AN: No, I haven't read all the Rent-fics out there. This is meant as a joke. Take it as one. Okay?

"Honey, I'm home!" Roger announced when he came in through the front door, guitar case in one hand, grocery bag in the other.

"Welcome home, dear." Mark, who was sitting at the kitchen table, decided to play along. "How was work at the factory today?"

"Same old, same old," Roger replied and closed the door behind him. "Where are the kids, doing their homework?"

"Well, not exactly, dear," Mark said. "Daniel is robbing the bank down the street, and Sarah is auditioning for a job at the Cat Scratch Club."

Roger glared at his roommate as he put the grocery bag on the table.

"That was so cruel, Mark," he said. "Can't you at least let me have an imaginary normal family life?"

"Not with me as the lovely house wife, no."

"I never said anything about you being lovely."

"Oh, come on. I'm adorable and you know it."

"Whatever." Roger took a carton of milk out of the bag and put it in the near empty refrigerator.

"Why do you keep buying milk?" Mark asked. "None of us drinks it."

"Well, we should," Roger said. "It contains lots of calcium and vitamins and stuff."

"Stuff?" Mark said with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah, stuff," Roger said vaguely and decided to change the subject. "Have you been sitting in front of that thing all day?" he asked, nodding towards the laptop Mark had in front of him on the table.

"Pretty much, yeah." Mark stretched his arms behind his back and winced when they made a cracking sound.

"So, the latest Christmas gift from your mother was a bigger hit than the hotplate, huh?"

"You bet," Mark said, typing something. "She seems to think that it will inspire me to find a 'real job' for some reason."

"When will she ever learn?" Roger sighed. "What are you doing?" he asked then, walking around Mark trying to peer over his shoulder.

"Nothing," Mark said quickly and closed the laptop before Roger had a chance to see anything.

"Well, if it's just 'nothing', why can't you let me see it?"

"It's nothing interesting. I'm just writing an e-mail to this documentary film maker, you know, a person that makes, eh, documentary… films."

"Uh huh?"

"Yep." Mark nodded eagerly.

"You're reading that stuff again, aren't you? I thought we agreed to stop doing that."

"I'm not, honest!"

Roger grabbed the laptop and, ignoring the protesting sounds from Mark, opened it to reveal the recognisable layout of fanfiction.net. He raised his eyebrows and stared accusingly at Mark.

"What's this then?"

Mark managed to accomplish a facial expression similar to the one of a kicked puppy.

"Eh, oops?"

"Mark."

"I was just checking if there were any new stories, ok? And then I started reading a little, and…"

"Right," Roger said. "So, what was the plot this time? No, let me guess. You are in love with me, I'm completely oblivious, I find out, acts like a complete asshole, you get depressed, I change my mind and realise that I've been in love with you too all this time, and then we live happily ever after. Am I close?"

Mark smiled.

"Is there any other plot?"

Before Roger had a chance to reply, the door opened and Benny came in, humming one of ABBA's old hits.

"Money, money, money, always sunny in a rich man's world," he sang as he closed the door. "Hi guys!"

"Benny, come on," Roger complained. "Isn't it enough that you own our building, are you trying to steal my music career now too?"

Benny's eyes widened in surprise.

"Me? Would I do such a thing?"

"Yes!" the other two chorused.

"Well, yeah, I would," Benny admitted. "But I won't. I'm far too busy to indulge in such trivialities."

"Thanks a lot," Roger muttered.

"You're welcome!" Benny smiled innocently. "I think that the others are on their way up, by the way. I think I recognised the voices shouting for me to hold the elevator."

"And you ignored them, of course," Mark said.

"Of course," Benny agreed. "There's no way I'd voluntarily lock myself in a small enclosed space with Maureen and Joanne. Those two make an episode of Jerry Springer seem like a stroll in the park."

"And yet you managed to live in the same apartment as Maureen for two years", Roger said.

"And yet you were surprised when I moved out," Benny replied. "Besides, that wasn't as bad. Mark never fought back."

Mark made a face and turned back to his laptop.

"My, my, aren't you turning into a regular computer geek," Benny said. "What are you doing, checking if you got any replies to your personal ad?"

Roger dropped the open bottle of coke he was about to put in the refrigerator and stared at Mark in shock.

"You placed a personal ad?"

Mark laughed nervously.

"Of course not! That's ridiculous! Since when do you listen to what Benny says?"

Roger looked relieved and bent down to start wiping off the coke that was slowly spreading on the kitchen floor. Mark grabbed hold of Benny's collar and brought the other man's face close to his own.

"You mention one more word about that ad, and I'll tell Roger exactly what really happened to his guitar that New Year's Eve," he said lowly so that Roger wouldn't hear.

Benny raised his arms in surrender and backed off.

"My lips are sealed," he mouthed.

"I mean, is it too much to ask?" Maureen's voice could be heard even before she opened the door. "Is it so hard to just hold the goddamn elevator?"

"No Maureen," Joanne and Collins, who came in right behind her chorused and rolled their eyes at each other.

"Someone didn't hold the elevator?" Benny shook his head. "Some people."

Maureen glared at him and turned to Mark.

"Why is he here? Is he allowed to be here? I thought we didn't like him. Or was that last week?"

Mark shrugged.

"He pays for stuff. And he's actually kind of amusing sometimes. It's a bit like having a trained monkey."

Benny scowled as the rest of them laughed.

"Having fun down there?" Collins asked Roger, who was still wiping the floor.

"Oh yes!" Roger answered gleefully. "I've realised that this song writing crap isn't really taking me anywhere, so I figured I might as well find myself an old millionaire to marry, and I'm currently practising how to be a good housewife."

