Blinding Lights |(Mark/Rog) [Casual] FINISHED

[ROGER DAVIS]

Roger nodded. "I know he'll rag on me. I got him the last time, he knows that. He knows not to mess with me now." Roger knew that his and Collins' arguments or pranks or anything were all in good fun. Some might have thought, if they saw the two at it, that they were locked in a bitter fight over and over again, though it was hardly the case.

When had it bothered him? Roger wasn't sure how to answer. "It--it didn't bother me, dude. But, I mean...I don't know, when I was withdrawling, I guess it pissed me off sometimes. But that wasn't 'cause of you, it was 'cause of me." Pornos were mentioned, and Roger felt himself smirk, slowly at first and then wider as he remembered. "Dude. I couldn't help that my girlfriend liked to watch. Seriously, that turned her on more than anything. Never really got it, but damn, did it make for the best sex. It's not like I told you to stay and join in or anything." Roger said honestly, the smirk never leaving his face. "You can't honestly tell me that Maureen wasn't down with the videotaping. That girl loves to see herself in anything, why not see her screwing you?"

Oh. Erica. The smile only got wider. "...Little Marky's got a crush." Roger drew out the word almost singsong, a laugh escaping his lips. "You know she's single, right? I guess her and Freddy didn't work out or something, I don't know. I heard Freddy was fucking around behind her back." Roger shrugged. "You know Erica hates me, right? Well, I'm sure she doesn't hate me, but there was a point in time that she wanted my balls in a blender?" Roger asked, and then nodded. "Y'remember Chrissy, right? Her kid sister, about three years younger than us? Yeah, I--well, you know, I didn't know she was her sister, did I? She never told me she had a sister and you remember that party that Collins threw when we turned 18?" Roger moved, taking a drag of his cigarette. "Then Erica found out that I slept with her and she almost put a hit out on my ass. Collins had to threaten to beat up her boyfriend for me. Thankfully, April and I got back together a week after that." He flicked his cigarette, watching as the ashes blew away in the slight breeze. "I didn't know she was like, 16 or whatever. For her first time, she took it like a pro."

"Yes, I want you to dance on a table so I can get laid." Roger repeated with a nod. "That's why you're my best friend. And you are a spaz, dude. Just like I'm a lazy bum. Embrace it."

[markcohen]

“Yeah, I know.” Mark groaned, his voice muffled and exasperated “And instead of messing with each other, you guys just decided to mess with me. You do realize that the ‘Mark’s not getting any jokes.’ are starting to get really old.”

And he began playing with the frayed edge of his scarf again, “Why do you think I kept my camera hidden? It was just better for the both of us that way.” Mark’s camera had disappeared entirely when Roger was going through withdrawal. Anything to keep the Crack Monster from freaking out too much (the camera somehow reminded him of April). Mark smiled ironically at the memory. He had called Roger the Crack Monster during those months because it was one of the few things that kept Mark sane. It was proof that it wasn’t really Roger doing all of that. Threatening to kill himself, threatening to kill Mark... The filmmaker shook his head to clear it.

He held up a hand, “Let’s just... stop talking about what my poor camera has seen now, okay?” But the thing was, Roger was right. Maureen loved it when he would relent and allow his camera to be rolling when they did it. It made sex horrible. He would become self-conscious (Mark was meant to be behind the camera, not infront of it.) and Maureen would try to hard- not that she didn’t always have different tricks- but when Mark came out with a black eye, the filming had to stop.

“I don’t...!” He protested hotly, and then trailed off, “Erica’s just... I dunno, she’s nice to look at and an interesting person.” He chuckled dryly, “And if you remember, she’s made out with Maureen on occasion. So, there’s no way she would want to do me.” Mark blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “No. She still hates you. When you have sex with a beloved sibling, it’s kind of hard not to hate your guts.” Mark couldn’t exactly speak from experience, though. He knew Roger used to have a crush on Cindy, but Mark didn’t enjoy his sister’s company enough to really care if Roger slept with her or not.

