"A New Light" – A FanFictionby: Courtney

SUMMARY: This story focuses around the characters Mark Cohen and Roger Davis. If you are offended of the two as a couple, you will not like this fic so don't read it! If you are a fan of these two or if you are curious to see if you would be—read! ENJOY and please comment; I love to know what you think. Feel free to speak your mind, don't hold back! THANKS :D

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or story of RENT—but I wish I did! But they belong to the late genius, Jonathan Larson. This fic was made for entertainment purposes only!!

-March, 1990-

Mark started working for Buzzline again, realizing he needed the money desperately for him and his roommate, Roger. Roger had lost his second serious girlfriend, Mimi, a couple months prior to Mark's decision to go back to work. Roger had started using again in the hopes that it would help him get through her death. Being Roger's best friend, Mark found out about his habit right away and got him to stop. But it wasn't that simple; Roger now faced going through withdrawal which was even tougher on him than the drugs.

Mark and Roger sat in silence, listening to the wind whistling through the cracks in the apartment roof and walls. Tonight was a good night. Most nights, Roger would easily fly off the handle at anything Mark would say or do or even, imply. Roger glared at his so-called "friend" who sat beside him on the aged-brown, moth-eaten couch. Deep down he knew that Mark was just trying to help him, but the drugs had convinced him that he needed a hit.

"I'm going out," Roger said bluntly as he rose to his feet. Mark looked up from his coffee cup and at his best friend through his black framed, coke-bottle lenses.

"Oh no you're not," Mark said as he slammed the mug down on the short round coffee table that sat in the center of their aluminum apartment loft. Mark slowly and sternly rose to his feet. Mark looked Roger square in the eye, "We had a deal. I don't call and tell Collins about your 'situation'" Mark held up his hands to quote the air," and you don't go anywhere without me."

Roger stood his ground, "I'm a grown man; I can take care of myself."

"Oh yeah?" Was Mark's snickered response.

"Yeah," Roger debated, putting his hands on his hips, parting his black leather jacket.

"Alright," Mark said matter-of-factly. With anger growing in each scenario, Mark raged on, "Who helped you get over the loss of April? Who helped you get through withdrawal the FIRST time? Who SHOWERED you and put you to bed because you couldn't even stand up straight, 'cause you were high as hell or drunk off your ass? Shall I continue?" Mark was now right in front of Roger, shaking with anger.

Roger didn't have a response; he was too amazed at how bold Mark had been. Mark looked as though he were coming back to his senses. He got off his tiptoes and silently gazed up at his friend. He sighed heavily and put a kind hand on his friend's broad shoulder, "I'm sorry, Rog. I'm just frustrated." He brought his other hand to his head and looked down at the cracked, wooden floor.

Roger began to think about his actions throughout the past couple of weeks, they couldn't have been easy on Mark. After a moment, he spoke, "Nah, you have every right to be upset…It's just, I just….I need a….I want a…" His gravelly voice trailed off. "You've always been there for me and I guess I've kinda been taking our friendship for granted lately and I'm sorry," Roger croaked softly to his friend. Mark looked up from his focus on the ground to Roger's eyes and managed to reveal a small, half smile which said in itself that he had forgiven him. Roger noticed that his roommate's eyes had begun to swell, he was holding back tears. He silently returned Mark's smile in surrender and understanding.

Mark was suddenly overpowered by the moment shared between him and his roommate. It had seemed to conquer all his prior harsh thoughts and feelings. Mark felt himself lose control over his body's functions, as though someone else were controlling his every move and he had no say in what they did.

Roger felt his friend's grip on his shoulder start to move gradually toward his neck. Both men breathed heavily.

"Mark?" Roger asked gulping, nervously, "Mark. What are you doing? Stop it!" Roger took his own hand in attempts of trying to pull Mark's hand away from where it now lay.

Mark stroked the stubble on Roger's face as Roger tried to pull away. Mark pushed on further. He tried to pull Roger's face toward his own by cupping the back of Roger's head and neck with his right hand. Roger fought against Mark's hand with all the strength his neck had.

Mark was silent as he and Roger fought, both confused by the other of his intentions. Roger shoved Mark with a great deal of force, which caused Mark to fall backwards, nearly losing his balance.

Roger was bewildered as he stared at his roommate. "What the hell was that, Mark?" He stammered, while trying to catch his breath.

Mark didn't say anything. He regained his focus and began to walk toward Roger again.

"You stay away from me," was Roger's huffed response. It was too late, Mark was coming back. Short of breath, Roger still had a few inches on Mark and was stronger too. He easily got Mark into an uncomfortable wrestling-like position, tackling him to the ground.

Mark squirmed in his arms. Roger looked at him, still very puzzled. "Mark, I don't…you know we can't…you know I'm not…I thought you were…" Roger didn't understand, he thought that Mark was straight. All his life he had dated girls; true, it hadn't been many, but he had dated them none-the-less.

Mark began to blush a bright shade of pink as he lay still, breathing heavily, in Roger's strong grip. "Rog, I…" Mark spoke softly. "I've just…n-never seen you in this light b-before," he tried to get his arms back from Roger as he spoke, feeling the embarrassment burning his cheeks.

"And in what fuckin' light might that be?" Roger asked sternly. He was not surprised by Mark's response, yet he was still very confused by the whole situation. When Mark didn't respond, Roger sighed and spoke again, but with a calmer, more peaceful approach. "You tried to kiss me, man. I thought…I thought we were buddies."

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed it so far. Next chapter is already up! Please comment. THANKS!