Disclaimer: I still don't own it. I know, I know, you all thought that today was the day that you would find out that I had bought the rights but…no.

Author's notes: This chapter took me forever, for some reason writer's block chose to strike me for an entire week, and it is a rather plotless chapter just to make some time go by and resolve the kiss and relationship between Mark and Roger. However I'm back, and it's winter break so that means a lot more updates.

Thank you for the reviews and all of the constructive criticism.

Italics are flashbacks.

"Should I even bother asking what's going on?"

Roger and Mark jerked apart abruptly, sliding apart to nearly opposite sides of the bathroom. Roger ran a hand through his hair, glancing around nervously, and Mark was blushing furiously. "We were just…uh…" Roger sputtered a little, looking a his long time friend that was standing in the doorframe.

"You were kissing." Collins filled in with a little grin on his face. "I caught that part."

"Mark got some scratches on his cheek." Roger informed, as though this explained everything. "And we wanted to bandage it so…"

"So I wouldn't get an infection." Mark inserted, starting to get over the embarrassment. "We didn't want for me to get an infection."

Collins nodded, and then looked back and forth between the two for a moment. "And Roger putting his tongue down your throat…that's the latest in antibiotic medicine isn't it?" He teased. When he got no response he just continued. "Roger, you know the other day I got this paper cut and…"

"Screw off." Roger started to remove his rubber gloves, even though a smile was starting to appear on his face.

"Hey it's cool." Collins shrugged, standing up straight. "I'll just let you two finish with your breakthrough medical research."

They hadn't gone back to their "medical research." That night at least. Neither one would mention the kiss again. It had just…happened, and there didn't seem to be a need to talk about it. Things happened all the time. They didn't discuss every aspect of those things, so there wasn't a need to talk about this.

It just wasn't long before other little things just started happening.

Mark walked into the loft after working the afternoon shift at the theater. He hadn't actually done anything, because only two people showed up to see the film in the first place. All he had to do was start it. There were no bothersome tasks of checking tickets and whatnot. He had put the movie on, and then he had taken out his book and read it.

Now he was planning on doing the same thing. Sitting on the couch and reading, probably with a blanket, and a mug of tea. The first thing he saw was a blanketed lump on the couch. A head was poking out of the top and leaning back on top. There was a light snoring sound. Mark's footsteps automatically grew lighter at the first sight of his roommate sleeping on the couch.

He could see Musetta curled on Roger's lap as he got into the loft further, closing the door quietly, putting his camera on one of the stray crates, taking his book out of his coat, but leaving his coat on. Trying just one light switch told him that the power was out, and with that went the heat. So much for his tea. There was plenty of light in the apartment now, but Mark knew soon enough that it would be dimming. A glance told him that all the candles were placed around the apartment. He was about to go get their packet of matches when his floor hit a squeaky floorboard and a loud creak echoed in the apartment.

Roger's snoring stopped abruptly. "Mark is that you?" His voice was quiet, and horse; the words slurred together due to the fact that he was barely awake. He brought his head up so that he was sitting up straight.

"Yeah." Mark walked over stopping in front of the couch. "Sorry I woke you up." He apologized. He bent over, scratching Musetta's ears; in response she rolled over and started to purr for him.

"No man it's fine." Roger brought one hand out from under his faded quilt, rubbing his face a little. "What time is it?"

He glanced down a his watch. "Four thirty."

"You back from work?" Roger's hand went back underneath the blanket, probably where it was at least a few degrees warmer.

"Yeah." Mark stopped petting Musetta, standing up straighter.

Roger didn't say anything for a moment. "Well get a blanket before you do anything. It's freezing in here." This was the type of thing Roger had taken to saying. It was very Mark of him, but saying things like that just made him feel better, like he was taking care of the filmmaker, even though he knew that he was doing it all on his own.

"I was planning on that. Reading and all." Mark held up the worn paperback in his hand as though that made it all very self explanatory.

"What are you reading?" Natural curiosity.

"Tom Sawyer." Mark flipped the book over glancing at the cover where the image was nearly gone, with numerous creases in the middle. He'd probably read it about a dozen times, it was one of his favorites when he was in school, the entire concept just appealed to him. "Have you read it?"

"I've always meant to." Roger shrugged. "Never got around to it."

Mark handed him the book. "Here. I'll go get something else."

"No." Roger shook his head. "Read it with me."

"What?" Mark nearly laughed at the request. It was kind of ridiculous, and Roger wasn't really the type of person to request something like that.

"You heard me." Roger gave him a look. "I'm tired. There's no way I'll focus reading on my own. Come sit here and read with me." He lifted up one corner of the blanket, inviting his friend to sit next to him.

Mark barely thought about it before sitting down and tucking the blanket around himself as well before opening up the book to the introduction. "Most of the adventures in this book really occurred;" He paused his reading briefly as he felt Roger shift closer so they were nearly snuggled together. Body heat started to be shared. "One or two of the experiences were my own, the rest of boys who were schoolmates of mine. Huck Finn is drawn from life; Tom Sawyer also…"

Mark continued reading for about an hour, until he realized that Roger had fallen asleep again. He placed his bookmark in their stopping spot and tossed the book onto the crate that was in front of him. He let out a sigh he didn't realize that he needed to, then glanced over to his roommate, who had a content look on his face. It hit him that this was the first time that he had been really truly comfortable about such close contact with someone since his stepfather. Leaning in he placed a gently kiss on Roger's temple because it felt right, and then put his head on his friend's shoulder, closing his eyes to go to sleep for the night.

This sort of behavior continued. The roommates grew closer, continuing to hang out, sitting next to each other, sharing a blanket, or just holding hands. They didn't talk about it; they just allowed it to happen. Once in a while there was a stolen kiss, but not often. It was a month before anyone but Collins knew.

"So how long have you two been fucking?"

Mark's cheeks went bright red as the comment was made. It was such a Maureen thing that she had said as she entered the loft, coming upon Mark watching some footage that he had just filmed two days ago of him and Roger playing with Musetta. It wasn't like the footage was much more than two friends having fun, but if you paid attention, you could see the extra bit of light in their eyes when they looked at each other…the way their hands would linger a little when they touched.

"We well…" Mark didn't answer right away. The question flustered him. It was hard to define a relationship to someone when you hadn't even defined it with the person you were having it with. "We uh…"

"Gosh Marky, just answer the question." Maureen giggled, tossing her purse onto the floor. "It's not like I'm gonna care. Practically everyone we know is gay."

Mark ran a hand through his hair, like he often saw Roger do. It had very little effect with him, and he just blushed more. "It's not like that exactly…it's just that we…"

She rolled her eyes. "Gosh. I just want to know how long my ex has been sleeping with his roommate. You'd think I could get a straight answer." She giggled again. "No pun intended."

"We're not sleeping together." A new, much more collected voice spoke. Roger came out of his room, holding his guitar. "We're just…" He sighed, thinking of the right words. "We've gotten a lot closer lately."

And it was good. They started going out a lot more with the group, still together, still getting closer. Mark and Roger would take their meds together, do just about everything together. Life was really going well.

Until one afternoon in the summer they got home from a day in Central Park.

"Speak!"

"Mark, Mark it's Cindy!" The female voice on the answering machine was upset, and urgent. She sounded as though she had been crying. "You have to come back to Scarsdale. There's been an accident. Mom and Richard are in a lot of trouble. The doctor's said that they might not make it. "Mark, pick up the god damn phone!"

There's that. Just to put everything in time perspective, the summer day was in July, meaning that it has been roughly seven months since the Christmas Eve where the story started.