Title: Say It
Word Count: 819
Disclaimer: Don't own a thing! Just borrowing.
Summary: Roger wants Mark to say something. Mark doesn't want to. Pre-Rent.
A/N: I was bored after an exam. This is the result. Yay?
“Say it!” Roger yelled.
“No!” Mark shouted back. Roger had Mark pinned underneath him on the couch. He held the smaller blond's wrists in a death grip above Mark's head. The filmmaker tried his best to free himself from his captor, but never really had a chance. He cursed silently and glared as Roger all but sat on his waist.
The taller blond smirked. “Come on, Marky,” he whispered, “Say it.” Mark narrowed his eyes.
“No.” He replied through clenched teeth. Now it was Roger's turn to narrow his eyes. The bleach blond lowered his head to his captive's, faces inches apart. They held each other's gaze, fiery sapphires meeting calm emeralds.
“Don't make me make you...” He warned huskily. Mark still glared defiantly, though his breathing became slightly irregular. Roger smiled wickedly as he eyed Mark with half lidded eyes. The filmmaker involuntarily shuddered under those emotional orbs. Roger lowered himself even closer to his friend.
Mark swallowed. “Roger, what are you do – !” He was cut off by the gasp that emitted from his own mouth. The musician had attached his lips to the younger's neck. He gently sucked and nipped at the soft skin, mentally smiling when he was rewarded with a moan for his efforts. The taller blond moved both of his captive's wrists into one of his hands as the other slowly glided across Mark's body. Mark shivered as a calloused hand grazed the skin above the waistline of his pants.
“R-roger...?” He managed to croak out. Roger bit Mark's ear, stopping any other form of a question before it started.
“Shh...” he cooed into Mark's ear. Mark moaned as Roger began to nibble his earlobe. “Say it, Marky.” He encouraged as his hands playfully teased the waistline of Mark's pants. Mark closed his eyes and bit his lip in defiance. Roger smiled slightly as his hand traveled farther down. His fingers lightly traced the bulge in Mark's pants, causing a cross between a moan and a whimper from the captive. With a sudden movement, Roger grasped Mark's erection, eliciting a gasp from the latter.
“Roger,” Mark whimpered, “please stop.” He managed in a quiet voice. His eyes opened and, although they were clouded with a light haze, peered up into Roger's with a clear and pleading gaze. Roger simply shook his head as he once again anchored his lips to Mark's neck. A calloused hand undid the material, slipped under it, and encircled the swollen member. Mark moaned loudly, squirming underneath Roger's heated touch and meaningful gaze.
Roger began to stroke Mark slowly, delighting in the way Mark's lips parted in breathless moans. His touch was fiery, torturing Mark to no end. The musician smirked as hips involuntarily bucked into his palm. He sped up the rhythm of his pumps. Mark's breathing became heavy and ragged. He clenched his fists and curled his toes. Just when he was about to climax, Roger ceased his moments. Mark whined in protest, begging and yearning for the contact again.
The musician shook his head. “Say it.” Roger commanded, though there was a slight plea in his voice. Mark thrashed against his captor but to no avail. He closed his eyes, determined to avoid the boy on top of him. “Mark.” Roger ran his free hand down the smaller's torso. The filmmaker whimpered. “All you have to do is say it, and it's over.” He gently rubbed the blue-eyed blond's chest. “Just say it.” He all but pleaded.
Mark released a shaky breath., eyes still closed. “I love you, Roger.” Mark uttered in a soft voice, barely audible. Roger let a genuine smile grace his lips as he started his actions once again. It wasn't long until he had Mark arching off the couch, crying out his name. Roger watched as Mark slowly came down from his high, his chest rising and falling softly. His eyes remained closed, never opening them since he spoke those four little words.
Releasing the younger's wrists, Roger gently rested his forehead against Mark's. The younger tensed a bit at the contact. The musician grinned. “See? It wasn't so bad to admit it.” He kissed Mark's cheek. Mark opened his eyes in surprise.
“You mean,” he spoke slowly, carefully, “you're okay with it?” Mark looked at Roger with a faint gleam of hope in his eyes. Roger laughed as he ruffled Mark's hair.
“For someone as smart as you are,” he kissed Mark's other cheek, “you sure are dumb.” The musician grinned as a light blush crossed the filmmaker's cheeks. “So now what?” He asked after a moment.
Mark sent a playful glare at the rocker. Then he smirked and pulled Roger in for a passionate kiss. After the need for air became too great, they broke away. Mark smiled. “I think that from now on I should destroy all notes I have from Maureen.” Throwing his head back, Roger laughed.