Title: Since First I Saw Your Face (2/3)
Author: CentralsPrincess15 AKA Libby
Feedback: would be kind…and rewarded with cookies…
Pairing: Roger/Mark
Word Count: 1,823
Rating: NC-17 BOY!SEX ON FILM!
Genre: romance?
Summary: Pre-Rent then Post-Rent Roger doesn't remember meeting Mark.
Notes: I realize that Mark's camera probably doesn't have sound. But I'm taking artistic license here and in my story it does. My lord, writing Roger watchin himself on tape with Mark doing naughty things is kind of hard to write…
Warnings: boy!sex on film
Disclaimer: I do not own RENT or any of its characters; I just like to play with them! i Since First I Saw Your Face /i is the name of a song written by Thomas Ford
The first few seconds of film are blank. Then all of a sudden Mark's face comes into view. He's much younger, Roger can tell even without knowing that this was made years ago. It's in his eyes. They hold so much wonder, and awe. Roger's sure it's for the city.
"July 28, 4:13 p.m. Eastern Standard Time. I've been in the city for a week an a half and this is the first time I've turned on my camera. It's odd, I know, but I figured that since I'm staying I can take the 2 weeks my parents think I'm staying here for vacation, as actual vacation. The room they rented for me is only good until Sunday so maybe tomorrow I'll try to find Benny and take him up on his offer. The reason I've turned my dear friend on before it's time is because of a person. A singer, well Rock Star. I've been going to his shows for the past three days and I need to get him on film. I'm not sure how much longer he'll be performing and I need something to remember him by. He's so…he's got this power that radiates off of him when he's on stage. Maybe it radiates off of him all the time only I've been too scared to approach him. "
The Mark on the film looks down and Roger's sure he can see a blush on his cheeks. Mark blushing over him? He stares at the screen as the younger Mark scoffs, shakes his head and gets up moving toward the camera. Before it shuts off he hears him say quietly,
"Like I have a chance."
Blank screen once again before a packed club comes into view. Roger recognizes it as CBGB's, one of the few places that gave his band gigs in the old days, not that he remembers much of them other than shooting up in the back room that the owner's son (an old school friend of Roger's, hence the gigs) kept for Roger's personal use.
Roger sees himself on stage. He doesn't remember that boy. Yes, he was nearly 22 at the time but he was still a boy. It wasn't until Mark became a large part of his life that he changed into a man. The boy onstage was smiling, always smiling and winking at the girls dancing in skimpy outfits all around the room. Then Roger was shocked when he found the him from the past staring directly into the camera, no past the camera. The boy's smile became warmer, more meaningful as he gave the cameraman not only a wink, but a nod as well before turning back to the screaming girls.
About a half an hour more of his own face, his own voice. Just when he was tempted to figure out how to fast forward the machine, nothingness once again filled the sheet. The his own face, once again came into view.
"…on?" He was pointing to the camera.
"It is now." Mark was no where to be seen, probably behind the camera like always.
His own voice once again filled his ears, "Hey, the owner keeps a small room in the back for me. Wanna head there and get away from all the noise?"
Roger sat straight up. Did he just hit on Mark? God he would give up anything just to remember this night.
Mark must have nodded because Roger downed his beer and stood walking toward the back of the club. Vaguely, Roger thinks he hears a whispered "Oh My God" from the filmmaker who is still out of frame but he can't be sure.
The room is sparse, but comfortable. There's a table and a few chairs and on the other wall is a large comfortable looking couch. On screen Roger plops down on the couch motioning to the cameraman to sit next to him. As the camera got closer Roger stood and took it from Mark.
"Let's put this somewhere so we can talk face to face." Roger could no longer see his own face but he could see Marks. He was blushing again, whether it was from something Roger did or what he said didn't matter.
The camera jerked a bit as it was set down with a perfect view of the couch. Close enough to capture everything they said, and far enough to be forgotten. On screen Roger took Marks hand and led him to the couch.
Another hour of conversation that Roger can't remember. They talked about everything. Roger talked about his roommates, excluding names for some reason. Mark talked about leaving college to come here and getting his parents to pay for the first few weeks here. They talked and acted like old friends that haven't seen each other in ages. That was before on screen Roger said,
"I've seen you here the past few days, I know the food isn't good so what is it that keeps you coming back?"
