TRES! 3/7

[bluetears07]

Title: A Little Business
Author: Bluetears07
Pairing: Mark/Roger
Rating: R
Summary: Maybe if Mark had followed his parents wishes and studied business, things would have been so much easier. Well, maybe.
Notes: Originally attempt for Speed_rent (Challenge: a character has the chance to go back in time and change one thing. How present change as a result?)…little poetic lisence, nothing dramatic, just info you can’t 100% get from the play. I’m a little nervous now, I hope I don’t mess up everything good about this story with this installment. Oh, bit of Angel/Collins thrown in!
Disclaimer: Don’t own, not my characters.

A Little Business

Mark didn’t even have a chance.

Caught up in a rather pleasant daydream about all the possible ways he could put Roger’s tongue ring towards a much more practical use, he didn’t hear the door swing open accompanied by the angry stomp of spindly stilettos embedding in the thick carpet lining his office.

“What did you do to him?” the accusatory voice of his secretary was closely followed by the harsh slam of his office door. He could almost hear the wood splintering as it shuttered to a halt, colliding with the doorframe. She stood with her hands planted firmly on her hips, staring her flustered boss down. Mark’s secretary was probably the only woman, or human being, who could give Mark a level glare, one that left no room for protest to the impromptu interrogation he was about to be subject to. However, that might simply be a testament to their previous relationship. A short-lived grin played on her lips as she watched him frantically swing his legs off of his desk, knocking over several files in the process. Ignoring the clatter she continued to watch him, sucking on her teeth she moved her head in an agitated way indicating that she was waiting for an answer, and that it better be a damn good one.

“Wha-who?” Mark began babbling. A deep flush had already been rolling up the back of his neck, staining his pale skin with a soft pink glow. Now the odd blush had increased tenfold, burning his cheeks as he began fiddling with the suddenly too tight collar of his dress shirt. For a moment he debated picking up the fallen folders but, taking a second look at his secretary thought better of it. Instead, he bit back an agonizing groan as he shifted self-consciously in his chair, sliding his chair further beneath the desk to hide the slight tenting of his khakis. The hard pressure of the heel of his hand digging into his thigh muscle diverted the downward rush of blood pumping in his veins. Sighing in relief, he glanced back up at his secretary.

“Who?” she repeated, her tone thick with contempt. Her voice had a breathy quality, sounding almost on the verge of laughter, as if she couldn’t believe her boss did not know exactly who she was talking about. “Roger,” she said curtly, motioning frantically towards the office door where Mark assumed Roger must be.

“What about him?” Mark asked, confusion written all over his face, heart thudding anxiously against his sternum. Suddenly it registered in Mark’s mind that he had not seen Roger since leaving the rundown loft to change into fresh clothing at his own apartment several hours ago. An odd panic begun to set in, buzzing anxiously along the length of his spine. For a moment his secretary was taken aback by the rather obvious emotion playing with her bosses usually stoic face. His whole demeanor was throwing her for a loop; apparently Mark Cohen was actually capable of displaying an emotion other than smugness or scorn. “He’s alright, isn’t he?” Mark asked hesitantly, moving the fraction of an inch to look around his secretary, forgetting for a moment that the door was closed, hoping to catch a glimpse of Roger.

“Actually, no,” she replied, her body becoming rigid and her movements jagged and disorienting. Too caught up in her own tirade she missed the expression of sheer alarm flash across Mark’s face. By her reasoning, the poor boy had done nothing truly egregious against their boss. Maybe Roger had caught Mark a few times at his own game of snide comments but nothing that would entail Roger resorting to hovering nervously outside Mark’s office. Taking a step closer to Mark’s desk she lowered her voice, but still managed to maintain the harsh undertone. “He’s been hanging around my desk ever since he came in this morning,” a silent rage, seething beneath her words and ignited by the flicker of aggression in her wide darkened eyes. “I thought he was just waiting for your meeting to be over so he could go into your office but it’s been almost two hours since that band manager left,” the sound of metal colliding with the garnished wood of his desk punctuated her final words. She took a deep steadying breath before asking her initial question one more time hoping for an actual answer. “So I repeat, what did you do to him?”

