[at tom's loft.]

[not_scripted]

Mark was tired. It was the early morning, and he hadn't slept in the past day or so. But he couldn't even begin to get comfortable enough to fall sleep in a strange, new place

Comments

[onesong___glory]

Roger wakes up and feels better then he has in a long time. Even though his hair is plastered to his face and he's drenched, he still feels like a million bucks. It feels like he's come to some sort of revelation. He lies there and unsticks the hair from his face and brushes it behind him. Maybe he'll start cutting and dying it again. He'll ask Mark.

His brain begins to work enough to realize there's another weight in the bed. He turns his head and smiles, chuckling at Mark, reaching a hand out of the covers to stroke his hair as he watches him sleep.

[not_scripted]

Mark curled up on his side, mumbling incoherently in his sleep. He stirred slightly as he felt someone's fingers in his hair, his lips forming a small smile. He clung to the closest thing near him, the sheets and blankets, curling up into even more of a fetal position, purring.

[onesong___glory]

Roger absent-mindedly pets Mark, smiling and listening to him pur as he thinks about how is going to pack all his new clothes. It would be a shame to waste it. He'll just spend a day ripping all the logos off everything and patching and sewing what rips. He sneakily slides closer to Mark.

[not_scripted]

Mark yawned, nuzzling Roger's hand as he continued to sleep. Before long, another warm body was close to his, and his first instinct was to cuddle closer to it. He yawned again, his eyes opening slightly. "Oh, hi Rodge," he mumbled, yawning once again and closing his eyes.