Ain't No Party Like Ours | Roger, INACTIVE

[joannejefferson]

It wasn't the fact that he was staring at her in shock that caught her attention and finally activated the remaining neurons in her brain. Shock she was accustomed to, I mean really she's a bit arrogant when it comes to sex. She's pretty positive she's damn good fucking people brains out. It's kind of her secret pleasure in life. So no, it wasn't the look of shock on his face. It was the tremble in his voice as he spoke, sounding almost like he was begging her to stop, which I suppose he was. Finally, all the warning bells and sensory alarms came on in her mind and she was intimately aware of what was happening.

Oh holy fuck.

She was seconds away from making what was probably the hugest mistake of her life. Sex with Roger. Sex. With Roger. Yeah, that was a surefire path to death, and not for the reasons one might suspect. In fact, the fact that Roger was HIV positive hadn't yet crossed her mind. What was stuck in her mind was the fact that Roger was 1) her best male friend, 2) her girlfriend's friend, and 3) the boyfriend of one of her best female friends. Adding to that, she was reeling over the fact that she'd been stupefied enough to even entertain the idea of sleeping with him. Mind boggling considering she wasn't even attracted to men at all, and yet she could not deny the very real fact that she was incredibly turned on. If he hadn't stopped them, she very probably would have just went all the ... well, you get the idea.

So, as Roger curled himself into a ball, Joanne flipped herself off of him, crashing into the plush mattress in total silence. Her thoughts were swimming around her, and being that she'd finally sobered up enough to think straight she was even more off kilter than she'd been before. Reason number one thousand three hundred forty two that I should never, ever get drunk.

Taking a deep breath, she looked over at Roger, who looked positively on the verge of panic. This, naturally, brought Joanne's control freak persona back onto the table, and despite the heavy mist of inebriation that was slowly clearing from her mind, she was very aware that sad Roger was bad. After all, they were supposed to be spending the afternoon as sexy drunk not-hungry buddies.

"Roger." She started, softly, the lisp of drunk tongue finally gone. "Rooo-gerrrr." A joking sing-song sound came from her, and she rolled onto her side, attempting to smile at him and failing. "Okay, fine. We were about to do something really stupid. Let's mope about that tomorrow. Right now, its celebration day, I'm damn near naked, too turned on for my own good, and hungry. And also sexy, and so are you, so let's order some food, and continue to be the sexy drunks we are, okay?" Even though it was phrased as a question, it was pretty obvious that she was not asking so much as demanding. Things would seriously fall apart if both of them panicked at the same time, so Joanne had to assume control because ... well, because that's what Joanne does.

Roger was just gonna have to jump out of his "I'm sick. I almost fucked my lezzie bestie. OH SHIT." mood and get back to having fun. It was rare that Joanne was willing to let loose like this, and being who she was, Joanne was determined to pester the good mood back into him if she had to.

Yes, I'm sure you're wondering if she's as sober as she thinks. Probably not.

[ROGER DAVIS]

Roger. Rooooo-gerrrrr

He pressed the palm of his hands against his eyes as he tried to block out her voice, singsong and light and teasing near him, until he dropped then, looking over at her as she explained that she was near naked, turned on, and she wanted to continue to be that way.

Part of him wanted to continue, too, because well, she had said it best. They were still insanely turned on, and still drunk, though common sense was slowly pushing it's way through his alcohol-fogged brain.

Maybe there was nothing wrong with a little sexy sexy time as long as it didn't involve...insertion? Bodily fluid exchange that involved sexy parts? His mind wasn't working. Moving, he brought a hand up, cupping her cheek as he pressed his lips against hers, tongue slipping past her open lips. His other hand moved, slipping between the waistband of her panties to press up against her as tried to make his screaming thoughts go away.

He was normal.

He was normal.

He was fine.

For a moment, they were a sea of arms and legs and fingers buried deep in slick, warm places and he wanted so much to simply get inside her. He ached for it so bad that he felt a moan escape his lips, getting lost in her mouth. "You feel so good, baby." And just like that, his mood switched, the sadness and fear was replaced by pure lust. Condoms had never been a staple in his past (probably one of the reasons why he was in the situation that he was in), but for some reason, his mind automatically went to that.

