"Marky…" Roger called. He waited until the blond filmmaker's figure appeared at the balcony. Mark's eyes lit up noticeably, even from where Roger was standing, when he saw it was his roommate. "What? You lost your keys again?" Roger gestured with his head to the large package he was holding. "My arms are kinda full. Get the door for me?"

He disappeared from view and moments later, Roger could hear his footsteps come running down the stairs. The front door opened and the songwriter got a clear view of him for the first time in a week. He set down his bundle and slammed into Mark, arms encircling his slender waist and tongue pushing its way between the other's lips. "I missed you, sexy," came the mumbled explanation. Mark grinned through the kiss. "Missed me or the fucking?" Roger won the battle for mouth dominance and pulled away, smirking wickedly. "Both. Let's go." He picked up his parcel and Mark held the door open for him.

As soon as they had entered the loft and the parcel was set down, Roger was on top of Mark again, clenching his fingers in the short blond hair, pulling them closer together. This time, Mark fought back. Their tongues wound their way around each other's, twisting, exploring. When they finally broke apart, Mark raised an eyebrow. "Gotten weak while you've been gone. You haven't been practicing?" Roger retorted, "In my dreams. And unless you were stalking me, no, I couldn't have."

"Touché. What'd you bring home?"

"It's a gift for you." Roger suddenly became obsessed with his cigarette lighter, bouncing lightly from one foot to the other.

"Is my little Rogy nervous or embarrassed? Oh my god, ladies and gentlemen, world breaking news! Roger Davis is blushing!"

"Shut up and open your present before I'm tempted to rape you."

Mark could not fully conceal his excitement at receiving a gift. Sixteen years seemed to fall away and it was seven year old Mark who approached the wrapped box. Trembling with nerves and anticipation, his hands shook as they ripped away the tape and wrapping paper and slowly lifted the lid off the box.

"Fish?"

Roger leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, head tossed back with a smirk. He could picture exactly what lay in the box. A round glass bowl filled three-quarters full with water and two little pink fish swimming to their hearts' content. "What? They're kissing fish originated from Thailand. These little guys are so romantic; they'll kiss for hours."

"Is that supposed to be a turn on?"

Roger opened his eyes and mustered a puppy dog face. "Don't I least get graded for effort?"

Mark threw up his hands in a mock-gesture of defeat. "Fine. And you get a C +."

"Will you give me extra credit after a little session of makeup sex?"

The filmmaker paused and appeared to think it over. "I…how about no?"

Roger leapt from his seat and started dragging Mark towards the bedroom. "That's it. I'm definitely going to rape you now."

"It's not rape if it's consensual. Besides, I—"

Mark's protests were smothered by Roger's lips pressing against his own. Not that he minded too much as Roger finally succeeded in pushing him in and the door shut behind them. Outside, the two fish looked after the door for a second or two before liplocking together. The suggestive sounds coming from behind the closed door did not deter them in the least.