“I didn’t do anything to him, Maureen,” his lips moved slowly, wrapping his mouth carefully around every word while Maureen focused on the impish glint swimming around somewhere in the depths of his eyes, buried beneath the cold edge. It is and odd and unsettling thing, the way his eyes soften just a bit, imploring her not to go any further with the topic. Lacing his fingers together, laying them casually on the desktop he leaned forward waiting for her to back down.

“Oh yeah, sure,” she answered back, making a face and rolling her eyes but taking a step back nonetheless, conceding to his request.

“Would you send him in?” Mark asked calmly, pursing his lips. A silent battle of wills took place for a fraction of a second while Maureen debated whether or not she should feed poor Roger to the lions. She heaved a reluctant sigh and turned, too bad, Roger was kind of cute.

“Roger, your presence has been requested,” Maureen called, throwing open the door, giving it a little kick with her heel for dramatic show. On the other side Roger sat swiveling around slowly in Maureen’s chair chewing at the dull fingernail of his thumb and staring apprehensively at the now open door. He immediately jumped up out of the chair, sending it slamming backwards into the woman’s desk before it bounced back to bump him in the back of the knees. Stumbling forward, he gave Maureen a cutting look as she walked out of the office. The two of them began to argue agitatedly, all frantic gestures, a few vulgar, being exchanged between the two. A few choice words flying back and forth, but Mark was too far away to hear anything specific. He watched as Maureen caught Roger’s flitting hands and pulled him close, whispering something to Roger with a level of seriousness that was usually reserved only for dealing with him—on a very bad day. Suddenly Roger slapped Maureen’s hands away from his wrists and she jumped out of his way.

There was an odd pause as soon as Roger crossed the threshold into Mark’s office. Well, at least Roger hadn’t called him Mr. Cohen, feigning an expectant look as if he had now clue what their little chitchat was going to be about. The young man’s hand was caught gripping the round doorknob as if it where his only lifeline, skin stretched taut over bony knuckles to turn the skin a shocking white color that nearly matched the surprisingly pristine color of his cotton button-down. Standing inside the office Roger tugged the door back and forth with a questioning look, silently asking Mark whether or not he should close it. The only answer he received was an extremely annoyed look from Mark, his face twisted in a pained expression that meant the choice was an obvious one, especially with the vulture Maureen sitting on pins and needles outside the office waiting for the verdict.

Roger quietly shut the door behind him.

Taking his time, any chance to stall the inevitable, Roger crossed the short distance from the doorway to the comfortable chairs set up in front of the desk for clients. For several minutes Mark watched as Roger leaned back in the chair, fiddling with a resilient crease in the fold of his dress pants. He ran his fingertips over the wrinkle repeatedly but somehow never managing to fix the flaw. Roger’s every mannerism; every idiosyncrasy that Mark had been picking up on all month seemed inexorably amplified. While it was rather interesting to watch him it was also unbelievably painful.

Mark’s mind was itching for someway to capture the man’s conduct, so utterly human and beautiful.

“Rog-” Mark began speaking, just as Roger opened his mouth to explain his odd behavior.

“When you left this morning I wasn’t sure, I mean,” pausing, he began fiddling with a silver band wrapped around his thumb. Spinning the ring, directing all his attention on the object he refused to look at Mark’s face as he searched for the correct words. “I don’t want to assume anything,” he said as he met Mark’s gaze, a new air of confidence surrounding his words, almost daring Mark to deny him.

“So you thought hiding from me would be the best way to figure out if there’s something going on between us?” Mark asked in the same cutting tone he had used a thousand times before when dealing with Roger. Turning his chair he slipped out from behind his desk. Pale fingers wrapped around the dark frames of his glasses as he tugged them off. “I can’t say that would be my exact plan of action, but to each his own,” he continued petulantly, walking around to stand before Roger, leaning back against the edge of his desk. Mark gingerly placed the folded glasses behind him before turning to look at Roger with a caustic grin.

“I’m choosing to ignore that,” Roger replied casually, folding his arms across his chest and staring at Mark with the beginnings of a knowing smile curbing his words. Crossing one long leg over the other, Roger continued “Going to chalk it up to you being freaked out of your mind that you might actually want to have a relationship with an ex-junkie from the wrong side of Park Avenue,” his smile was now almost full force and lighting up the sparks of bright green in his eyes.