He sighed out against her ear, moving to bite down lightly on her earlobe before he spoke into her ear, words marked by jagged breaths, his fingers still quickly working against her.

"You have condoms?"

[joannejefferson]

Okay. So Roger's response was not at all what Joanne had in mind. Yeah, being naked and sexy was fun, but seriously there were lines that one drew, especially when you were like best buddies and did not share a sexual preference. Well, actually, you did share a sexual preference. It just happened that you both preferred women. So, yes. This was not all what she'd expected. She'd figured he had enough of his brain pieces back in order that the sex part of sexy time would not continue.

She really should have known better.

Of course, it wasn't actually bothering her that he'd gone a different route. In all honesty, she was quite enjoying it. Really, Roger was no Jennifer, nor was he Maureen, but for a guy, he was pretty impressively adept at hitting all the right 'insidey parts' as he'd called them. Seriously, within moments of him beginning his wondrous assault on her senses, Joanne was struggling not to totally fall apart from his touch. He seemed to know exactly what she wanted when she wanted it, and it was all she could do to keep from yelling just how amazing it truly was. Now, he wasn't the best, not by far, but Roger was good, very good, and if this was what men were capable of Joanne was beginning to think maybe they weren't so bad.

Not that any other man would ever get this privilege. This was Roger's prize, and it was a reward he would only get this one time.

So the moment passed with her hands tightly gripping the sheets on her bed, a continuous roll of guttural moans falling from her lips as he skillfully brought every sensation her body could feel to the surface. His question in her ear brought her brain back into focus, and she turned her head, capturing his teasing lips in a deep hungry kiss. "Bathroom. Left drawer on the bottom."

Now, Joanne had never actually needed to use condoms, but hell she had a girlfriend that was a little free in the love department. Maureen might not be the most faithful person ever, but she at least knew the value of protecting herself... At least, Joanne assumed she did as Maureen kept a box hidden in the bathroom. She wasn't even sure Maureen knew that she knew where they were, but whatever. It was coming in handy for Joanne now. One thing was for certain, she'd probably hesitate the next time Mo had a drunken one night stand. Hell, she was kind of caught up in one of her own at the moment.

[ROGER DAVIS]

Of course Joanne had condoms. No, correction; Maureen Johnson had condoms. At least Joanne knew that if Maureen was sleeping around, she'd do it safely. The moans escaping Joanne's mouth were nothing that he had been expecting to hear today. Or ever, even. Nothing outside of the occational lesbian fantasy that he had in his mind when Maureen brought up something sexual about Joanne. Or about herself, for that matter.

Her lips caught his, and he tried to push his fingers as far as he could inside of her until she broke, speaking about the condoms. His fingers left her, and he brought his hand up, gripping her chin and cheek with his fingers. "Stay."

Standing from the bed, the bathroom felt like miles away, but he found himself in there quicker than he had intended, and the condoms right where Joanne had said. "Thank you, MJ." he muttered to himself, standing and moving back to the bedroom. He crawled quickly on the bed, over her and pressing her lips hard against his.

"I call bullshit on this 'never-fucked-a-guy' thing, 'cause you sure the hell know what the hell you're doing." Roger stated against her lips with a wicked smirk before he felt a groan escape his lips. "God, you're fucking insanely hot right now, you know that?"

[joannejefferson]

Between the kiss and the frantic working of Roger's fingers Joanne quite literally fell apart. So, Roger got what he clearly wanted, which was for her to come completely undone in his hands. Honestly, it was quite a wonderful feeling. It just took over, killing her awareness, her thoughts, her everything and she just kind of fell into this hazy high that had absolutely nothing to do with being drunk, and everything to do with Roger being damn good at sex.

"Stay."