Mark shoved the rubber ball back into his pocket, “Forget it. Just ask Mimi nicely. Unless your too lazy.”

[ROGER DAVIS]

"What can I say, dude? It's easy to mess with you." Roger said, and then smiled at the man. "When you start getting some, I'll stop saying that." Roger commented, and then moved, hitting Mark with his elbow. "C'mon, dude. Y'gotta get out there. I mean, fuck sex man, just being with someone. I forgot how nice that felt." With a click of his lighter, he lit another cigarette. "Don't get me wrong, man. The sex is wicked good."

He had kept the camera away for the first few weeks of Roger's withdrawal. Roger remembered little of exactly what had happened during the first painful days; he had been in too much pain to even think clearly. He remembered threatening to kill himself more than once; he had threatened to shoot himself even though none of them had owned a gun. Then, it had been hanging that had crossed his mind, but he hadn't had enough energy to carry it out. Slitting his wrists hadn't been an option, since everything sharp was taken out of the bedroom and bathroom after April had died. Then, the pain became too much, and he remembered passing out on more than one occation. Roger knew that the running nickname was Crack Monster, though Roger had screamed at them more than once that he didn't smoke crack, though if they had any, he'd be willing to try if it eased the pain. He flicked his cigarette to try to clear the thoughts.

"Dude, shut up, you totally have a crush. She's cute, y'should go for it." Roger stated, taking in a drag before he coughed, scoffing at Mark's words. "...dude, did you just describe Erica like a fuckin' book or something?!" Roger asked, and shook his head. "Dude, stop wax poetic-ing about Erica. The girl's hot as fuck and she's got a killer ass." When Mark mentioned Maureen, Roger rolled his eyes. "So she's made out with Maureen? Y'ever think that maybe she likes a little meat on her plate to go along with her fish every now and then? Maureen seems to like it. And besides, I'm sure Maureen's done the girl thing and like, told her how much of a like, super hot man-stud you were in the bedroom or whatever she says, and hey, maybe that turns her on? Think positive, Cohen!"

"I didn't know that was her sister!" Roger protested honestly. "I didn't find it out until like, a week later. And believe me, if I had told Erica what her little sister knew how to do, she'd probably hate me even more. But she shouldn't hate me. Hate her little sister for jumping my bones."

Watching as Mark shoved the rubber ball back into his pocket, Roger arched an eyebrow. "I am never too lazy to fuck. Get a job? Yes. Go out and busk? Maybe. But never, ever am I too lazy to take care of buisness."

[markcohen]

"Says the man who lived like a hermit for over a year and only came out because of a nineteen year old S&M dancer." Mark was one of the few people that could actually make light jokes about Roger's withdrawal period.

Mark gave an over exaggerated wince when Roger elbowed him (the man was bony, and hey, he learned drama from the best diva he knew) and rolled his eyes, "I'll get out there when I want to! Just... getting over Maureen--" He sighed, "It takes time. A lot of time."

Mark narrowed his eyes at- in his opinion- the evil cigarette, "You have a sixty-year olds cough. Isn't it time you stopped smoking? You've been doing it since you were fifteen, so I'm pretty sure you've had your fill." Truthfully, Mark was just tired of his friend smelling like the overpowering scent of cigarettes. He figured that if he got Roger to stop, then Mimi would, and then Collins... well, okay, maybe not Collins.

His face turned red, "Why should I listen to you? The last girl you set me up with was Maureen, and look at what happened with that." There was an akward pause, "Okay, it's still too early to joke about that." He muttered stiffly.

Think positive... don't think about Maureen... super hot man-stud? Okay, he wasn't even going to touch that one. "Maybe I'll talk to her the next time we go to the Life." Mark agreed finally, and then added quickly, "And don't you say anything to Sunny! Or Mimi. They'll tell her."

Mark snorted, "Because it's never your fault, is it?" He paused "What with you and siblings?"

He stuffed his hands back into his pockets, one fist clenching around the ball, "You are... disgusting. And an ass."

