RENT: Roger Davis. 51: Water/11: Red
Title: Hot
Pairing: Mark/Roger
Prompt: "Never waste a hot afternoon..."; also fanfic100 prompt 51: Water.
Word Count: 896.
Rating: NC-17.
Summary: The boys are looking for a way to cool off on a summer day.
Warnings: Smut, some language.
Author's Notes: This is for gay_maverick. He asked for people to give him ficlet prompts. When I read that post, I had the song Nobody's Side stuck in my head. So I took a line, and gave it to him as a prompt. Of course, as soon as I did that, I was struck by my own plot bunny. So, to make a long story short, this fic is Dale's fault.
“It’s fucking hot.”
Mark is sprawled out on the table, its metal surface making it the coolest spot in the loft. He slowly turns his head so he can see Roger sitting on the windowsill. “That happens in July, Roger.”
Roger sighs. “Yeah, but this is ridiculous. I don’t remember the last time it was this hot.”
“That was yesterday, Rog.” Mark smirks.
“You know what I mean.”
“Hardly ever.”
“Fuck this.” With a groan, Roger pulls himself up off of the windowsill. He starts across the loft, but pauses in front of Mark. “I’m going to do something about this before I melt.”
A look of confusion crosses Mark’s face as he watches Roger walk away, but he doesn’t say anything. A moment later, Mark hears water running and splashing against tile.
Roger’s taking a shower in an attempt to cool down, Mark thinks. Maybe I should try and …help. He grins wickedly before getting up off of the table and creeping over to the bathroom. As he gets closer, he can hear Roger singing softly, and knows that between the sound of the water, and the sound of his own voice, Roger won’t be able to hear him.
Mark stands outside the bathroom door, grinning, wondering exactly what has come over him. This is Roger’s game, he thinks. What the hell am I doing? He strips off what little clothing he was wearing, and places his glasses inside his shoe, where they’ll be safe. Fuck it, he thinks. I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine.
Mark slowly opens the bathroom door, willing it not to creak. Roger doesn’t miss a note in his song, so Mark assumes that he didn’t hear the door open. Seeing Roger’s silhouette through the flimsy shower curtain, Mark realizes why he’s doing this.
*****
Roger is standing in the shower, singing a song he’d written forever ago. He let the cool water pour down on him, lowering his body temperature a little. He stands there, eyes closed, water pouring down on him, savoring the rare moment alone.
His eyes open wide with shock as he’s suddenly slammed up against the cold tiled wall of the shower. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get any words out, Mark’s lips are on his. Mark’s kiss is insistent, searching, almost possessive, and Roger returns it in kind. A low moan escapes his throat as Mark’s lips leave his and begin trailing down his jaw, his neck, his chest. Roger’s fingers tangle themselves in Mark’s hair.
Mark continues kissing, licking, biting his way down Roger’s body, feeling Roger tense up with each contact. Roger whimpers a little as Mark’s kisses trail lower and lower.
Mark pauses, and looks up, meeting Roger’s eyes. Roger nods, almost imperceptibly, and releases his grip on Mark’s hair. Mark leans over the edge of the bathtub to grab a small packet that he had set on the edge of the sink. He tears the packet open with his teeth, and slowly slides the condom onto Roger. Roger inhales sharply at the feel of Mark’s hands on him.
Mark stands up briefly, long enough to kiss Roger deeply, before returning to his earlier position, kneeling in the tub. Mark flashes Roger a wicked grin before leaning forward and taking Roger in his mouth.
Roger moans deep in his throat, and tangles his fingers again in Mark’s hair. Mark winces slightly as Roger yanks on his hair, but doesn’t stop. He has his hand firmly wrapped around Roger’s base, and is slowly, teasingly, taking the rest of him into his mouth. Roger moans again, closing his eyes, and leaning back on the wall to steady himself.
Mark glances up at Roger’s face. He isn’t able to see much, but he can tell that Roger’s face is contorted into a mask of pleasure. He continues licking, sucking, touching, feeling Roger’s fingers pulling frantically at his hair.
“Oh, God, Mark…” Roger gasps, opening his eyes and looking down at the blonde man wrapped around him. His breathing becomes shallow, and he tenses up to the point where Mark briefly wonders if he’ll have any hair left when he makes it out of the shower. Roger manages a few more ragged breaths before he reaches the point of no return. He comes with a strangled cry, before relaxing slightly, loosening but not releasing his grip on Mark’s hair.
