A/N: Just a little ditty I wrote for the livejournal community RentforBastards. Thanks to Carrie and Katie! You know the drill. Hope you guys like it!
Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson man.
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"Here, you can help me." Mark comments, pulling Roger over without question, grasping him by his leather bound arm. "Bye guys!" He waves back to Angel and Collins who return the goodbye and then continue down the sidewalk. Roger's hands bunch up, dug deep down in his pockets as he crosses the street with Mark. Fuck. This means they have time alone to talk. The rocker has been avoiding this ever since he met Mimi. He knows exactly what Mark has to say about Roger meeting someone new. And Roger doesn't particularly want to hear it. A long pause settles before Roger completely comprehends that he might actually have to be active today.
"How exactly am I supposed to help you?" They make their way down the sidewalk, the lot coming into sight after a long cold walk. Mark glances at Roger with a look of annoyance. Obviously he doesn't realize Mark was trying to get away so that Angel and Collins could be alone.
"I dunno. Just follow my lead. It's not that hard." A small smile touches Mark's lips, but it's brushed off immediately when he sees Roger roll his eyes.
"I don't know how I'm going to be helpful. I thought I was just going to watch a protest. Not actually do work." Roger groans, and the other boy hits him lightly across the arm.
"Shut up. You're so lazy, it's good for you to get out and actually do something. I'm just glad that you're out of the loft." Mark fondles his camera, opening secret compartments and turning hidden knobs, baffling Roger after every twitch of his fingers. That camera has so many buttons and contraptions built into it, you would think the thing is it's own factory. The rocker's green eyes settle on the machine, as Mark takes off the lens cap and directs it towards some pigeons flocking around a bench. Roger is amazed by the passion Mark has for his work. He admires it. And even though lately Roger has pushed away the filmmaker's camera whenever Mark pushes the damn thing into his face, the rocker secretly loves watching Mark film. He can tell that Mark is truly happy when filming, and that makes a part of him happy too.
"That wasn't my doing." Roger mumbles under his breath, and Mark switches his camera on after shooting him a demeaning look. It's so obvious what he's about to say. But Roger is sick of hearing about her. She, who changed his life, she, who got him out. She who will make his life so different if he will just let her in. But he doesn't want to let her in. He's just too afraid to admit he might want something else. Someone else.
"I know that. That's why I don't understand why you won't be with Mimi. She's good for you. She got you out." The pigeons scatter across the bench, before flying away individually. Roger finds it a bit odd that Mark is filming birds, as opposed to some bum on the street. For a few days now, the filmmaker has almost completely ignored beautiful imagery. Ever since he started to film Angel, Mark has become more interested in the human spirit than anything. Beforehand if the sun hit the trees just right, Mark would be there with his camera. But now it's human conflict, human relationships, human flaw, and everything else beautiful and ugly that comes along with being a human. He shuts off his camera once the birds are out of sight, setting it back against his chest and reaching for the door of the performance space.
"I don't want to talk about Mimi, Mark." Roger walks in before him, slipping through the door just as it's opened the slightest bit. Cold air hits him, almost as if it's colder inside this torn up building then on the New York streets. But Roger has a feeling he will get warmed up with all of the work coming at him. He hasn't actually done anything in six months except for complain about how they have no food and sit, closed up in his room. But Mimi did change that. Even if Roger hates the fact he has to work now because of it.
The pair walk further inside the building, gazing at random street peddlers that made their home here, one with a jacked grocery cart full of stolen goods, and another hacking violently into his fist. A deep pain hits Roger in the gut, thinking that he might be looking that sick one day. Mark catches sight of Joanne up fixing a spotlight, and taps Roger's shoulder to get his attention. Roger nods before further inspecting the place, then waves to Joanne once she sees the two on the ground.
"You need help?" Mark screams up to her, and all he gets is an uneasy shrug before she slowly makes her way down the tower. Her tan outfit stretches over her thighs tightly, hugging her hips all the way up to her stomach and stopping to meet an orange tank top. Her boots are pitch black, complete with strings and zippers to situate them on her feet, then allow her to stand comfortably on those spiky heels. Both Mark and Roger are still amazed that women are able to stand on such thin heels. Roger meant to ask Angel, but never got around to it.
"Yea." Joanne sighs, brushing a curl of light black hair out of her face. "Hi, I'm Joanne. You must be Roger." The lawyer extends her hand out to Roger, who takes it quickly and firmly, even though he's never been fond of handshakes. Something about it seems so impersonal, not to say that Roger has ever been that warm of a person lately.
"Yea. Joanne I assume? I've heard a lot about…you." A grunt shoots harshly from his mouth as Mark elbows him violently in the stomach, stopping any innuendos or nasty comments from being made. Joanne chuckles to herself before proceeding to tell the boys what needs to be done.
