Consolant

Cream of Mushroom Soup

When they arrived home several hours later, the boys had a number of messages on their answering machine. One was from Mark’s mother, and another was from Alexi Darling, asking where Mark was. But another was from someone that Roger knew all too well, and someone that Mark was becoming acquainted with more and more all the time -- the drug dealer.

“Cohen, why the hell won’t you pick up your fucking phone?” said the message. “You better get this message before Rog catches you, or else I’m out another customer.”

“Too late,” they both said, smiling at each other.

“I want to get my life back,” Mark said. He knew that he would spend many days and nights fighting the urge to shoot up or snort. His film having been a huge hit, they currently had enough money that he could take time off when he needed to in order to cope with it, and he was sure that Alexi would understand, especially with Maureen’s death. It had, after all, been Maureen’s concert that had given him the opportunity to get into a decent job, which had subsequently gotten him recognized as a very talented filmmaker. Of course, she had no idea of his addiction yet. One thing he worried about was if she would fire him because of it. Perhaps not, he reasoned and hoped, because he was trying hard to quit.

“Hungry?” Roger asked, pulling out one of the cans of soup that they had received that morning. Mark nodded, sitting down on the couch and flipping the power on the TV. They had gotten enough money into savings that hey had been able to afford a TV and VCR, with just the basic Mickey Mouse ears antenna for signal.

“Distraction…”

“Distraction.” Roger smiled. This was going to be one of their quietest evenings at home. Perhaps he should just sit back and relax, and enjoy his lover’s company. Or perhaps something else was in order. He fixed the soup and brought it over to where Mark was sitting. He studied the young blonde with a smile. Yes, perhaps the meal would immediately be followed by dessert. “Here you go.” As careful as he was trying to be, the soup spilled on his hand and he nearly dropped the bowl as his hand began to burn. “Take it, take it, take it! Ow, ow, ow, ow!”

“Ooh, sorry,” Mark said, taking the bowl quickly and watching Roger shake his hand off. “You okay?”

“I’ll live,” he said. Mark set the bowl on the table and took Roger’s hand.

“Do you mind if I have a little Stud-Muffin with my soup?” Mark said, playfully licking off some of the spilled soup. Roger chuckled.

“No, I don’t mind,” he said. “But you need to eat first, so that you’ll have plenty of energy.” Making a somewhat evil face, Mark thought to himself that there was something that he wouldn’t mind licking right now. “And I mean food, not me.”

“Mind reader,” Mark joked. While Roger returned to the kitchen area to retrieve a couple of beers from the fridge, Mark quickly opened a small bag of reserve that he’d been hiding in his jacket, and poured a small touch of it into each of the two bowls. The stuff was pretty much tasteless with food, dissolved in liquid quickly, and Roger would think that his strange behavior was because of the alcohol, which always made hits better. For the first time that he’d remembered, he’d lied to his lover. He didn’t want to have problems with Roger, but he also didn’t want to give up the drugs. He just hoped that Roger wouldn’t go too overboard when he found out he’d been tricked, if that happened. What Mark didn’t realize was that Roger’s eyes were on him. He wasn’t angry, really. He wanted the pain to go away too, and this might be his chance to do just that. The alcohol would make it worse, but perhaps this was what he needed right now. It was a morbid thought, but perhaps if they both overdosed on drugs, at least one wouldn’t have to live without the other, and Mark wouldn’t have to spend the last years of his life alone. He would die with the man he loved, and they would be together in whatever awaited them in the next life.

“Here’s a beer,” he said. As they ate, they talked, and drank, and drank some more. The twelve-pack that had been sitting in storage for a long time was gone in a matter of less than an hour, and Mark was riding on the absolute high that the combination of drugs and alcohol was causing. Roger was too, but not quite as much as Mark. After their meal, they made sure the door was locked, and they began to make out, harder and heavier than either of them had ever remembered making out before short of actually having sex.

“I love you, Roger,” Mark said between kisses.

“Love you too, Mark,” he said, kissing Mark’s neck and moving up to his ear. Mark moaned, the feeling of teeth on his earlobe having always made him incredibly turned on.

“Oh, God…” he said. He didn’t want this to end, this feeling of absolute ecstasy that was now consuming him. Roger, although not as high, was now craving more of the white stuff, his body remembering well what it did for him.

“More…” he said. “More white stuff.” Mark froze. He knew. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad. I could’ve stopped you, and gotten angry, but I needed this too.”

“Roger,” Mark said. He looked away, ashamed of himself for forcing Roger into the situation, when it had taken him so long to rid himself of the problem. Mimi, Angel, and Maureen would’ve been ashamed of him too. “I shouldn’t have done this.” He pulled out of the embrace and turned away from Roger.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Roger said, wrapping his arms around Mark from behind. “I told you, I want this. I don’t want to feel any more pain.”

“You saw how fast the disease took Mimi,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done this to you.”

“I’m on the downhill anyway, Lover,” he said. “You know that.”

“We all are, Roger, but that doesn’t mean that you have to make the downhill steeper,” Mark said. “I have to get out of here.”

“Wait!” Roger cried. “Where are you going?”

“To the graveyard,” Mark said.

“NO!” Roger nearly screamed, grabbing Mark by the arms and kissing him fiercely, tears in his eyes. “Please stay with me. Help me forget!”

“Roger…” Mark whispered.

“Please, Pookie,” Roger cooed. Mark fell into Roger’s arms, and began to cry hard again. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“I love you so much, Roger,” he sobbed.

“I love you too,” he whispered back. “I was serious, though. I want more of the drugs.” Mark looked into his lover’s eyes in amazement. Roger was actually willing to go back to the drugs to satisfy the cravings of his pathetic lover? “Go get the needle.” That cinched the deal. Mark knew that he had never done things properly unless Mimi had been around, and now someone with just as much experience would share the thrill with him as well.