Disclaimer: It's Jonathan's. I'm just playing.

For a moment, Mark and Roger stood frozen, half-touching one another, caught with their buttons loosened before a very amused Thomas Collins.

"Oh my G-d." Roger blushed so fiercely he nearly caught fire. "I... should probably go... um... the cat and all..." he babbled, buttoning his shirt unevenly.

"And your parents. And don't forget school!" Collins rose and patted Roger on the back. "I'll show you out." The hand that had patted him restedover Roger's right shoulder blade and steadily pressured him towards the door.

Roger barely had a chance to say, "'Bye, Mark," and grab Mark's hand briefly before being shoved as politely as possible out of the loft. The feel of Mark's skin slipping against his tingled.

Collins closed the loft door behind them to allow some privacy. "Boy, what do you think you're doing?" he asked. "I like you, you're a good kid. You have a good head on your shoulders, so use it! I've never seen Mark as happy as he's been these past few weeks he's been with you, but you're playing a dangerous game. You may be able to fool him, but you can't fool me." Collins folded his arms over his chest. "You need to be honest," he told Roger.

"I am honest. I love Mark." Roger never questioned that. He simply knew it. He also knew how to deflect blame-- of course, Collins was a lot smarter than most people Roger was used to deflecting blame from. He tried not to grit his teeth. An acute consciousness of his arms swept through Roger. He tried to keep them loose, tried not to think about it.

"I'm sure what you feel for Mark is genuine. Roger, think about it. How would you prefer it? If you came clean or if he found out on his own?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Denial, yet another tactic to use when deflection fails. Roger refused to admit that he was starting to see Collins' perspective on this. If Mark found out-- no. Mark would never find out. If he found out, it would be over, so he would not, could not find out. Roger subtly sucked in a deep breath.

"Roger..." Collins sighed. "I'm not going to tell Mark anything. It's not my place to do so." Roger did not, and stubbornly would not, admit anything. Collins could only hope that Roger would be more cooperative when he realized that Collins himself was a friend. "However, I just want to warn you that you're going the right way to destroying what could be potentially the best thing that's ever happened to you. Mark really cares for you and I'll be damned if you hurt him." It's as much about him as it is about you. Realize that, Roger. "Be smart, and don't go taking extra steps with Mark if you're not completely in the clear. It's only going to count against you when he finds out."

Roger insisted, "There's nothing to find out. I don't know what you're talking about. Can I--"

"You're not 21," Collins interrupted.

"Not for another few months, no," Roger admitted. "I have to--" He moved to leave, but Collins stayed him with a firm grip on his shoulder.

"Not for another few years."

"This June. I'll be 21 this June." Dammit. Roger didn't know why his heart was pounding like this. As long as he showed no signs of fear, Collins has no evidence against him.

"Prove it. Let me see your school ID." Collins hated to do this to Roger, but he wanted Roger to realize what he was doing. Mark was not a toy.

"I don't have a school ID. I'm not in school, okay? I'm not proud of that, but..."

"Roger, I'm not playing around. Hand over any form of identification or I automatically assume you guilty. If you're really as old as you say you are, you shouldn't be hesitant in the slightest."

Roger sighed. "Look... I don't..." But he knew when he had lost. Roger dug out a school ID, handed it over and stared at the floor. There goes the only good time he's had since moving to the fucking city.

Reading the plastic identification card in his hand, Collins couldn't help but chuckle. "My guess was right on the money, wasn't it? 17..."

Roger nodded. "Yeah. Seventeen. You're a real fuckin' genius now can I have that back? I have a... fucking library fine." Collins snickered. "Yeah," Roger drawled angrily.

"Roger. I'm not going to tell Mark. I want you to tell him. You need to tell him before he finds out himself." Collins handed over the ID, feeling bad that he's doing this to Roger. He really did like him-- so did Mark. Both wanted to keep Roger around, each for their own reasons, and Collins had certainly not meant to isolate the boy, but he feared it was damage done.

"I can't do that. It doesn't matter, it's just superficiality and in a few months, I'm 18, I can cast it off, move out and decide for myself."

"Roger, can't you see the big picture?" Can't you shake off your teenage egotism? "When he finds out, he's going to know he was involved with a minor. He's going to know you lied to him. He's going to doubt you. It could destroy your whole relationship."

"He'll only find out if you tell him. And could you really do that? Make him hate himself, make him a criminal?" Roger knew he was being a real little bastard. He was hardly controlling himself, just acting.

"You're being selfish," Collins told him, surprised at the anger and coldness of his own voice. Roger truly disgusted him in that moment, in his inability to see beyond the lies he told himself to the man he-- Collins believed-- loved. "And a real fuck. His feelings in this matter are just as important as yours. He deserves to know the truth; deserves to love you for who you are, not who you're making yourself out to be." Collins didn't know how else to get through to Roger, so he just shook his head. "Just go home, Roger. Think about it. I won't tell Mark anything, you have my word."

"Look... ok, you're... you're gonna hate me for this, but I figure you already do." Roger swallowed a knot of nervous bile. "So I'm gonna ask. How did you know?"

Collins stared at Roger for a long second before responding, "I don't hate you. Now go home." And before Roger could say more, Collins went back into the loft, leaving Roger in the hall to do as he chose.

TO BE CONTINUED!

Reviews would be better than a naked Roger in my bed. Well, okay, not that good, but you know what I mean.