Well, she hadn't planned on going anywhere. She watched him quietly as he walked from the room, her mind slowly settling in time with her wrecked breathing. How the hell had she managed to get this far and with Roger of all people? It was all chalking up in her mind, drawing a really really frightening conclusion. Next thing she knew, Roger was climbing on top of her, a wicked grin on his face as he spoke. He could call bullshit all he liked. Her virginized nature when it came to men was not a lie. She really hadn't had sex with a man before. It wasn't her fault she was naturally gifted at the art.

Smirking, she pulled one of her favorite moves during sexy time, and somehow managed to flip them over so that she sat straddling Roger. Chuckling in that soft seductive way she rarely ever used, she grabbed his arms and pinned his hands above his head with one of her own. She then leaned down so they were eyes to eye, lips just millimeters from touching.

"Not lying to you, Rockstar. This is just pure natural talent." She kissed him softly, more a whispering touch than a serious caress. It was then that all the unsettled thoughts coalesced in her mind, and she looked down at Roger, her eyes wide with sudden awareness. "We shouldn't do this." She let go of him instantly, almost as if he was some forbidden foreign object. "This can't happen."

[ROGER DAVIS]

Somehow, he managed to be flipped onto his back with a grunt with her straddling him. He arched his hips against hers with a groan, wanting more than anything just to be inside Joanne. It was almost an insanely strong urge, something that could easily be compared to the want of Heroin. It filled every single drunken thought in his mind, and it was almost the feeling that if he didn't do it, he'd die right on the spot.

Her hands moved his arms over his head, and he felt a smirk cross his face as he watched her. She leaned down, lips nearly touching, and she spoke, saying that it was pure talent. Nothing more. "I like it when you're egotistical. It's sexy." Roger said, his tongue darting out to try to lick her bottom lip.

Then, she pulled away, and Roger was left with a now-large space between them. It left him with a confused look on his face, brows narrowed and mouth opened. "W-What?" Roger asked, his mind stills swimming with sex and alcohol, and in the back of his mind, swimming with regret. But that would come later when he sobered up.

He propped up on his elbows for a moment, looking at her confused. "C'mon, don't back out on me now." Roger said, and them smirked, sitting up to face her. "C'mon, I get that it's your first time. I'll seriously be gentle, I promise. It doesn't have to be rough--look, If it helps, just pretend my penis is plastic. It doesn't vibrate, but I'm pretty sure I can hit all the spots that the plastic one can." Roger said with a smirk, pressing his lips against hers again. Until he realised she wasn't kissing him back.

"C'mon, baby. Kiss me. We were almost sorta gonna be fucking two seconds ago, c'mon..." he mumbled against her lips.

[joannejefferson]

Roger. Stop being so tempting. Seriously, it is not helping me keep my brain on.

She had no idea how he'd done it, or if it could ever possibly happen again, but at that moment her thoughts were lining up with his. All she could see was the two of them, limbs entwined, riding this insane high they seemed to be on as long as they could. It wasn't a problem of it being her first time. She trusted that Roger would be gentle and quite honestly she imagined that sex with Roger would be extremely satisfying.

Still, as much as she wanted to give in to his demands, to give in to the insane desire they seemed to share, she couldn't do it. The faces of Mimi and Maureen had risen in her mind, and the thought of the immense guilt she was already starting to feel was enough to stifle the desire. She knew that Roger would be just as upset as she was once the thought was finally pressed into his brain that what they were doing was seriously wrong.

Then Roger was kissing her again, and it took immense effort to not reciprocate. Really, Roger was pretty damn adept at this whole thing, and for it to be her first time with a guy he was making it really hard to not be curious. But now that she'd really thought about it, there were just too many things wrong with this situation. So, his mumbled pleas went unanswered as she pulled further away, determined to get it through his skull that this was no longer going to happen.

"Roger, we can't." Her voice was soft but firm, and her hand rose up to play in his blonde hair. It was sort of an absentminded thing, her way of fidgeting to keep herself focus. "I admit, it's a strangely difficult temptation to resist, but we have to because Mimi and Maureen will kill us both if we don't. Call me a sucker in love, but I can't do that to either of them."

