At this last proclimation, Collins turns and slams out of the loft. Mark looks after him. "He doesn't understand," he says. "Actually, I would say he understands perfectly well, Marky. He knows what it's like to know you are dying every day. He knows about the way you look at people walking past you on the street hoping that none of them are carrying the cough that will kill you. He understands more than you know." I can't help but shout, hoping it will get through his thick skull that I am saving him from living hell.

"Oh. You don't understand either," he says, tears filling his eyes. "Roger, do you know what it's like knowing that the only person who has ever made you happy is on one long goodbye tour? That no matter how good you are to them, no matter how much you love them... that they ARE leaving you, every day?" I'm still angry with him. I shake my head, more in frustration than anything.

"What you don't get, Rog, is that I wake up every night terrified of when you will be gone." He starts to break down more then, and I stand up. I want to hold him, but I can't make myself walk. He walks to me, instead, and leans against my chest. "I can't be without you... I'd die anyway, if you were gone."

I put my arms around him. I've never had anyone say anything even remotely like this to me. I'm not even sure what to say. It's worse that it is coming from Mark, who's always seemed so solid and strong. He's showing me the weakest side of himself... and it is me. I am his weakness.

He looks up at me, seeming unsure of how to go on from here. Almost embarassed. Looking down at him, I see his fear and pain like a shroud around him. How can I have never noticed the anguish behind his eyes? Anguish and love.

I take him to bed.

It's scary to think of fucking him without protection. It's terrifying, in fact. But I will do it anyway, because I love him, and he swears this is what he wants.

We curl up in bed, naked, his back pressed tight against my chest. I hold him, my arms wrapped lazily around him. He plays with my hands, touching each of my fingertips to his lips. He bites gently on my thumb, and then harder. We both laugh. It is genuine laughter, and it breaks some of the awkwardness. Laying in bed together has become routine over the last few months, and this return to it has settled my mind. I kiss the back of his neck, gently and he moans way down deep in his throat.

There are sounds I actually work to get him to make, and that's one of them. I run my hand over his chest and down his flat stomach. I pinch his taut skin lightly and he makes a funny little sound like "Eep". I run my fingers along his hip bone, tickling, and down to his pubic hair. This elicits a slight chuckle and another moan. When I wrap my hand around his now swollen cock, I get the best sound. He gasps just a little and grinds his ass back against me.

Something about knowing he wants to share everything he can with me, even HIV, makes me want to be sweet and gentle with him. He moves enough to let my cock find its way to his ass and I move my hand from his penis to around his thin hip. I pull him back slowly until he is firmly against me. He sudders slightly and tightens around my cock.

I move myself back just a little, and slide back into him. I'm thrusting slowly. He reaches back to my hip and pulls me firmly forward. He moans again, and I wrap my hand back around his cock. My hand moves in the same rhythm as my thrusts. He arches himself backwards to meet me faster and harder. My balls tighten slightly and I see his jaw clench. He's not making a sound, trying to hold on.

I fuck him harder and faster. He's making a small whimpering sound that makes me insane. He starts to say my name in a whisper just before I cum, and as I do I feel his body shudder roughly and his dick spills hot cream over my hand. He presses his ass as hard as he can against me and we both moan.

We are quiet for a few minutes, just laying together. I kiss his shoulders and he turns his face toward me. I kiss his cheek and he smiles at me, as honest and open a smile as I have ever seen him smile. "I love you," he whispers and I feel a smile break out on my face. "I love you too, Marky."

------

We are curled up on the couch drinking tea and relishing the quiet when the real world decides to intrude on us again. The phone rings, and we both groan. "We screen," Mark says and I can't help myself. "Zoom in on the answering machine," I laugh, and he play hits me on the shoulder. "I haven't done that one in over a year, Roger!" he says and we both laugh.

The answering machine beeps and Maureen's voice comes through. "DAMMIT, guys," she shrills and we both jump slightly. "ANSWER the PHONE, DAMMIT! It's IMPORTANT!" Mark jumps for the phone and answers it. "Reen? What's wrong?" He listens for a minute and shakes his head at me. "I'll talk to her, Reenie. I promise." They talk another minute and then hang up.

"JoAnne, hmm?" I say. He nods at me and laughs. "She left yet again. Maureen is SURE that this time is for good." "Isn't EVERY time?" I ask and we both chuckle. The phone rings again, and Mark groans. "Dare I even guess who this is?" he asks and picks up the phone. "Hello JoAnne," he smiles and then hands the phone to me. "Your turn, Rog."

"I cannot BELIEVE HER!" she yelps when I say hello and I try not to laugh. "Jo? What's different this time?" I ask. "She's PREGNANT, THAT's what's different!" My eyes go wide and Mark mouths "what?" "Hang on, Jo," I say, and drop the phone on my lap and cover the mouthpiece. "Maureen... pregnant," is all I can choke out before he takes the phone out of my hand. "JoAnne? What is going on?" He listens silently, and coos at her a bit.

He stands up and goes to the window. He throws down the key and hangs up the phone. "She's a wreck," he says and I nod and put another pot of tea on. Joanne comes up the stairs and through the door. "Can you IMAGINE? She tried to tell me that she never SLEPT WITH HIM," she says as soon as she hits the front room, and I jump slightly. She rants while the tea is heating, she rants while she is drinking her tea, and through several more pots.

Maureen calls three times while she is still ranting. Each time, I take the phone to the other room and calm her down. The fourth time she calls she simply says, "Throw down the key, Roger." I panic and bit and try to decide what to do. Finally I think, "fuck it" and throw it down to her. She comes up the stairs and she and JoAnne start arguing. Mark and I go to the bedroom to give them space and curl up on the bed.

"Can you believe that?" he says and we both laugh. "Maureen... pregnant. Imagine how fucked up THAT kid's gonna be," I say and he tries not to laugh, but fails miserably. "That's not NICE, Roger," he says and smacks my butt. Then he lays his head on my chest.

It gets quiet in the loft, and Mark pops out of bed to see what's going on. "Oh my lord," he says and closes the door, "yet another scene wasted on the fags." I raise an eyebrow at him. "They are making out." "What a NOVEL idea," I say and pull him back onto the bed.