"I'm not all of that technical a person. But some of those lights over there…I don't know. Something happened, and it'd be great if you could figure it out. I would ask Maureen, but apparently she needs at least three hours of preparing her voice and muscles before doing any work. I think she misunderstood me. She doesn't need to sing at the lights, just fix them." She shakes her head in frustration, and Mark holds back a cocky smile he desperately wishes to sport right now. Just the fact that someone is going through exactly what he used to experience with the drama queen is reward from all of those months combined.
"We'll do it. Just…calm down." Roger pats her on the shoulder, as she sighs and begins to head back up the light tower without a word in response.
"That was awfully accepting of you. Mr. I'm-not-doing-a-thing accepts the first thing that's thrown at him?" Mark raises and eyebrow and Roger hastily removes his leather jacket, ignoring the freezing temperatures. He's looking more ready to work up a sweat than ever, and it's coming as a great surprise to Mark. But hey, if he's willing to work, Mark thinks, then he shouldn't waste any time.
"Yea well…she looks stressed out. I wanted to relax her a little bit." He begins to make his way over to the pile of lights, motioning for Mark to follow him. "Besides…I think we all know how taxing life with Maureen can be." He arrogantly cracks a wide smile, the kind of smile that would make any woman swoon. It makes Mark irritated. Irritated that Roger can catch him with a smile. He can persuade him with a chuckle, or say something and make Mark believe it. Roger has always had that power over him. And Mark hates that he can't retaliate. Be with Mimi. Be with Mimi. BE with Mimi. That way, maybe these feelings will be rationalized and disappear. These sudden and new feelings.
"I never saw that sympathy while I was dating Maureen." A small pout inches to his lips, as he wanders around Roger in a circle, unaware that the rocker had such knowledge about lighting equipment. Or that he was so interested in it, at least. Roger has taken two cords in his hands, looking for places to plug them in, something Mark would rather not partake in. Sticking random wires in open spaces is not an ideal action for the filmmaker, he concludes. Despite being electrocuted slightly after one mishap, Roger manages to keep the conversation going.
"Well you knew what you were getting into. Plus you had us to vent to. Even though you didn't take the opportunity."
"It was bound to end anyways…apparently. You're making the same mistake you know. You ignore me whenever I bring Mimi up." Mark finally does his part, helping Roger lift the seemingly heavy light up the ladder, and watching him attach it next to one of the many televisions. But Mark doesn't see the reason Mimi has to stay out of the conversation. Then again, Roger can't quite see it either. He just knows there's something. Something unexplainable. But something.
"That's because I don't need to talk about Mimi. I'm not doing anything about it, and that's my decision. Now would you just let it go?" When the light is secured, and Roger has made sure it won't fall on top of him when he climbs down the ladder, he proceeds to make his way back towards Mark.
"This is why you need to talk. You don't see that you two should be together." Mark moves around, trying to find Roger's gaze, trying to make him listen. They both know that this needs to be talked about, but only one of them is willing to actually do it. Neither of them has enough courage to admit why they haven't done it.
"No, we shouldn't. I don't need to get into all that shit again." Roger picks up another light, concluding that it doesn't need to be fixed, and then carrying it slowly up the ladder, this time without Mark's help. Instead, Mark just stands at the base of the ladder, mentally pleading that Roger will just see that he needs to be with Mimi.
"What shit? Look…I know she's a junkie. But you can help her. Help her realize that she doesn't need that."
"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?" At last Roger looks down to see Mark staring dejectedly up at him, waiting for his anger and hostility to repress. But Roger doesn't know how to tell him that he just doesn't want Mimi. That fucked up, confusing, reckless stage of his life is over now, and he doesn't need to repeat it just to help a junkie.
"Show her something else. Show her that she doesn't need drugs to make her happy, or whatever the hell you…she thinks drugs do for her."
"I don't believe you of all people are trying to talk me into this." Roger stalks around backstage, finding anything to keep his hands busy, just so he doesn't have to look Mark in the eye. He's afraid if he does, he might just give in to something that he's not even sure he wants.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Mark snaps, grasping Roger's arm between his fingers, after minutes of talking to a shifting figure.
"It means that after all of that shit I went through, after April's death, after the drugs, the withdrawal, the isolation, you are pressing this like none of it happened. How do you know that I won't get swept up in all that again? And you're just willing to throw me out there after I just bounced back." Surprisingly, Roger's voice doesn't rise, maybe in fear that Joanne will hear the whole conversation. But Mark certainly got the message.
"Maybe I trust you. I trust that you wouldn't do that to yourself again. Or do that to me again." Mark checks up to make sure that Joanne isn't eavesdropping, and then his eyes drop to the ground. The filmmaker doesn't exactly know why he's pushing for Roger to help Mimi. He wants Roger to know what it's like? What he went through? He wants Roger to compensate for April? What exactly is supposed to come of this that makes it worth fighting for?