"Sounds reasonable," Collins nodded. "Anything else going on?"

"Mark's reading fanfiction about us again," Roger offered, ignoring the glare he received from his best friend.

Maureen rolled her eyes, Joanne snorted, Collins laughed and Benny looked positively thrilled.

"Fanfic!" he said, looking as though he was about to clap his hands and start bouncing up and down. "That is so great! So, who did I score with this time?"

The others stared at him.

"What are you talking about?" Mark asked.

"Are you kidding me?" Benny said. "I always get to have sex in those stories. I think I've slept with everyone in this room."

Mimi came in through the door just in time to hear the last comment, and gaped in shock.

"What?"

"We're talking about fanfics," Joanne explained and Mimi sighed with relief.

"Thank God," she said. "For a moment there, I thought the world was coming to an end."

"Don't worry, Mimi," Roger said, his voice a bit strained. "You're still the only one who's had the… erm… pleasure in real life."

Benny opened his mouth to speak, but a death glare from Maureen made him change his mind. Collins, who noticed that both Mimi and Roger were feeling more than a bit uneasy, decided to steer the conversation back to safer ground.

"So, Benny," he said. "Are you saying that you've been written together with all of us?"

"Well, maybe not exactly all of you," Benny admitted. "But close enough."

"Not with me." Mark said.

"Thank heaven for small miracles." Benny said.

"Yeah, I… hey!"

Benny grinned and continued.

"No, not with Marky, but with the rest of you. I've had sex with Mimi, I've had sex with Maureen, I've had sex with Roger, I've had sex with Joanne," he pretended not to notice that Joanne shuddered, "and for some reason, I've had a lot of sex with Collins."

Collins smiled.

"That's because we're so incredible hot together," he said and pinched Benny's butt.

Benny yelped!

"Hey! No groping the straight married man!"

"That's never stopped him before," Roger muttered under his breath and winced when his girlfriend elbowed him in his stomach.

"Those fanfic writers kind of freak me out," Mimi said, ignoring the pain she caused Roger. "They all just seem to want to kill me off, so that Roger can live happily ever after with Mark."

"That's what I've been saying!" Roger complained. "Why do they do that? I mean, Mark? Come on! I could do so much better."

"Hey!"

"Mark, you're my best friend, and all, but… you're not just my type. Even if you don't mind the whole wrong gender thing, you're so not my type. God, even Benny is more my type than you."

"I knew it." Benny smiled contentedly.

Mark sulked.

"I get the point. You don't have to be so convincing. It's not like I have a good time in those stories anyway. I'm just depressed and suicidal all the time."

"Well, at least you're in them," Joanne said. "I appear in about 1.4 % of the fics."

"Me too," Maureen muttered. "I don't get it! Why don't they write about me! I'm the most interesting character! Well I am!" she said when she noticed the other's disbelieving looks. "And yet, there are hardly any stories about me."

"The writers are probably thinking it's too hard to capture the very essence of you and writing it down on paper. They feel that they wouldn't do you justice," Collins said diplomatically.

Maureen cocked her head.

"Yeah, that's probably it. After all, I am a very complex person. I can see how they would have problems with that."

Joanne turned away so Maureen wouldn't see her laughing.

"I think I have the same problem as Mark, myself," Collins continued. "According to the fics, I spend all my time at Angel's grave, moaning, crying and thinking about killing myself. He's been dead for ages, now! Those writers mourn him more than I do. Get over it! He's passed on! He has ceased to be! He's expired and gone to meet his maker! He's a stiff! Bereft of life, he rests in peace!"

Silence.

"Been watching Monty Python again, have you?" Mark said.

"Yeah. I need something to do. Wallowing in my own misery gets old pretty fast, you know."

"So, let me see if I get this correctly," Joanne said. "Basically, Roger's a bastard, me and Maureen are ignored, Mimi gets killed, Mark and Collins are depressed and suicidal and Benny get sex."

The others nodded.

"Oh yes, these writers will grow up and become psychopaths, I'm sure of it."

"Should we feel sorry for them?" Mark asked.

The all looked at each other.

"Nah!"

"Well, this whole thing has been pretty pointless, haven't it?" Mimi said, and tugged on Roger's sleeve. "Come on, let's go to bed."

"But I'm not tired," Roger objected.

Mimi sighed impatiently and whispered something in Roger's ear that made his eyes widen.

"Oh! Oh. Bed. Nice. Bye!" They disappeared into Roger's bedroom.

Maureen and Joanne looked at each other, smiled, waved and left quickly.

"Come on, Benny," Collins said as he grabbed his jacket. "Let's grab a beer somewhere." He held the door open for Benny and winked at Mark. "Who knows. Maybe I'll try to seduce the straight married man."

The door closed and Mark sighed in relief. Alone at last. He turned back to his laptop and opened the Word window he had closed the second he'd heard Roger's key in the door. Scrolling down to the last page he began writing where he'd left off.

"I never knew you felt that way," Mark said, looking at the hand that was holding his.

"I've always felt this way," Benny said. "I've always loved you, Mark."

"But… all the others. Allison, Mimi, Maureen, Collins…"

"I was only trying to get my mind off you. I knew I couldn't get you."

"You've got me now," Mark said shyly and looked into the eyes of the man he loved.

"Yes. I've got you now. And I'm never letting you go," Benny said, before his lips closed over Mark's.

Mark closed his eyes and let himself drown in the kiss. This was how it was supposed to be.

The End.

Mark smiled to himself as the typed the last words. Finally, his masterpiece was finished. He logged into his fanfiction.net account and clicked on Upload Story. He couldn't wait to get the reviews on this one.

The very, very, very end.