Roger could almost hear the various gears and cogs clanking along in Mark’s head as the young man turned over the perceptive remark. There were several ways he could react, majority of them were of the particular brand that didn’t inevitably leading to more mind-blowing sex with Roger. But there was one, and if Mark was honest with himself it was the one that had instantly come to mind—anyone who could caught him in such an obvious deflection was very much deserving of both his time and lavish affection. But as he thought to himself a nearly uncomfortable silence settled between the two. Roger almost began to second-guess himself; perhaps it wasn’t best to fight fire with fire. Maybe he had been wrong about the whole thing, maybe he was just a one-night stand. However, before he had the chance to recant his statement, Mark allowed a few quiet words to swallow up the awkward air circulating between them.

“Well then,” he began with a very nonchalant demeanor that actually made Roger sit up and listen carefully. Two ways he could go. “I don’t think you’ll be too adverse to coming over to the ‘right side’ for dinner at my apartment tonight,” his voice was calm, giving away nothing in its bland tone. But Roger caught the flicker of open hope rising to the surface within Mark, as if he thought there might be a chance of rejection.

“I thought,” Roger faltered for a moment, his mind still trying to wrap around the concept of Mark opening up to him. “What about your roommate? Won’t he, ya know, freak…?”

“He’s got a ‘hot date,’” Mark replied with a leer, cocking an eyebrow and tilting his head.

“Too bad he’s the only one,” Roger deadpanned.

“Ouch!” Mark gasped with a playful half grin as he leaned forward, his bright blue eyes wide open. Pressing his hand against Roger’s chest he could feel the heat radiating off the other boy’s body, bleeding through the cool cotton fabric of his button-down. His fingers wandered over to the gaudy tie laced around Roger’s neck, slipping the course fabric between his fingers before giving the hideous accessory a gentle tug. It had the desired affect, dragging Roger closer until their lips met in a soft kiss. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

+++++++++++++++

Dinner was nothing fancy, just Mark attempting to demonstrate his abilities with a pot of boiling water, noodles and overpriced organic red sauce. However, he did have very good and very old, expensive red wine to go with the less than stellar spaghetti he had fixed. He would have to make up some excuse to tell his roommate why he had broken open the bottle of wine Benny’s father sent Benny for graduation. Mark had debated it all afternoon but decided to go with a single candle lit in the center of the table. The little lump of wax earned Mark a snide, “who knew the emotionless boy wonder of advertising could be so romantic?” followed by an appreciative kiss. Over dinner they talked about Mark’s childhood, how he started working at AgencySacks, and his connection to Collins. After Roger wolfed down a second plate while Mark nibbled on a piece of garlic bread they ended in the living room. Or rather, Mark ended up on the couch while Roger looked around curiously.

“This is a really nice apartment, Mark,” Roger murmured, walking slowly around the perimeter of the small living room. A part of him felt almost dirty by simply being in an advertiser’s wet dream of an apartment. Nearly everything was brand name, right down to the Pottery Barn coasters stacked neatly on the glass coffee table. Not to mention the fact the entire apartment smelled like some unholy concoction of Lysol and Febreeze, every once in a while punctuated by Mark’s cologne and aftershave. Running his fingertips over all of the expensive furnishings that decorated the apartment, taking in every extravagant decoration and knickknack Mark had been collecting over the years. One of the most interesting pieces was a strip of film hung up in a frame. Looking at the copper plaque he discovered that the film was part of a movie called Nanook of The North, and it had been directed by someone named Flaherty. He paused to look back at Mark who was seated on the plush sofa with his half empty glass of wine.

“I couldn’t afford it on my own, remember I have a roommate,” Mark said, not noticing where Roger had stopped to admire the piece of film documentary history tacked up on his wall. It was an odd statement for him to make, something in his voice almost verging on guilt mingling with, what, modesty?

Perish the thought.

