Disclaimers and summary on first chapter
Notes: I'm dead on my feet at the moment. After tech week and a weekend of performances, not to mention skipping school today to catch up on homework all I need is a good hug. Why do I not own Adam Pascal on a leash somewhere? Sorry I'm again late on the update. I warn you, I've gone a little brain dead. Forgive me if this chapter sucks.
Chapter 26 -Only Mark-
+Mark's POV+
I shuffle into the school, thoroughly disappointed my plan at faking sick had failed. In no mood to deal with either peers or teachers I slip into the bathroom, ready to avoid as much of the school day as possible.
Shit.
Not Roger, not now. I try to leave before he sees me, but I catch his eye in the mirror and know it's pointless to run. I notice the air is full of smoke and see Roger drop something in the trash. He coughs slightly and I narrow my eyes.
"What was that?"
He glares back at me. "What do you care?"
Not used to him taking such a harsh tone with me I take a step backwards. "I thought you weren't into all this shit."
He shakes his head and starts to push past me. "It's just a cigarette, Mark. A fucking cigarette."
"What's wrong with you?" I ask him heatedly. As far as I know he's never deliberately avoided talking to me.
He stops and turns to look back at me. He's not just angry, he looks pained as well but he's trying to mask it with the other emotion.
"You know, Mark," He says quietly. "If you didn't want to be with me, you shouldn't have said anything." He looks at the ground.
"What? What do you mean by. . ."
He glares up at me again. "I looked up that word, stigma. That you used in the car before you left? Are you ashamed of yourself? Of me? Why did you bother, Mark?" He moves to leave again. "God, you're cruel." He mutters under his breath before walking out the door.
I watch him go, stunned. I hadn't meant to hurt him by what I said. He probably thinks I was leading him on, that I don't even like him or something. I'm hurt that he believes that, but understand why he would. What else have I given him to believe? I start to open the door and hurry to try and find him before school starts officially.
I jog slightly down junior hall, where I can only assume his locker is, and hope he's around somewhere. I don't see him, or too many other people, there's only a minute or two until class starts. I keep going through senior hall and finally to the front lobby when the bell rings. I see him leaving through the front door and run to catch up with him.
"Roger! Roger, wait!"
He hesitantly stops and waits for me to reach him. I run and stop in front of him, holding out my hands dumbly, as if I could stop him if I wanted to.
"I didn't mean to. . ."
Roger glares at me. "No one ever means to."
I remember a very similar conversation last night at home. I cautiously reach out to touch him and am surprised that he allows my hand to grasp his. I feel his hand shaking slightly and I tighten my grip. I don't want him to hurt like this, I want him to feel content and be happy and perfect. Everything I always thought he was. I look up in his eyes and feel stupid for having lied to my mom, to myself. How could I deny this? I want those hours from the weekend back. Sitting next to each other, his arms around me, feeling his lips on mine, or on my forehead. Knowing he was there beside me when I fell asleep and listening to his heartbeat when I laid my head against his chest.
"I'm sorry, Roger. I really am." I say quietly, still fearful of how he may react. "I'm just, well, not sure. No, I'm not not sure, I'm just. . ." I pull away. "Shit. I don't know. I don't even know what I mean."
To my surprise he smiles slightly. "I understand, Mark. I think I do, anyway. Cause I feel the same way. I don't really know what we're doing anyway either, I just know that I like you and when I think about you and the way you smile, yeah like that." He says when I feel myself blush and look away shyly. "I don't know, Mark. It makes me happy."
Roger looks back at the school. "Do you really want to go today?"
I shake my head.
He takes my hand again and pulls me toward the parking lot. "What do you want to do?"
I shrug, watching his face as he thinks. He looks down at me. "I just got my paycheck, want to go back downtown?"
"Paycheck? You work?"
He laughs. "Don't sound so surprised. Just cause you're a slacker doesn't mean the rest of us have to be."
"But you've never told me. . ."
He shrugs. "Where did you think I get all my money?"
"Whore yourself out? I don't know."
I nudge him because he laughs loud and long, right outside of a full classroom.
"No, I work a night or two a week washing dishes at that fancy restaurant in the next town."
"Really? They pay good?"
"Not bad. It's a lot of work even though it's only once or twice a week. I usually get fifty or so every week or two. When I get paid depends on how often I work."
He opens the door for me and offers me a hand which I roll my eyes at and shove away.
"I think I can manage."
