A/N: Sorry everyone. Since my parents have always refused to take me to NYC, I haven't seen b'way play, only the movie. But I have been a fan since before the movie came out. But this story is based on what the movie shows. Hopefully there won't be too much of a difference.
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On the walk to life support, Angel and Collins didn't talk much. It hurt too much for poor Collins to breathe. His ribs were quite bruised. And Angel could sense that he was focused on making breathing easier, so he only walked beside him, keeping his arms ready to help Collins walk if he got too tired. He wasn't sure how much he was hurting, but it looked like he was pretty sore.
At life support, everyone went around and introduced themselves. Angel introduced himself, and then turned to Collins and laid a hand on his thigh.
"And this is Collins," he said. Collins quailed slightly at the unexpected touch, but just as he was beginning to enjoy his touch, even though it was slight, the drummer pulled his hand away and Collins was jerked back to reality.
"I'm Tom...Collins," he said, awkwardly.
"Welcome," said the man, who appeared to be the person in charge. And the meeting continued.
When the hour was up, and life support had finished, everyone got up and left. But Collins and Angel stayed seated uncomfortably. Finally, Angel turned to Collins.
"I'm sorry about that, honey," Angel said.
Collins looked up, bags forming under his eyes from exhaustion.
"You sort of felt startled, and I guess it didn't strike me as being sort of awkward at the moment. Especially because I have no idea if you're..." he laughed suddenly, and smiled. "If you couldn't already tell, I'm gay. I don't even know if you are or not, and I still think you're beautiful."
Collins felt his heart catch in his throat. He opened his mouth to reply, but Angel cut him off. He must have thought Collins wasn't going to reply at all.
"Oh! How could I forget! You must be so sore. I promised to get you cleaned up! How about you just come back to my house, and I'll dress those wounds. Is that alright with you, sweet? Would you rather go..."
"No, no," Collins interrupted, putting up his hands. His voice sounded scratchier than usual. "I don't have anywhere I need to... Shit!"
"What is it, dear?"
"My friends...Mark, Roger..." he sighed when he saw Angel's face. "It's nothing, though. They can wait. I was supposed to go up to my friends' apartment before I got mugged. They might be worried."
"Well, if your friends are going to worry about you..."
"It's fine, though. They'll know I'm not dead, hopefully. Besides, going out looking for me is probably the best thing Roger's done for himself since I'd left. But I won't get into that. Are we going to your apartment?"
"Yeah, if that's okay."
"It's fine. It's good."
Collins and Angel headed back to Angel's apartment. It wasn't too far away from the community center where the life support meeting was held. And sitting down for a while helped him rekindle a bit of his strength.
"So, this is my place," said Angel, as they approached the door. It was a boring brown door, but a piece of paper decorated with stickers and glitter and fabric displayed the name ëAngel Dumott Schunard' in bold lettering.
"Angel Dumott Schunard," said Collins quietly as he entered.
Angel led him into the apartment. The floor was cleaned as well as it could be, which was only decent, not good. But the furniture was still in pretty good shape. Collins took off all of his winter clothing, and set them beside where Angel had dropped his red jacket.
"Would you prefer to lay down on my bed or the couch?" Angel said, exaggerating gestures to a fully stuffed couch, and a doorway with red fabric for a door that must lead to Angel's bedroom.
Say bedroom, say bedroom, Angel willed him to think. But in his mind, he stopped himself. He was very self-aware, and he knew when he couldn't feel something. He wouldn't let himself feel that. He didn't know Collins. He didn't know if he was allowed to feel that yet.
"Well, I wouldn't want to get anything on your sheets..."
"I don't care, honey. It's your choice."
"I guess I'll go lay on the couch. I don't want to be too much trouble."
Angel smiled weakly. "Don't worry about that, sweet. It's no trouble at all. Let me go grab some ice for those bruises. Make yourself comfortable, and if you need me, just give a holler."
"Thanks," he said, and walked to the couch, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. He wanted to sleep right here, but he told himself no, he wasn't invited to stay the night. Angel had already done so much. Don't be a burden, he thought.
Angel came back with ice in a washcloth and some water.
"Here, have a drink. Do you want something besides water?"
"Water's just right."
Angel sat beside him as he drink a sip. "Angel?"
"Yeah, honey?"
"Thanks for doing this. You don't have to, it's...very generous."
"It's no problem at all, I promise you. Today for you, tomorrow for me."
"If only everyone in the world had that philosophy," he laughed. Then he looked up, and faced Angel's beautiful eyes head on for the first time. If he didn't say what he felt, he thought he would die. "About earlier," he started, "I should have told you. I'm gay too. I just couldn't say it. I don't know, I just... felt different. Scared maybe? Unsure? Whatever it was, it was one of the best feelings I've had in a really long time."
Angel looked down, and laid his hand on Collins'. "Just let the nurse take care of you, now," said Angel.
"I'm your patient," Collins said, closing his eyes and beaming.
"Tell me if this hurts, okay honey?" Angel began to lightly feel Collins' arms and chest. He grimaced a few times, and Angel's brow furrowed in concern. He slid his hands up Collins' shirt, and began to pull it off over his head.
"Do you mind if the nurse takes a look?" he asked innocently.
"Go for it, nurse Angel."
He slid off his shirt, and began to examine the damage. There were several bad bruises on his chest. Even in the bad lighting, and with his dark skin tone, the bruises stood out vividly.
Angel bit his lip. "Those look really painful. I think you'd be more comfortable if you had more room to lie down. Being so cramped probably doesn't feel too good on those ribs. Let's go to my room."
Angel helped the shirtless Collins off the couch and laid him back down on his bed, which had a leopard faux fur blanket and red pillows to match the curtain of fabric which replaced the door.
"Hopefully ice will make them pretty numb. I'll deal with the cuts after that."
It was quiet for a while as Angel iced the bruises and Collins bit his tongue to deal with the minor pain. Finally, Angel broke the silence.
"Can I show you something?" he asked.
"Of course," Collins replied, relaxing his muscles for a moment.
Angel grinned and said, "I'll be right back."
He opened the door to his closet, went in and closed the door behind him.
"What is he doing in there?" he wondered aloud. But after what seemed like a century of wondering, Angel popped back out again, clad in a slinky female Santa dress and a short black wig.
"And you should see me when I have time to put my make-up on!" he said as he bounced over to a very shocked Collins. "So what do you think? I was going to wear it for Christmas."
Collins smiled, but he didn't say a word. He was still taking it all in.
"Sweet, you're going to have to say something!" he... she... said impatiently.
"Angel," he whispered, and stood up.
"Honey, at least stay laying down. You're exhausted, you should..."
Be he cut Angel off in mid-sentence. "You're beautiful," he said.
And with those words, he walked towards her until she was against the wall, and their noses were touching gently. Finally, Collins leaned forward, and their lips met for a brief moment. They smiled, and looked into eachother's eyes.
"Now will you lay down?" Angel whispered anxiously.
"Sure," Collins replied, taking her hand in his, and pulling her onto the bed beside him.
After a moment of laying there, staring into space, Collins turned onto his side to face Angel, who was still looking at the celling.
"What are you thinking?" Collins asked.
"I'm thinking this is the beginning of something beautiful," said Angel. "And you?"
"I'm thinking... that I'm going to love you."
Angel rolled over to face Collins, and they kissed each other again and again. A thousand sweet kisses to help Collins get to sleep, even when his heart was racing with love and excitement. The first of many kisses that would seal true love between the two lovers. Collins was right. He was going to love Angel, for the rest of his life.