[ROGER DAVIS]

"Hey, I went out!" Roger protested. He had gone to the store. Once. After Collins had drug him out nearly kicking and screaming a month after April had died. He had been fine in the store until he had came upon a small cheap jewelry section where many gold bangles had been displayed. He had instantly lost it, and had nearly gotten the cops called for disorderly conduct. It was the last time anyone had forced him out of the Loft and the last time he had gone out willingly. "I know, okay? But seriously...what a thing to come back into the world for, huh? An S&M stripper. God must have thought I needed a little enjoyment in my life after the shit he had put me through."

He ignored Mark's comment about Maureen because he knew how the man felt. He just hoped that it didn't take Mark almost a year to get happy again. Scoffing slightly, Roger shook his head. "Dude, you made me give up Heroin. Don't make me kick cigarettes, too. Next you'll get a wild hair up your ass and make me quit drinking, which, if you do, I'll forget that you're my best friend and murder you violently in your bed. Just sayin'"

"You know, if you don't want to listen to me, you could always listen to your mom and go date Nanette Himmelfarb." Roger felt himself pause. "God, her mom was hot. The things I thought about doing to her in the Synagogue..." Roger trailed off, as if remembering with a smile on his face before he looked back at Mark, as if snapping back to reality. "There's only so much masturbation a man can do before he goes insane. And I don't want you to go insane, dude."

At Mark's admission, Roger nodded, smiling. "See! There you go. And I won't tell Sunny anything. Mimi, though, I can't promise. She has twisted and evil was of getting information out of me. But she won't tell, dude."

"Hey, I didn't put a gun to her head and tell her to fuck me, did I? No. I didn't even give her the alcohol. So therefore, not my fault." He paused, and then nodded slightly. "Yeah. So not my fault. Besides, seriously? That little girl was looking to fuck everyone that night. She even hit on Collins even after I told her he liked dick. And I can't help it. Women like me. Sisters like me more. Twins, Mark. Twins like me."

Smirking, Roger took a drag in from the cigarette, flicking ashes onto the ground of Central Park when Mark said he was disgusting. "I know I am, but it's why you hang around me. I never fail to surprise you."

[markcohen]

He raised an eyebrow, "Maybe it wasn't God," Mark challenged, "Maybe a certain best friend of yours was really starting to get tired of seeing you alone, so he set you up with their downstairs neighbor!" This was purely fictional, of course, but hey, Mark would have gone to drastic measures to see Roger happy again.

"I'm only thinking of your health!" He snapped, "One of us has too!" Mark stood up and flung his messenger bag around his shoulder, knowing fully well that he was just blowing things out of proportion. "Okay, go ahead and try. Whose the light sleeper in the Loft again?"

"Hey, don't knock Nanette Himmelfarb until you've tried her... Which I have." He admitted mildly, almost sitting back down again...

Mark threw his hands up into the air and stared down at Roger in mild disgust, "What is with you and Jews? Or Moms, for that matter?" He scrunched up his face and just decided to say the first thing that came to mind, "I don't plan on going nuts any time soon. Hanging out with you has already gotten me halfway there, though."

Mark sat back down again, but very very slowly, his bag sitting stiffly his lap. "Guys like you too." He added dryly, cutting across Roger's sentence.

He scoffed, "Please, you don't have to put a gun to anyone's head. You just have to give them that look." He gave a poor imitation of Roger's sad puppy-dog/seduction look.

[ROGER DAVIS]

"Dude, you were just as surprised to see that a stripper had written on our window in the frost." Roger challenged, without hardly any frustration in his voice. Though Mark had pushed for him to go down and have brunch with Mimi, saying that it would be good for him. Thought that he had wanted to just forget about it. It wasn't important.

Mark snapped something about his health, and Roger let a sigh escape his lips. Moving, he stamped the cigarette out on the side of the bench in slight frustration. "Dude, look! Fine. I'll cut down to like...a pack a day, okay? Just--just stop, okay? Stop." A breath escaped his lips again in a sigh, and he felt his teeth grit in frustration. "I'll cut down, okay? I just--I look at it this way; lung cancer? Not exactly my first worry."

