Again, this is my beta-d version of Scarves and Coffee. I sent KT this huge thing of chapters to beta for me, and this was in there. The rest of it will be out soon.
The original explanation is below. I liked it so much I wanted to keep the damn thing.

And the date this is going back to is the Christmas right before they met Angel and Mimi. A lot of this needs to be explained. In this, Mimi and Roger don't get together. (You'll get why when I put the sequel out soon.) And also, Maureen doesn't date either of them. She gets introduced a while after this. It goes quick at the beginning, but gets a lot better.

I don't own anything. M/R Yumminess is a widely held turn on...I don't own that either.


--Mark's POV--
No one had any idea where I got my scarf. So I've decided to go back a year. A year before we met Angel. A year before Mimi hit on Roger, and Joanne graced us with occupying Maureen, and four months before said Drama Queen moved in.

It was Christmas, and on any year before would just drink 'till we couldn't remember our names and go to bed (like any other night we had), but this year we had money. Collins got some for us. I didn't ask how. I never do.

Roger and I went to the store a couple days before Christmas and bought our gifts quickly with the 40 bucks we both had. Once shopping was completed, we went to the Life Cafe and spent what we had left on a great amount of food. Now we sat on the couch drinking Collins' favorite drink, Stoli Vodka. He got huge amounts for tonight. Once again, he gets it, I don't ask how.

Right at midnight on Christmas Eve, we opened our gifts, already slightly tipsy. Collins went first.

Roger got him this black beanie thing, and yes that's the one he never takes off. I got him cigarettes and a book on Ancient Philosophers.

Roger and I opened his to us second.
I got some film and a mug. I needed film. I was working on the beginning stages of 'Proof Positive' and I was in dire need of film.

Roger opened the package and the strong smell of coffee beans filled the loft, and now that I think about it the smell never really left completely. Collins had gotten him coffee. A whole hell of a lot of it too. We're not even out of it a year later.

"Ok, Rog. On three." Roger and I sat in front of each other, holding onto our presents.

"One... two... THREE!" We both shredded the paper off the boxes.

"Marky! Oh, I needed these and sheet music… nice idea." Roger told me and gave me a little half hug. I had gotten him three extra guitar strings and a classical music sheet. It was called Muzetta's Waltz. Once I saw it, I thought of Roger.

"Roger! Oh my gosh. I love it." In my hands I held a long scarf that I would have to wrap many times around my scrawny neck to keep it from dragging on the ground. It was my scarf. The one I wear. All. The. Time. No questions asked. Well. This is kinda the
reason. Roger got it for me. I love it, even thought a year after I got the thing it's old and dirty.

The rest of the night dragged on and by two, if you would have asked me anything at all the answer would have been many slurred made-up words including "ufdiufgnnnnfddd", "hhhhsaaaahdhssssssiiioooowsss" and 'fffrrrrgooooottttnnnnsssss", followed by a fit of giggles and a look to Roger's keeled-over self. He laughed with me too. Even though he was the one who normally asked the questions.

I woke up that morning with a horrid hangover and I could barely tell my surroundings. I couldn't tell whether it was because of the pounding in my skull or the fact that I was actually in another room. I turned my head to go back to sleep and heard a groan from that immediate location. Roger's room. I very nearly fell off the bed.

"Maarrrkkk... lay the fuck back down." Roger growled.

"Roger, why am I in here?" I asked, although I was repositioning myself in the bed to get some more sleep.

"You prolly just went to the wrong room this morning. Go. Back. To. Sleep. Now." he rolled over and snored softly.

--5 1/2 hours later—


(Roger's POV)

I woke up.
I don't particularly like this part of my day.
The light in my eyes, the prospect of actually getting up, exerting energy, and attacking the hangover I have from the massive amounts of alcohol I consumed earlier. These things make for a pretty shitty start of a morning. So I wanted to extend it. I turned over in the bed and hit something I wasn't used to being in my bed. Mark. My best friend. He wasn't supposed to be there. Nope. Not at all.

I don't remember anything about last night.
Holy shit! Did we? Could we hav-

"Rog?" He broke me out of my thoughts.

"What, Mark?"

"Oh. You're awake. Finally. I've been up for fifteen minutes." he told me.

"Marrrkkkk. Why didn't you make coffee?" I groaned.

"'Cause I was trying to go back to sleep, but since you ran into me, rather rudely mind you, I couldn't." I attempted to get up. A sharp pain went down my spine. I winced. Mark got this really worried look on his face.

"I'm okay. Let's get up."

"Yup. I'm gonna go get dressed." We both jumped out of the bed. We were only wearing boxers. Strange.
Mark left my room and as soon as I heard the click of his door closing, I heard Collins' booming voice.

"Mark?" He asked.

"What, Collins?" The blonde came out of his room. Damn, he changes quickly.

In my room I pulled my plaid pants on over my boxers, and tried to listen to the conversation outside my door.

"Collins, what are you talking about?" Mark, obviously.

"You heard me, boy. Which one hurts more?"

"Collins, thanks to you, I always have a hangover. Dude. I seriously have no clue what your talking abou - " I came out of my room trying to struggle on a half-decent t-shirt.

"Maybe Roger will." I gave up on the shirt and looked over at Collins.

"What? Roger'll what?" I asked. Mark listened intently.

"Which one hurts more, Your head or your ass?"

--
You know that sounded a lot funnier written down...

TBC
Dark Cascade