A/N: My 2nd RENTfic. Very exciting. Not really slash. Just friendly drabble. I liked the way it turned out...it ended in a COMPLETELY different way than I envisioned.
Disclaimer: Forgot to put one of these bad boys on the last one. I don't own RENT, or Mark, or Roger (sighs unhappily). They belong to Jonathan Larson. Not to mention the 'poems' don't belong to me either. They belong to Adam Pascal.
Mark wandered around the loft, almost bored to tears. Roger had gone out with Mimi a few minutes prior, probably to the Life Café or something of that sort. Mark considered going with them, to film, but whenever he went out with the young couple, it usually ended in Roger and Mimi making out and Mark left to think alone.
He thought he'd have more fun at the loft.
He thought wrong.
"OW!" Mark exclaimed, looking down to find a red, velvet covered notebook.
'Damn Roger, leaving his crap around.' But thinking better of it, Mark realized that this was his chance to find something to do.
He opened the hard cover and laughed as he saw doodles of Mimi or Collins or Maureen doing her performance pieces. To be honest, Roger wasn't that bad of an artist.
He flipped the page and saw what looked like the beginning of a poem.
'Angel wandered too far from grace
but saved the sinners in song.'
Mark read it aloud a few times. Roger had this ability to write these lyrics that just made Mark question the man in general.
How could Roger be so deep in writing yet so immature in person?
He turned the page to find another beginning of a poem.
'Every time around you don't make a sound
Every time around is a chance to love her
Dreaming far away, every time around
See, it's only love, God, it's only love'
Mark smiled. Roger always tried to convince Mark that he didn't believe in a God or a higher power. After all Roger's been through, why should he?
Either Roger was using the Lord's name to be poetic or he's been lying through his teeth.
The next few pages contained more doodles: One of Collins and Angel, one of Mimi in some sort of sexy pose, one of Mark sleeping...
Mark stopped abruptly and wondered when Roger had actually been up before him...and why he chose to draw him, for that matter.
He shrugged it off and turned the page. On said page, it appeared to be some sort of journal entry.
'Mimi said to me that she wants to have a kid. With me. Because after one of us goes, the other one will have a living reminder of the other person.'
"...what?" Mark inhaled sharply. Roger never mentioned this.
'But I told her no. That would be like a 90 year old woman getting a cat for the first time. Eventually that 90 year old woman is going to die...soon, for that matter...and then where will the cat be?
'Alone. Mark's kind of like a cat in a way.'
Mark's head fell slightly to the side at the mention of his name.
'Mark's my cat. I mean, let's face it, how much longer will I be around? Once I'm gone, Mark will be alone. I think about it every fucking day I'm alive. It's incentive for me to keep living, because I, of all people, know that Mark's never had much luck with women. And most of his friends are in the same boat as me.
'In a way, I guess it isn't Mimi I live for. It's Mark. He needs me more.'
Mark sighed heavily and turned the page, finding that Roger hadn't written anything since that entry.
Hearing footsteps, he quickly shoved the book under their couch and ran to the 'kitchen', putting a tea kettle on the oven.
Roger entered the loft, rubbing his hands together. "It's freezing outside! How have you been? Did you do anything entertaining?"
"Not really. I was bored as hell." Mark smiled.
What he doesn't know can't hurt him.
"Take your AZT."
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