Another long-overdue chapter, but... :points to evil classes: They're eating my soul. Pity me? Good. I knew you'd understand. Just be grateful I wrote this instead of my essay comparing "Twelfth Night" to "The Way of the World."

And enjoy, children!

:one month later:

"He wants you."

Mark swallowed hard, eyes snapping open. She can't mean what I think she means. He heard Roger turn over and ask in a slurred voice, "Who, Benny?"

The bed in the next room squeaked as if someone were sitting up - April, Mark guessed. From his position in his own room, there was no way he could see what was happening, but the paper-thin walls along with the hole he had discovered in the wall behind Collins' dresser provided acoustics as clear as if they were in the same room. He didn't want to eavesdrop, but it seemed now that the conversation taking place very much concerned him.

"Not Benny, you dumbfuck." April giggled. "Mark. He practically drools on you."

Roger snorted. "Everyone wants me. I'm a fucking rock star, remember?"

"You're also fucking arrogant. But what are you gonna do about it?"

"Do? What the fuck are you talking about?" Roger sounded annoyed, and somewhat bored, Mark observed. At least, he thought, that was an improvement over freaked-out, or disgusted.

"About Mark, you idiot." April sounded equally annoyed. "He wants you!"

Roger groaned. "It's Maaark. He's not like that, April. You just don't get him. You never gave him a fucking chance."

"Me? What the fuck are you talking about? I've been totally nice to him. Pass me the joint."

"But you're such a bitch. Why are you being like this? He didn't do anything to you. Except fuck you, so I should be the jealous one." Roger's tone was still bored, as if what she was saying couldn't matter less to him.

April grumbled, "So fucking what? You've fucked half the girls in the city, from what it looks like at the clubs. They're all over you. Like your roommate."

There was the sound of the bed squeaking, then footsteps as Roger got up and started walking around the room. "What the fuck is your problem with him? He's not doing anything to you, OR me. And just because he's not a fucking jock doesn't mean he's a fag, you know. He fucked you, didn't he?"

Mark was glad they couldn't see him through the walls, the way his cheeks were flushing. He was sure he was almost purple with shame by this point. It was bad enough that April had figured out his secret, but that Roger was defending his masculinity...

April mumbled something incoherent, but Mark could guess that it probably wasn't complimentary to his skills in bed from Roger's chuckle. He couldn't figure out what happened, but the footsteps stopped, and the bed creaked again. The next thing he heard was April squeak and Roger laugh, then say, "Aww, you're jealous. What's wrong, baby, you think little Marky's gonna rape me in my sleep?"

April shrieked, and there was a renewed flurry of springs squeaking. "Roger, get the fuck off me!"

How the fuck did Collins ever get any sleep in here? Oh...that's probably why he was never here. Goddamn thin walls...goddamn cheap loft...goddamn Roger, goddamn April, goddamn me! Mark pulled his pillow over his head in a fit of self-loathing as the noises in the other room turned decidedly more amorous.

April rolled her eyes as she took a long drag on the last remaining bit of her joint, holding the smoke inside her lungs just for a moment before blowing it out in a sigh. "I'm telling you, Mo, it's driving me nuts."

Maureen shifted so she was lying with her head in April's lap. "So why don't you do something about it? It's not like you have to put up with it, you know. Just say something to him." She took a hit on her own joint, then exhaled up at the ceiling.

"Like what?" April brushed Maureen's hair out of her eyes. She looked around the dingy room, a little disgusted. "This place is a shithole, you know." The tiny apartment was barely furnished, but the decorative fabrics and posters did nothing to cover up the mouseholes, cracks in the plaster, and odd discolored patches that graced the ceiling. There was barely room for anything except the mattress on the floor and the full-length mirror propped up against one wall, with clothes spilling out of the closet across nearly the entire floor.

Maureen groaned, then sat up on the mattress. "Not only is it a shithole, I'm losing my lease."

"Losing your lease? I thought you were fucking the landlord."

Maureen pouted at her. "His wife caught us."

"Aww, that blows. But back to my problems!"

Maureen rolled her eyes. "Right, right, the pathetic little lovesick roommate." She put her hands on April's shoulders, pulling her close. "You just say to him, 'Look. I know you're in love, but you have to get over it, because I'm with Roger. And no matter what you do, you're never, never going to have me." She kissed April softly on the lips, then pulled away. "That'll do the trick. If it doesn't, call me over, and I'll set him straight."

Yeah, but I'm not the one he's in love with. It's just easier to explain it that way. It might have been the pot, but a light flicked on in April's mind. "Set him straight? Hmm..." A slow grin made its way onto her face, and Maureen frowned suspiciously. "What are you thinking? You look like the wicked witch of the west on a really wicked day." She giggled. "Or I've smoked way too much of this shit."

