"Look, I don't really have time right now, Rog. I'm meeting some friends at the restaurant-the one down the street. I'm sorry, I know you needed to talk to me. Do you think we could talk when I get home?" Mark asked, his eyes empty. He walked out of the room without an answer from Roger, who sat on Mark's bed. Mark closed the door behind him, leaving Roger alone in his room. Roger sat, staring at the wall, for quite a while. He stood up, looked behind him, and then laid back down. He smelled Mark's distinctive cologne.
"Oh well...Mark is going to be gone for a while anyway, I'm just going to rest a bit," Roger thought to himself. Roger slipped his hands under the pillow as he lay down, and felt something under it. "What...?" He said quietly. He pulled it out and realized it was Mark's bloody scarf. "Oh, Mark," He sighed. Roger took the scarf to the washer, and put it in. "Why did Mark save something like that?" He asked himself. Roger waited until the scarf was finished washing and drying, then he folded it up and placed it back under Mark's pillow.
About an hour later, Mark returned, and retreated to his room to rest-something he did more and more often lately. Roger was resting in the loft when he heard yelling coming from Mark's room. Afraid that Mark was hurt, he ran as fast as he possible could and opened the door to Mark's room. There he saw Mark, standing, his room demolished around him. "DID YOU DO THIS?" He screamed, holding up the scarf. Roger was completely shocked at how Mark was acting. Mark tried as hard as he could to rip the scarf, failing miserably, so he threw it in Roger's face. "YOU BASTARD!" He yelled, hitting Roger's chest. Roger remained calm, knowing that Mark couldn't hurt him. "FUCK YOU! F-Fu-" Mark breathed quickly and heavily, "Wh-Why did you do that? Why-why?" Mark's inquisitive eyes bore into Roger.
"Mark...Mark, I'm sorry," Roger said sincerely, "I only did it because...I didn't want you to have to think of what happened every time you touched it, or looked at it..." He touched Mark's arm.
"Why? Why did you do that? Why would you even care? Why!" Mark asked, tears springing to his eyes. He shook Roger as he asked, over and over again, "Why?"
"Because, Mark. Because I..." He sighed, "Because, I love you. I love you, Mark. I've always loved you. Ever since I first saw you, I knew that you were the one...I knew that I loved you." Mark's questioning eyes eased and his tears flowed freely. He stared at Roger for several seconds, before pulling him into an intense kiss.
"I love you, too," Mark said between quick kisses, "I love you, too-I love you, I love you..." Mark and Roger continued kissing, Roger pushing him to the bed. "I love you..."
Roger kissed his neck passionately, before taking his shirt off. He looked at Mark's weak frame, wanting to admire every bit of him, but Roger couldn't keep his lips away for that long. He began kissing Mark's collar bone and moved his way down to his chest, kissing every inch of him, as Mark moaned. He moved even lower, reaching his abs, and following the trail of hair laid out for him, reaching Mark's pants. He undid them, and pulled them down, leaving Mark's underwear on. He wanted to tease Mark a bit more. He kissed Mark's member through his white underwear, over and over again, until Mark was practically screaming. Roger decided it was time.
He began pulling Mark's underwear down, and it was like something inside Mark clicked. He sat straight up on the bed. "Roger, no...I-I'm not ready for this yet." Roger looked disappointed. "I'm sorry...It's just...I don't want to get hurt..." Roger stood up.
"It's okay-I understand, Mark," Roger said, before leaning in to kiss Mark's forehead, "I love you. Goodnight..." Roger left the room, and closed the door behind him. Mark laid there for the rest of the night, thinking. Maybe he should let Roger in...Wasn't it about time Mark had someone? After all, it had been forever since Maureen.
