Laundromat Epiphany
Disclaimer: I own no one!
Pairing: Collins/Angel
Summary: After the Dryer breaks, Collins gets sent to the Laundromat. Once he arrives, he's mad. As he does the laundry, he realizes just how much he loves her and what she means to him.
A/N- Fluffy Collins/ Angel… YAY! Rated "T" for sexual Innuendos.
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Balancing the black wire basket on his hip, Tom Collins cursed his new lover, Angel. How hard was it to call a repairman on her day off? How hard was it to realize the dryer had been broken for weeks? How hard was it to say 'I'm sorry about the dryer. Let me help you with the laundry'?
"Angel, why do I put up with you?" he grumbled, throwing clothing into an industrial sized machine. "Why do I put up with the stupid shit you do?" Groaning, he stooped to pick up the clothing that had fallen out of the basket.
Glancing down, he realized he had dropped Angel's underwear. The silk pink briefs made him smirk. They were purely Angel, and Collins could only imagine Angel in them.
Until Angel, Collins had been comfortable, never doing laundry. There had been nothing wrong with dropping off a few things at the Dry Cleaner, and doing laundry once a year. Now, he had to show off his domestic skills, even if he despised laundry.
Remember you're still mad at him, Collins thought, placing the briefs in the washer. It's his fault you're in here,
Placing coins into the washer, he watched water cascade into the machine. As the clothing began to swish around, his eyes fell upon the industrial sized bottle of detergent. It was the first time he could remember buying laundry soap in a LONG time.
Before Angel, he had no need for it.
"Mark?" Collins murmured, jerking his head up. He couldn't help but notice the blonde man stumble into the Laundromat. "I thought Roger did the laundry,"
"He does," Mark said, setting the bag aside. "Maureen needed help, since she's babysitting for Joanne's cousin. She needs clothing, but doesn't want to drag Bethany to the Laundromat, so, she and Jo bribed me with dinner at the Life," He sighed, dumping the bag on the table. "Ugh…" Collins cocked his head. "Maureen's thongs" Collins shivered.
"My dear Angel forgot to get our dryer fixed, so, I'm doing laundry," Collins pointed over his shoulder to a small pile of bags and baskets. "I need to sort it though,"
"Let me help," Mark suggested, dumping clothes into a washer. "I'm just grateful Joanne's anal about sorting and separating,"
Collins preferred to handle Angel's clothes himself. For some reason, it seemed so dirty for anyone but to him to even handle her underwear.
You're mad at her. He thought, looking at the men's shirt stained with paint. Don't smile. He sighed, wondering why she was so hard to be mad at. He had never had this much trouble with any of his past relationships.
"Collins?" Mark murmured, jolting the other man out of his thoughts. "Did you ever see yourself washing a bra?" He gestured to the lacy garment in Collins' hand. "Because I honestly never saw you washing a bra,"
"Nope," he admitted, tossing the black bra into the colored pile. "I also never thought I would have to deal with lipstick on my collar. Gay men typically don't wear lipstick,"
"True," Mark murmured. "You're gay for a reason," His nose wrinkled. "Ugh, why can't I escape thongs?"
"Escape thongs?" Collins questioned. Mark nodded, holding up a sky blue thong. "Give me that!" How did Angel's underwear get mixed in with his clothing? He shook his head, catching the garment from Mark.
"Okay, I have to ask," Mark muttered, continuing to sort laundry. "You go through ONE outfit a day. How is it that you have so much laundry?"
"I live with Angel. She changes her clothes for everything. If she's lounging around the house, she changes. If we're going to the Life, she changes. Life support, another outfit all on its own," He laughed.
"I know how that is." Mark said. "Maureen's like that." Collins nodded, remembering distinctly how laundry day could be hell with Maureen who changed up to four times a day. "Although I never can see Angel in Sweatpants,"
"She had a cold," Collins said, remembering just how worried he had been to hear Angel cough. "So, when she's sick, she doesn't bother dressing feminine. She says it's too much trouble because she'll only end up coughing hard enough to puke and ruin her favorite dress,"
"Collins?" Mark muttered, his voice holding a note of horror. "Why are there condom wrappers in your pocket?" The foil packets glistened in the Laundromat's harsh fluorescent lighting. "Banana flavored ones at that?"
Collins blushed, not wanting to reveal that story to Mark. Suddenly, it seemed to embarrassing to recount the story of the "fun" he and Angel had in his office over at NYU.
"Let's just say she visited me at lunch, and I was too embarrassed to have them found in the trashcan,"
To Collins' idle mind, the laundry seemed to take forever. However, just as the sky began to darken, he folded the last piece of clothing and settled it into a bag.
Finally! He thought, irritated at having wasted a perfectly good afternoon with laundry. Why does she see the need to change so much?
Then, the unmistakable sound of high heels on tile filled the Laundromat. Jerking his head up, he was surprised to see Angel hovering above him.
"Ready to go?" she said, with a smile. "I thought I would help you and then maybe we can meet up with Maureen and Jo at the Life," Collins focused his gaze on the ground.
You're mad at her. He reminded himself. Stay mad!
"I got the dryer fixed," she murmured, smirking. "Actually, it was cheaper to just get one for thirty from Enrique at the thrift store, and the Super installed it." She sighed, as if sensing his anger. "I'm sorry,"
"Don't apologize," he murmured, glancing up. "I had no right to get mad. It's your place, and I was just agitated and…" He struggled to find the word.
"PMS'ing?" Angel offered. "I've got this theory about gay guys. They're moody and have PMS. I learned to accept it a long time ago," She sighed.
Collins threw himself into her arms. He hated being mad at her. It made him crazy.
"I'm starving." He admitted. "I've spent the entire afternoon here with just Diet Coke,"
"Diet Coke?" Angel feigned horror. "You drank Diet Coke?" Collins nodded. "Poor baby." Her eyes brightened. "Does this place have a bathroom?" Collins nodded. Angel grabbed his hand and dragged him to the door.
As he entered the room, Collins couldn't believe that he had ever been mad at Angel.
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