April's face lit up, and she pushed Maureen back onto the bed, straddling her hips. "Hey, Mo?"

Maureen looked up at her, curious. "Hey, what?"

"Want a place to live?"

"Hey, Marky..." Mark looked up from the screenplay he was furiously scribbling away at to see Roger leaning on his doorframe, in just a pair of ripped jeans. "What do you want, Roger?" He tried not to blush.

Roger made his way slowly over to Mark's bed, crouching down on it and crawling over to his roommate. Mark tried to back away, catching a strange and unfamiliar look in Roger's eyes. "Roger...what are you on?"

Roger shrugged, grinning a little too wide, eyes dilated unnaturally. "Smack, pot, booze. Doesn't matter."

Mark swallowed. "That shit's going to kill you. Where's April?"

Roger grinned even wider, moving so he was hovering directly over Mark. "She said something about girl time with a friend. We're all...alone..." Without warning, he leaned down and pressed his lips firmly to Mark's.

Shock, lust, and a spark of hope warred for dominance in Mark's mind, and he unwittingly parted his lips for Roger's questing, hungry tongue. Oh God...this can't be wrong, it feels right...Roger's hands were everywhere, in his hair, on his neck, sliding down his chest, stroking his sides surely. He involuntarily arched up against Roger, surrendering every bit of himself to the lovely, hard body above him. It was only when Roger's hand moved to cup the bulge between his thighs that he was jolted out of the trance he had fallen into, and his eyes snapped open. "Roger," he tried to say, but Roger merely crushed his lips more tightly to his own, tongue plundering his mouth ruthlessly. Mark's body went rigid, and he pushed Roger away forcefully by his shoulders. Breathless from the kiss, he stared at Roger in shock. "What the hell are you doing?"

Roger just grinned that same vacant grin. "What, you don't like?" He eyed Mark's crotch pointedly. "It looks like you like." He smirked.

Mark blushed hotly, and pulled his legs up to rest his chin on his knees. "Roger, you're high."

Roger just laughed at him, a high-pitched sound that sounded completely unlike the Roger Mark first moved in with. "So fucking what? You're still hard. You still want me." He leaned forward again to claim his lips, but Mark evaded his embrace, getting off the bed hurriedly, back to the wall. "Get a hold of yourself! What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm trying to give you everything you want, Marky." Roger held his arms out to his sides, offering himself. "Don't you want me? It's not like I can't see you looking at me, you know. God, even April sees it."

Mark glared at him. "Everything I ever want? A pity fuck because you're too drunk and high to care isn't what I want, Roger. If that's what you think, you don't know anything about me." He muttered to himself, "Not that you ever did."

Roger rolled his eyes and got off the bed, walking over to Mark. "The fuck I don't, Mark." Mark tried to slip out of the room, but Roger pinned him to the wall, hands on both his shoulders. "I know you better than you ever know. I know you're scared shitless right now." He leaned forward and caught Mark in another bruising kiss, not allowing him to pull away. He eventually came up for air, and looked into Mark's eyes.

Mark desperately searched for any traces of his friend in this man's face, but all he could see were pupils that were too wide and a grin that was too large. This strange man leaned even closer, so their noses were nearly touching, and whispered in a breath that smelled of pot and beer, "How about it, Marky? I'll give you a fuck you'll never forget."

With great force of will, Mark pushed Roger away so hard he landed on the bed. In an anguished voice, he forced out, "That's NOT what I want! Get the fuck out of my room!"

Roger shrugged, got up off his bed, and walked out the door. As he passed Mark, he murmured, "My offer stands, when you change your mind."

As he walked out, leaving the door open behind him, Mark shouted, enraged and humiliated, "I thought you were straight!"

Roger's too-dreamy voice drifted back into the room, "I'm a fucking rock star!"

Mark collapsed back onto his bed, covering his eyes with his arm, and groaned. Why couldn't you have left me alone? It would have been so much easier if he could stop thinking about Roger's hot mouth on his, Roger's large, calloused hands on his chest, Roger's lean, toned body pressed close to his, pinning him against the bed. Mark shivered, still feeling those hands on his body. Without realizing it, his hands started running over his own body, tracing the path Roger's had followed. His breathing quickened as his thumbs brushed over his nipples, and he gasped as his hand wandered lower.

In the next room, Roger smirked to himself as he heard his name drifting through the thin walls, choked off by a hand over the mouth uttering it.

That's all for right now...another chapter soon, I promise! As long as I get plenty of reviews, that is...