Part 9: I Seem To Be Having Tremendous Difficulty With My Lifestyle
Posted 8.29.02



Dessert was less than exciting. The dented cheesecake, coffee, tea, ice cream, milkshakes, cookies... His mother had gone all out, yet again.

"Ma, we really can't eat this much food," Mark insisted, elbowing Roger sharply in the side as he wolfed down a third bowl of ice cream. "Really." He was hoping that she would apologize, box some leftovers up and send them on their way. But with the way Roger was eating, they'd be stuck here for another three hours at least as she continued to throw food at them until his lover was satisfied.

As he reflected on that thought, he blushed slightly as he realized the only thing that would really satisfy Roger at this point couldn't be given to the musician by Mrs. Cohen. At least he bloody well hoped not.

"Oh, honey, Roger still seems hungry. Do you want anything else, Roger?"

"Yefff!" Roger exclaimed through a mouthful of cookie. Mark kicked him. Hard. "I meaf, no." Mrs. Cohen gave him a long look before standing up.

"You still look so thin. Why don't I pack you some food to go?" Both men nodded eagerly as Mrs. Cohen returned to the kitchen. Mark sighed.

"This is getting tedious," he muttered. Roger nodded in agreement, shoving the last piece of cheesecake down his throat.

"You two fuck buddies can run out and get a fix if you want," Cindy said with a sigh. They both stared at her, wide-eyed. "I'll cover for you. I swear. Just get going, you little perverts."

"But I'm not-" Roger started to protest as Mark dragged him to the living room. He wasn't a pervert! He really wasn't. He had been thinking about it very hard since Cindy had first used that term (well, as hard as Roger is able to think, that is) and it couldn't be true, really. Because... he thought about things other than sex! Like, during dessert, he wasn't thinking about sex. He was thinking about cheesecake. Granted, one of those cheesecake related thoughts involved strawberry sauce and Mark and an empty bedroom, but it was mostly the cheesecake!

Mark was on top of Roger, while all of this was happening. Possibly one of the only things that Roger could manage to do without devoting his full attention to it was make out with Mark. Possibly because he did it so often it was second nature. But still. Just because they snogged a little didn't mean that he was necessarily a pervert. And what about Mark? Mark was just as bad! Well, almost as bad. Well... sort of as bad. And it wasn't like he was raping Mark or something, he was totally willing and often times the instigator and...

"Mark?"

Mark looked up. "What?"

"Am I a pervert?" Mark rolled his eyes and continued to slide his hands up Roger's shirt and kiss his neck.

"This is an interesting time... for that conversation... Roger."

"Well, Cindy said I was! And... I don't think so."

"Well, is sex all you think about?"

"I don't know."

"Well, are you thinking about it now?"

Roger looked down at the filmmaker that was perched precariously on his lap, at their state of undress, and at the way his hand was down Mark's pants.

"No fair. That's cheating." And that was the end of the discussion, as they decided a more enjoyable way to pass the time involved very little speaking and a lot more kissing and groping.


Cindy was devious.

This was very obvious to her close friends and younger brother. They had seen her mind at work, seen the way that she could lure anyone into doing nearly anything. Her mother, however, seemed to have a natural blind spot for this behavior, much the way she had one for Mark and Roger's sexcapades that afternoon.

She was going to use one to undermine the other. It was only fair, of course. Because the name of the game was revenge today. Revenge for ninth grade and Bobby Wilson. Revenge for Terry Bueller and Tom Feldstein and David Cotton. Revenge for all of the times that Mark "accidentally" led her mother to discover she and her latest boyfriend shacked up in the basement or the backyard. Oh. He was going to pay.

"Well, I hope I've packed up enough for you boys to-" Mrs. Cohen came bustling back into the room and stopped abruptly upon seeing it empty, save for Cindy and her baby. "Oh my! Now, where could they have gone?"

"I think they went to wait in the living room, mom," Cindy said innocently, sipping her water. Mrs. Cohen placed the boxes on the table and opened the door to the other room.

"Boys, I boxed up some-" She stopped dead in her tracks.

Mark and Roger also stopped dead.

"Fuck," Mark muttered softly.

"Later," Roger replied. "I think we're kind of busy right now."

"I thought you said you were going to cover for us!" the filmmaker shouted at his sister.

"Whoops," she said dryly. "I forgot." Mark's mother looked at the half-naked men with a slight frown before rolling her eyes heavenward and shaking her head.

"Oh, you always were obsessed with your work, Mark!" she said with a laugh. "You don't have to keep sneaking out to practice for your play, but I would really prefer if you wait until you get home, just so we can get some quality time together."

It was too much.

It was really too much. Because it was ludicrous. Christ, he didn't think it was possible for someone to be that dense, let alone for that someone to be his mother.

Mark stood up, securing his pants around his waist and straightening his shirt.

"Mom, we're not in a play," he said firmly.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Linda replied, rolling her eyes. "A performance, like Maureen used to say. That's fine." Mark smacked his forehead.

"Mother. We are not in a play. We are not actors. We are lovers." There was a long pause as his mother tried to digest this information.

"Yes, Mark, I realize that in the show you are lovers, but really, you have to try and leave that persona at home for just a little-"

"We're having sex, mom! Roger and I are having sex! There is no play! It's me and Roger having sex because we like it!" Mrs. Cohen was silent.

"Does that mean..."

"I'm gay, ma!" he continued, flailing his arms in the air. "I'm gay! I'm fucking my best friend! And I like it! I'm a sparkly fairy boy! I'VE BEEN SLEEPING WITH ANOTHER MAN FOR TWO YEARS!!"

Silence.

"Oh."

Thunk.

Mrs. Cohen had fainted. Cindy picked up Samantha and walked into the living room.

"Well," she said dryly. "That was even more fun than I thought it would be."


To Be Concluded...

Get the Hang of Thursday...

E-mail Kait