Icarus, Rent, Mark/Roger, PG
Title: Icarus
Fandom: Rent
Pairing: Mark/Roger
Rating: PG
Word Count: 367
Notes: For letter_love. And because I owe holycitygirl about 83,423 fics by now.
There are no good days. There are days with good news and days they wish they never have to go through again. There are days when Mark calls his mom, nearly in tears, asking what he should do because he can’t fight the instinct that mothers always have the answers no matter how many times she’s let him down. There are days when Roger wakes with a smile, adamantly insists that he doesn’t need the sweatshirt Mark tries to force on him before they go out, and sets a pace that’s almost twice the speed of Mark’s, who’s been forcing himself to slow down as they wander the streets so Roger can keep up. There are bad days, and there are better days, but none of them are good.
Each day that Roger awakes and feels good enough to actually say it out loud is still laced with fear. It is always one of the things that Mark worries about the most and always silently because how could he ever tell Roger to stop enjoying his brief bouts of health, to stop pushing his limits, to stop living because one of these days he’s going to push too far.
They’d seen Collins, who even at his worst had never given off the impression of being sick, take on extra classes during the day and wreak havoc by night only to push himself straight into a hospital bed. They’d stay by his side with Maureen after he returned from Greece, the oxygen mask pinching his paling face as the doctors insisted that he had to slow down, not live off beer and no sleep in Europe.
“Everyone says you can still lead a normal life. Normal for a fucking monk. It’s all bullshit, isn’t it?” Roger ranted later that night.
Every good day is tainted with the fear that this is the day that Roger tastes that invincibility he once felt years ago when he was on the precipice of having everything, the day that Roger feels good enough to live just a bit too much and dooms himself, trying to fly when he can barely walk.
There are no good days. Just another day they both survive.
Fandom: Rent
Pairing: Mark/Roger
Rating: PG
Word Count: 367
Notes: For letter_love. And because I owe holycitygirl about 83,423 fics by now.
There are no good days. There are days with good news and days they wish they never have to go through again. There are days when Mark calls his mom, nearly in tears, asking what he should do because he can’t fight the instinct that mothers always have the answers no matter how many times she’s let him down. There are days when Roger wakes with a smile, adamantly insists that he doesn’t need the sweatshirt Mark tries to force on him before they go out, and sets a pace that’s almost twice the speed of Mark’s, who’s been forcing himself to slow down as they wander the streets so Roger can keep up. There are bad days, and there are better days, but none of them are good.
Each day that Roger awakes and feels good enough to actually say it out loud is still laced with fear. It is always one of the things that Mark worries about the most and always silently because how could he ever tell Roger to stop enjoying his brief bouts of health, to stop pushing his limits, to stop living because one of these days he’s going to push too far.
They’d seen Collins, who even at his worst had never given off the impression of being sick, take on extra classes during the day and wreak havoc by night only to push himself straight into a hospital bed. They’d stay by his side with Maureen after he returned from Greece, the oxygen mask pinching his paling face as the doctors insisted that he had to slow down, not live off beer and no sleep in Europe.
“Everyone says you can still lead a normal life. Normal for a fucking monk. It’s all bullshit, isn’t it?” Roger ranted later that night.
Every good day is tainted with the fear that this is the day that Roger tastes that invincibility he once felt years ago when he was on the precipice of having everything, the day that Roger feels good enough to live just a bit too much and dooms himself, trying to fly when he can barely walk.
There are no good days. Just another day they both survive.