Disclaimer: They're not mine, I'm just playing with them.

Roger awoke before Mark. He had never before woken so close to someone, so warm and comfortable and completely naked. He was still pressed close against Mark's chest. Roger closed his eyes. His shoulders itched to stretch, but that meant leaving this moment, the warmth and closeness and the smell of Mark and sweat.

Mark mumbled and rolled away from Roger. That made the choice. Roger rose and dressed quietly. His shirt was thoroughly unwearable, defeated by a night of sodomy. It was stinking and stiff with sweat.

Roger tossed on his jeans and undershirt and wandered out.

Collins was already awake. "Um... hey," Roger mumbled. "Do you mind if I...?" and he pointed at the coffeepot.

"No, feel free." Collins was chewing over how to start the conversation this time. Nothing he said last time seemed to have impacted Roger's behavior at all. Collins sighed loudly and swirl the little bit of coffee left in his cup.

Now Roger knew how Mark felt when he was eating the cupcake. Collins watched him as he grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee. Roger was terrified of Collins. He just knew things, private, personal things he had no way to know and no right to know. And Roger was afraid Collins would see the cat scratches on his arms and think... know... There are things in the soul of any seventeen-year-old boy, things no one has any right to know.

I can't do this, I can't. He headed back to Mark's room, his heart pounding.

"Roger." He looked over, visibly trembling. Collins patted the chair next to his. "Take a seat."

Oh, no. Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no. Roger sat, trying to focus on breathing. He was so nervous he did not dare try to drink the coffee, breathe, try to relax. Not going so well! "Morning," he mumbled.

"Morning." Collins leaned forward and picked up a cupcake from a plate left on the table. "You make these?" At Roger's facial expression, he explained, "Mark doesn't really cook."

Roger nodded. Yes, I am a ten-year-old girl at heart. His cooking-pride won over, nerves eased enough for him to ask, "So, you like them? The cupcakes." Oh, G-d, I just used the word cupcake! I'm a ten-year-old. Hm. I'm calm enough to drink my coffee now. Aaah, coffee and cupcake. An unbeatable combination.

"They're very good." He took a bite out of the cupcake and used this time to think of a way to open the subject he wanted to discuss. Of course, Collins knew what he wanted to say and Roger knew what he wanted to say, so how difficult could it be? With any luck, he'll talk about it first… but that's highly unlikely.

Collins swallowed and took a sip of coffee to wash down the cupcake. It took a certain type of person to eat such pure sugar at his first hour of the day. "What do you think you're doing?" He started their last conversation like this, and he immediately felt that by starting the second talk like this, he had already sealed the ending to this as well, but at very least Roger knows what he's talking about.

"Eating breakfast?" There ware times when Roger could make himself look young enough to pull off the 'cheeky-but-adorable' thing. He didn't try that now, though, because it really wouldn't help any with Collins. But now he sounded like a surly teenager, so he continued, "You know, that's a neat word. Breakfast. Because it--"

"Roger." Roger fell silent. His eyes fell to his lap in an avert almost-apology. Collins sighed and glanced over at Mark's door. It was open. He got up and closed it softly, not wanting to risk Mark overhearing. Then he headed back to the table and sat down. "What do you think you're doing?" he repeated.

Roger didn't know what to say. How could he make him understand? My age does not matter. "I love him." It was the simple truth. It was all he had, all he could offer, and to Roger it meant the world, but he knew that to Collins it wouldn't be nearly enough.

"If you loved him, you'd be completely honest with him." It wasn't his age that bothered him. It was the fact that he kept that information from Mark. Mark was going to find out and it was going to matter, whether Roger believed it should or not.

I can't really argue with him. He's right, isn't he? If I loved Mark, I wouldn't keep this from him. But if I tell him--I mean, we're at that point where whenever we're together, we just want to touch and (well, taste, for me) as long as I'm underage, he will be bothered by that. Roger sighed and shook his head. "Things are perfect right now."

"Maybe that's what it looks like to you, but I see it differently." Their relationship might not survive, as much as they-- and Collins-- wanted it to.

Roger sighed. "In a few months, I'll... I'll be legally an adult. And then... it seems like that will be easier, but it won't, will it?" Shit! Not only am I started to agree with him, I'm starting to confide in him. Roger wanted to slap himself, hard. Actually, he wanted to...

He began picking at one of the scabs on his arm. And right now, he hated himself so much he just focused on the coffee mug and tried to disappear.

"Your best chance with him is to just tell him now. If he really loves you... he'll look past your age. I mean, what's age but a man-made measurement of time on Earth?" Collins drank more of his coffee, eyeing the scratches on Roger's arms. Boy, you got one hell of a cat. But he didn't say it. Enough was enough for one day.

