Hazy --RogerxPete--

  He didn't quite know where he was. And he didn't exactly know the man he was with. But he knew one thing- he needed this. Pete had been brooding about his house, keeping his contact with anyone shallow and minimal; John kept phoning him, and he had answered the fist couple of times, but after a while, he had just not bothered. It was great that John cared and all, but he needed time to himself.
   But then, after about a week of being alone in his house- writing songs and all that crap- he decided it couldn't hurt to get out of the house. Maybe hit a few bars. Then maybe he's get back and call John up; tell him he was alright.
   But he hadn't called John. In fact, he hadn't even managed to get back home. And now he was half-drunk, and honestly a bit nervous as he was now sitting in this man's living room who had convinced him to come over for a bit. He had wanted to escape for a night, and he sure got it, though this wasn't exactly what he had in mind.
"So, Pete, right?" the other long-haired man slurred thought his obvious drunkenness. He was slumped down on the couch, his right arm over the armrest, the other hung over his leg. The honey yellow light worked at his eyes and left them glazed and raw. Although, at times it seemed he couldn't keep his tired eyes from the guitarist's mildly distraught face.
"Yeah," Pete answered, picking at the opposite arm of the couch where a thread was coming loose, and his mind wandered over to tugging at it as he tried to detach himself from thins awkward situation he had gotten himself into. He stayed quiet and still for the most part, until he felt the gaze intensifying to his right, and he looked up at the other man.
"Not even gonna ask my name?" the man beside him questioned.
Oh, yeah. He didn't even know his name yet. Pete looked up to him expectantly, but when he didn't notice, he decided to just ask anyways.
"Well, then. What's your name?"
There came a drunken sort of laugh, then-
"Roger. Roger Waters."
"Ah," Pete said simply. What could he say? Nice to meet you? He had already met hi---
Fuck. Stop it.
Pete got jittery with people he didn't know when he didn't have enough alcohol running through his system. Roger had an eagle eye, though, even when he was drunk, and quickly caught onto Pete's nerves.
In fact, he found his nervousness kind of---
"You got anything to drink?" Pete asked suddenly, startling Roger out of his thoughts.
And just in time.
"Water?"
"No, I mean something like…"
"Oh. You want a beer?"
"Sure."
Roger got up and started for the kitchen, his lithe form heading into the blackened room until the garish lights of the kitchen were turned on. The friend was opened and the was the sound of cans clanging out of a six-pack.
"Just the can?" Roger's voice came back.
"Sure," Pete answered, not wanting to cause the slightest hassle.
"Alright." Roger came back in the room with a bit of a stumble in his step and fell back down on the couch, a bit closer to Pete this time.
"Here you go. Just ask if you ant another one." Roger winked as Pete gratefully took the can.
…What was that wink for?
Did he want to get him drunk?
Pete opened his can in the same time Roger had already opened his and downed half of it.
"So," Roger said, recuperating from the usually large swig with a little shake of his head. "What do you want to do tonight other than sit around and drink?"
"I don't know," Pete responded unhelpfully, taking a sip of his beer.
Roger took another swig, smaller this time.
"Huh," he pondered for a moment, got seemingly lost in his thoughts, then came back with: "You want me to call some birds up?"
"Umm…too tired," Pete lied. He didn't want to tell Roger he didn't roll that way; it might creep him out, and he didn't really want to leave. Still, once again though, Roger caught his inexcitement.
"Not that kind of bloke?" he asked, nudging Pete's arm. The guitarist smiled wearily up to him with his blue eyes and shook his head. Roger smirked.
"That's alright," he reassured him. "They're not everything to me, either."
Pete's heart did a little flip, and he stopped himself from staring.
What was that supposed to mean?
Pete was just drunk enough to ask.
"Well," came Roger's thoughtful response. "Once in a while, given the right circumstances…"
"Yeah…?" Pete ushered, looking hopeful.