Mark leans back slightly, and removes the condom. He ties it off, and tosses it in the general vicinity of the trashcan, without looking to see where it lands. He stands, letting the water pour over him, before pulling Roger forward and into a kiss. They stand, pressed against each other, mouths fighting for dominance, water pouring down on them. After a few moments, they each quickly rinse off, before Mark turns the shower off.
They step out, each taking a towel to dry off. Roger pulls on his boxers and towels off his hair, while Mark slips on a pair of old shorts. As they leave the bathroom, Mark pauses to retrieve his glasses.
A few moments later, the boys are back to being stretched out in a vain attempt to remain cool.
“It’s fucking hot,” Roger sighs, again, from his spot on the windowsill.
“True,” Mark replies with a grin, “but at least we didn’t waste the afternoon.”
X-posted to fanfic100, fuckingartists, and bohemian21.
Title: Red
Author: Holly [bohemian21]
Feedback: Makes me squeal like a fangirl!
Pairing: Roger/April
Word Count: 616
Rating: G
Genre: General/Romance
Summary: "Looking out from the stage, the first thing Roger noticed was her hair."
Notes: I started this forever ago for fanfic100 prompt 11: red. [I own Roger at fanfic100.] I took this prompt as an opportunity to finally finish it. It's a complete change for me, because there is no angst to be found! The Raven Cafe is a real club on Avenue A. Whether or not it existed when Roger would have been there, I have no idea.
Special Thanks: As always, I dedicate my Roger/April fics to elvensorceress.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None. [Roger doesn't even swear!]
Disclaimer: I don't own RENT [unfortunately].
Looking out from the stage, the first thing Roger noticed was her hair. Brilliant red, shining brighter than anything in the crowd. Amongst the throng of fangirls squealing his name, he instead found himself drawn to this girl with the brilliant red hair and shy smile. Her hair attracted his interest, but her smile is what kept his attention. He caught her eye and nodded almost imperceptibly at her, which caused her smile to widen.
After the show, he found her sitting at the bar, nursing a drink. He sat down, ordered a drink, lit a cigarette, and turned to her. “Hey there, Red,” he said with a grin. “Glad to see you’re still here.”
She smiled shyly and spoke in a voice that sent chills down Roger’s spine. “I was waiting for someone.”
Roger smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”
She nodded. “And now,” she downed the rest of her drink, “I’m not waiting anymore.”
He smiled. “Really?”
She laughed. “For a writer, you’re not so good with the witty replies.”
He chuckled softly and blushed a little. “I’m a songwriter, and this conversation doesn’t seem to be set to music.”
“I’ll give you that, I guess,” she smiled, “if you buy me another drink.”
He waved the bartender over, and ordered her another drink. “I’ve seen you at a couple of our shows.”
She nodded, taking her drink from the bartender. “I’ve been to a few. I never realized that you noticed me before, though.” She blushed softly.
His voice went soft. “How could I not? You certainly stand out in a crowd.”
She blushed softly. “The curse of being a redhead.”
Roger shook his head a little. “It was your hair that grabbed my attention, but it was your smile that roped me in. I like your smile.” She blushed even redder, and tried to hide her smile. “Like that. It just…lights up your whole face. The whole room, in fact.”
“And you said you weren’t a writer.”
“I’m still not, but I could write an entire book of songs about your smile.” He reached out and placed his hand on top of hers. “But I don’t know the name of the girl whose smile I’m so hung up on. I can’t possibly write a song about you if I don’t know your name.”
“I’m April.”
“I’m Roger.” He blushed. “But you already knew that.” He ran a hand nervously through his hair.
“Did you mean that?” She took another swig of her drink.
He grinned broadly and nodded. “Yes, I did. I really am Roger.”
April made a face. “I meant about writing a song about me.”
Roger looked into her eyes. “I would never kid about something like that. Now, I can’t promise that it will be any good…”
“If you write it, it will be.” She winked at him, and finished her drink before standing up. “I’ve gotta go. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?”
“We’re playing at the Raven Café the day after tomorrow. I’ll be looking for you.”
“I might be there. Of course, I might meet another rock star I like better, and go to his gig instead.” She grinned broadly and winked. “Night, Roger.”
“I’ll see you around, April.” She stood and leaned toward him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before walking out the door.
Roger was too stunned to react until she was gone. He sat, staring at the door for a moment, before realizing that she was gone. He briefly wondered how this girl he’d only known a matter of minutes had gotten so far under his skin, before grabbing a pen and furiously scribbling some lyrics onto a cocktail napkin.