"I didn't say anything bad about Nanette, did I? Your mom was the one who like, obsessively wanted you to 'Mazel Tov' it up and have like, a thousand little fat Jewish babies. Why you didn't is really beyond me. You guys were cute together."

When Mark threw his hands up in the air, Roger rolled his eyes. "So, when you were screwing Maureen, did you also swap tips on how to be as dramatic as possible as well as bodily fluids?" Roger asked almost rhetorically, and he lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Dude, Judaism is freakin' facinating. I mean, dude, seriously? A religion that thinks that foreskin is an evil little barrier between God? That's something to invest attention to. And I made your mom happy once and told her I wanted to be Jewish. Then your dad told me that I didn't have it in me to be a Jew. Your Dad never really me liked me, come to think of it."

"I know they do. And I don't care. Some guys might be all 'Oh, shit, guys wanna fuck me, ahh'" Roger moved, shaking his hands slightly, mocking fright. "And then they get all like, up in arms 'cause they don't wanna be thought of as fags and shit. Me? I could care less. It's like I told Collins the other day. Guys that want to pick fights with me in clubs and shit 'cause I hang out with gay guys or drag queens? It's not 'cause they want to fight me. It's 'cause they want to fuck me. I can't help it if I'm adorable and sexy. I just happen to enjoy a women's...ample features more than a guy. I mean, if I wanted to play with a dick, I'd play with my own."

At Mark's imitation of the classic look that Roger knew he did whenever he saw Mimi or when he had wanted April to do something for him, or even when he had met April for the first time, Roger rolled his eyes. "Dude, don't do that. You look constipated and your face'll stick."

[markcohen]

"Oh, a pack a day, that's healthy!" He scoffed.

Mark raised an eyebrow, "She taught me how to tango, and she was my first time, that's it. My Mom was delusional and thought she saw something, but Nanette and I agreed that we should go our separate ways. We still talk sometimes, but I'll have you know that she's had a thousand fat Jewish babies with Andrew Williams from ninth grade science." He snorted, "That guy was an even bigger sellout than Benny."

When Maureen was brought up once again, Mark made a face but said nothing. But when his parents were brought up, Mark immediately tensed. "Hey, if you think it's something to invest into, then don't listen to my Dad. Go out there and go Jew!" His voice was laced with sarcasm. "And don't worry, my Dad likes you more than he likes me."

He nearly choked on air at Roger's long rant. Mark just stared at him, his eyes huge and his mouth hanging open.

Mark shook his head and grinned, "Your just jealous 'cos I can pull off the puppy look better than you can." Maureen always told him one of the main reasons she'd liked him so much was because of his big blue eyes. It gave him an innocent look which was totally untrue once you got to know him.

[ROGER DAVIS]

Roger rolled his eyes and stayed silent at Mark's comment about the pack-a-day. He knew that he probably would never make the man fully happy. He'd either quit and be miserable, or smoke and be less miserable. He did, however, arch an eyebrow at Mark when he spoke of Nanette. "Dude, your mom was already telling me that you two were going to get married. She was majorly delusional, then. I always thought it was weird 'cause we were only like, what, sixteen or so?" Roger sighed at the mention of Mark's first time. "You know, I havn't talked to mine in like...years. Mindy O'Connor. Probably doing the good Irish-Catholic thing and, you know, raising 50 babies. Last I heard she married some douchebag from the Bronx. God, I love redheads." Roger said in almost a sigh before he broke from his thoughts as Mark spoke of Andrew Williams. "...Andrew Williams?!" Roger asked, eyes slightly wide. "That guy was a tool! No, no he was even worse than a tool; he was a straight-up douchebag." He paused, trying to digest the information. "Wow. Well, I stand corrected. I always thought he'd be one of those dudes living at his mom's house until he was like, fourty-five."

