Title: Snow Angels
Author: bakichan
Fandoms: RENT

Pairings: CxA
Spoilers: a few here and there
Type of fic: slightly AT, continuous
Summary: Collins and Angel spend a day in the snow. Consequences be damned!
Author's Notes: NOTE: I have only—ONLY, seen the movie. My thoughts pretty much mimic everyone else's about the severe lack of relationshipness. Especially if they want us to believe Angel 'helped them believe in love'. Exactly when does he even do that? Movie or musical? I donno! Very unfulfilling...Rant later, fic now.

Disc: I own nothing that has to do with RENT--I don't claim to be a creator or anything silly like that! But I do own zebra stockings that look a lot like Angels' :DD

Chapter 1: Let It Snow!

Outside the loft where Angel Dumott Schunard and Tom Collins called home, snow began to fall. It was small, puffy flakes drifting seconds apart from each other to the frost-bitten earth.

Sitting on a recently bought stool by the window and balcony, Angel resisted the urge to press his face and hands against the freezing window and stare out like a small child. He absolutely loved the winter!

In his younger days, Angel could remember having gone out in a large magenta coat, yellow gloves, skin-tight green pants and clunky boots with his sister, jumping in snow-drifts and catching flakes on their tongues. They'd flop onto the ground and wave their arms, sitting up carefully with snow stuck to their hair and hats. Laughing, they'd examine their angels.

Remembering made the drag queen smile fondly. He watched kids—in the East Village?—run by below, brightly dressed. He didn't think anyone in this part of New York could afford to breed anymore.

'Oh well.' He continued to watch the life bustling hungrily outside, wishing his lover would venture back into wakefulness and join him for a drink and, yes, food. Apparently the colder it is the more people need their spirits lifted with a fabulous beat!

Or so he liked to believe.

"Angel? What'cha doin', baby?" the professor asked, slurred by a wide yawn. The shorter man twirled around, grinning broadly at his lover.

"Morning, honey." Angel replied instead, waltzing over to the other and lacing his arms around Collins' neck, leaning up for a kiss.

Collins happily obliged, warm lips pressed against his lovers.

"What's for breakfast?" he asked, when they separated, more to himself then to Angel; as there was always a somewhat lacking amount of food.

"I thought I'd treat us to some bagels this fine morning!" Angel declared happily, pulling a small pouch out from inside an empty cupboard. "I made out real well last night."

"Baby, you shouldn't always be the one paying for everything--I DO have a job, you know." The professor reminded gently, slipping his arms around the drag queens waist.

"And that money goes towards paying our rent," Angel laughed, leaning back and kissing his taller lovers nose. "What else would I use my money for, anyways?"

"Ha ha… is that a rhetorical question? I've seen you eyeing those dresses for sale down at Level Fifty." Angel frowned.

"I make my own dresses, honey. Just looking at designs!"

"You were also looking at the shoes." He pointed out.

"I can't very well make my own, can I?" they nuzzled each other for a long minute, laughing softly and just breathing the same air.

"So, why bagels?"

"We can get hot chocolate too. I feel like cheese today!"

"You sure you won't get fat?" Collins teased, already knowing the response he'd get.

"No taboo words in my house!" Angel reminded him sternly, swatting his arm.

"Yes dear."

The walk to the local deli required a trip through a park, passed a bus stop, and a trek up-hill. The two lovers held hands tightly, neither having gloves, nor chatting amiably about this-and-that.

Angel has dressed himself in an ankle-length skirt that was really just patches of old skirts and other clothes sewn together in an odd, Picasso-like fashion. He also wore a skin-tight black tank-top, underneath a long-sleeved blue coat (also ankle-length). It was tied loosely in the front by yellow yarn. He'd finished the outfit with his favorite black-bob wig, some light make-up, and 5 ½ inch heeled white boots.

Collins dressed more commonly: khaki's, a blue long-sleeve shirt, a sweat shirt and the long leather jacket Angel bought him. The knit hat he wore was pulled down low, to cover his ears and forehead.

"…and then, momma would run out crying, 'Get back inside, you two! You'll freeze!'—In Spanish, of course, but we'd laugh, and make her chase us around the yard!" Angel finished some story, laughing hard. Collins joined in sharing the lively transvestites' mirth.

"Ahh, dad was always so amused when we'd come back inside, looking like Rudolph the red nose reindeer!"

"I'd have loved to see that, Angel baby." They grinned at each other.

"We'll just have to play tag in the snow sometime."

Inside the small deli was warm, loud, and packed with homeless spending their few dollars on a warm coffee, tea, or a lightly toasted bagel. Some loitered about, no money, so they just absorbed the heat or used the public restroom.

Angel gave his lover some cash, told him what he wanted, and went to hunt them a table.

When Collins returned with a small tray holding two small cups of hot chocolate, and two bagels with all the free cheese he could grab, Angel had gotten them a two-seater by the window. The drag queen smiled warmly up at the other man, and helped unload the tray.

"It's a good thing today is Sunday," the professor sighed. "I hate taking the subway in the snow."

Angel nodded, taking a not-so feminine bit of his blue-berry bagel smothered in honey cream cheese.

"Of course, that also means I get to spend all day with you." Angel swallowed, hard; face transforming with a wide, warm smile.

"What would you do without me?" he asked lightly, ignoring what could be a deep, painful thought that came from that question. Collins, too, ignored it.

"I wouldn't be eating bagels, that's what." They leaned over the table and shared a cheesy (pun!) kiss.

"Woah, woah, woah! Some people don't wanna see that shit so early, man!" the lovers broke apart, turning their gazes to the new voice. They heard others agreeing with the boy who spoke up in their group. About eight boys were crowing around three pushed together tables. They had trash littered on the ground, and on the table-top.

"Excuse me?" Angel huffed. "No one asked you to look."

"Well no one asked you to flaunt it, did they?"

Collins frowned. "Don't talk to her like that."

A loud murmur and laughs went through the small crowd. "Her?" one piped up, sprawled out on two chairs and laughing. "Damn man, if you think that's a 'her' you need your eyes checked!"

"I bet that's all he wanted—looks!"

"If he wanted looks, he shoulda gotten a real girl! Not some fake girl!" another two argued with the first, laughing harder. Angel was frowning hard, fists clenched. Collins looked ready to stand up and show them exactly what he thought.

Angel beat him to it. The drag queen stood up, pushed his chair out of the way, and moved to the front of the table, so they could get a good look at him.

"I don't see what you're so jealous over," he told them, mocking innocence. Hands on his hips, a wry grin working onto his face. "Just because I'm prettier then any real girl you could ever get, or ever have gotten."

With that he spun back around, hips loose and in action, and grabbed his lover's hand.

"Come on; a bench opened up outside where it smells better." He said the last part louder, glancing over his shoulder to where the boys were still re-grouping that the 'fake girl' had the balls to talk to them like that.

Collins smirked, taking Angels hand and nodding. They grabbed what was left of their small breakfast and sauntered past the boys.

Once outside they broke down in giggles.

I made up a store…because I don't live in New York! XD