X-posted to fanfic100, speed_rent, and bohemian21.
Pairing: Mark/Roger
Prompt: "Never waste a hot afternoon..."; also fanfic100 prompt 51: Water.
Word Count: 896.
Rating: NC-17.
Summary: The boys are looking for a way to cool off on a summer day.
Warnings: Smut, some language.
Author's Notes: This is for gay_maverick. He asked for people to give him ficlet prompts. When I read that post, I had the song Nobody's Side stuck in my head. So I took a line, and gave it to him as a prompt. Of course, as soon as I did that, I was struck by my own plot bunny. So, to make a long story short, this fic is Dale's fault.
“It’s fucking hot.”
Mark is sprawled out on the table, its metal surface making it the coolest spot in the loft. He slowly turns his head so he can see Roger sitting on the windowsill. “That happens in July, Roger.”
Roger sighs. “Yeah, but this is ridiculous. I don’t remember the last time it was this hot.”
“That was yesterday, Rog.” Mark smirks.
“You know what I mean.”
“Hardly ever.”
“Fuck this.” With a groan, Roger pulls himself up off of the windowsill. He starts across the loft, but pauses in front of Mark. “I’m going to do something about this before I melt.”
A look of confusion crosses Mark’s face as he watches Roger walk away, but he doesn’t say anything. A moment later, Mark hears water running and splashing against tile.
Roger’s taking a shower in an attempt to cool down, Mark thinks. Maybe I should try and …help. He grins wickedly before getting up off of the table and creeping over to the bathroom. As he gets closer, he can hear Roger singing softly, and knows that between the sound of the water, and the sound of his own voice, Roger won’t be able to hear him.
Mark stands outside the bathroom door, grinning, wondering exactly what has come over him. This is Roger’s game, he thinks. What the hell am I doing? He strips off what little clothing he was wearing, and places his glasses inside his shoe, where they’ll be safe. Fuck it, he thinks. I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine.
Mark slowly opens the bathroom door, willing it not to creak. Roger doesn’t miss a note in his song, so Mark assumes that he didn’t hear the door open. Seeing Roger’s silhouette through the flimsy shower curtain, Mark realizes why he’s doing this.
*****
Roger is standing in the shower, singing a song he’d written forever ago. He let the cool water pour down on him, lowering his body temperature a little. He stands there, eyes closed, water pouring down on him, savoring the rare moment alone.
His eyes open wide with shock as he’s suddenly slammed up against the cold tiled wall of the shower. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get any words out, Mark’s lips are on his. Mark’s kiss is insistent, searching, almost possessive, and Roger returns it in kind. A low moan escapes his throat as Mark’s lips leave his and begin trailing down his jaw, his neck, his chest. Roger’s fingers tangle themselves in Mark’s hair.
Mark continues kissing, licking, biting his way down Roger’s body, feeling Roger tense up with each contact. Roger whimpers a little as Mark’s kisses trail lower and lower.
Mark pauses, and looks up, meeting Roger’s eyes. Roger nods, almost imperceptibly, and releases his grip on Mark’s hair. Mark leans over the edge of the bathtub to grab a small packet that he had set on the edge of the sink. He tears the packet open with his teeth, and slowly slides the condom onto Roger. Roger inhales sharply at the feel of Mark’s hands on him.
Mark stands up briefly, long enough to kiss Roger deeply, before returning to his earlier position, kneeling in the tub. Mark flashes Roger a wicked grin before leaning forward and taking Roger in his mouth.
Roger moans deep in his throat, and tangles his fingers again in Mark’s hair. Mark winces slightly as Roger yanks on his hair, but doesn’t stop. He has his hand firmly wrapped around Roger’s base, and is slowly, teasingly, taking the rest of him into his mouth. Roger moans again, closing his eyes, and leaning back on the wall to steady himself.
Mark glances up at Roger’s face. He isn’t able to see much, but he can tell that Roger’s face is contorted into a mask of pleasure. He continues licking, sucking, touching, feeling Roger’s fingers pulling frantically at his hair.
“Oh, God, Mark…” Roger gasps, opening his eyes and looking down at the blonde man wrapped around him. His breathing becomes shallow, and he tenses up to the point where Mark briefly wonders if he’ll have any hair left when he makes it out of the shower. Roger manages a few more ragged breaths before he reaches the point of no return. He comes with a strangled cry, before relaxing slightly, loosening but not releasing his grip on Mark’s hair.
