Title: Kiss Me In August

Fandom: RENT

Pairing: Mark/Roger

Rating: G, basically, or K, whatever, nothing offensive.

Summary: Roger thinks about things. This is just something that came to me, take it or leave it. (One-Shot)

Disclaimer: I dont own RENT, it belongs to Jonathon Larson.

A/N I have a slightly offbeat and odd style of writing and conveying points, or whatever. You can

either like it or hate it.


The sun was shining when he kissed me. It was late August and the heat was like a scorching

blanket over the city. I was trying to write a song that Im still trying to write, now in December.

Mimi is dead, I held her hand while she died. It was last February then. He stood in the doorway

of the hospital room looking lost.

I dont remember much of the months that followed; I did not see spring change the color of the

sky from gray to pale blue, I missed the deep blue of early summer. I only remember August.

How did it happen? I dont know. How does anything happen, really? We cant know. It is an

unanswerable question, one that can only be responded to by posing yet another unanswerable

question. What is love? What is the meaning of this thing called life? What is death? I gave up

trying to answer these questions long ago.

This is it. Here, now. This is it, all we have. Thats what Mimi taught me.

I was closed off for those forgotten months that followed.

Part of me died with her. I blocked out everything, til I was deaf and mute and blind. I dont know

if I was insane, because I cant remember.

And then late July came, and I woke up. I felt strangely rested, like it had been the most relaxing,

wonderful sleep Ive ever had.

I walked out of my room, and I looked at the sky; I looked at the calender hanging on the bare

wall and thought, ''My god, was it really that long?''

And I was still alive, despite forgetting to take my AZT, despite everything that should have killed

me, I was there.

I was there, and so was he.

He said hello to me, as if I had been gone on a long trip.

And then things were good.

We used to sit on the couch and just talk. One night, the last night in July, he said to me ''You

know, you scared me to death''. He said that he could never sleep at night because he was so

scared that he would wake up and I would be dead. He said that sometimes I just lay there and I

looked dead. He also said that some nights he would crawl into bed beside me and just wrap his

arms around me and talk to me. And I told him that I didnt remember, and he replied that it was

fine; it was all fine now.

The next day was August, and that was the day he kissed me. We stood by the window, where

the sun streamed in and made patterns on the floor. And as he pressed his lips to mine, I felt a

song rush through me; I heard the words, but I could not understand what they meant, it was as

though the sunlight washing over us was whispering them in my ear.

And now it is December, and the sun does not shine as much, but he still kisses me, and whenever

he does, I hear the sun whispering to me again.