I know it's short... this one was done for speedrent very near to deadline, but I liked it.
Disclaimer: RENT is Jonathan Larson's
He hurt too much to sleep.
"Think of something happy, Roger," Mark encouraged as he cradled the trembling body close against his chest. "Tell me your favorite… childhood memory. Tell me about your mom."
"She t-told me I was w-wasting my time," Roger replied through clenched teeth. "B's weren't good enough. I was too pissy. Why was I such a selfish fuck?"
Mark winced. Maybe Roger's mom was not the best subject. "Tell me about your favorite flower."
"Sunflowers." And suddenly Roger was having that dream again, the one where he was small and running through a bright, sunny field, endless, of rows and rows of the huge blooms. The dirt held moisture, released as it compacted beneath his feet. Roger left a trail of footprints as he ran through the field, laughing, nearly at the end but destined to a glorious NEVER of reaching it. And then it was not a field but a quilt, a blue quilt with sunflowers on it and a picket-fence border, and he was tucked up in bed smelling the pancakes and bacon his mom was making for breakfast.
Mark smiled. There now, something pleasant, something sweet about the hard-core, sweat-and-scars-and-pride Roger Davis. "They look like the sun," Mark affirmed, needing to speak.
"No. It's because they follow the sun." Roger liked them for that. He liked the flowers as thirsty as he so often felt. He liked another being that shared his ability to lie in the sunny patches of the wood floor like a kitten, soaking up the heat that could never burn him. After his afternoon nap-- an incident even his parents were unaware of, though the ritual continued well into Roger's teenage years-- he poured the bottles of water his mother left for him into the toilet. They'll keep you healthy, she intoned often. He always left a little so she could watch him swallow and praise her good boy. "They always find the light."
Roger tilted his chin upwards and stroked Mark's face. Mark would never forget the gentleness of Roger's touch, how his too-strong fingers knew the perfect want of pressure. "Hey." Roger cracked a silly grin and kissed Mark's cheek. "I appreciate this. I'm glad one of us was strong enough."
Once in a while, Mark needed to hear that. He dared not acknowledge this, only hoped Roger knew. "I'm here for you."
"I know. That's why I love you, Sunflower."
Mark felt his heart swell up in his chest like a balloon. Whether or not Roger knew what he was saying-- his eyelids drooped shut seconds later-- Mark could not tell, but, even knowing he could never again mention this moment, Mark knew he would never forget.
END!
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