The Pink Floyd Household

What Could Never Be

The morning light streamed in through a crack in the curtains, cutting into David's sleep. Squeezing his eyes even tighter, he finally gave in with a loud groan. Sitting up and looking around his dark room sleepily, David smacked his lips together a couple of times, suppressing a yawn. His drowsy state was then interrupted by the obnoxious voice of his mate, Roger:

"David! It's noon! You've been sleeping all day!" He screeched before storming away.

"S-sod of, Rog," he mumbled to himself, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Eventually he made his way out of bed and stretched his thin frame out, groaning at the feeling. Moments later he was crawling on the floor looking for something to wear. Throwing on an old T-shirt and slipping on some lounge pants over his green boxers-he made his way outside.

"Mornin'," he said, walking into the kitchen with a sleepy smile.

"Afternoon," muttered Roger, "It's afternoon-you slept all day," The bassist casted him a quick glance, raising his brows in slight amusement at the sight of Gilmour's hair, before looking back down at the newspaper.

"What's for breakfast?" He questioned, sitting down at the table.

"You're lucky, Rick saved you a pancake, I voted against it," Roger responded with a slight sneer, not looking up from his place at the table.

"You Arse-" he muttered under his breath before scarfing down the cold pancake, not realising how hungry he was until now. His stomach growled loudly, demanding more, much to Roger's amusement.

A light smile tugged at the brunette's lips to which he then flipped the page on the newspaper. "You do realise that's all you're eating for breakfast, right?"

   Annoyed with the mans constant remarks David only growled in response, "and you can stop talking right there! Honestly-do you have to be so damn moody all the time?!" He snapped, clenching his jaw in annoyance.

    A sudden shriek from their drummer interrupt Roger from saying anything else as he loudly stormed into the brightly lit kitchen. "Has ANYBODY seen Syd?!" Nick called out breathlessly before stopping dead in his tracks. "Oh my God! D-David! Your hair!" He exclaimed, before breaking into a fit of laughter.

   "My hair? What's the matter with my hair?" Replied Gilmour, utterly confused as to why Nick was acting this way. Running a hand through his hair-well, more like: attempting to run a hand through his hair, he cringed at the sharp pain when his hand got tangled in a tight netting of greasy dirty blonde hair. "Ow!" He yelped and groaned. "Look, I just woke up, I haven't brushed it!"

    "Y-you look like a-a," Still choking on laughter, Nick waved his hands around, struggling to find a word to describe his friend with his unruly mess which he called hair. "A TROLL! That's it-a troll!" Nick exclaimed gleefully.

   Choking on his tea, Roger snorted in amusement, not giving much care that his beverage had been emptied out on his papers and pants, although he did cringe slightly from the hot pain. "Gilmour the 'troll', Nick, you're a bloody genius!" He snickered, only laughing harder at the blonde's unamused expression.

"Whatever!" Dismissed David, "at least this look's temporary. But you, Roger, will forever look like a horse!"

"Still beats being a troll!" Managed Nick between fits of laughter.

Nodding towards Nick, he smiled at the support. "Thank you, Mason," facing back towards Gilmour, he sneered, "see?"

   "Fine!" Snapped the now grumpy guitarist. "I'll brush it!" Storming off towards the restroom he let himself inside, slumping in front of the sink. "Oh this is hopeless," he whined softly to himself, looking at his rugged reflection in the mirror. He froze when he saw Rick's face off to the side, behind him. Turning around to face him he gave an awkward laugh, "oh-sorry, did you need to use the restroom?"

    Shaking his head Rick stepped in next to David, "I was thinking I could help you," he smiled softly up at David.

~~~

Walking down the hall to the restroom, was Roger Waters. He was in desperate need of, how to put it, taking a piss. Reaching for the door handle, he froze when he heard somebody was inside.

   "Oh-Rick, that feels nice," crooned David's voice.

"Does it now? Mm-well are you ready then?" Responded Rick.

"Alright-OW!!" Exclaimed David, "Ow Rick it hurts!"

"Oh stop squirming, David, you're only making it hurt more. I promise you'll feel better in a while."

"OW! Pull it out, pull it out!" Came David's pained voice.

"Uh," grunted Rick, "I can't!"

"Rick! You're hurting me!"

Slowly backing away from the door, wide eyed, he crashed into the wall before dashing away and crashing into Syd. "Oof!" He grunted, falling down on the floor.

    "Roger?" Asked Syd, helping his friend up. "What's gotten into you?"

    "R-Rick! A-and D-David! T-they were f-fu- DON'T GO IN!" He struggled to speak since he was hyperventilating and then screeched at Syd in alarm as he was reaching for the door.

    Giving Roger a 'what are you talking about' look, he opened the door and sighed at the view inside. "David, Rick, out, please....I need to use the restroom." Walking in, David and Rick walked out; Both fully dress, David with a comb wedged tightly in his tangled dirty blonde hair.

    Roger blinked once. He blinked again. Sighing in relief he shook his head smiling sheepishly. "Oh-that's what."