A/n: oh I'm so happy I've gotten good reviews! It makes my day! I have one
more chapter written after this and then after that I will have to find
time to write more cause I love writing this story. Don't get too used to
the sap though.a story should have conflict so unfortunately I must add it
::frowns:: although in my mind all m/r is one big happy life but I suppose
they're human too.well, close enough! Still the works of Jonathan Larson.
Oh! And last cpt's title I got from a song by Cary Shields and this cpt is
by Matt Caplan.
Marks P.O.V.
"Well it's about god-damned time." He shoots me a look after a near twenty minutes of silence. He appears confused when I look up, gazing into his dark brown eyes.
"What d'you mean?" His deep gorgeous voice echoes in the crisp salty air. He rubs the back of my head. How does he know how much I love that? Sounds stupid, I know, but it gives me a sense of security. I finally answer him when I regain reality.
"I wish you told me earlier that you were gay, or at least wanted to try kissing a guy." I giggle, am I seriously this giddy when I'm in love?
"I didn't wa-" he stops mid word. "How did you know?!?" He sounds flustered, knowing Roger he is probably thinking 'is it that obvious? Do other people know?' I just have to laugh at him; he is too cute to let go. He sits up nearly throwing me off him. I regain my balance and pull my knees up to my chest.
"It's called gaydar honey, you should have it by now too." I started laughing when I thought of how much this was not like Roger. He was not the stereotypical gay male, or as flamboyant as me (sometimes I catch myself). But I knew that he was interested or "questioning" by the way he rustled my hair or pats me on the back at times.
He tried to protest but I gave him a look that says, "face it, I'm right." "You coulda said something too you know." I look at him and raise my eyebrows. That was hardly a defense.
"And make a fool of myself? No, I'm pathetic Roger, you know that, you make fun of me all the time." I look down but see him vaguely. He is looking at me, hurt.
"You're not pathetic, Mark." He tries to fight for me, against me. This ought to be good. "Damnit Mark, I'm sorry, I was only kidding. If you could only realize how amazing you are and what you do for us all! If it weren't for you our 'community' we, YOU, created would have been dead years ago."
The sincerity in his voice is remarkable. I knew Roger was a great person but I have never seen this side of him. I loved it, along with everything else about the perfect musician.
He picks up my hand, sitting across from me. "Is this okay?" He makes sure. Like he really needs to ask? I nod.
"If only see what I see Mark. If we all had a quarter of your talent, looks, and personality we would be as close to perfect as possible."
Wow, I never knew this man, my best friend, was capable of this. He puts his hand on the back of my neck. A series of shivers run through me.
"I love you." He whispers while closing in on my lips but I stop him before they make contact. He moves back with a twinge of fear in his eyes.
I feel I have to explain. He has poured his whole heart out to me in the past thirty minutes. Now he needs to know what I feel. I place my hands gently on top of his.
"Thank you.for loving me this much. Ever since I was in school, I could not concentrate on work. I spent too much time imagining what it would be like to kiss you." I cannot believe I am admitting my pitiful boyhood. "I admired you for so long, hell I still do. You're beautiful Roger, you know that?" He blushes, so do I. Even in the dark, I can tell.
"You could have anyone you want." I take a deep breath, not wanting to finish this. I just want to hold him and have him hold me, but I cannot keep my insecurities to myself that I have had for years. "Which is why I don't think you should be with me. I'm just.Mark and you should-"
"Stop Mark." I pretend not to hear him. "-should be with someone who can share things with you. I'm no good at partying, or drinking, or sex or-" "Stop Mark." He interrupts again. I ignore it again. "-or even love altogether. I don't even think I am capable of it. I- " "SHUTTUP MARK!" he yells and I stop. He looks directly at me but I can't meet his gaze.
"Listen to me." My pessimistic mind is thinking 'good luck with this one.' He forces my chin up in his palm to look at him and to make me see the actual love in his eyes.
"I don't choose people for what they are. That's complete bullshit. I've loved you since the very beginning only because you ARE mark. And as far as I am concerned, we have the most important thing in common. We ONLY want each other, I don't care what you say."
Is Roger crying? I've seen him cry once before and that was when he said goodbye to me when he left for Santa-oh. It hit me. It was a hard emotional hit. I think this man that I had gawked over for years, and happened to be my best friend, did love me. I suddenly do not feel like the usual naïve and negative Mark I just was. I grab Roger by the neck and kiss him. As much as I could before we both needed to breathe.
"Do you believe me now?" he asks, still breathing deep. We are always sarcastic with each other; I use that to my advantage now.
"No, not yet." I respond, knowing it will lighten the mood and probably get him to kiss me again. Always a plus.