The smile on his face said he knew exactly why. Roger's jaw dropped. There it was again. He had hit on Mark. He always thought he was inconspicuous about his feelings but that was when they were friends, roommates. This Mark was just some guy he assumed to be a groupie, some guy he could have his way with.
Mark was blushing again. Roger never saw Mark blush so much, even when he was going out with Maureen. A smile crossed Mark's face, sly, knowing, if not a little nervous.
"I like the entertainment."
On screen Roger laughed, "I bet you do."
Mark blushed and looked straight at the camera, "It's still running, I'm going to shut it off..."
He stood and as he walked past Roger grabbed his wrist and pulled him into his lap.
"Leave it on." His voice was husky, deep, and full of need.
"But the battery..."
Roger's lips were on Marks neck placing opened mouthed kisses right below his ear.
"Leave it on."
They stared into each others eyes before they came together in a searing kiss. Roger put his head in his hands. God, he wished more than anything to be able to remember this, to remember the feel of Mark's lips on his, Mark's body on top of his.
A groan caught his attention and he looked up. It was him, the him on the screen, his shirt was gone and Marks head was in the middle of his chest. He could only guess what Mark was doing. The camera was positioned in such a way that it pointed directly to Roger, obscuring Mark's ministrations by his own head.
Another groan, then a moan and Marks name was filling the loft. Mark's head was at his stomach and from the way Roger was moving, his hands were probably on his zipper.
Roger closed his eyes and hung his head. This was what happened. This was why Mark got angry at him for not remembering. This was what he missed out on because of drugs.
Another moan and Roger's head sprang up. This was not one of his. Mark was sprawled out on the couch, Roger on top of him. This time Roger could watch himself kissing, licking, and biting Mark's pale skin. He moaned, not sure how much of this he could take.
Mark's shirt was gone, soon his pants followed. The little sounds he made drove both Roger's wild it would seem as the one on film smirked at him, then pulled his boxers down and took him in his mouth and the other unzipped his pants and wrapped his hand around himself tightly.
Mark begged and pleaded, whimpered bucked, and Roger knew he was close. On screen Roger seemed to know it to as he pulled himself up and lay on top of Mark. Whispered words that weren't picked up by the camera, nods that were barely perceptible, and then the one thing that shattered him beyond belief. Marks voice came out loud and clear,
"Fuck me Roger, please."
Roger came hard in his hand moaning Marks name and knowing he still had a ways to go in the film. Taking off his shirt he cleaned himself off never once taking his eyes off the film.
Roger kissed Mark gently, almost lovingly as he slowly slipped one finger, then two into him. Mark moaned, not in pleasure at first, but in pain. More whispered words, feather light kisses, and one more finger and soon Mark was moving with him, against them and moaning in pleasure. With one more kiss Roger pushed himself off Mark and positioned himself at his entrance.
"You sure Marky?" his words were soft, concerned and Roger was sure he never asked one of his other groupies that question.
Mark simply nodded and whimpered a soft "please" before slowly Roger entered him inch by inch. Soon he was buried to the hilt and Mark was whimpering in pain. Holding steady, Roger leaned down and kissed his forehead, cheek, chin, and lips lightly. Moaning Mark bucked up underneath him to tell him he was ready, he was fine.
Roger cried when the two boys on screen came together. He cried for everything he could have had, everything he lost, and what he put poor Mark through. The battery died soon after and the screen was blank once more.
A few seconds later Marks face once again came onto the screen, this time pale and resentful, scowling.
"July 29, 9:00p.m. Eastern Standard Time. I'm such a fucking idiot. The man I idolized, adored is a fucking heroin addict. I fucked him last night as the footage on this reel shows, and tomorrow I have an appointment at a clinic to get tested for HIV because I was stupid, and lustful and we didn't use a condom."
A tear fell down the filmmaker's cheek and that caused Roger to break into more sobs.
"The worst thing about all this is, it was the best night of my life. Even though he left right after to get high, even though I might die I got what I wanted didn't I? And if I ever see him again, I know I'd fall for him in a heartbeat. Because last night I saw inside him, last night I saw what a person he could be, and if we ever become friends, I will help him be that person…even if it's not with me."
White screen once more only this time there was nothing after. Roger sat for a good ten minutes just staring at the blank screen. He knew what he had to do. Jumping up he flicked off the projector and ran to his room. Putting on a clean shirt and pair of pants he picked up his jacket and ran to the door of the loft.
He threw it open to find Mark sitting on the top step, head in his hands, shoulders shaking.