“Who is conveniently gone for the night,” Roger said with a smile, tearing himself away from the telltale signs of the old Mark, out on display but behind a layer of protective glass. He crossed the living room in a few quick steps, sinking on to the sofa and straddling Mark’s hips, knees pushing into the soft leather cushions in a wholly blissful form of comfort Roger wasn’t used to. Wrapping his arms around Mark’s neck he captured the other man’s lips in a slow burning kiss. Long fingers wound themselves through naturally bright blond hair, tugging insistently at the back of his head to deepen the kiss. The warm metallic tang of Roger’s tongue stud slide into his mouth as he pressed his hands against the other man’s face.

“Mmmhmm,” Mark moan as Roger nipped at his lower lips, laving the swollen flesh gently with his tongue before pulling away. “With his debutant,” he said distractedly running his thumb over Roger’s parted lips. A pink tongue slipped out to lick teasingly at Mark’s thumb.

“Charming,” Roger sneered as his fingers moved to the infuriatingly small buttons of Mark’s shirt, working them open slowly to reveal pale skin flushed with a healthy glow of arousal.

“Don’t knock it, Rog,” Mark said, his hand falling away from Roger’s face as he tilted his head back as wet lips and blunt teeth found his collarbone. His hands settled on the worn fabric of Roger’s plaid pants, finding the material insanely soft and very thin after thousands of rinse cycles. The young man had changed out of the disgusting corporate cloths before coming over that evening. It was interesting to see the stares he got from the people inside the foyer of Mark’s apartment building, all wondering what in the hell a ragamuffin like him was doing in an upscale residence. “If he gets another date you’ll get to sleep in a place that actually has heat and warm running water,” a promise of more to come.

“Warm water! Shower sex, Marky,” Roger replied in a falsetto, bouncing on Mark’s lap in a wholly inappropriate way. The dull green of his eyes gave way to a brilliant color Mark felt himself falling head first into, swallowing him up on all sides. And he wasn’t exactly adverse to the loss of total control, it he was yielding to Roger. “Mmmmh, I can’t wait to be fucked into a soft mattress with a nice headboard,” he mused, eyes sliding shut in a nearly orgasmic expression.

“Such a debauched boy,” barely above a whisper.

“You love it.”

“Well a little kink never really hurt anyone,” Mark said, his voice wavering as it nearly broke on the word ‘kink’ as he felt Roger yanking the tails of his shirt out of his pants as he finished unbuttoning the top. Something light up in Roger as he paused to let the fabric lay against Mark’s flushed skin instead of being torn off his body like the previous night.

“Speaking of,” and suddenly the solid warmth was gone from Mark’s lap. He had to control himself from whining at the loss of contact, maintain at least some level of his skewed dignity.

“Rog—where are you going?” Mark asked halfheartedly as he slowly, and rather painfully, stood up to follow Roger. He found the young man in his bedroom tossing clothing every which way obviously looking for something. A few things were strewn about the floor that Mark knew for a fact were supposed to be kept beneath his bed strictly at all times. Seated on the carpeted floor, Roger was looking through the mass of shoeboxes lining the bottom of Mark’s closet. “Umm, what are you doing?” he asked dumbly as Roger huffed in frustration, holding a shoe in one hand and a torn up, rather well loved porn magazine in the other.

“Mark, I’m ashamed of you,” he said flatly, looking up at Mark standing in the doorway and shaking his head disapprovingly. For a second Mark just stared at Roger perplexed, almost on the brink of allowing a ‘huh?’ slip from his lips. “No leather and no handcuffs,” Roger sighed again, tossing the shoe back into its box, but not letting go of the porn.

“My last girlfriend took them with her,” Mark supplied lamely, sitting down on the foot of his bed.

“I’m sure she did,” Roger replied with a disbelieving smile, hitting Mark’s shin with the rolled up porn. Turing back to the closet to examine at what he had to work with. “Oh well, I guess we can use a few of your many ties,” Roger said standing up and fingering the score of ties dangling from the intricate brass tie rack nailed to the inside of Mark’s closet door. With a coy look over the shoulder Roger was surprised to see the disturbed look on Mark’s face.

“No, Roger they’re silk,” he warned, his voice a little lower than normal, cautioning the other man that he was taking his own life into his hands if he even thought about putting any one of his ties at risk. “I’m not getting sweat, lube, come or any other nasty fluid on them,” Mark listed off on his fingers, effectively killing all joy in Roger’s face, thinking he had found a possible solution.