I was right. He laughs and tickles my stomach. Falling onto my back, I pull him by his shirt on top of me. His muscular dense form crushing me into the sand, I have a feeling like never before. I have the man I always dreamed about. How did I get this lucky?
Marks P.O.V.
"Well it's about god-damned time." He shoots me a look after a near twenty minutes of silence. He appears confused when I look up, gazing into his dark brown eyes.
"What d'you mean?" His deep gorgeous voice echoes in the crisp salty air. He rubs the back of my head. How does he know how much I love that? Sounds stupid, I know, but it gives me a sense of security. I finally answer him when I regain reality.
"I wish you told me earlier that you were gay, or at least wanted to try kissing a guy." I giggle, am I seriously this giddy when I'm in love?
"I didn't wa-" he stops mid word. "How did you know?!?" He sounds flustered, knowing Roger he is probably thinking 'is it that obvious? Do other people know?' I just have to laugh at him; he is too cute to let go. He sits up nearly throwing me off him. I regain my balance and pull my knees up to my chest.
"It's called gaydar honey, you should have it by now too." I started laughing when I thought of how much this was not like Roger. He was not the stereotypical gay male, or as flamboyant as me (sometimes I catch myself). But I knew that he was interested or "questioning" by the way he rustled my hair or pats me on the back at times.
He tried to protest but I gave him a look that says, "face it, I'm right." "You coulda said something too you know." I look at him and raise my eyebrows. That was hardly a defense.
"And make a fool of myself? No, I'm pathetic Roger, you know that, you make fun of me all the time." I look down but see him vaguely. He is looking at me, hurt.
"You're not pathetic, Mark." He tries to fight for me, against me. This ought to be good. "Damnit Mark, I'm sorry, I was only kidding. If you could only realize how amazing you are and what you do for us all! If it weren't for you our 'community' we, YOU, created would have been dead years ago."
The sincerity in his voice is remarkable. I knew Roger was a great person but I have never seen this side of him. I loved it, along with everything else about the perfect musician.
He picks up my hand, sitting across from me. "Is this okay?" He makes sure. Like he really needs to ask? I nod.
"If only see what I see Mark. If we all had a quarter of your talent, looks, and personality we would be as close to perfect as possible."
Wow, I never knew this man, my best friend, was capable of this. He puts his hand on the back of my neck. A series of shivers run through me.
"I love you." He whispers while closing in on my lips but I stop him before they make contact. He moves back with a twinge of fear in his eyes.
I feel I have to explain. He has poured his whole heart out to me in the past thirty minutes. Now he needs to know what I feel. I place my hands gently on top of his.
"Thank you.for loving me this much. Ever since I was in school, I could not concentrate on work. I spent too much time imagining what it would be like to kiss you." I cannot believe I am admitting my pitiful boyhood. "I admired you for so long, hell I still do. You're beautiful Roger, you know that?" He blushes, so do I. Even in the dark, I can tell.
"You could have anyone you want." I take a deep breath, not wanting to finish this. I just want to hold him and have him hold me, but I cannot keep my insecurities to myself that I have had for years. "Which is why I don't think you should be with me. I'm just.Mark and you should-"
"Stop Mark." I pretend not to hear him. "-should be with someone who can share things with you. I'm no good at partying, or drinking, or sex or-" "Stop Mark." He interrupts again. I ignore it again. "-or even love altogether. I don't even think I am capable of it. I- " "SHUTTUP MARK!" he yells and I stop. He looks directly at me but I can't meet his gaze.
"Listen to me." My pessimistic mind is thinking 'good luck with this one.' He forces my chin up in his palm to look at him and to make me see the actual love in his eyes.
"I don't choose people for what they are. That's complete bullshit. I've loved you since the very beginning only because you ARE mark. And as far as I am concerned, we have the most important thing in common. We ONLY want each other, I don't care what you say."
Is Roger crying? I've seen him cry once before and that was when he said goodbye to me when he left for Santa-oh. It hit me. It was a hard emotional hit. I think this man that I had gawked over for years, and happened to be my best friend, did love me. I suddenly do not feel like the usual naïve and negative Mark I just was. I grab Roger by the neck and kiss him. As much as I could before we both needed to breathe.
"Do you believe me now?" he asks, still breathing deep. We are always sarcastic with each other; I use that to my advantage now.
"No, not yet." I respond, knowing it will lighten the mood and probably get him to kiss me again. Always a plus.
I was right. He laughs and tickles my stomach. Falling onto my back, I pull him by his shirt on top of me. His muscular dense form crushing me into the sand, I have a feeling like never before. I have the man I always dreamed about. How did I get this lucky?