He winks at me. "You sure? The fairy princess always needs assistance from her gallant Prince Charming."
"You're the fairy princess, you were the one picking out prom dresses and all." I snort. "And you, dear Prince, are far from charming."
He looks offended. "I am nothing but!"
I shake my head at him, but move over to sit against him once he's in the car. Slowly, in case I move away, he leans over and kisses my cheek. I allow it and lay my head against his shoulder when he pulls away again.
"Do you need to get anything from home first?" He asks.
I shrug. "How long are we staying?"
"You want to stay the night again?" He tries to hide the hope in his voice, but fails. I smile to myself.
"Yeah, sure. So yeah, I need to stop really quick."
"Yeah, me too." He says, then grins. "I need to pick up my toothbrush."
I elbow him gently and he laughs, winking at me.
+++
We sit next to each other on the small, stained bed. Roger looks over at me and hesitantly brings his arm around my shoulders. I move closer to him and tilt my head up to kiss his chin. He moves his head and presses his lips to mine. I pull away a few moments later.
"I'm tired." I tell him. He nods and agrees. He moves so we can pull the blankets down and we both climb underneath. I slide back into his arms and he kisses my forehead gently. There's still light outside, but that doesn't matter to us.
+++
When I wake up I'm very conscious of the feel of his hands on my body. I don't normally let people touch me; I think it's unnecessary and usually inappropriate. I still haven't completely adjusted to Roger's frequent need for physical affection yet, though I've unknowingly started returning or initiating it. I realize I never called home to tell them I was sleeping somewhere else. That somewhere else being a seedy motel in New York City with my boyfriend that I don't have because I'm not gay. Or studying with Maureen as far as they'll ever need to know.
I lift up my arm and check my watch. 10:23. They're still up, I could call and not be killed for it later. I remember seeing a payphone about a block away from here. Deciding it's a good option, I slowly remove myself from Roger's grasp and reach for my shoes. I stand and go to the door, digging through my pockets for change as I go. I open and close the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up. I think about the last time I walked by myself out here, but quickly push the thought away. I'll be fine.
"Hello?" My mother sounds tired.
"Hey mom, it's Mark. I didn't wake you did. . ."
"Mark! Where are you? Why didn't you call?"
"I'm calling now, aren't I?"
"Where are you? Are you with. . ."
"Maureen? Yes. We're studying. Roger's not even here. Make sure to tell dad that." I say irritably.
My mother sighs. "I'd really rather you come home, but. . . What are you studying for exactly?"
"History test. Civil War. It's hard stuff, we'll be up late so I'll probably just spend the night."
She sighs again. "Alright, Mark. But please tell me before you do this again, I don't like when you just disappear like this."
"Alright."
"See you tomorrow, Mark. I love you."
"Yeah, love you too, mom." I tell her quickly, and hang up.
Walking away from the phone I shove my hands in my pockets. I feel bad for lying to her, but I don't want her to know the truth. She wouldn't care that I was with Roger, but where I was with Roger would be a little more cause for concern. Halfway back to the motel I hear my name being yelled. I turn around and realize that it's Roger. He doesn't see me, but he's walking on the opposite side of the street looking rather worried and calling my name. Now I have even more to feel guilty about.
"Roger!" I yell. He looks over in my direction and starts running. He doesn't even bother looking before he crosses the street. That car that's turning isn't slowing down. Oh shit. I don't think I'm strong enough to. . .
I don't think either, I start running. It all happens in a second. He stops in the middle of the street, I hear the squeal of breaks and I feel a breeze across my back as I run into him, pushing him out of the way. I fall on top of him and we roll together a couple of times before finally coming to a rest. I hear somebody yelling, then rubber burning as they speed away. Shaking, I open my eyes. Roger is looking up at me, his eyes wide and unbelieving.
"What did you just do?" He asks me in a quiet voice.
I pull myself off of him, and he slowly sits up. Using a car parked behind him for support he stands up and moves over to me. He takes my hands and looks down at them then back up at me.
"Wow, Mark. Just. . . wow." He pulls one hand away and runs it through his hair. "I never would have thought. . ."
I take my hand away offended. "That I would do anything for you?" I glare at him. "I care about you, Roger, whatever you may think."
He smiles shyly. "Well, I mean. . . I've never seen you so motivated. When you started running toward me, it was kind of intimidating. And I never would have thought you'd be strong enough to move me that much." He grins and punches me in the arm.