You live in this... creation. This world of pure logic untouched by human standards. And I wanted to live there, too. But I don't. And neither does Mark. Roger couldn't say that, so he just drank some coffee and pressed his now bleeding arm to his jeans. This is not turning out to be a very good day, which is my fault, which means... plainly, I am a bad person. The thought eased Roger's breathing.

"You're a good kid. A liar, but a good kid." Collins laughed then was completely serious once more. "Still...I don't think you're not giving Mark enough credit. He won't reject you. Just be honest, and be yourself."

Roger closed his eyes, hard. I am not going to cry, I'm not… but it was damn tough because the truth was that himself was the last person Roger wanted to be. So he just said "Thank you" to the guy who just made him feel like a roach and wished he could invite Mark to his place and not have to talk to Collins, not be pulled back to the worthless little rat Roger knew he was, instead of the decent human being he became around Mark.

"No problem, man. I just want the best--morning, Mark."

Mark was standing at the door to his room, rubbing his eyes with one hand and pulling up his pants with the other. "Rog? When..." he yawned "…did you get up?"

"Uh..." Christ. Right then, he hated Collins, because he had this amazing ability to strip away any illusion of goodness Roger manage to slap on and make him feel... well, like this. And he did it in front of Mark. "Not that long ago. 'Morning." Roger found himself unable to raise his eyes.

"Mark, you never told me you two were official!" Collins laughed and patted the seat down next to him. Mark trudged over, still sleepy and yawning.

Roger was fairly certain Collins was glaring at him, so he just looked at his coffee. It's... it's funny stuff, coffee. He felt like such a moron. He felt like what he was, a little boy trying to play with the grown-ups. Christ, this is worse than making Varsity sophomore year. And I had to wear braces then!

Mark grabbed Roger's cup without as much as even asking and took a long sip before returning it.

"G-d, that's disgusting stuff. But at least I'm semi-awake now." He got up, intent on making himself some tea, and gave Roger a loud smack on the cheek before heading to the kitchen. Collins looked back at Roger. He was ready to make a sprint to the door, if he could just make himself move.

Roger had never been ashamed of what he was. Ever. He was queer and he accepted that. He felt as attracted to boys as he did to girls, and that to Roger was perfectly normal. This was the first time he had lowered his head to be kissed in front of anyone.

But he forced himself to cough up some false bravado and say, "I don't know how you live without coffee, Mark. Or honey in your tea!"

Mark laughed and responded, "That's what sugar's for, Roger. Oh, by the way, how long are you going to stay today?" Mark sounded like he wanted Roger to stay. Collins looked back at Roger and mouthed what he hoped he read as, Tell him.

Roger wanted to leave. He really did. "Oh, I don't want to impose," is the way he said so. "I'll be out of your hair soon." He would tell Mark. He would. But… the moment had to be right. After all, Mark was half-asleep and still riding a post-orgasm high. Surely now would be the worst time to tell him.

Mark predictably responded, "You're not imposing! Right, Col?"

"Right. Stay a while, we can all get to know each other a bit more." I have to admit, Roger's a fun kid to mess with. "Maybe we can go drinking. You can pass off as 21, right? I'm friends with security, I'm sure they can forgive 4 years." Collins laughed and Mark rolled his eyes.

"For the last time, he is not--"

"Actually, you know what, I just remembered, I can't stay!" Roger stood, rushed behind the sink and started washing his coffee cup. "I need to get home, I completely forgot about the cat last night. She's probably tearing the paper off the walls. I'm really sorry..."

The cat? Collins chuckled and watched as Mark pouts and hugs Roger from behind, planting kisses on the nape of Roger's neck. "Let your grandmother feed the cat..."

"Grandma can't work the can opener," he said. "She has really bad arthritis." This person really wasn't his grandma, she was his neighbor, but he did have a cat. "I'm sorry, Mark."

"Okay." Mark gave Roger one last kiss before heading back to the table, tea in hand.

Roger pulled his belongings together, though he left most of the food-- Mark and Collins didn't eat much, Roger knew, because of finances. Roger's shirt was completely unwearable. "Mark, do you think I could borrow a shirt? Mine's… um… not clean."

"Sure," he said. "Feel free to grab one."

"Thanks." Roger felt an almost sickening tingle of happiness as he picked up one of Mark's shirts. It was a little tight-- flexing his biceps might do a Hulk number on it. Nevertheless, it was Mark's shirt and wearing it made Roger's skin tingle. "Bye." He kissed Mark one final time, savoring the sickening morning taste of Mark. "I'll call."

When Roger was gone, Mark glared at Collins. "What?" Collins asked.

Why does my boyfriend leave every time he talks to you?

Mark shook his head. "Nothing."

TO BE CONTINUED!

hopefully soon, now that my internet's up again.

Please review?