“Alright,” Roger said, looking around the room. Hidden just beneath the hem of the bedspread was a mass of dark blue and white knitted fabric. He must have dislodged it when he was pulling things out from under the bed. Dropping to his knees again, Roger crawled over to where the object lay. As he hooked his fingers in one of the larger holes he held the scarf out where Mark could see. “How about this?” he suggested.

“Oh no, put that back where you found it,” Mark said, eyes wide as Roger moved to kneel before him with the scarf.

“What’s the matter with it?” Roger asked earnestly, running the scarf through his fingers. The yarn that had been used to make the garment was extremely soft and he could just image how wonderful it felt to be bundled up in during a cold day. “It’s cute,” he purred, tossing the scarf around Mark’s neck, wrapping around him once before leaving the knitted fabric to lie softly against the dark suit coat. Fingering the tassels at the end he admired how the single item threw an entirely new spin on the young man. Something homemade, off brand, actually not even a brand. It looked far more natural wound about Mark’s throat than a tie ever did.

“My mother made it,” Mark mumbled pulling the scarf from his neck.

“Marky has Mommy issues? Guess it would explain quite a lot.”

“Shut it or I’m not lashing you to my nice headboard,” he warned, looping the scarf around Roger’s wrists.

+++++++++++++++

“Hey Col—shit did I wake you up?” Mark winced as he realized that maybe other, saner people weren’t up at some ungodly hour at night. Gently closing the bedroom door behind him, blocking out the quiet sounds of Roger’s gentle snoring, Mark clutched the cordless phone as he flicked on the bathroom light.

“No, no, nope, well yes,” Collins said rapid fire as he blinked several times trying to wake himself up. Pushing down the urge to tell the young man off, Collins continued with an understanding, “but you obviously must have a reason for calling at.” Pausing, Collins rolled over to squint through the dark. The illuminated numbers of his clock took shape and his mouth fell open. “Shit, boy, it’s five in the morning,” he whispered in disbelief, a slight undercurrent of laughter lacing his words as he rolled into a sitting position. The body that had been lying contentedly beside him felt the bed shift and Mark heard the rustling through the phone.

“Guapo, que pasa?” a faint voice spoke in sleepy Spanish from somewhere in the background.

“Shhh, go back to sleep Angel,” Collins voice dropped several octaves lower as he whispered to whoever had spoken. There was a warmth in his tone that, along with the naturally calming quality, would likely lull anyone to sleep.

“Do you have someone over there?”

“As a matter a fact I do, Mark,” Collins said and Mark could hear the bright smile on the man’s lips as he spoke. “Actually I just met her and I’m trying to make a good impression,” he added, hoping Mark would catch the implied, “and I want to get back to post coitus bliss so make it quick.”

“Sor—her?”

“Trans, Mark,” Collins explained shifting around to look at Angel curled up, fingers laced together beneath her head. “Think about it.”

“Oh,” Mark said, his mind still running a little slow sleep deprived after spending the evening with a bound Roger to play with. “Oh! I’m so sorry, it’s just, I, I.”

“And the stuttering begins,” his voice still managed to have a good-natured ring that Mark was thankful for, otherwise he wouldn’t have called to confide in the other man. “I’ll be right back,” he heard Collins whispered to Angel.

“M’kay,” she murmured, voice thick with sleep.

“Okay tell Collins what’s gotten your panties all a-twist,” he said after a few minutes of silence while Collins stumbled through the dark into the loft’s kitchenette.

“It’s Roger,” Mark started, shredding a poor piece of toilet paper as he racked his brain for a concrete way to express the odd bubbling over sensation that had begun to consume him. “He, and I, we,” he tried, grasping onto any flyby word that popped into his head.

“Sentences, Mark, please.”

“When I’m with him I feel different, funny,” he finally got out. “It’s not like a stupid ha-ha funny, but rather like a good type of funny, like disgusting warm fuzzies and shit like that,” he continued in the same breath.

“Mark,” Collins said, using the same calming voice to instruct the young man to take a deep breath.

