There had been long, awkward silence filling the small apartment, interrupted only by a less than pleasurable meeting with Benny, yuppy scum of the Earth. Now that he, and his Range Rover were gone, the two New Yorkers hadn't the slightest idea what to say to one another. Rodger sat at one end of the home they shared, plucking at the strings of his guitar, wishing the images of Mark, moving beneath him, whispering his name, would clear from his head. He'd been through enough this year, and he was sure that the last thing he needed was to add "Mark Porn TV" running through his head 24/7 to the long list of suck. Sadly, though, the strings could only distract him for so long, and images were shoving their way back to the forefront of his mind, begging to be seen. He plucked the string to hard, his fingers slipping as he was berated by images, and cursed loudly.

Meanwhile, Mark sat at the opposite end, cleaning his camera lens, and worrying about just how much of his dream he'd verbalized. "Did he hear me ask him too… did he hear me when I.. oh, God" , He thought. He jumped when Rodger swore, dropping the tiny rag he'd been using. He'd be surprised if the lens was any cleaner now than it had been before he'd tried to distract himself in scrubbing it anyway. As if he ever let the thing get dirty in the first place, and now with his hands shaking so frantically, he was positive they'd be useless to him had the screen actually needed cleaning.

He glanced back at Rodger, for the hundredth time, and once again found that the rock star was refusing to make eye contact, his entire body angled in such a way that he might avoid having to look at the roommate he was currently fantasizing about. But poor Mark had no idea what was running through his head. To him, his insane verbal dreaming had completely destroyed their friendship, and he needed to get out of there before he said or did anything to make it worse. He hopped up from his seat, abandoning his camera in favor of his gloves, and made his way to the door.

Rodger glanced over at him, and cursed himself for doing so. His eyes couldn't help but travel over the film makers body, so covered that doing so was useless.

Right, it's the middle of winter, and we have no heat. Duh.

"Uh, I'm going to go look for Collins…" Mark said, noticing that Rodger had finally looked at him.

"Want to come with? I figured we could grab a bite to eat, catch up, or whatever." Why was he offering this? The last thing he wanted was to walk beside Rodger, sit across from him.. he could barely make eye contact with him right now, let alone conversation.

"Zoom in on my empty wallet" was all that Rodger had to say. Mark worked up a half smile, sensing the hostility, only further confirming that he should never take a nap again. He shifted awkwardly.

"Touche" Mark replied, shifting a little more, not knowing what else to say. "Ah, don't forget to take your EZT, okay?" He waited for Rodger to reply, but when nothing came, he finally left, grabbing his bike and heading down to the mean streets of the city. Rodger watched Mark leave. Once he was gone, he exhaled with so much force, he probably could have knocked down a bus. It was getting hard to play the chords, to make the sounds that were spinning around in his head, and finally he just gave up. He made he way to the roof, and made hollow attempts at clearing his head. Maybe I'm getting to worked up" he thought. Anyone'd think of their roommate naked if they'd just been in that situation" He reasoned with himself, feeling just a little better, until he realized that he'd been treating Mark like crap since the incident. He sighed. He needed to apologize for that. He rubbed his temples and made his way back to their Dingy apartment just as a knock came to the door. Mark! Great, I can apolo- Oh. Rodger took in the sight of the gorgeous young woman standing on the other side of the door. Maybe he wouldn't be thinking about Mark naked much longer after all..