Disclamier: Not mine ever.

Author's Note: Don't even ask.

"Jesus!" Collins yelped as he burst into the loft. "It's fuckin' hot!"

Mark looked at he and Angel wearily. "We know."

Mark was in jeans and held a pair of scissors between his teeth, trying to cut them into shorts or something. Roger was still in black, facedown on the kitchen counter, not moving or speaking. His arms hung limply from his sides.

"You know what? The heat can go fuck itself," Collins said angrily, stripping his clothing. Mark glanced up from his task.

"WHOAWHOAWHOA---I've seen you naked more times than I ever needed to. Well... Actually, I'd be perfectly happy never seeing you naked," Mark said, raising an eyebrow. Collins sighed, stopping at this boxers. Yellow with little smiling heads of lettuce.

Roger wearily lifted his head up, glancing at Collins and Angel. "The fuck, man? Fuckin' lettuce?"

Collins glanced down, shrugging. "Hey. I like 'em." Angel smirked.

"I like 'em too, honey," She said, tugging on the waistband slowly. Mark held his hand up, eyes not even moving from his torn pants.

"No sex in the loft while Mark's present."

"Hey, you know, I feel a lot better in my underwear," Collins remarked, laying on the couch. "Y'all should try it sometime!" Angel thought for a moment.

"Okay." She too stripped down to her underwear---metallic purple with the words 'SEX GOD' on the back. She had added 'DES' to it with a black sharpie.

Mark and Roger gaped.

"Seriously, man. Just let go. It's like, twenty degrees cooler," Collins said, stretching out. Angel nodded.

"You know what? I think I will. I friggen think I will," Roger said, a hint of madness in his eyes. "The heat wants to fuck with us? We'll fuck with it right back!" And with that, he promptly removed his clothes. Black boxers with a small silver guitar on the left leg. Collins and Angel cheered.

"C'mon, Mark, join the no-pants party!"

Mark wearily sighed. "You're serious?" The three nodded.

"Well... Alright..." Mark slowly removed his clothes. The three stifled laughter.

"What?" Mark said, irritated.

He was wearing Spiderman briefs.

Angel pointed down, hand over her mouth.

"Huh? " He looked down. "Ooohhhhh..." Mark turned a very violent red.

"Yeah... Mark, why don'tcha explain yourself?" Collins smirked, crossing his arms.

"Uh... Well... Okay. Don't judge these because they've got comic book character themes. These, actually, are quite comfy. They're stretchier than most brands, not too thick, warm yet cool, and come in rather fun colors," He said, rather casually. The three other friends stood, frozen.

"AND I LIKE SPIDERMAN, OKAY?" He yelled, holding up the scissors.

"Okay, man, okay!" Collins said, holding up his hands. "We ain't judgin'!"

"Yeah, yeah, Mark, put the scissors down," Angel said, taking a step towards him. "It's okay, I like your Spiderman underpants."

Mark put them down. "Sorry guys... I... I get protective."

He paused, a tear in his eye. "You know... I really love all of you guys. Group hug?"

And then the four friends hugged, resting together peacefully.

That is, until Mimi walked in with the groceries.


The four men froze.

"What is this, some kind of freaky foursome? And is that Spiderman?"