As Mark moved towards him, Roger tried to remember to breathe. Carefully he reached out to grab the scarf the filmmaker was so nervously twisting between his fingers, and tugged him close. Taking in a breath, it shook just a bit before his lips found his roommate's, his free hand moving to his hip gently.

Roger came home later that night, sunglasses on even though it was dark, and his coat in his hand rather than on his body where it should have been. Stepping into the loft, he closed the door behind him and headed for his room hoping that Mark had gone to bed by now.

[[ NWS KIDDIES, AND VERY MUCH NC-17 MATERIAL. No minors please.]]

Leave a mark before I croak...

"Speeeeeeeeeaaaaaak"

*BEEP*