Roger shrugged slightly. "Dude, don't sweat it about your dad. Who needs dad's anyway? I got along perfectly fine without my dad 'cause his ass wasn't even in the picture. Your mom loves you, that's all that matters. Oh, and I forgot to tell you. My mom called, left a message on your voicemail. Said she gives all of us her love and shit like that, and that she hopes we like the new coffee pot she sent in the mail." Since Roger's mom had said 'we', Roger knew that she still didn't know that he had moved (mostly) out of the Loft. She didn't know about Mimi or even about April and she sure the hell didn't know about his positive status.

"...she also said she wanted to come down." Roger said after a moment, unsure of how to tell Mark. "Dude, she can't come down. I--I can't see her right now. I didn't even pick up the phone but I know if I don't call back she'll just...show up." It had been something that had sent him into a panic when he had heard her voice on the old answering machine. "I mean, do you know how much that would like...completely shatter her whole world? If she found out April was dead? If she found out that I was in rehab for--for Heroin and that I'm dating a stripper." He paused, his eyes widening slightly.

"Oh god. What if she walks into the Loft and Mimi's like--Mimi doesn't like to wear clothes, Mark. She likes to wear--to wear leather and lace and god if my mom sees the handcuffs, it's all over."

[markcohen]

Wow. Well, I stand corrected. I always thought he'd be one of those dudes living at his mom's house until he was like, forty-five.

Mark chuckled dryly, "What makes you think he's still not living with mommy? I just feel bad for Nanette..."

"Yeah, my Mom loves me a little too much. There's a limit on our phone, and she wastes half of it." He rolled his eyes. His eyes then widened slightly when Roger brought up his mom. Mark had always liked Mrs. Davis; she was nice to him, always treated him like an adult, and never mocked his filming dreams. Very much unlike his family.

He thought over his words carefully, "Roger... your Mom is... well, she's awesome. She deals well with stress. She can take care of herself. When she finds out about April, she'll be upset, but you'll be there to comfort her. When she finds out about your time in rehab, she'll... well, she'll probably blow her top." He cleared his throat. Mark was basically drawing out the game plan for Roger. It was the only way to get the Rocker to actually do stuff.

"And as for Mimi, don't worry about it. Sure she doesn't wear normal clothes, but she's just so darn bright and funny--" He smiled, "Your Mom'll love her."

[ROGER DAVIS]

"Yeah, my mom's awesome. A little ball of sunshine and light." Roger mumbled, digging into his pockets for his cigarettes again. Sure, he had just promised Mark that he'd cut down, but he was nervous as hell now that he had brought it up once more. "When she finds out about April, she'll lose it. She loved April. She wanted us to get married." He flicked the lighter, sucking in a drag from the cigarette as the cherry burned bright. "When I tell her she killed herself, she's going to lose it even more. I mean, I made damn sure not to tell her the last time she was here why I was popping pills every time my beeper went off."

Chewing on the end of his thumb, Roger brought both of his knees up, curling an arm around his skinny legs. He stared at the ground for a moment. "Dude, sooner or later...I'm gonna have to tell her."

It was something that he knew April didn't want to do. She had once told him when they were laying in bed, tangled up in sheets and arms and legs, that she knew they'd die young. She didn't see them living forever or even living to sit in old rocking chairs on the porch or get free 50th anniversery cake from the Life. He had smirked and told her that living forever wasn't something he was looking forward to, and told her that he didn't have the face to be an old man.

They'd live their lives like a blazing fire...because it wasn't like they had much to look forward to in the future.

And then, April had came and she had went and Roger remembered hearing April's mother scream and sob in the church. Roger had stared straight ahead, unable to look over at her. His nose plugged, his eyes puffy and red, and he simply stared at the coffin. He didn't want his own mother going through that. Sure, it was inevitable. He was going to die whether he liked it or not. There was no stopping the virus. However, he had made a vow to himself shortly after finding out he had AIDS; he wouldn't die in a hospital. He wouldn't die with his friends surrounding him (even though it's what he wanted). If he ever got sick, so sick that he knew the end was near, he'd leave. He'd dissapear. Then, he told himself, his friends could pretend he was just away on vacation. Away on a holiday to some far off place they'd never go.

