Author's Note: Written for speedrent challenge #76. Title's from "Room to Breathe" by Anthony Rapp.
"Aren't you supposed to be going to that meeting with what's-her-name?"
"Alexi," Mark said with a sigh, glancing up at Roger momentarily in the process of tying his shoe. Roger wasn't looking at him, just leaning against the windowsill and staring outside, so Mark shook his head and looked down again. He wondered if he'd imagined the ring of disdain in Roger's question, whether Roger hated his decision as much as he did. "Her name is Alexi," he muttered unnecessarily, simply trying to fill the silence.
"Right. Alexi. So your meeting with her…?"
"I'll probably be late," he answered diffidently, "but I'll survive." If he was going to sell out, after all, he certainly wasn't going to miss Angel's funeral to do it.
Roger didn't answer. Mark looked over at him again. "You can't wear that jacket," he said at last. Now Roger turned away from the window and frowned at him.
"Why not?"
"Because, Roger. You don't wear a leather jacket to a funeral. No, not even you," he added in response to the unspoken challenge in Roger's eyes. "Put on a blazer or something."
"I don't have one."
"Not even one?" Again, Roger didn't reply, and Mark was forced to admit that that was a dumb question when it came to Roger. "Fine, wear the jacket. But you need a tie."
Roger rolled his eyes and leaned back against the windowsill again, watching calmly as Mark walked into his bedroom. "Do you really think I have one of those either?" Mark could only half hear him from the other room, but he made it out well enough as he rifled through the unorganized mess of his closet.
"Not for a second," he said as he straightened and walked back into the front room. "Which is why you're borrowing one of mine." He tossed the tie at Roger, who caught it with the faint trace of a sneer.
"Why do you have ties?" He was eyeing it like he thought it might bite him. "Let alone a spare one for me to borrow?"
"You even have to ask that question?"
"Right, your mommy got them for you, didn't she?" He grinned when Mark just shot him a glare in lieu of an actual response. "Now how do you put this on?"
"Oh, for goodness sake, Roger," Mark muttered and pulled the tie from Roger's hands, quickly fixing it around his neck. He glanced up to meet Roger's eyes, trying not to smile. "You really are hopeless."
Roger did smile as he saw the amusement in Mark's eyes. "I know."
Mark smoothed Roger's tie, then automatically reached up to push Roger's hair away from his face. "You know, you look almost presentable." He took a step backwards, surveying Roger quietly. His voice softened a little as he asked, "How're you going to get by in Santa Fe?"
"Well, I imagine I won't have the problem of figuring out how to work a tie there," Roger answered with that slightly mocking and overly cocky smile of his that Mark knew all too well, the hint of defensiveness hovering almost unseen in the back of his eyes.
"That's not what I meant."
The smile faded a little. "I'll be fine," he said, ruffling Mark's hair the way he used to when they were younger. "Just make your film and don't worry about me."
Mark could only look at him for a moment, compelled to say something, but there was a sudden tightness in his throat and he wasn't sure he could get the words out if he tried. "Come on," he said after a moment, grabbing Roger's shoulder and propelling him toward the front door. "We've got to go or we will be late." There was a pause, and then he added very softly, "I always worry about you. It's not like it's out of my way."