A/N: I've decided that this will not be slash. If you want it to be M/R, I guess you can just pretend it is, but that's not my intent in writing it. Many, many thanks to Zi-buggy: the world's best proof-reader, who gave me "let out a barking laugh". I love you! You are my spine, and I hereby alternately title this chapter "Checkmate" in honor of you. All this fluffiness between Mark and Roger serves a purpose, by the way. It's not fluff for the sake of fluff. And… the end of this chapter is scarily similar to the end of "Cheaper than Cheap Colored Lights," or whatever I named the Christmas one. Because, um, I'm unoriginal. Enjoy.
Once the performance, which was just as bad as Mark had expected, was over, Roger helped Mark put away the equipment for the night, and together they began to walk towards the apartment. For a while, neither could think of anything to say. Finally, Roger felt a need to break the silence.
"I left my stuff at Dave's," he explained, rather unnecessarily.
"Alright. We can go get it in the morning. I mean, we can go now if you really want to, but it is sort of late."
"No, tomorrow's fine," Roger added, chuckling. "So… tell me about your roommates. Are you sure they won't mind my invasion?"
"Oh, don't worry, you'll get along great. Benny was my roommate at Brown. We became best friends pretty quick. Our senior year we signed up for a philosophy class together. One day, our professor invited a friend of his who was working on his graduate in philosophy to come give a lecture. Enter Collins. The lecture was awesome. All this technology versus humanity stuff. Benny was completely enthralled. So anyway, we stayed after and talked to the guy a while, and ended up taking him out to lunch. He was—still is—this really amazing person. He started telling us all these wild stories, like how he ran naked through Parthenon."
Roger let out a barking laugh.
"You're kidding."
"It's true!" Mark insisted. "So he went back to NYU, but we kept in touch. He and Benny really hit it off— you should see the postcards they sent each other. Every once in a while we'd all get together for dinner or something. When we graduated, Benny and I both wanted to move to New York. Collins insisted that we share his apartment, and we didn't need much persuasion. Trust me, those two are among the smartest, kindest, and coolest people you'll ever meet."
"Hey, if they're half as great as you say they are, I'm sure they're awesome."
"They are. It's this street," Mark added, turning right, and starting some form of conversation.
Roger looked around him while Mark talked. It wasn't a great neighborhood. To walk through it at 11:30, as they were then, was bad enough, but Roger knew that the other performances at the Barracuda got out much later, usually. He glanced at Mark, who was chatting away with an air of shyness, and something like innocence. Roger wasn't too worried about walking that way himself, but he knew that for someone as small and skinny and obviously nerdy as Mark to be walking alone in that part of town every night at 2 AM was ridiculously dangerous. It was like wearing a "Mug me!" sign.
"Do you walk home every night?" Roger asked suddenly.
"Why wouldn't I?" responded Mark. He was a bit surprised, partly by the nature of the question, and partly because Roger had cut him off in mid-sentence to ask it. "I mean, it's only a few blocks."
"By yourself?"
Mark laughed.
"Now I know you'll fit in. You already sound just like Benny and Collins. I wish I had five bucks for every time one of them lectured me on the dangers of little Jewish boys wandering in rough neighborhoods."
"How does being Jewish affect safety?"
"As far as I know, it doesn't. I think they just like the way 'little Jewish boy' sounds. Maybe it adds to the victim image or something."
"Have you ever been mugged out here?"
"No. Well, maybe once."
Roger's eyes widened suspiciously. He was about to inquire how some can "maybe" be mugged, when Mark quickly began to explain.
"Look, it wasn't a big deal. This guy came up to me – he was obviously a junkie, and he looked pretty desperate – and demanded that I give him money. I did. All I had on me was five dollars. He punched me in the face. I had a black eye for a week. I wouldn't have minded so much if he hadn't broken my glasses. That was kind of annoying. Anyways, he hit me a few times, grabbed my wallet, realized that it really was empty, and took off. It wasn't really serious."
Roger thought that he and Mark must have very different definitions of "serious".
"I remember that! You told everyone at the Barracuda that you'd accidentally walked into a wall."
"Yeah, that's what I told Benny and Collins, too."
The memory did not seem to bother Mark nearly as much as it did Roger.
"Why didn't you just tell the truth?"
Mark shrugged.
"I didn't want them to freak out."
"Mark… you're living dangerously, buddy."
"It's not that bad. Why? Are you afraid you'll get mugged?"