Mark leans back slightly, and removes the condom. He ties it off, and tosses it in the general vicinity of the trashcan, without looking to see where it lands. He stands, letting the water pour over him, before pulling Roger forward and into a kiss. They stand, pressed against each other, mouths fighting for dominance, water pouring down on them. After a few moments, they each quickly rinse off, before Mark turns the shower off.
They step out, each taking a towel to dry off. Roger pulls on his boxers and towels off his hair, while Mark slips on a pair of old shorts. As they leave the bathroom, Mark pauses to retrieve his glasses.
A few moments later, the boys are back to being stretched out in a vain attempt to remain cool.
“It’s fucking hot,” Roger sighs, again, from his spot on the windowsill.
“True,” Mark replies with a grin, “but at least we didn’t waste the afternoon.”
X-posted to fanfic100, fuckingartists, and bohemian21.
Title: Red
Author: Holly [bohemian21]
Feedback: Makes me squeal like a fangirl!
Pairing: Roger/April
Word Count: 616
Rating: G
Genre: General/Romance
Summary: "Looking out from the stage, the first thing Roger noticed was her hair."
Notes: I started this forever ago for fanfic100 prompt 11: red. [I own Roger at fanfic100.] I took this prompt as an opportunity to finally finish it. It's a complete change for me, because there is no angst to be found! The Raven Cafe is a real club on Avenue A. Whether or not it existed when Roger would have been there, I have no idea.
Special Thanks: As always, I dedicate my Roger/April fics to elvensorceress.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None. [Roger doesn't even swear!]
Disclaimer: I don't own RENT [unfortunately].
Looking out from the stage, the first thing Roger noticed was her hair. Brilliant red, shining brighter than anything in the crowd. Amongst the throng of fangirls squealing his name, he instead found himself drawn to this girl with the brilliant red hair and shy smile. Her hair attracted his interest, but her smile is what kept his attention. He caught her eye and nodded almost imperceptibly at her, which caused her smile to widen.
After the show, he found her sitting at the bar, nursing a drink. He sat down, ordered a drink, lit a cigarette, and turned to her. “Hey there, Red,” he said with a grin. “Glad to see you’re still here.”
She smiled shyly and spoke in a voice that sent chills down Roger’s spine. “I was waiting for someone.”
Roger smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”
She nodded. “And now,” she downed the rest of her drink, “I’m not waiting anymore.”
He smiled. “Really?”
She laughed. “For a writer, you’re not so good with the witty replies.”
He chuckled softly and blushed a little. “I’m a songwriter, and this conversation doesn’t seem to be set to music.”
“I’ll give you that, I guess,” she smiled, “if you buy me another drink.”
He waved the bartender over, and ordered her another drink. “I’ve seen you at a couple of our shows.”
She nodded, taking her drink from the bartender. “I’ve been to a few. I never realized that you noticed me before, though.” She blushed softly.
His voice went soft. “How could I not? You certainly stand out in a crowd.”
She blushed softly. “The curse of being a redhead.”
Roger shook his head a little. “It was your hair that grabbed my attention, but it was your smile that roped me in. I like your smile.” She blushed even redder, and tried to hide her smile. “Like that. It just…lights up your whole face. The whole room, in fact.”
“And you said you weren’t a writer.”
“I’m still not, but I could write an entire book of songs about your smile.” He reached out and placed his hand on top of hers. “But I don’t know the name of the girl whose smile I’m so hung up on. I can’t possibly write a song about you if I don’t know your name.”
“I’m April.”
“I’m Roger.” He blushed. “But you already knew that.” He ran a hand nervously through his hair.
“Did you mean that?” She took another swig of her drink.
He grinned broadly and nodded. “Yes, I did. I really am Roger.”
April made a face. “I meant about writing a song about me.”
Roger looked into her eyes. “I would never kid about something like that. Now, I can’t promise that it will be any good…”
“If you write it, it will be.” She winked at him, and finished her drink before standing up. “I’ve gotta go. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?”
“We’re playing at the Raven Café the day after tomorrow. I’ll be looking for you.”
“I might be there. Of course, I might meet another rock star I like better, and go to his gig instead.” She grinned broadly and winked. “Night, Roger.”
“I’ll see you around, April.” She stood and leaned toward him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before walking out the door.
Roger was too stunned to react until she was gone. He sat, staring at the door for a moment, before realizing that she was gone. He briefly wondered how this girl he’d only known a matter of minutes had gotten so far under his skin, before grabbing a pen and furiously scribbling some lyrics onto a cocktail napkin.
X-posted to fanfic100, speed_rent, and bohemian21.