"You know," Midnighter suggested suggestively, "you could turn off that TV, baby."

"Uh-huh." Apollo shoved another handful of popcorn in his mouth, eyes glued to the TV.

Midnighter draped himself over the back of the chair, sliding a hand down over Apollo's broad chest. He was wearing only underwear and his cowl. "You've been watching that Friends marathon for eight hours now."

"Yeah."

"You've seen all the episodes already."

"Mm."

"I really want sex."

"Mm?"

"Yeah. Now."

"Uh-huh."

Midnighter considered, then straightened and walked around in front of the TV.

"Hey!" Apollo protested, then sputtered louder when Midnighter put his fist through the screen. "HEY! I was watching that!"

"We'll buy another TV tomorrow."

Flailing like an unhappy gay man denied his Friends fix, Apollo cried, "But the marathon will be over tomorrow!"

Midnighter smirked and sauntered back over to the sofa, sliding into Apollo's lap. "I know."

Apollo considered this, eyes narrowed, then shrugged and put his hands down Midnighter's underwear. Whatever.

***

One room over, Angie covered her face as the noises started. The worst bit was how loud they were, she decided, staring at the poster of Johnny Depp on her ceiling.

Sadly, she'd found it immensely awkward to continue masturbating whenever they started up and she could hear it. It just felt too kinky, somehow.

She guessed she'd have to wait.

Three hours later, she revised her previous position - the worst bit was how long they took. She was pretty sure, just from what she heard, that they took turns topping all night and neither had a refraction period longer than a minute. Fucking superheros.

Moderately peeved, she leaned over and banged on the wall with both fists. "HEY!" she shouted. "SOME of us can't get any, and we'd like to pretend nobody else was, either! KEEP IT DOWN!"

That might have been a sorry, or just another muffled cry. It was hard to tell.

They didn't stop.

***

The next day, the rest of them were lounging about the control center. "I dunno," the Doctor said, fingering the bend of his elbow nervously. "What do we do if we get called out on a mission while they're busy?"

Jack snorted. "Easy-"

"Kick the door down and throw their spandex at them," Angie muttered. "You know, I just don't like the way they rub it in."

The innuendo passed unremarked upon, for which she was grateful. Jack cleared his throat. "How so?"

"Like, I'd like to get some, but instead, I have to listen to THEM doing it."

Idly, Jack slung his arm around her shoulders. "You know, Angie, if you're interested-"

"I don't think so, Jack. Relationships between co-workers never work out."

The three of them pondered the monitor, which was displaying Apollo and Midnighter's closed bedroom door.

"...Really?"

Angie grumbled. "That's it," she said, and sent an extra manifestation of herself down there. "I'm going in with a bucket of cold water."