[ROGER DAVIS]

She wasn't kissing him anymore. Why wasn't she kissing him anymore?! She had said she wanted sexy. They had both wanted sexy. She had been okay with it and--and he had been okay with it, right? They were two okay adults doing things.

But he wasn't okay.

No, he told himself, trying to kiss her again but failing as she pulled away once more. "Stop it." he whispered almost like a frustrated child, the drunken sexual haze slowly and almost painfully going away, showing the truth that had been there all along. He had a girlfriend. A very sexy girlfriend. Joanne had a girlfriend. An arguably sexier girlfriend. And they were sitting here, damn near naked and getting ready to fuck.

That wasn't the worst part of it, he knew. It was the fact that if they had gone through with it in their drunken haze, tomorrow he would have had to worry if she was sick. Because of him, they'd have to worry, and then the truth would come out about what they had done, and then both of their worlds would have easily crashed and burned.

It was strange to think of it the way that he did, but it was almost as if the AIDS had been the ending point. He loved Mimi, he realised and had always known this very well. But the alcohol and maybe a little bit of the past had crept in.

He wanted to keep telling himself that he was fine, but he wasn't fine. This had gotten him into the situation. Fucking without care.

He felt his eyes shut as he felt her fingers through his hair, and he tried to jerk his head out of her touch. A breath escaped his lips as if he had been holding it forever, and he looked at her with narrowed brows, as if realising what they had done. His mind starting spinning; did he have cuts on his fingers? Was he bleeding? He brought his hands up, turning them over to look at them closely, as if there'd be a little sign somewhere, a little writing in bold, black letters that would say, "No, you didn't give her AIDS or "Yes, she should get checked as quick as she can.". His heart fell to somewhere near the bit of his stomach.

It was pretty much a long-shot, but if Joanne had gotten sick because of him, he wouldn't have a clue what he would do. If anyone had gotten sick because of him, he couldn't live with himself. It was then that he felt the almost panic rise up in his chest. Maybe this, he thought in the back of his mind, maybe this is what April felt.

"I'm fine." he said, turning his hands over, looking at the fingers that were still slick from her. "I'm fine." he repeated as if trying to assure himself, his voice slightly more panicky as his eyes snapped up, filling quickly with tears to look at hers. "I-You--You're--you're fine, right?" Roger asked, his voice shaky. "'Cause--" he couldn't even finish his sentence, his breaths no longer the hitched ones of lust but of true fear.

They had just gotten drunk and nearly ended both their lives.

[joannejefferson]

Joanne watched, almost heartbroken, as Roger turned his hands before his eyes, staring at them in a panic. She knew instantly what thoughts were spring through his mind, and even though he had tried to pull away from her, she hadn't let him. Her fingers still played in the curls of his blonde hair, and her other hand rose to gently cup his face. She needed him to look in her eyes and see what his panic wouldn't allow him to see.

What they had almost done was incredibly stupid. Joanne knew that Roger was freaking out about the fact that he had AIDS and that it was quite possible that their far too sexual play could have transferred the horrifying disease to her. She knew that he was staring at his hands, trying to assure himself that some open would hadn't slid the virus into her oh-so-willing flesh. She could see it on his face, and because of that, she wasn't thinking about the AIDS. No, Joanne was thinking about her beautiful, wonderful, loving girlfriend Maureen and about Roger's beautiful, wonderful, loving girlfriend Mimi. She was thinking about how angry they would both be if they ever found out about the little that had already happened, and how even angrier they would be if this went any further. She was remembering how hurt she'd felt every single time Maureen had cheated, or something similar, and granted Joanne's responses weren't always rational, but she knew that she never wanted to inflict that kind of pain on anyone.

Thus, her mind was not on the possibility that they had almost killed themselves with a virus no one knew enough about. Her mind was on keeping Roger calm, and erasing the tragedy for a few more moments. Joanne was tired of the world crashing in on their fun, tired of pagers and t-cell counts murdering what little happiness they had. Today was supposed to be a damn celebration, and she not letting that bliss go without a fight.

