behold a dream .｡.:*☆ pink floyd imagines

roger #2

{ mail for roger }

"here," roger told you. "make sure it doesn't fall out."

he passed the lit hash and tobacco joint to you from between his long fingers and you took it carefully. it was your first time smoking, ever, and excitement spun its web because you were doing it with roger. you sat between his legs, your outer thighs touching his inner thighs, on the hotel room bed. a rosebud of heat seemed to be blooming in the room and your touching bare skin only seemed to heighten it.

"slow, remember," he advised and you nodded, putting the damp paper to your lips and breathing in. heavy, foreign smoke filled your lungs and you doubled over with a hacking cough, the joint still caught in your fingers. roger rubbed your back with his palm and gave a sleepy chuckle.

"damn," you groaned, your angry lungs finally calming. roger had resorted to tracing circles along your spine. you tried again, holding the smoked breath in as if you were about to jump into a pool, and opened your mouth to let it out.

"how was it?" roger asked as you went for a second pull.

"pretty good," you mumbled, smoke curling from between your lips into the dim hotel room beyond.

he swept his hands along your bare arms. with the warmth in the room, the grass in the joint, and roger behind you, your eyes shut slightly.

"today was a long day," you told him.

"yes," he affirmed and reached around to take the rolled paper.

"but i'm happy to be with you now."

"mmm," smoke on your shoulder from his nose, "there's no one i'd rather be with."

you allowed your head to fall against his chest. from the nightstand, he grabbed a book and placed it in front of the both of you.

"do you remember where we left off?" his voice filled your world.

"dante was stuck with virgil on the cliff-side."

he turned several pages until he settled, leaning into the pillows with you on top of him.

you passed the joint back and forth as he read out loud, until there was nothing left but the roach and he let you try your best to smoke it off.

he drew you close afterwards, into his lap, and your body felt like it was his body. you tried your best to keep your eyes open, but it had come to the point where you were merely existing.