bad habit // @ofplanetsloved
oh, roger was drunk. clearly. drunk off of the alcohol, off of the kiss, off of the feeling of mark’s hands and lips and -
a voice in his head was screaming at him. but that was nothing new. voices in his head screamed more than they whispered. it was wrong, and he knew it was wrong for so many reasons. roger was positive. mark was dating maureen. roger was a recovering addict and could barely make himself get up in the morning, he’d seen the dark and gritty parts of the rock ‘n roll world, and that's something he wanted mark to have no part in. and maybe it made him a bad person, but he didn’t care at all.
he felt mark’s hands make their way to his forearms, trailing over his track marks, and part of him practically felt mark’s mind going a million miles an hour.
roger smiled a bit, settling into the kiss, and then -
nothing.
it took a moment for the words to register in his mind, but when they did all he could do was bite his lip, and take a step back.
“you’re serious?”
he tugged the sleeves of his hoodie down, suddenly very aware of the exposed track marks.
“is this a game to you?” he asked, swallowing the lump in his throat - roger doesn’t cry - “why did you kiss me if you were just-” he blinked a couple times - not in front of mark - and his voice began to rise “don’t play with my feelings - you’re just as bad as maureen!”
roger caught himself, and took a couple more steps away, leaning against the wall and hoping, praying, that mark didn’t see his watery eyes or hear the hitch in his breath.

