"Honey, I need you to breathe and calm down." She spoke slowly and clearly, trying to draw his focus on her words. Her hands traced a path down his body, following the length of his arms until she could weave their fingers together. "I am fine." She didn't think about the slickness from her own juices making his hands hard to hold. She just held his gaze, keeping her expression neutral. "I am fine. 100 percent okay. So calm down, and give me one of those irresistible lopsided grins of yours." A smile rose on her face, yet another of many signs to him that everything was completely alright. It didn't matter that it wasn't. Right now, Joanne was of the mind that if she said it so it was.

[ROGER DAVIS]

It was almost getting hard to breath; the alcohol had heightened his emotions to something almost outrageous; his sexual emotions had been off the wall, but now that those were gone, it left room for other emotions. Heartache. Pain. Fear. They all flooded his brain in a near tidal wave, and he felt tears slip down his cheeks as he tried to catch ahold of the panic that was urging his lungs to go into overdrive.

Honey, I need you to breathe and calm down.

A breath escaped his lips, wet with tears, and he felt her hands slide down his arms to take his shaking hands into hers. She said, in a clear, slow very that she was fine. Another breath escaped his lips, and his brows narrowed in frustration at himself, at everything. Swallowing thickly, he tried to calm himself down, tried to focus on her. He released one of her hands, bringing it up to press against her chest to try to match his breathing with her own. He took in deep breaths, finding himself coughing roughly and wetly, and in the back of his mind, he knew he needed to stop smoking. It almost felt like he was getting sick. His breathing started to slow to something that was normal.

He brought his arms up, wrapping them around her as he pressed his face into the crook of her neck. "I'm sorry." he whispered tearfully, almost begging her to forgive him though it had been both of their faults. "W-When I get drunk I get horny and--and for a minute I just forgot I was sick. A-And it's like, the first real time I've forgotten that I was sick and you were looking all sexy and you felt really good and god you can't tell Mimi. This would fucking destroy her." he told her quickly, half of his words muffled by Joanne's neck and his tears.

[joannejefferson]

It's really unfair when Roger cries. Seriously. Joanne hates to see people cry. She really hates it. It gets her every single time. Tear number one and there she goes, at your beck and call. Granted, most people don't know that about her because well, Joanne rarely lets herself see people cry. She doesn't like to be near teary people because she's total putty in their hands and she utterly hates not being able to control a situation.

Yeah, I know, that kind of makes this a completely out of character situation doesn't it? Well, hell, she's drunk what do you expect? Anyway, moving on.

Naturally, the tears spilling from Roger's eyes were like daggers to her poor little walled up heart, and it was all she could do to shake him and scream for him to stop crying, to stop making her hurt just as much as he was. Insensitive as it may sound, Joanne didn't want to feel Roger's pain. She had enough of her own to deal, and it was bad enough that she knew her best buddy could die any day from a freaking cold. Didn't he know every sneeze any of her sick friends had made her skin crawl? They were inches away from death, and honestly, Joanne just didn't want to think about it. Her friends were supposed to be a respite from the horror stories she confronted at work every day. Sadly, they were a much more horrifying story of their own.

So she sat perfectly still, her eyes never leaving his as she watched him slowly calm down. His hand broke from hers and rested on her chest, confusing her for a moment. Then, as she noticed him slowing his breathing, she understood what he was doing. A slight smile graced her lips as she kept her breathing at that same, even pace. When he wrapped himself around her, burying his tears in her skin, she remained still, even as the smile on her face broke under the agony of hear him utter Mimi's name.

Roger was absolutely right. If Mimi ever found out about this, it would shatter the feline's spirit, and Joanne would never be able to handle having been the cause of such devastation. She immediately had a desire to just bang her head against a wall for being so stupid, so careless with the lives of two of the people she held most dear. There was little worse than what they had almost done, hell, why sugar coat it? What little they had done was cause enough to destroy the life they had so carefully built as friends. In that moment, Joanne felt how utterly human and fragile she was, and she hated the feeling.

