a/n: so sorry these take so long to get out, it's usually because I can't think of what the next letter should be and I run through several possibilities that never end up working out. Also congrats are in order, I think this is the first Rent fanfiction I've written that doesn't have the f word in it. Not once! And I didn't even have to edit any out or try to not use it… WEIRD. Thank you everyone for your fantastic support and reviews. Seriously, I can't express how much I appreciate it.

E is for Early

The door swung open and Roger entered. The smell of smoke, sweat, and alcohol entered in with him permeating the loft. On the couch, Mark sat huddled over a notebook in his lap, dark pen in one hand. He looked up when Roger entered and gave him a tired smile.

"Good morning."

"Morning?" Roger ran a hand through his short blond hair, collapsing on the couch next to him, "What the hell time is it?"

"4am." Mark paused, looked closer at his best friend, "You're… you're not high."

He chuckled, "You sound surprised."

"You usually are after a show, especially this late…or well early morning…"

They fell into a comfortable silence. Mark scribbled more words on the crowded notebook paper and Roger pulled the black coat from his shoulders, relishing in the sound of pen against paper.

"So its 4am, why are you still up?" Roger grinned, leaned in to pinch Mark's cheek playfully, "You been waitin up for little ole me, Marky?"

Mark made a face and pushed his hand away, "No."

But the slight hesitation in his voice always made Roger wonder if Mark was lying. His face was hunched over the notebook paper so Roger couldn't see his eyes and know for certain. Mark shifted next to him as though he sensed Roger's disbelief.

"I just had an idea for a film and wanted to get it all written down before I forgot. Just got distracted is all."

"Yeah, yeah… just keep telling yourself all those excuses." Roger smiled, "We know the truth."

He looked over, eyes narrowed, "We?"

"Oh y'know… everyone."

Mark rolled his eyes, "Right… just like your belief that everyone who has ever met you wants to have sex with you."

Roger threw his hands up in mock exasperation, "What? I can't help it. It's one of the curses that come with being a sex god!"

"Uh huh, sure." He couldn't help but roll his eyes again as he went back to writing.

The rocker stood, grabbed the notebook from the filmmaker's hands, and folded his arms over his strong chest, "Mark Cohen one of these days I will seduce you and you'll finally understand why that title is so fitting."

"You can try." He said as he stood and reached for the notebook.

"Try and succeed!" Roger held the notebook high, just out of the shorter man's reach.

"Try and fail!" Mark corrected, jumping to reach it, but Roger jumped with him making the notebook impossible to reach.

"Oh no…" Roger smirked as Mark grabbed on to his arm pushing against him so hard they both collapsed to the floor. "I'll have you on my bed…" Roger held down Mark's right hand as Mark's left pushed against his shoulder and grasped for the notebook, "taking down your pants so fast…" Mark let out a little growl, holding down Roger's left arm with his knee, "you won't know what hit you."

Mark grunted as Roger pushed against his chest with his elbow and he struggled to get away, "Please, Roger…you're not… that attractive."

Roger let go suddenly, sending Mark sprawling, a satisfied smile spread across his face, "So you admit that I am at least somewhat attractive."

Mark rolled his eyes and stood, notebook in hands. "Yes Roger, oh God, you are the sexiest man I have ever met. Every day I have to try so hard to restrain myself from throwing you up against a wall and screwing your brains out."

"That's what I thought, but a little wrong. Y'see it'd be me screwing your brains out. I am the sex god after all." Roger grinned, sitting on the couch again.

Mark gave him a look, "You're such an asshole."

"But a sexy asshole, right? That's all that really matters" He insisted, but Mark merely rolled his eyes in response. "So speaking of sex…where's Maureen at?"

"It's 4 in the morning Roger, she's sleeping." Mark sat next to him on the couch, "God where did you think she'd be?"

"I forgot how early it is." He yawned and then remembered how little he'd seen of them lately, "Hey, how's that goin by the way… with you two?"

"Good. It's uh-" Mark smiled and then added, "It's great, really."

And Roger knew what that meant. The blind smile. The fidget at the mere mention of her name. Those blue eyes filled with a distinct, vibrant life.

Why didn't I see it sooner?

Roger stared at him, green meeting blue in a new level of understanding, "You love her… don't you?"

He nodded, blushing, "Yes. It's crazy. I mean, I never thought I'd have something like this. Someone like her."

"Yeah," Roger shook his head, grinning, "She sure is something else."

"How's everything with April?"

The rocker tensed.

"Oh y'know, she gets moody sometimes. We fight a lot about stupid shit…" He shrugged, "But the sex is good."

"Roger…"

You can always see right through me.

"I know, I know, but… I love her. You can get that now, can't you? You can get that no matter how hard it gets, no matter what she does or says, no matter how much we fight… I can't give her up. I can't just let her go."

The filmmaker nodded, staring at his hands folded in his lap.

"I can't. I mean she's amazing. We have fun together. We…"

"Shoot up together?"

"Mark….Don't judge me."

"I'm not judging." He bit his lip, "I'm just worried."

Roger sighed, leaned back in the couch, "It's not a problem. It's just something to do at parties, after a show, something to do with April that connects us. We're so different, but this is something we can share, y'know."

"Why do you do it?"

"I just told you."

"No, I mean the real reason." He closed the notebook and set it on the floor next to them, "Those were just excuses."

I could never bull shit you.

Roger looked away, took in a deep breath, "Sometimes you feel too much, y'know, feel too strongly. Pain, love, anger… it builds up so strong, I feel it all so completely sometimes that I can't handle it. Heroin helps me to relax, helps me to feel empty."

"I think I'd rather have feelings."

"Well that's where we differ, Marky."

I let myself feel too much.

You let yourself feel too little.

"Yea…"

Roger threw an arm around Mark's thin shoulders and together they stood, yawning in near perfect unison, "I guess we should get to bed. It's really early."

"Yea, I know." They walked towards their bedrooms, arm over shoulders, "But it's one of my favorite times of the day."

Roger smiled, "Yeah. Mine too."

And they went into their separate bedrooms, to sleep away their separate nights, to have energy for their separate days, to reconnect again some other early time.