I rub at my arm. "Remind me to teach you how to hit like a girl. My arms are all bruised from your little 'love taps'."
He blushes slightly. "Sorry, baby."
I shiver. "Oh please, no pet names."
"Can I still call you Marky?"
I roll my eyes. "I wish I could threaten you believably."
"Say you'll leave me." He smiles.
"Fine. I'll leave you if you call me Marky again."
He puts his hands up in mock defeat. "Alright, fine. It's Mark. Only Mark."
I punch him in the arm with all my strength. He doesn't even flinch and he barely moves. He laughs and I fume, I can't do anything else.
He kisses me lightly and takes my hand. "You're adorable when you're angry." He whispers to me as we walk. I know I'm blushing.
"Faggots!"
I cringe and pull away from Roger. He reaches for my arm.
"Mark? Mark what's wrong?"
I move so he's between me and the direction the voice came from. "Didn't you hear it?"
"Hear what?"
"Hey! Get a room you fucking queers!"
Roger narrows his eyes at the offenders, who I see are two guys around our age. He starts to move toward them. I grab his arm.
"Rog, let's just go back to the room. Please?" I beg him. I don't want to deal with this.
He tries to shake me off and takes another step but I grab him again, with a firmer grip. "Roger, no. Come on, I don't want to do this."
He stops and looks down at me questioningly. I shake my head and he gives up and follows me down the street. I can still hear them behind us, and I shiver. Once we're inside the room again Roger pulls me into his arms.
"Mark, I'm sorry that you're offended by people like that. I'm sorry they bother you, but it's something you have to deal with. You can't hide behind me forever."
"Why don't they bother you?"
"They do, but not in the same way. You're scared of them, you care what they think. I just think they're idiots and would like a chance at putting them in their place." He rests his chin on top of my head and I close my eyes. He rubs his hands over my back gently. Already I feel better. God, I love him.
I open my eyes. Wait, what?
+++
Notes Continued: Yes I know I'm pathetic and it's such a clique to end a chapter on that note. I'm so lame. Please review and tell me how much of a loser I am, and in return I'll actually update when I say I will. Deal? Haha... anyone else picking up the 'I'm emotionally and physically exhausted and hate everything but RENT' vibes? They're practically causing an earthquake over here.
Notes: I'm dead on my feet at the moment. After tech week and a weekend of performances, not to mention skipping school today to catch up on homework all I need is a good hug. Why do I not own Adam Pascal on a leash somewhere? Sorry I'm again late on the update. I warn you, I've gone a little brain dead. Forgive me if this chapter sucks.
Chapter 26 -Only Mark-
+Mark's POV+
I shuffle into the school, thoroughly disappointed my plan at faking sick had failed. In no mood to deal with either peers or teachers I slip into the bathroom, ready to avoid as much of the school day as possible.
Shit.
Not Roger, not now. I try to leave before he sees me, but I catch his eye in the mirror and know it's pointless to run. I notice the air is full of smoke and see Roger drop something in the trash. He coughs slightly and I narrow my eyes.
"What was that?"
He glares back at me. "What do you care?"
Not used to him taking such a harsh tone with me I take a step backwards. "I thought you weren't into all this shit."
He shakes his head and starts to push past me. "It's just a cigarette, Mark. A fucking cigarette."
"What's wrong with you?" I ask him heatedly. As far as I know he's never deliberately avoided talking to me.
He stops and turns to look back at me. He's not just angry, he looks pained as well but he's trying to mask it with the other emotion.
"You know, Mark," He says quietly. "If you didn't want to be with me, you shouldn't have said anything." He looks at the ground.
"What? What do you mean by. . ."
He glares up at me again. "I looked up that word, stigma. That you used in the car before you left? Are you ashamed of yourself? Of me? Why did you bother, Mark?" He moves to leave again. "God, you're cruel." He mutters under his breath before walking out the door.
I watch him go, stunned. I hadn't meant to hurt him by what I said. He probably thinks I was leading him on, that I don't even like him or something. I'm hurt that he believes that, but understand why he would. What else have I given him to believe? I start to open the door and hurry to try and find him before school starts officially.
I jog slightly down junior hall, where I can only assume his locker is, and hope he's around somewhere. I don't see him, or too many other people, there's only a minute or two until class starts. I keep going through senior hall and finally to the front lobby when the bell rings. I see him leaving through the front door and run to catch up with him.
"Roger! Roger, wait!"