Her arms slowly wrapped around him, her hand drawing small light circles absently on his back as she tried to think of a response. What could she say really? This was both of their fault, both of their stupidity, and the secret that had to be kept would be their weight to share.

"I'm sorry too." She whispered softly, trying desperately to hold her friend together without really knowing how. "I'm sorry I made you get drunk with me. I'm sorry I was being my stupid sexy teasing self. I'm so sorry, Roger." The only thing she couldn't apologize for was making him forget his illness. She couldn't apologize for that. Roger deserved to keep that moment. It wasn't like he had a lot of them. "I won't tell a soul."

A silence fell as they sat there, and it wasn't until the weight of her thoughts became too much that she gently disentangled herself from Roger's embrace. As soon as she was able to separate herself from him, she smiled and ruffled his hair then stood up and walked over to her closet. Opening it, she reached up on the shelf and pulled down a pair of sweat pants and tank top. Once she had the clothes on, she felt a little more comfortable, and a deep sigh slipped out.

"Want to split a pizza? I'm thinking half veggie, half meat. Unless you want something else like Chinese." She added as she turned back to Roger. The only way she knew how to jump out of this sudden somber mood was to continue on like it hadn't happened. So she would. Besides, hadn't they come back to the apartment planning to oder take out anyway?

[ROGER DAVIS]

Her fingers traced circles across his bare back, and he sniffed in, trying to stop his tears. He laid his cheek against her shoulder, watching the pulse thump against her thin neck. She spoke, breaking his thoughts and the silence in the room.

I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry I made you get drunk with me. I'm sorry I was being my stupid sexy teasing self. I'm so sorry, Roger.

Roger swallowed, the lump in his throat growing smaller but still making itself known. He adjusted his cheek against her shoulder for a moment before speaking. "You didn't make me get drunk. It's not like you tied me down and poured beer down my throat." He had gotten drunk on his own. And bad things always happened when he was drunk. The bad, wicked things usually happened to Mimi where they'd both be unable to stand the next morning...but Joanne had been there instead. He felt her detangle herself from him, and he slipped down to the bed, feeling cool sheets under his cheek. He watched her sideways as she dressed, and he figured that he'd dress too. It wasn't like anything was happening anymore.

His pants were by the bed, and a shrill beeping from the beeper on his belt reminded him of that fact. He leaned over the edge of the bed, grabbing his pants. He clicked the beeper off, and looked over at her. "Hand me my jacket over here ont he floor?" When the jacket was in his hand, he dug for the bottle of AZT, found it, and shook out one pill into his hand. Downing it dry, he grimaced slightly and nodded at her suggestion.

"Yeah. Pizza sounds good." Roger said after a moment. "Lately my stomach's been all fucked up if I don't eat anything after I take my AZT. I need to mention that to the doc when I go back to check my counts." he told her, pulling his pants back on. A sigh escaped his lips before he reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. He moved to the balcony doors and opened them, lighting the cigarette. He sucked in a deep drag and found his lungs burning from the coughing he had done before. He felt himself cough, the smoke escaping his lungs as he grimaced.

"Fuck."

[joannejefferson]

Space. It was a necessity. At that moment, Joanne needed it like fish needed water.

You see, Joanne has a secret. She's a runner. When things become too much for her to handle, she runs. Finding an escape is an inherent ability ingrained in her DNA. Usually, she can barricade herself in her office and work until all she sees is case law, affidavits, and data sheets. She can lose herself in the total passionate obsession that is her daily work as a lawyer. It's easy to do, especially when the only people who could stop you are afraid to because they don't want to detract from you work saving the world.

Unfortunately for Joanne, she couldn't do that in this situation. She couldn't say, "Hey I've got some work to do." and then disappear into her office until Roger decided to leave. She couldn't leave him to wallow in his self-pity, and there was absolutely no way she was going to drop the even amount of guilt between them completely on his shoulders. Still, she needed a moment to separate herself, to pull from the deep registers of her cerebral cortex the calm and playfulness she knew she'd need to survive the next few minutes of Roger angst. Luckily, she'd provided herself with an out by offering to order pizza.