"I wouldn't. I won't." Roger slowly inches closer to Mark, trying to silently apologize for it all. For being such an ass, for doing drugs, for never actually thanking Mark for everything he's done. He needs forgiveness, to know that everything is all right between them, and to let Mark know that he is grateful.
"Then what's the problem?" Mark whispers, and immediately Roger backs away. He's still on this.
"Mark, would you just let me live my fucking life?" He eyes the many lights left to put up, and sighs at the overwhelming pressure building in his chest. Sure he's telling Mark he doesn't want Mimi, but he really doesn't know what he wants. Is Mimi good for him? Of course not. She can't be. She's everything he's sworn off. Everything he's been hiding from. He's not ready to start something with so many complications. But following his feelings might not be good either. He's not sure that what he thinks he wants is plausible, or even something that he could attempt.
"Why can't you just help her? Why don't you see that she needs your help?" Apparently Mark is under pressure as well, as his camera is hastily flipped off from against his chest, and lightly yet harshly dropped to the cement floor.
"I know she needs help. But I don't need that. I don't need to get all wrapped up in that again." Roger rubs at his temples gently, wiping away the guilt that is raining down on him. There's so much good that could come from a relationship with Mimi, but also so much bad. It all depends on…acceptance or resistance.
"Then what do you need Roger?" Mark crosses his arms, awaiting an answer, even though nothing can please him. And Roger knows. So they sit in a silence. Every second of anger and frustration and confusion bottles up, pushing against the walls of their brains.
"I'm leaving…" Mark turns around, but isn't able to get far. He feels Roger's hand grip tightly around his wrist, pulling him back, asking for forgiveness.
"Wait…I…" Eyes meet casually, then stick. Studying each other softly, wrapping minds around minds, and before long Roger's hand isn't there to pull Mark back. His fingers stroke up and down, maybe unintentionally, maybe not. He doesn't really know. All he feels is the want, the need of something he's realized before, but never even considered might happen. Mark is looking and touching and feeling the same way. That's what's unexpected. And seconds later, he can taste and see and feel something he's never even thought about before. He crashes their lips together, desperate and unjustifiable. Wet tongues thrash, brushing against each other, exploring the mouths beneath them. They've both imagined this before, but not in reality. Now, it seems like it always should be done. Roger pressing himself against Mark, cupping his cheek in his hand, seems like it is natural behavior.
Mark's legs shake uncontrollably against the sides of Roger's thigh, as it wanders up and down, inside and out, long and short strokes. Their mouths are welded together, hands tangled, hips grinding, minds screaming, thighs quivering. Every second passes with doubt and hesitation, and every time Roger's tongue trails over his, Mark is ready to push him away. But something keeps him there just a moment longer. Then maybe his mind finally realized what was going on, or he mustered up courage, but Mark is at last able to press a hand to Roger's chest, forcing the two men apart.
It takes a second for the rocker to comprehend what had just happened. That was Mark he was kissing, Mark's tongue intertwined with his, Mark's hands wandering his body. And he was the one to start it. He wanted it. Apparently so did Mark. He was kissing back, feeling back, pressing back.
"You…we…" Roger stammers, wiping the line of saliva away from the edge of his mouth.
"That's what you…need…"
"I think so." Mark reaches over lightly, brushing hair out of Roger's face. Roger grasps his hand quickly, afraid that he might pull away. But he doesn't. And he wouldn't.
"Maybe I do too." A wave of relief pours over Roger, glad that his feelings weren't false. They were sudden and unexpected, but not fake. Mark feels it too.
"What about Mimi?" The rocker jumps subjects quickly, now completely willing to talk about the woman he has desperately been trying to keep off of his mind. But Mark is still recuperating. Still trying to make out what really happened. Was it just a mistake, or…no. Mimi. Roger needs to help Mimi.
"She needs you." A pain jolts through Mark's stomach as the words spill from his mouth, along with other feelings he never knew he could harbor for his best friend. But maybe they've been there all along. Maybe he was just too afraid to acknowledge that they existed.
"Mark…" Roger sighs, even though he knows Mark is right.
"Don't say it. Just…you know you need to help her. So just do it. Whatever…this is…will have to…be put…" He takes a breath before starting again. This all seems to be moving so fast. One kiss and everything has changed. But that's how much one kiss can do. "We'll just have to wait to see…if this is really…anything." He finishes with what seems like the cruelest statement he has ever uttered. He doesn't want to wait, but for some reason, Mimi sticks thoroughly in his mind. All Roger can do is nod.
All Roger can do is walk away, waving at Joanne like everything is all right. All Roger can do is avoid Mark's eyes as they continue to work until nightfall, never speaking of what happened again. All Roger can do is offer for Mimi to come with him to the Life. All Roger can do is let himself fall for her, as he waits for someone else. And all Mark can do is watch. But then again, that's all he ever does.