Author's Notes: Well, it took me about a year, but I finally got the damn thing finished. I'm madly in love with all the wonderful reviewers, and I promise I'll check out all of your stuff as soon as I get the chance (yes, even the lovely A-Chan. You'll get what's coming to you, sweetheart…::evil grin::) Peace, love, and chocolate chip cookies to all!!!

"Kiss me."

'What are you doing?' part of my mind screamed. 'He'll hate you for this, he'll never look you in the eye again! You'll ruin everything you've ever had with him! The midnight card games, the long talks about nothing, you'll lost it all!' Yet the deeper, most secret part of my heart, yearned to be held, to be loved.

I didn't know what I was doing. I wasn't thinking or rationalizing my behavior. I was just feeling, just trying to make the pain go away. I was hurting, hurting so badly I thought I might bleed myself to death. Mark could heal me, I know he could. he could wrap me in his arms and soothe away the ache. He could whisper meaningless words of caring and warmth, and I might let myself believe him.

Mark pulled away from me, confusion and disbelief etched on his face.

"W-what?"

Now's my chance. I can bluff my way out of this, can back away from my best friend. Now's my chance to turn around and walk away from Mark. Mark, the last piece of April I have.

Now's my chance.

I stepped forward and enfolded him in my arms.

"Kiss me, Mark."

I felt him tense up. He backed up again, slowly.

"Roger...I...we-why?" he stuttered, not sure what he was asking.

"Please, Mark. I need you right now," I said quietly. "Just hold me. Hold me and kiss me and love me. Oh god Mark, please love me."

I reached out my hand, risking everything in one moment. This was it, my last hope. Mark was my lifeline, my savior. He held my life in his hands, held my heart in his choice. He could pull me back into the light, could comfort me on cold nights with the gentle pressure of his hand. Or he could turn me away. He could refuse and leave me broken on the floor, could walk out of my life and let me die of a shattered soul.

I held my breath and waited.

Mark walked toward me slowly. He reached up and touched my face with feather-light fingers. He traced my cheekbones down to my chin, as if he were a blind man. I closed my eyes, hardly daring to breathe.

When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion.

"Oh Roger. I've missed you so much."

He cupped my face and drew it down to his own. His lips brushed against mine in a chaste kiss, innocent and sweet. I touched his face gently, and my fingers came away wet.

He was crying.

I drew back to look at him. Slow tears trickled down his face, the tears of love and life and pain. He cried when his heart was dying, and when he was healing mine. And I loved him all the more for it.

He was beautiful. Slender fingers still rested on my face, hands shaking from emotion. His thin body was mere inches from my own, radiating heat. He stared at me with eyes huge from a delicate mixture of love and fear, eyes that seemed scared and tender and hopeful all at once.

I reached out to hold him again, needing his body against mine. It felt so right, so achingly perfect. I wanted to stay like this for eternity, resting in the arms of my beloved. It was as close to heaven as I wanted to get before I die.

I kissed him on his forehead, then again on the nose. I kissed his cheeks and the corners of his eyes, finally moving down to capture his lips with my own. I ran my tounge over his lips, coaxing his mouth open. He resisted at first, alarmed at the new turn in which things were going. But only for a moment. He held my face firmly in front of him, one hand reaching around to hold the back of my head. I let my hands drift to his waist, pressing him against the wall. I ground my hips into his, enjoying his strangled moan. I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, hands made clumsy with passion. Finally, I managed to get them undone.

I kissed my way down his neck, leaving a trail of bite marks. I smiled, and took one dark pink nipple in my mouth. Mark arched his back with a gasp, squirming with pleasure. I liked having this effect on him, on being able to make him feel good. It was the same with April. I'd always known what she liked to feel, how she liked to be touched.

It was almost like being with her again. The same smell, the same taste. It was all coming back to me; making love at midnight, with stars shining down through the windows. In a way, it made it worse. I missed her so much, missed the way she used to tease me and play with me. When I trailed my fingers down Mark's ribcage, it was like touching her again. When I kissed the hollow of Mark's throat, it wasn't him I tasted, but her. Oh April. Please don't stop. Don't ever stop.

Suddenly, Mark pulled away from me.

"What did you say?" he asked quietly, a strange emotion on his face.

I was confused. "Say? I didn't say anything, baby. What's wrong?"

He shook his head, as if he didn't want to believe it. "No, you said something. You said her name. April."

I felt like someone knocked the wind out of me. Had I really said that? No, I couldn't possibly be that stupid. I would never do that, would never hurt Mark like that. Would I?

"Mark, I didn't-"

Slap.

Mark had hit me with all the force he could muster, slapping me across the face. He stood facing me, furious. His cheeks were still flushed from passion, his shirt still undone. His eyes were flashing with hurt and anger, his hands balled into fists at his side. When he spoke, it was deathly quiet.

"How could you?"

I wanted to close my eyes, wanted to look away. I didn't want to see how badly I'd wounded him. I wanted to run away and hide. After all, that's what I did, wasn't it? When things get tough, the tough get going, right?

"Mark, I-"

"Don't" he said, halting me. "Don't speak, don't fill my head with your pretty lies. It was her all along, wasn't it? You never wanted me, never meant what you said. You just got horny and thought I was an easy lay, is that it?"

"No! No, it wasn't like that at all, I just-I just needed someone..."

"You needed someone? You fucking needed someone?! Is that all you have to say?" Mark shouted, hot tears spilling down his face. "Tell me Roger, did you ever think about how I'd feel? Did it even occur to you that maybe, just maybe, I might not want to be your fuck-toy?! Or did you even stop to think about me at all? Did you ever, in your whole life, think about anyone but yourself?!"

The last accusation echoed through the house. I hung my head, unable to answer. It was true, I knew it. I hadn't thought about how I might be hurting him. But he so looked like April. If I couldn't have her, then couldn't I at least have him?

Mark wiped away his tears with the back of his hand and straightened. The anger was gone from him, replaced with a sadness and weariness that should have never marked a face so young.

"I'm leaving now," he said softly. "I won't live a lie, and I won't be a replacement, not for April or anybody else. I loved you, Roger. For a very long time. Good-bye."

Then, he slowly walked out the door.

Footsteps, fading away into darkness.

Then silence.

Then nothing.