“Sorry. I feel like I’m back in fucking college and there are a million ideas racing through my head but I can’t seem to write them all down fast enough,” the toilet paper was now being tore the opposite direction, becoming tiny squares of flimsy paper. “I feel capable, I feel alive,” his voice was steadily becoming more and more solid, as if his own conviction was growing right along side it. “It’s fucking freaking me out, Col,” and then it broke.

“Congrats, you’re in love, you’re inspired, you’ve blossomed—only a few years late. Do I have permission to go back to my waiting Angel now?”

+++++++++++++++

“Oh please,” Mark whined as soon as he saw Roger turning up the collar of his button-down to slip his old tie into place. The gaudy one with sunburst against a dark blue background that had turned out to be some attempt at paisley. A shiver ran up Mark’s spine, so unbelievably tacky and childish. “Please, Rog, no,” he tried to reason with him, covering Roger’s hands with his own. The other man stopped, looking at Mark with a confused expression. Shoulders tense he tried to search Mark’s eyes to find out what exactly he had done wrong now. “Not that damn tie again.”

“Mark,” his shoulders slumped and a breath he had been holding poured from his lips in a heavy sigh.

“Here,” Mark said distractedly as he opened his closet door and started rooting around in his tie rack for one that he believed would suit Roger. “You can wear one of mine,” he extracted a deep green silk tie from the mass of silk. Despite the bubble of disgust welling up inside Roger he had to admire the way Mark was so organized. A skill he hoped Mark could maybe help him with. “In fact,” Mark began with a smile, smoothing out the fine silk with the palm of his hand before wrapping it skillfully around Roger’s throat in a single fluid motion. “Keep it,” he grinned before looking up at Roger’s face to be greeted with a grimace.

“The corporate noose,” Roger mumbled dramatically as Mark tightened the knot, pushing it further up to fit snuggly against the young man’s buttoned collar.

“Awww, but it brings out the color in your eyes ever so beautifully,” he teased using the same falsetto Roger had been rather fond of the night before. However, the color match was the only reason Mark had decided on the green for Roger. Pressing a kiss against Roger’s lips he felt the other man’s hands settle on his hipbones. The expensive fabric of his ironed slacks was becoming wrinkled as his fingers twisted in the material. Debating whether or not he could deal with a messy appearance in exchange for a quick blowjob, Mark decided they would probably get carried away and miss the subway. “C’mon,” he grabbed Roger’s hand, twining their fingers together in a loose hold. Leading him out of the room and into the kitchenette area to grab some coffee before they he heard the sound of cups clattering onto faux marble countertops.

Benny, shit.

Mark dropped Roger’s hand.

“Hey Mark,” Benny called as he heard his roommate moving about the apartment. “Is this coffee new or ol—” he glanced up as he heard Mark’s shoes hitting against the tile of the kitchenette in time to see the two men. “Oh, I didn’t know you had a business associate over,” Benny said, his entire demeanor changing—definitely not the type of person who would yell across an apartment to his roommate. He extended his hand for Roger to reluctantly shake, a huge open smile.

“Benny, this is Roger, he’s my assistant at the moment,” Mark said smoothly, motioning to Roger before turning to the countertop to grab two disposable paper cups. “Roger, this is my roommate Benny,” he said over his shoulder, nodding needlessly towards Benny as he filled the cups and added cream and sugar to his own while leaving Roger’s black.

“Nice tie,” Benny said offhandedly, motioning towards the tie Mark had chosen for him while Mark secured the lids on the coffee cups. Mark nearly spilled the cup he was working on has he heard Roger’s replied, just imagining the clenched jaw and a through-his-teeth smile that he was most likely flashing Benny.

“Thanks,” Roger replied shortly, refusing to look over at a very self-satisfied Mark.

“Actually, Benny, we were just leaving,” Mark said, handing Roger his coffee and heading towards the front door without another word to his roommate.

“Bye, hope to see you again, Roger,” Benny said sincerely.

“Ditto,” Roger shot back with a beautiful fake smile that practically dripped with venom as he slammed the door behind him. Walking down the short hall to the elevator, Mark took a hesitant sip from the steaming cup as he thumbed the button. A second after hitting the button the chime went off and the thick metal doors slid open to reveal an empty compartment.