Where was Roger? Oh, Roger's playing in Sante Fe. Roger's Sunny California, rocking out and partying it up with the movie stars and playboy bunnies. Roger'll be back, soon and he'll have stories to tell.

Swallowing, Roger glanced over at Mark. "I need you to promise me something. When I--" Roger stopped short, feeling his eyes close. "If she comes, don't tell her. Make up some sort of lie, whatever you want to tell her. Tell her it's asprin. Tell her it's vitamins. Whatever you want to tell her...just don't tell her. I don't need her blaming herself because her son decided to fuck random girls without protection and share needles, okay?"

Roger took in another drag, shaking his head. "She shouldn't even be comin' around here, man. I mean, you saw how she looked at the Loft the last time she came over. She looked so...upset that we're living like we are. She didn't think I noticed, but I did."

[markcohen]

What Roger didn't realize was that Mark didn't want to see Mrs. Davis go through what April's mother had gone through. The sobbing and the screaming had been bad enough that day, but when she had fallen completely silent... that was just too much to bear. Mark hadn't even been able to go up to Mrs. Ericson to give her a few words because he had to keep an eye on Roger. They had never heard from her again.

Mark had already resolved a long time ago that he was going to keep in better touch with Mrs. Davis when Roger... went. Even if it meant calling her every Friday just to see how she was doing.

His face fell into a frown, "Roger... you need to be honest with her. She's your mom, for Christs sake! I'm not going to say anything, I'll give you my word on that, but-- you'd better tell her at some point before she leaves."

"Who wouldn't be upset?" He said under his breath, pushing his glasses up so they would stop sliding down his nose, "The Loft really really sucks."

Mark stared at his friend in a sad silence, his glasses slowly sliding down his nose once more without him realizing it. "We are pathetic." He stated loudly a few moments later, lightly trying to twist the mood around.

If only Collins were around.

((OOC: Sorry that this post is crap. I'm loosing my Markyness because I'm so tired! ))

[ROGER DAVIS]

"I know she's my mom, dude. That's why I don't want to tell her. I just--" Roger took a breath in, bringing his knees up to his chest. "She's gonna blame herself. And then she's not gonna wanna leave and...and I need her to leave. I mean, the last thing I need is my mom hanging around my every step. I mean, seriously. She'll wanna like, move all her shit down here and watch over me like a hawk and I'll never get laid again." Roger felt himself smirk slightly as he looked up from his knees to Mark. "And I need to get laid, dude. Forget heroin. I'll jones for Mimi any day."

When Mark spoke of the Loft, Roger let a sigh escape his lips. "It's not--I mean, it's not the worst thing in the world. I mean, it's home. We built that home. Alot of crazy shit has gone down in that Loft and I wouldn't trade it. But it's just--she doesn't understand. She doesn't understand that yeah, sure, the whole heat thing is sorta shitty. When we don't have power, that sucks...but it my home. It's our home. At least we're not living on the street."

Silently, Roger smirked as Mark said that they were both pathetic. "We are. Fuckin' pathetic." He let a silence pass through the park until Roger spoke once more.

"C'mon. Pizza and beer. On me."

[markcohen]

" 'We built that home.'" Mark imitated Roger's voice, "You make us sound like pioneers." He joked, but he knew where Roger was coming from. With both of his comments. To have a parent around would basically ruin everything they stood for, even if it was someone like Mrs. Davis.

Mark stood up and slung his bag around his shoulder, arching an eyebrow at Roger, "Do you even have any money, or are we going to have to steal some again?" He chuckled, "Just hold on... I have to get my bike." Mark spun around and he scanned the park till he located the bike rack where he'd left his bike, but--"Dammit!" He cried in disbelief, "My bike's gone!"

He sped towards the empty bike rack, leaving Roger behind. "It was that Bag Lady, I just know it! I saw her around earlier and she's always been out to get me ever since that time--! Ugh!" He was rambling angrily, and making several people nervous.

"She's a thief!"