Warning:This chapter is SMUTTY! It tells a lot about Mark, which is why I included it, but if you don't like smut you can probably skip it.
Disclaimer: RENT belongs to Jonathan Larson.
The floor was cold-- that was Mark's first thought, that the floor was cold. He closed his eyes as he folded his glasses and set them on the table by the bed, then carefully put in his contacts. He blinked. Mark much preferred his glasses, but the contacts were better suited to the situation.
He stood by the door, then stepped back. Mark wanted to be certain that he was the first thing Roger saw when he stepped into the room. There were other things Roger could notice later: like the handcuffs on the bed, and the crop if that interested him. Mark had even tidied his room up, though he doubted Roger would notice that. In fact if Roger noticed anything upon entering the room but Mark, it would be a great disappointment.
What's taking him so long?
Mark was beginning to get antsy. He was suddenly all too keenly aware of the cold. Goosebumps rippled across his skin and his nipples were erect, which was more than he could say for his penis. He felt a blush creep onto his cheeks. What could he say? I'm usually bigger, but it's cold in here… I'm still capable of pleasing you.
The door opened; Mark's head snapped up, his lips parted slightly.
"I realized I don't know your si…" Roger stepped into the room, holding a box of condoms in one hand and jelly in the other. He trailed off, staring at Mark. He blinked and swallowed. His throat was suddenly tight and raw and his jeans tighter than they had been a moment ago. He swallowed.
Mark watched Roger's eyes rove across his body. He straightened his shoulders; this caused him to realize just how much he was slouching. Maybe Roger wouldn't notice Mark gently correcting the tilt in his pelvis. No such luck: Roger's gaze was momentarily fixed on that region. But Mark couldn't just stay slouched over. He felt so fat!
Roger stepped forward. He let the condoms and jelly drop to the floor, grabbed Mark and kissed him hard on the mouth. His hands splayed open across Mark's back, pressing him closer as he kissed, hot and desperate, whimpering into Mark's mouth and sucking his lip.
Roger was panting when he pulled away. He ran his hands across expanses of Mark's skin. He was not as pale as milk, but more the hue of butter, his arms dotted with freckles and dusted with fine, nearly invisible hairs. Roger felt his gut melt.
"You're beautiful."
Mark had been unable to look at Roger, but instead had his eyes fixed on a point above the door, his belly quivering with a desperate need to know that this pleased him.
"You're beautiful."
They were not the words Mark expected, but they certainly sufficed. Mark stepped back when Roger dropped to his knees. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"I'm sorry. Don't you--"
Mark shook his head. "I thought we'd just…" He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of the smoothed blanket. He held the handcuffs out to Roger.
"Oh. I didn't know you were into that." Roger took the handcuffs and fitted one around his wrist. "So, how do you want me?" he asked.
Mark shook his head. What was wrong with this man? "No," he said, freeing Roger's wrist and snapping the cuff onto his own. "Whatever you want, Roger." I just hope I can…
Roger shook his head. He didn't want to fuck Mark. He would not, could not dream of doing anything so crude and violent. The idea of Mark sucking his cock was thoroughly unapproachable. All Roger wanted was to make Mark happy.
He knelt on the floor, and that was when he noticed, hidden beneath the bed, a riding crop. Roger brought the crop out, staring at it, then he looked at Mark. "Um… Mark… do you, um... do you want to use this?" It was strange, clashing with Roger's image of Mark, but if that was what Mark wanted…
"No, I thought you might want to."
"Um... I don't... um..." Roger stopped, unable to speak. The thought of hurting Mark at all, even playfully, made him nauseous. "If you want," he forced himself to say. He leaned forward and kissed Mark, one hand pushing through his hair. "Mark gets whatever he wants," Roger said. And if what Mark wants is to be pushed around a little… I'll just have to get used to that.
"I don't want to be beaten," Mark said.
Roger hugged him. "No one will ever hurt you," he promised. "Now… about that sex?"
"Yeah. Whatever you want, Roger." Roger brought his head down to Mark's groin. "No-- you don't have to do that-- ooh." Mark groaned. "Oh, my… oh… Roger, where… where do you learn to…" He stopped speaking and began to gasp. The muscles in his back clenched, then loosened, and Mark felt his pelvis buck up towards Roger's mouth. Mark's stomach clenched. He began to rock, moaning with pleasure as Roger sucked and licked until Mark came.
Then Mark flopped back against the pillows. Roger spat into a towel and wiped his mouth before laying down beside him. "Did you like that?" he asked, trailing his fingers across Mark's chest.
Mark nodded. "It was very good," he said. "I can't believe I've never done that before."
"You've never sucked someone off?" Roger asked.
"Oh, no, that I-- yeah. Yeah, I've done that, but never had someone do it to me."
Roger smiled. "Well, any time you want, babe. And, you know, that thing with the handcuffs and the uh…" Roger cleared his throat "…whip, if that's what you're into, I'm willing to give it a shot."
Mark looked at Roger and grinned. "I think," he said, "what you're into is just fine."
To be continued!
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