“Don’t say anything,” Roger said, tight lipped and staring straight ahead as the couple stepped onto the elevator.

“Wasn’t going to,” Mark replied with a haughty grin, twisted by a playful tinge as he glanced at Roger’s reflection in the elevator doors.

+++++++++++++++
AN: It’s a beast, I swear! Hope I can wrap it up in the next part. Oh and Nanook of The North is a real film that is credited as being the beginning of documentary filmmaking.

Comments

[lp-drumline7.livejournal.com]

Oh, man, I just love this story more and more with every chapter. To be honest, I wasn't so enthralled by the first one, but as I keep on reading, it's blossoming so awesomely as a story, and now it's one of my favorites :D I love your Mark, your Roger, your Benny, your.. Gah! I just love it all ^^; And I love that your mood theme is totally Jared Leto >>; He's a pretty boy, mmhmm.

[linaynay247.livejournal.com]

Lol, I saw part of Nanook of the North in a film class I took last year. Oh, and great job on the story! I love it so much... *is excited for Rent coming here*

[slant-truth.livejournal.com]

This is still great. Maureen as the secretary was a nice touch that I didn't see coming, and Collins was perfect. Also, yay for Sleepy!Angel. Extremely adorable. Can't wait for the last part.

[qahtte.livejournal.com]

were several ways he could react, majority of them were of the particular brand that didn’t inevitably leading to more mind-blowing sex with Roger.

That line made me giggle outloud. Also, Maureen was awesome, and the fact that you put Angel in made me happy. An-and Benny, and Naonook of the North, and wow. I'll just settle with "I love this story".

[moowithme1989.livejournal.com]

“I didn’t do anything to him, Maureen,”
I almost gagged from laughing when I saw this line. You fucked them all up, didn't you?

This story keeps getting better and better... Collins phone conversation- the last line was spot- on. CONTINUE OR I KEEL YOU

[blank-stares.livejournal.com]

aw. i still love this. i reviewed over on ff.net (i'm rexmanningdays there) and this chapter was great.
I changed my mind, I love this Mark/Roger relationship and I wouldn't even mind it if you kept it AU and made RENT the dream.

I just love the relationship you set up with them, and it's nice to see Roger being the submissive one for once. Also, suit&tie!Mark is actually hot. I like his smug cockiness and I love that it keeps Roger on his toes.

The little surprise with Maureen was cute and it totally fit. I'm also glad that Angel and Collins are destined.

I loved the boys banter and the fact that Roger is almost Mimi-ish in how he seduces and banters with Mark on the couch.

I liked the re-emergence of spastic Mark and the idea that Roger is bringing that out in him. The visual of Roger when Maureen opened the door was adorable and I really like how you set up scenes and the imagery is fantastic and clear.

The dialogue is spot-on and really sets an anticipatory tone.

Aw, the scarf. Slowly turning back into the Mark we all know and love.

I'm glad Benny wasn't an outright dick to Roger. Benny isn't a bad person.

So yes yes, I love this a lot, and I really hope you change your mind and continue this for as long as possible.

Can't wait for the next part. :)

[rainbows-n-bulk.livejournal.com]

The only thing that I hate is that its gonna end soon. As much as I usually hate things that are AU, I LOVE this story.

[gildedmuse.livejournal.com]

You have a good story arch here, and I'm going to have to agree with everyone else that you should not stop so soon. I love the secen with the Benny and Mark and Roger interaction. Also, the phone call to Collins? Brilliant, with Collins and Angel being spot on. Much love for that.

[silverotter.livejournal.com]

*does the happy dance* God, I love this story. Like, a lot. More, more, more!

[nini-darko.livejournal.com]

I really love this story. I was really excited when you pushed it from 2 chapters to three, and now I'm thrilled that there is atleast one more chapter coming. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want it to keep going for a while.

I love the realness of the boys and the situation, even the conversations, the akwardness, the tension, and then the sweet moments have such a strong sense of reality.

Can't wait for more

[pressdbtwnpages.livejournal.com]

MAUREEN! I clapped. I swear to God, I burst into applause at the appearance of Maureen. And Angel made me squee.

Love, love, love this!