"No, but the only reason I'm not afraid is because I'm a big strong tough guy. But you—"
"Are walking with a big strong tough guy. Why should I worry? Besides, I like the walk."
Roger couldn't help but laugh softly, but was unmoved from his original concern. He didn't know why he cared, but it bothered him that this naïve young man beside him put himself in danger every night because he liked to walk. Roger suddenly felt a brotherly urge to protect Mark.
"Well, here we are!"
Mark stopped suddenly in front of an old building that looked about as run-down as a dwelling can get without becoming condemned. He glanced nervously between the building at the man standing beside him.
"Home, sweet home. It's not much. Pretty bad, actually, I guess. Look, I'll understand if you decide to find some place else—"
"Mark! Calm down! God, you are the least confident person I've ever met. How the hell do you get dates?"
"I don't," Mark replied with a sheepish tone and an apologetic grin.
Roger laughed.
"I'll have to fix that for you. What floor are you – we – on?"
"The very top. No elevator, sorry."
"No problem," Roger responded with a shrug as he followed Mark.
When they reached the top floor, Mark unlocked a door and stepped inside, Roger following along behind him. Two men were sitting inside, engaged in what appeared to be a very serious game of chess. They did not seem to notice the newcomers.
"Checkmate."
"You mean 'check'."
"No, checkmate."
"If it was checkmate, I wouldn't be able to get out of it."
"You can't get out of it."
The man in check made a move.
"I just did."
"You can't do that."
"I can. It's in the rules."
"You made that up."
The man who had just escaped death by rook laughed.
"Benny, I don't need to make up rules to beat you in chess."
"Ha ha. You haven't won this round yet, Collins."
Mark cleared his throat. Benny and Collins looked up in surprise.
"Hey, Mark. You're home earlier than usual. Who's your friend?"
"He followed me home," Mark responded dryly. "Can we keep him?"
"That depends. Is he house-broken?"
"Geez Mark, I thought that Collins was the one who brought guys home," Benny teased.
"Ha. Oh Rog, that reminds me. I forgot to tell you: Collins is gay. I didn't think you'd mind. Anyways, this is Roger Davis. Roger, this is Tom Collins and Benjamin Coffin the third."
"Just call me Collins."
"And if I hear you addressing me with more than two syllables, you're going down. I'm just Benny."
"So, Roger's band plays at the Barracuda, which is how I know him. He kinda just got kicked out of his house, so I told him he could stay with us. Is that okay?"
"No!" shouted Benny harshly, before laughing and giving both Mark and Roger a manly whack on the back that was apparently the equivalent of a hug. "Of course it's okay! It's nice to meet you, Roger."
"The more the merrier!" agreed Collins with a welcoming grin.
"Hey, we need to figure out what the bed situation's going to be," said Benny, suddenly practical. "We'll have to add one to your room, Mark. There's hardly room for a sleeping bag in with Collins and me."
"Yeah, I figured that. You can take my bed tonight, Roger. I'll sleep on the couch. Tomorrow we'll look for a mattress or something."
"I'll take the couch," volunteered Roger. "You're already letting me barge in on your apartment. You don't have to sacrifice your bed, too."
"No, I insist," Mark responded stubbornly. He flopped himself down on the couch, as if to settle the case.
Roger rolled his eyes and gave his friend a half-grin.
"Oh, alright, I guess there's no arguing with you."
Collins glanced at his watch.
"Sorry we can't have some sort of group-bonding experience tonight, guys, but if I'm going to teach a class at eight thirty tomorrow morning, I should probably go to bed. Night, everyone. Just leave the chess board out, Benny, we'll finish tomorrow. Welcome to the loft, Roger." He gave their roommate a big bear hug and walked into another room.
"I might as well turn in, too," said Benny. "Great to meet you, Roger. We'll have to all get lunch tomorrow, or something." He followed Collins into the other room.
Roger turned to face Mark. "Well, since everyone else is going to bed… Hey, where is your room?"
Mark laughed and pointed to a door. "I guess that would be a useful piece of information, huh? It's right there. And the one in between the two bedrooms is the bathroom."
"Thanks." Roger walked towards Mark's room, then stopped, and turned around. "Seriously, Mark. Thanks, for all of this. Not many people would invite someone they hardly know into their house so readily. I really appreciate it."
"I don't hardly know you, Rog. I've seen you once a week for months now. Besides, you're welcome here. It's no trouble."
"Thanks." Roger was silent for a while. He began to walk back towards Mark's room.
"Roger?"
He turned.
"Yeah?"
"Good night."
"Good night, Mark."