Someone asked Roger a question once, about which of his senses he'd give up if he had to choose. It just struck him as ridiculous and maybe a little morbid. Who thinks about things like that? He figures most people, like him, would choose smell, because if you have taste then you really don't need smell too much. Then the person switched up the question, asking which one would he give up last and without hesitation he answered, "Hearing. Sound," almost before he even had a chance to think about it.
He loves music, of course, and he loves sound check and tuned guitars and even feedback from amplifiers, but lately the sounds he associates with Mark are the sounds he loves the most. He loves the sound of the coffee maker, of creaking bedsprings, of his light snoring and his talking in his sleep. He loves Mark's voice and the slightly ragged edge that's almost always there. He loves the way Mark's voice strains and cracks when Roger's fucking him.
He was always too worried about Mimi to be able to pay attention to things like that, and when he was with April, he was either shooting up or strung out most of the time. He always said that things became so much more intense, so much more real, when he was on smack, and thinking about it now he wonders if everybody wanted to constantly throttle him when he was like that. When he was a junkie. When he could only really hear what he wanted to hear. When he wouldn't have been able to notice the crackling sound of burning paper and pot in Collins' joint and how his voice just gets richer and darker; the impatient way Maureen clears her throat and how she giggles instead of shrieking with laughter lately; how the smile always creeps into Joanne's voice even though she tries not to let it; the way Mimi just loses control when she begins to laugh; the mirth Benny hides behind his curtness; the way Mark can't stop himself from snorting when he laughs.
When Roger was just a moody morbid junkie he just wanted silence, but he just can't bear silence anymore, especially not in the loft. If no one's around, he has to have the stereo on or his amplifiers turned up as high as he dares while he plays his guitar, feedback and neighbors be damned. And if silence is keeping him from falling asleep at night he can just listen to Mark, mumbling in his sleep, occasionally sighing or purring softly, and it helps.