|Ficathon #5 - Mistletoe
||[May. 20th, 2007|06:04 pm]
|||||'Louder Than Words' - tick, tick...BOOM!||]|
Written for: dicoapocalypse
Warnings: Mentions of character death
Disclaimer: Not mine. It all belongs to Jonathan Larson and the awesome actors.
Notes: "Louder Than Words" from tick, tick... BOOM!; Mark/Roger, unrequited
Summary: It was a supposed to be a simple kiss.
It starts with a kiss. A simple kiss. Mistletoe hung all over the building because Maureen wanted it that way. Yeah, it’s Maureen’s fault he can’t get the taste of Roger’s kiss out of his head. It’s all Maureen’s fault.
He’d forgotten the latest script he’d been shopping around and had rushed back to the loft. A knock on the door and Roger had meet him with the script in hand, bemused smile on his face which grew larger as he glanced up and arched an eyebrow. Mistletoe and fuck….
There’s a blush growing across his cheeks and he looks past Roger to see April sitting on the couch and grinning at him. He glares back at Roger. “You planned this!”
“Now Marky, it’s tradition and we need to follow tradition.”
“But-but I’m already late.”
“It’s just a kiss. A small one.”
The look he shoots between Roger and April gives a new definition to pissy and long suffering. He nods slowly and all he expects is a peck on the cheek but Roger, of course, has other plans.
He hauls him close and lays one on him. Wet and slick and just the right angle to make his toes curl. It’s not fair! You’re not supposed to do this to your best friend. When Roger lets him go, he’s panting and there’s this massive smirk on Roger’s face. He’d give anything to smack it off. Instead he squeaks out, “I g-gotta go…,” and dashes out the door.
That was five months before April died. It’s now a year later and Roger’s met Mimi who dragged him out of the house within days of their meeting. It’s not fair. He’d sat there and nursed Roger through the toughest time of his life and what does he get? …He’s his best friend and that’s all.
He should be happy and in a way he is. Everyone is finding happiness while he’s Mark, good, old dependable, Mark. Never changing, never needing, he’s the rock to everyone’s shifting sands but he no longer wants to be.
Everyone changes around him but he stays the same. He doesn’t change. He is the one everyone goes to for security until they’re willing to break out on their own. It’s not natural but this is the role he built for himself. He doesn’t have the place to rail against it. It’s where he’s safest. It’s the place where he should be because every time he’s tried to push out, he gets burned.
He tried. He tried with Maureen and look what it brought him. Dumped for Joanne and when all he needed was something, someone to show him he mattered. He leans back into the film he’s always working on. Shift one frame and mark another. There, perfect.
It’s safer amid reels of film and file footage of the sights he sees everyday. Exploration and temptation? Who needs it. He can catalogue it just as well as experience it. It’s the same thing in essence, right?
He’s Mark. With his film. Alone.