He hesitantly stops and waits for me to reach him. I run and stop in front of him, holding out my hands dumbly, as if I could stop him if I wanted to.
"I didn't mean to. . ."
Roger glares at me. "No one ever means to."
I remember a very similar conversation last night at home. I cautiously reach out to touch him and am surprised that he allows my hand to grasp his. I feel his hand shaking slightly and I tighten my grip. I don't want him to hurt like this, I want him to feel content and be happy and perfect. Everything I always thought he was. I look up in his eyes and feel stupid for having lied to my mom, to myself. How could I deny this? I want those hours from the weekend back. Sitting next to each other, his arms around me, feeling his lips on mine, or on my forehead. Knowing he was there beside me when I fell asleep and listening to his heartbeat when I laid my head against his chest.
"I'm sorry, Roger. I really am." I say quietly, still fearful of how he may react. "I'm just, well, not sure. No, I'm not not sure, I'm just. . ." I pull away. "Shit. I don't know. I don't even know what I mean."
To my surprise he smiles slightly. "I understand, Mark. I think I do, anyway. Cause I feel the same way. I don't really know what we're doing anyway either, I just know that I like you and when I think about you and the way you smile, yeah like that." He says when I feel myself blush and look away shyly. "I don't know, Mark. It makes me happy."
Roger looks back at the school. "Do you really want to go today?"
I shake my head.
He takes my hand again and pulls me toward the parking lot. "What do you want to do?"
I shrug, watching his face as he thinks. He looks down at me. "I just got my paycheck, want to go back downtown?"
"Paycheck? You work?"
He laughs. "Don't sound so surprised. Just cause you're a slacker doesn't mean the rest of us have to be."
"But you've never told me. . ."
He shrugs. "Where did you think I get all my money?"
"Whore yourself out? I don't know."
I nudge him because he laughs loud and long, right outside of a full classroom.
"No, I work a night or two a week washing dishes at that fancy restaurant in the next town."
"Really? They pay good?"
"Not bad. It's a lot of work even though it's only once or twice a week. I usually get fifty or so every week or two. When I get paid depends on how often I work."
He opens the door for me and offers me a hand which I roll my eyes at and shove away.
"I think I can manage."
He winks at me. "You sure? The fairy princess always needs assistance from her gallant Prince Charming."
"You're the fairy princess, you were the one picking out prom dresses and all." I snort. "And you, dear Prince, are far from charming."
He looks offended. "I am nothing but!"
I shake my head at him, but move over to sit against him once he's in the car. Slowly, in case I move away, he leans over and kisses my cheek. I allow it and lay my head against his shoulder when he pulls away again.
"Do you need to get anything from home first?" He asks.
I shrug. "How long are we staying?"
"You want to stay the night again?" He tries to hide the hope in his voice, but fails. I smile to myself.
"Yeah, sure. So yeah, I need to stop really quick."
"Yeah, me too." He says, then grins. "I need to pick up my toothbrush."
I elbow him gently and he laughs, winking at me.
+++
We sit next to each other on the small, stained bed. Roger looks over at me and hesitantly brings his arm around my shoulders. I move closer to him and tilt my head up to kiss his chin. He moves his head and presses his lips to mine. I pull away a few moments later.
"I'm tired." I tell him. He nods and agrees. He moves so we can pull the blankets down and we both climb underneath. I slide back into his arms and he kisses my forehead gently. There's still light outside, but that doesn't matter to us.
+++
When I wake up I'm very conscious of the feel of his hands on my body. I don't normally let people touch me; I think it's unnecessary and usually inappropriate. I still haven't completely adjusted to Roger's frequent need for physical affection yet, though I've unknowingly started returning or initiating it. I realize I never called home to tell them I was sleeping somewhere else. That somewhere else being a seedy motel in New York City with my boyfriend that I don't have because I'm not gay. Or studying with Maureen as far as they'll ever need to know.
I lift up my arm and check my watch. 10:23. They're still up, I could call and not be killed for it later. I remember seeing a payphone about a block away from here. Deciding it's a good option, I slowly remove myself from Roger's grasp and reach for my shoes. I stand and go to the door, digging through my pockets for change as I go. I open and close the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up. I think about the last time I walked by myself out here, but quickly push the thought away. I'll be fine.
"Hello?" My mother sounds tired.
"Hey mom, it's Mark. I didn't wake you did. . ."
"Mark! Where are you? Why didn't you call?"
"I'm calling now, aren't I?"
