Title: No One Knows ch 1
Author: Libby AKA phoenixprincess
Feedback: would be nice, real nice!
Pairing: Mark/Maureen, Mark/Roger.
Word Count: 1013
Rating: R,
Genre: Romance, Angst
Summary: about the thinness of walls, the kinkiness of Mark, and the need of Roger.
Notes: 'tis my first rent fic, please be gentle with me. It's written almost like a bunch of little stories mashed together all about the same thing mainly. Rogers POV
Warnings: mentions of masturbation and overheard sex. swearing
Disclaimer: Do not own rent or any of it's characters, I just like to play with them.
The moaning every night kept him awake. Moan. Giggle. Moan. Mark, Mark, Mark. Oh God Mark! Every night! Either Maureen was very vocal or Mark was very good. But Roger tried not to think about that. Tried not to think about the tightness in his pants when he heard Mark moan on the odd occasion. Tried not to think about what Mark was doing in the room next to his, tried not to think about what he wanted Mark to do in his room.
The first time he ever thought about Mark that way was about a year ago. It was before Maureen, but just after April, AIDS, and withdrawal. Roger didn't give Mark much time to himself in those days, in fear that Mark would leave him out of fear, or disgust that he had to room with a junkie…former junkie…who is going to die. So when Mark was in the shower for longer then usual Roger got scared. He flung open the door and shower curtain so fast that Mark hadn't even had time to register. There was Mark, in all his glory, holding himself up against the wall with his left and pumping furiously with his left. He was so close that when he noticed Roger there staring, he just let go with a loud groan that woke Roger from daze. He muttered sorry a few times and ran out the room. They never talked about it. But for weeks after Roger found himself in the shower in the exact same position he saw Mark with the image of his best friend and roommate in his head.
He soon learned that Mark was a kink. More so than anyone he knew. The day he met Maureen he took her to bed. It was about 12 am and Roger was seated on the couch attempting to write, when they walked in, Mark's eyes on fire and Maureen with a look somewhat like pity. Mark winked at Roger and pulled her into his room. Roger was stunned, this had never happened before. But just shrugged it off and went back to writing.
"OH GOD, HOLY SHIT!" Roger had dozed off on the couch but was awoken with a scream. He recognized it as a woman and thought of the woman Mark brought home. He looked at the clock on the wall, 2:30, goddamn, he thought, they're still at it? He listened harder, moans, not Marks however, came frequently, lots of swearing and screaming. Soon, he heard the tell-tale groan that signaled Mark's release, although he didn't want to have to think about how he knew that, and giggling.
Roger had once again fallen asleep on the couch. This time he was woken by footsteps. He opened his eyes and saw the girl that followed Mark home yesterday. Her hair was disheveled, make-up trashed, she was wincing as she walked and her wrists were raw. The only way he could describe her was thoroughly fucked.
"Have fun?" The chick jumped about a foot and spun wincing. Roger just started laughing as the chick glared at him.
"And you are?" she asked. Her hands were on her hips and she was acting as if she lived here and he was an intruder. At that instant he knew that he hated this chick, and always would.
"Roger, the roommate. And you?" The chick winced again but this time it had nothing to do with pain. Roger nearly smiled. She knew the rules then. Don't fuck with the roommate on the first date, you will not get a second one. Roger lost a lot of girlfriends that way when they made fun of Mark or just ignored him completely.
"My name's Maureen, listen I'm sorry I was bitchy, just long night you know." Roger nodded smirking and just them Mark groaned softly in his bedroom. Maureen's face paled.
"trust me, the walls are paper thin. I know more then you think." Maureen blushed and they both started laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Alright, so maybe she was cool.
Roger never asked Maureen or Mark about her wrists. He didn't really want to know. But god could he imagine. Maureen's wrists tied to a headboard with loose pieces of cloth. Except they didn't have a headboard, or cloth. His favorite fantasy came during one of their longest sessions. He couldn't help himself. As he lay in his bed hearing Mark moaning primarily (which was rare) he had a bright image of mark on his knees, arms tied behind his back the that damn scarf he always wore. Looking at Roger, begging, pleading, to let him touch roger, hold roger, fuck roger. Just then he heard Mark moan loud and long "oh, fuck". roger came that instant.
When Maureen broke up with Mark for another woman, Roger thought that Mark almost seemed relieved. When he asked Mark about this, he just shrugged his shoulders and walked away. Roger had to know, so he got a plan together. Mark was a open drunk. Any question asked he would answer. So Roger got all his money together and got Mark trashed.
"She was getting boring." Mark wined by the time he got to his 5th shot. "never anymore fun. I thought she would be different ya know? Go along with my games always but nooo."
Roger shook his head, Mark really wasn't making any sense. "What games Marky?"
Mark just stood, smirked and walked into his room.
After Angel, Mimi, Santa Fe, after everything they were once again alone. Just him and Mark. It's been nearly two years since he thought of Marks games, Maureen's wrists and Marks scarf. And yet, the thoughts about Mark and himself did not go away completely. Even while he was with Mimi in the most intimate ways he thought of Mark alone in the loft. Mark working too hard on his film.
It took 4 years from the first time he saw him in the shower for Roger to admit it to himself. He wanted Mark. He needed Mark, he LOVED Mark.