Title: Inspiration

Pairing: Mark/Roger

Rating: PG-13 for kissys and allusion to sex.

Summary: Roger loses his inspiration. Can his best friend help him relight the fire?

Disclaimer: I don't owe Mark or Roger…stop rubbing it in. The song, "Rhyme and Reason" is owned by Adam Pascal, who is owned by his wife…lucky bitch.

"Marky?"

Mark looked sleepily towards the soft sound and saw a vaguely Roger-like shape framed in the light of the doorway. "Roger? What's wrong?" He turned and searched for his glasses on the bedside dresser, slightly nervous because Roger rarely ever used Mark's nickname.

Roger's soft footfalls moved toward the bed and he sat heavily upon it, right next to Mark's hip. "I-I-I…think I've lost it," he said in a voice thick with emotion.

Mark resisted the urge to wrap his arms around his roommate, "Lost what? Are you okay, Rog?"

Roger pulled his knees up and wrapped his strong arms around them, "My ability to write."

Mark put his hand on Roger's shoulder, "I'm sure you haven't lost it. You're just in a rut. You need to find some new inspiration and you'll-"

"I have inspiration. I have the song about love from the soul of a young man, but I can't write it. It…scares me," Roger dropped his head down.

Mark felt Roger's shoulders shaking and knew his best friend was crying, "What is it? What's wrong? How can that kind of inspiration be scary?"

Roger lifted his head and his voice was unsteady as he said, "It's you."

"Me?"

"The inspiration…it's you. God dammit, it's always be you."

"What do you mean?"

Roger's next words were so soft that if Mark hadn't had been as close as he was, he would have missed them, "I'm in love with you."

Mark shook his head as if that could clear his mind, then he looked at the man he'd lived with for the past five years. He reached out a trembling hand and traced the wet trail of an earlier tear down Roger's face. He took a deep breath and leaned forward, tenderly pressing his lips to Roger's.

When the kiss ended and the two men pulled away, neither spoke, but both waited with bated breath.

Mark's body seemed to move of its own accord and he wrapped his arms around Roger as their mouths fused together again. They shifted and modified their position until their bodies were pressed together and Mark was on top of Roger, kissing the man beneath him with so much fervor he felt like he was pouring his essence into Roger's hot, eager mouth.

"I love you, Roger. Oh god, I love you Roger," Mark gasped as his love's hands roamed his body, tracing his sides and moving surely over his back and chest.

"Mark, I want you. Please, make love to me. I've wanted this for so long," Roger implored.

Mark looked into the eyes of the man he loved and nodded, kissing him with an unequaled passion.

The next morning, when Mark woke up, the bed was empty. Distraught, he pulled his forsaken boxers back on and plodded into the main room of the loft, where Roger was sitting at the table, writing in his old notebook.

Roger looked up and smiled, jumping up from his seat and gathering Mark into his arms, kissing him fervently.

When they pulled apart, Mark smiled, "What's new, Roger?"

Roger threw his head back and laughed, a real laugh that he hadn't used in a while. "Inspiration, Marky. Nothing but inspiration."

"Write something?" Mark asked.

"Yes. Wanna hear?" Roger grinned, picking up his guitar.

Mark nodded and sat on the couch, scooting over to make room for Roger.

"It's called 'Rhyme and Reason'." The musician sat cross-legged and started to play his new song.

It's so cold, let's take flight
Well, we won't need a net, hold on tight
A new ride is unveiled, and we don't need to try
So there's no way to fail
A desperate look in our eyes, holding on to one another
Holding on for all our lives, just letting go to discover
It's okay to realize
Being born into nothing and no one and nowhere, it's all a surprise
The desperate look in our eyes, holding on to one another
Holding on for all our lives, just letting go to discover
That love don't need a reason
And love don't need a rhyme
I'm standing here pleading
And you just cover your eyes

Roger finished his song and look to Mark for a reaction. "So, what do you think of it?"

Mark leaned over the guitar and kissed Roger gently, "It's wonderful, baby."

"So are you," Roger said, running a hand through Mark's messy, gravity defying hair. (AN: Elphaba and Marky 4ever I hate all desperatefans 'growls')

Mark blushed and stood up, taking Roger's hand and leading him back to the bedroom. And there they stayed for a good long time.