read the smut anyway? Yeah, that's what I thought.

You can find the rest here:

http(dotdotslashslash) community. livejournal. com / (underscore)rentfic/ 414813. html # cutid1

I had to (parenthasize) some of the symbols, because apparently FF doesn't allow them in fanfic.Or something. Just translate it to normal coding.

And take out the spaces, yo.

Of course, if that bugs you, just look in my profile. I'll post the unabridged link there.

The only thing he knew for sure right now was that he wanted Mark in his arms. He pulled Mark close to him, kissing him slowly while they cooled off, tongues and teeth meeting without the heat behind it, but a warm affection. Finally, Mark pulled back a little and placed a chaste kiss to the edge of his mouth.

"Wow," he murmured, rubbing his hands over Roger's cooling chest, feeling the crinkle of the hair under his fingers.

"I think that sums it up," Roger agreed, biting back a yawn and pulling the covers up over them. He glanced at the clock. It was past two in the morning.

Mark snuggled into him, tangling their legs together and resting his head on Roger's chest. Roger's arms wrapped tightly around his waist, and he nuzzled at the top of Mark's head.

"Love you," Mark whispered, his left hand shifting a little as he felt the ring still there.

"Love you too, baby," Roger replied, a smile on his face, eyes drooping.

Mark placed one more kiss on Roger's lips, then settled down for sleep, listening to their breathing lengthen. Right before he dropped off, he couldn't help but ask,

"You're still gonna be here tomorrow, right?"

Roger tightened his grip even more, rubbing at the small of Mark's back.

"Mark, there's no way you'll ever be able to get rid of me after this."

They drifted off to sleep, gentle smiles playing on their faces.

They'd finally come home.

Teehee. There you are. One more chapter to go, and then the one-shots. Looking forward to writing them. Review for me, bitches! XD