"Where are you? Are you with. . ."
"Maureen? Yes. We're studying. Roger's not even here. Make sure to tell dad that." I say irritably.
My mother sighs. "I'd really rather you come home, but. . . What are you studying for exactly?"
"History test. Civil War. It's hard stuff, we'll be up late so I'll probably just spend the night."
She sighs again. "Alright, Mark. But please tell me before you do this again, I don't like when you just disappear like this."
"Alright."
"See you tomorrow, Mark. I love you."
"Yeah, love you too, mom." I tell her quickly, and hang up.
Walking away from the phone I shove my hands in my pockets. I feel bad for lying to her, but I don't want her to know the truth. She wouldn't care that I was with Roger, but where I was with Roger would be a little more cause for concern. Halfway back to the motel I hear my name being yelled. I turn around and realize that it's Roger. He doesn't see me, but he's walking on the opposite side of the street looking rather worried and calling my name. Now I have even more to feel guilty about.
"Roger!" I yell. He looks over in my direction and starts running. He doesn't even bother looking before he crosses the street. That car that's turning isn't slowing down. Oh shit. I don't think I'm strong enough to. . .
I don't think either, I start running. It all happens in a second. He stops in the middle of the street, I hear the squeal of breaks and I feel a breeze across my back as I run into him, pushing him out of the way. I fall on top of him and we roll together a couple of times before finally coming to a rest. I hear somebody yelling, then rubber burning as they speed away. Shaking, I open my eyes. Roger is looking up at me, his eyes wide and unbelieving.
"What did you just do?" He asks me in a quiet voice.
I pull myself off of him, and he slowly sits up. Using a car parked behind him for support he stands up and moves over to me. He takes my hands and looks down at them then back up at me.
"Wow, Mark. Just. . . wow." He pulls one hand away and runs it through his hair. "I never would have thought. . ."
I take my hand away offended. "That I would do anything for you?" I glare at him. "I care about you, Roger, whatever you may think."
He smiles shyly. "Well, I mean. . . I've never seen you so motivated. When you started running toward me, it was kind of intimidating. And I never would have thought you'd be strong enough to move me that much." He grins and punches me in the arm.
I rub at my arm. "Remind me to teach you how to hit like a girl. My arms are all bruised from your little 'love taps'."
He blushes slightly. "Sorry, baby."
I shiver. "Oh please, no pet names."
"Can I still call you Marky?"
I roll my eyes. "I wish I could threaten you believably."
"Say you'll leave me." He smiles.
"Fine. I'll leave you if you call me Marky again."
He puts his hands up in mock defeat. "Alright, fine. It's Mark. Only Mark."
I punch him in the arm with all my strength. He doesn't even flinch and he barely moves. He laughs and I fume, I can't do anything else.
He kisses me lightly and takes my hand. "You're adorable when you're angry." He whispers to me as we walk. I know I'm blushing.
"Faggots!"
I cringe and pull away from Roger. He reaches for my arm.
"Mark? Mark what's wrong?"
I move so he's between me and the direction the voice came from. "Didn't you hear it?"
"Hear what?"
"Hey! Get a room you fucking queers!"
Roger narrows his eyes at the offenders, who I see are two guys around our age. He starts to move toward them. I grab his arm.
"Rog, let's just go back to the room. Please?" I beg him. I don't want to deal with this.
He tries to shake me off and takes another step but I grab him again, with a firmer grip. "Roger, no. Come on, I don't want to do this."
He stops and looks down at me questioningly. I shake my head and he gives up and follows me down the street. I can still hear them behind us, and I shiver. Once we're inside the room again Roger pulls me into his arms.
"Mark, I'm sorry that you're offended by people like that. I'm sorry they bother you, but it's something you have to deal with. You can't hide behind me forever."
"Why don't they bother you?"
"They do, but not in the same way. You're scared of them, you care what they think. I just think they're idiots and would like a chance at putting them in their place." He rests his chin on top of my head and I close my eyes. He rubs his hands over my back gently. Already I feel better. God, I love him.
I open my eyes. Wait, what?
+++
Notes Continued: Yes I know I'm pathetic and it's such a clique to end a chapter on that note. I'm so lame. Please review and tell me how much of a loser I am, and in return I'll actually update when I say I will. Deal? Haha... anyone else picking up the 'I'm emotionally and physically exhausted and hate everything but RENT' vibes? They're practically causing an earthquake over here.