By order of Maureen some many months ago, the phone she'd had in the bedroom had been removed. It's a hell of a lot harder to answer a phone mid-coitus when it's not actually in the room. (Yes, Jo had actually done that once. You try telling Joseph Jefferson "Dad, I'm tongue deep in the world's most vocal brunette. Can I call you back?" Uh huh. Exactly.) Thus, Joanne had to leave the room to call in the pizza. Even more in her favor was the fact that the phone number to the pizza joint was written down in the kitchen, so she had to go even further.

Perfect.

So, as Roger headed out onto the balcony, Joanne went into the kitchen and pulled out the phone number. Minutes later, the pizza was ordered -half veg, half meat with a side of cheesesticks- and she was reaching into the fridge to pull out a bottle of tomato juice. Her stomach was a little unsettled from drinking so much, and then there was the nausea now rolling through her at the thought of what had just happened with Roger, and seriously she just needed a vice.

She grabbed another bottle, a light frothy soda for Roger, and headed to her bedroom. When she reached it, she watched Roger for a moment, wanting to say something that would erase this whole crazy show, but knowing she couldn't. Sighing, she walked out onto the balcony and held the bottle out to him, leaning on the railing as she did so.

"You know Rockstar, you really should stop smoking. It'll wreck your pretty singing voice, not to mention it's bad for your health." She didn't look at him as her flat voice ran out to break the heavy silence. She couldn't. Her eyes would see his and too much would be said in that momentary gaze.

[ROGER DAVIS]

"You know, Rockstar, you really should stop smoking. It'll wreck your pretty singing voice, not to mention it's bad for your health."

Roger looked over at her, bringing the cigarette up to his lips as he took the soda bottle from her. He blew the smoke out in a thin line, watching as it got carried away by the wind, and he let a slight cough escape his lips. "Well, you shoulda heard me when I was little. I sounded like a teenage girl. Smoking brought on this wonderful sound that you hear today."

He took a gulp from the soda and paused, watching her. "Plus, I mean, I have AIDS. What other medical shenanigans can I get in to?" Roger asked before he took one last drag from his cigarette, flicking it off the balcony. He blew the smoke out from his lungs before he stepped to her, sliding his hand down to her hips and around her back. His other hand moved, fingers under her chin.

He pressed his lips against her cheek briefly before sliding them over to her lips. The kiss wasn't anything like it had been only moments ago, full of passion and lust, but soft and sweet. He pulled away from her lips slightly, a breath escaping his lips.

"You're sweet." Roger said honestly, his finger tracing down her jawline. "But you shouldn't worry about me. It'll just make you crazy. Look at Mark."

[joannejefferson]

She stood there listening to what he was saying. A smile came on to her face at the obvious joke. It was hard to imagine Roger with a squeaky girl voice. The image was really amusing. Then he went on to joke about him having AIDS, which to be honest she didn't really find funny. However, she understood what he was doing and so allowed herself to chuckle at the utter incredulity of this entire situation.

It felt really, really good to stand there and laugh. Roger kept talking, and all she could do was smile as he gave her one of those famous sweet Rockstar kisses. In that moment, she realized just how radically different their relationship was now from when they'd first met. She'd seen him as a brooding, mopey man who needed a pick-me-up on a regular basis. Now, she saw a man who was trying desperately to keep his life going, and even managed to have a sense of humor about it. He was out of his mind a good portion of the time, but she rather liked that about him. When he wasn't wallowing in self-induced angst, he was actually a really fun guy. A few years ago, had someone told her he'd be one of her best friends, she might have laughed and had that person committed. Now, she was pretty much happy that her life had randomly thrown her into the path of the blonde rocker.

"It'll just make you crazy. Look at Mark."

She took a step back when he said that, pinning him with a mild glare, and an incredulous smirk.

"You did not just compare me to Mark." A laugh came from her as she thought about it. "Seriously, Roger? Mark? Since when am I anything like Mark?" It was both a challenge and a joke, a way to keep the mood as light as possible without effort. Good ol' Mark. Always a chance for a weird joke of some sort.