A/N: I had this idea a while ago, only it was Roger and Mimi and it had a different ending. Or...should I say, no ending at all, as I had no idea where to go with it. And I was thinking about the idea again last night and figured, with all the MarkRoger fics I've been doing lately, I should try it again. Hope you like!
Disclaimer: Don't own Rog or Marky. (le sigh)
Roger awoke with a smile on his face, his mind full with thoughts of the previous night. Mark's lips on his, his own callused hands brushing over Mark's cheek, blonde hair meeting blonde hair above the two lover's heads.
It was...well, excuse Roger for being cliché. But the only way to describe it was completely and utterly perfect.
He laughed quietly and ran his hand across the other side of the bed, expecting to feel Mark's slender back or his soft gelled hair or his hard, plastic rimmed glasses (which he slept in, claiming it was a lot better to wake up not blind).
But there was nothing. Just an empty half of the bed.
Roger scratched the back of his head and yawned, a confused look glazed over his face.
What the...
---
Walking out into the main room of the loft, he saw Mark, asleep on the battered couch. And Mark, being as tall as he was, didn't exactly fit, with one leg hanging over the side and one leg poking over the arm of the sofa.
I thought last night was fucking incredible. And he chooses this over me?
"Hey..." Roger nudged Mark's foot gently, attempting to wake the younger man. With no success, he pushed Mark's foot off the arm of the couch. Mark's eyes fluttered open.
"What!" He looked up to find Roger staring at him, hand on his hip. "Oh...hey, Rog." Mark smiled at him.
"Would you like to explain to me, after all that happened last night, why I'm sleeping in the bedroom and you're on the sofa? What the hell could I have done to turn you off?"
"Nothing, I just...came out in the middle of the night to get a drink and was too tired to go back to bed."
"Mark, you absolutely suck at lying. You never get up in the middle of the night, never. What did I do?"
"Nothing!"
"Mark..."
"I swear!"
"Mark..."
"YOU KICK!"
Roger took a step back, almost tripping over the small coffee table behind him. "I...I what?"
"You kick! You fell asleep and then I did too, and a few hours later, suddenly I was under attack! If I wanted to ever fall back asleep, I figured I'd...you know, leave the room."
Roger walked over to his roommate and sat down next to him on the couch. "I don't believe this. No one's ever told me that I kick before. I mean, talking in my sleep I could understand, singing in my sleep, sleep walking, but kicking? Why would I be kicking?"
"I don't know, bad dream maybe?"
"But last night was the best night's sleep I've ever gotten. I just don't understand this..."
"Roger, I think I have an idea if you want me to sleep in the same bed. Now keep in mind, you have to be open to this. I mean, really open. You have to really, really want me to sleep in the same bed..."
"Mark, I'm willing to do anything, just tell me what it is!"
---
"Mark...this is really uncomfortable."
"I told you you'd have to be willing to put up with it."
"But I mean...really, really uncomfortable."
"Roger, you want me here or not?"
Roger sighed, shifting in the bed. "I want you here..."
"Good." Mark leaned over and kissed his forehead. "Good night."
"Yeah..."
Mark turned off the light as Roger tried to find a comfortable spot with his legs tied to the bed with Mark's blue and white scarf.
"Love you, Roger."
"...yeah...you too..."