Roger watched Pete's shining eyes for a moment, then laughed a bit and looked up. "I don't know. I guess what I'm trying to say is…"
"You don't mind a bloke once in a while?" Pete finished for him, head cocked, his expression haunted with teasing.
Roger pondered a moment. "Well, yeah. I guess," he mumbled, a bit embarrassed; now it was his turn to be nervous. He couldn't quite bring himself to connect his gaze with Pete's.
"Hey, what's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Pete teased, his eyes adopting a more glassy appearance as the alcohol kicked in.
"No…I just…"
"Yeah?"
Roger sighed. "You gonna finish that soon?" he asked, pointing at the drink in Pete's hand, a sort of desperation hiding in his eyes.
"Why?"
Oh right. Why. Was it wrong to want to get the heightening teasing and just slightly intriguing man beside him drunk? No. 'Course not. As long as he was fine with it.
"I don't know. It's just…I'm wasted and you're not…"
"You want to get me drunk?" Pete blurted.
"Uh, well…"Roger stammered as Pete's grin grew more and more amused. "Yeah, I guess," he admitted, giving into Pete's smile.
Pete took him up on his statement. He brought his beer up to his mouth, his eyes hanging teasingly on Roger's; Roger's eyes widened I surprise, enthralled that such a small guy could down a whole can of beer I one swig. Once he had finished the whole thing, Pete slammed down the can onto the couch beside him, giving him an anti-climactic 'poomf' and looked victoriously up at the bassist beside him.
"There" he stated before letting out a rattling hiccup.
Roger snorted, flashing a smile that held a sort of unwilling fondness that ultimately set a sort of silence over the two. The feeling was half drunken-haze and half induced by that smile Roger had just unknowingly pulled on Pete. And their closeness hadn't helped, either. Roger was now absently moving closer, the couch sighing softly under him as he moved over despite what he was telling himself only moments ago. And before either of them had time to think or do much at all, the space was sealed; Roger's legs touched Pete's and fingers were lacing into his. Pete's thumb stroked the side of his hand, making Roger impulsively accept the warm contact with a squeeze. Their little moment was rudely interrupted, no matter how intentional, by Pete who, without warning, keeled over with a groan, his head resting on Roger's chest.
"Pete?" Roger whispered, his voice only a swift flitter now through Pete's haze.
"Oh, man, I don't think I should have drank that whole thing in one go."
"I could've told you that," Roger hushed, his nimble fingers sliding up and over Pete's back and into his shining, dark hair. Pete looked up with those blue eyes of his, which were now puddled with concern, through his bangs once more and pouted. Roger's face fell and he pulled the man he was growing strangely fond of into a hug.
But, behind Roger's shoulder, unbeknownst to him, Pete's lips were curving into a sly grin that was unleashed to Roger's surprised eyes as he was suddenly pushed down by the guitarist.
"Wh---!"
"Shh," Pete cooed as he leaned over Roger, their faces dangerously close, noses almost touching; that grin of Pete's was just slightly exciting to Roger. And Pete had him pinned by the shoulders, although his hands were dying to travel down.
"So," Pete tested. "These the right circumstances?"
"I don't know. You tell me."
Pete slid one hand down Roger's chest and felt his heightened heartbead pounding at his ribs.
"Hmm," he thought with false wonderment, bringing his eye p to Roger's waiting expression. "I think they are…"
"So, Pete," Roger managed as fingers traced down to his waist. "Where's all this coming from?"
"All what?" Pete slurred, taking in Roger's form with his sight and touch.
"This. You came off as shy… not that I'm complaining."
"Well fuck it all, Roggie," Pete hiccupped. "Tonight I'm not shy. 'N I'm gonna show you." Pete promised in a low, sultry tone. And he was sure of it. He was starting new tonight. Roger didn't need to know he was usually so nervous when it came to getting intimate with other people. In fact, with Roger being basically a stranger, he could be the exact opposite if he really wanted to…