So, this is a diversion from the other storyline. It's rpf based on a conversation I had with Sparkysparky from LJ, but it's hardly reality based. Enjoy!

Mark thinks maybe this is the weirdest turn his life has ever taken when he pulls on Chris' undershirt and it doesn't budge. Chuckling in confusion, he asks, "What, is this thing glued on?"

"Leave it," Chris says, distracting Mark by shoving a hand into his Batman boxers.

An hour later, Mark's sore and definitely feels like he's no longer in his early twenties, but damn, it was worth it. At least, until he feels the ribbing of Chris' undershirt pressing his skin into his ribs. "C'mon," he says sleepily, running one hand down the side seam to the bottom edge and slipping his fingertips along the soft skin of Chris' hip. "Take this off?"

"Can't," Chris replies, pulling Mark closer and inhaling the skin on the top of his head.

"There's no one else here, man," Mark insists. "You don't want me to see you?"

"No, I literally can't," Chris replies as he pushes away, leaving Mark's front side cold in comparison. Mark flops back on the bed and the explanation he's expecting just doesn't come. Instead he hears the rustle of fabric and when he opens his eyes, Chris is wearing his jeans and is halfway through pulling his transformers t-shirt back on.

Mark frowns and kneels up on the bed so he can grab Chris' wrist. "Where're you going? What's going on? What, am I the other woman or something?" He laughs, but it's awkward and suddenly it seems really obvious that his dick is hanging out and Chris is fully clothed.

"I don't like down time," Chris says, brushing off Mark's hold and Mark then feels like there's something weirder going on than the fact that he finally got to sleep with Chris Colfer.

"Hey, hey," Mark says, following Chris through the hallway and catching him around the waist before he can reach for his shoes. "What's going on? I thought we had something going here. Was I - was I just fucking making this up in my head?" Man, he wishes there'd been time to grab his underwear from the bedroom floor.

Chris gets quiet and shakes his head. His jaw clenches, but he doesn't start crying or anything, so Mark knows he's not acting.

"So, what?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

Mark rolls his eyes and steps back a little, but he keeps Chris' hand in his. "You know how gullible I am," he says, giving Chris his best wounded puppy look. "I'll believe anything you say, babe."

"So you'd believe me if I said my undershirt is bonded to my skin and is the only thing keeping me from world domination?"

Mark laughs and automatically says, "Sure!" He loves Chris' sense of humor.

Only Chris isn't laughing. Man, he must have practiced keeping a straight face with Jane all the time this last season in order to hold it now.

Mark, still sure Chris is joking, brings his free hand up to Chris' shoulder and pushes the collar of his t-shirt aside. He tries to work a finger under the strap of Chris' tank top, but somehow he can't get it to budge.

"Please, don't," Chris sighs, but Mark just frowns and tries again.

Then pulls his finger back and sticks it in his mouth. He takes it out long enough to ask, "Did your shirt just shock me?" before sticking it back in.

Chris' shoulders slump and he nods. "He says that hurt. Don't do it again."

"Iht hurht?" Mark asks, his finger still in his mouth. Popping it out, he continues, "What the fuck is going on?"

Chris rolls his eyes and huffs, but opens his mouth and says, "When I was fourteen, I got bored being homeschooled and tried to take over the world. I got as far as the nuclear launch codes for America, China, and Argentina before they caught me."

Mark wants to laugh again, but there's something about Chris' expression that takes the wind out of his sails. Now he really wishes he was wearing pants. "And the shirt?"

"He's an AI monitoring device hooked into my spinal cord. If I don't stay away from everything politics and military, he alerts the authorities," Chris explains, like it's the millionth time he's said this. Who has he been telling this story to besides Mark?

"They couldn't just bug your computer or something?" Mark's sure he's having the most elaborate and the strangest sex dream of his life.

"This is the only thing they're sure I can't get around," Chris shrugs. "It's like having a tattle-tale hooked into my brain."

"Is that even legal?" Mark asks, risking a poke to Chris' shirt, as if to make sure he's not crazy. Though, if anyone was crazy in this situation it was Chris.

"No, but it was either this or life in prison, so..."

"And it-"

"He," Chris interrupts simply.

"And he talks to you?"

"On occasion." Chris gives Mark an assessing look before asking, "Why aren't you freaking out?"

Mark does laugh at that before replying, "Because I'm naked and you're not and I totally believe you almost took over the world. Is it weird that I find that hot?"

Chris grins and steps back out of his shoes.