Roger had been stalking along the compound isles, trying to find his item, whatever the fuck it was. He knew it would be smack. It had to be smack, and that was what he fucking needed.
He barged into a room, the door was wide fucking open, after all, and almost didn't notice the two people in a rather lurid embrace.
Almost.
"Oh, holy-- Jesus fuck. Sorry," he said, leaning against the wall, looking amused.
"Close the Goddamn door? See you around, John. Nice meeting you, other guy," Roger said, shaking his head and turning to leave and, as an afterthought, closing the door behind him. He kind of hoped John would come find him later. For, you know, not-thinking-about-Mark purposes.
"Right, close the door. I'll do that in the future." He laughed a little, managing to look sheepish, "That was Roger, by the way. The rock god I told you about." He kissed Chas lightly, "Sorry for that."
"He's very pretty. I have standards, you know." He playfully poked him back, "Well I should have shut the door. But you distracted me, what with being shirtless."
John laughed, "I'm not that scary, am I?" He considered the question for a moment. "Don't answer that, actually. My methods of convincing are usually pretty violent. This, though, this will be fun." He grinned wider and started in on Chas's neck again.
Chas's retort was cut off by John's lips on his neck. He didn't whimper - cabbies never whimper in the face of danger or seduction. There was a gasp, though.
He barged into a room, the door was wide fucking open, after all, and almost didn't notice the two people in a rather lurid embrace.
Almost.
"Oh, holy-- Jesus fuck. Sorry," he said, leaning against the wall, looking amused.
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"Hello, Roger. Help you with something?" he asked, smirking a bit.
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He didn't need this. Wasn't it enough to be whisked away to a desert island with stupid trees and dinosaurs and John?
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"You're not sorry, you prat." A poke to John's chest.
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