A/N: I'm baaaaack! I know that it's been years since I've updated but I just can't quit this story. This chapter is very Noah-Centric but more and more Cangel is coming your way! I hope you enjoy the update. Please review and feel free to talk to me on here as much as you'd like.

Disclaimer: Y'all KNOW I don't own RENT.

Friday, January 25th, 1989, 9:00 PM, EST

Noah's POV:

We spent the stroll from The Life Café back to Avenue B in complete silence. Well, at least I did. Angel and Professor Collins were going on about some protest Maureen was orchestrating to save the neighborhood food pantry, which the city was trying to bulldoze now that the holiday season was over.

Collins breath can be seen as he scoffed at the sight. "It's absolutely disgusting that Benny would even think of supporting such a blatant example of gentrification when this city's homeless population is literally dying out here in the cold."

"Well, you know Maureen will stop at nothing to make his life a living hell after the Christmas Eve fiasco," Angel smirked. "It will be fine, Tom. Between Maureen's stage presence, your writing, and Mark's footage, there is no way more people don't realize how much the food pantry is needed." Collins slid his arm around Angel's waist. His disposition had become noticeably more calm from her words. Angel always did tend to have that effect on people. Warmth just radiated off the drag queen, so much so, that even the snow beneath her boots melted by her touch.

"What do you think, Noah?" Professor Collins looked at me expectantly. Though I'm sure he was expecting something witty and insightful from me.

"Who's Benny?" This question was all I could muster.

"Benjamin Coffin the Third," came Collins' reply. I could tell by the tone of his voice that there was some deep resentment there, but the name stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Benjamin Coffin?" I stumbled in my heels on the icy street, steadying myself on Angel's shoulder. "How do you know Mr. Coffin?" I asked incredulously. This night was getting weirder and weirder.

His eyes matched my own wide ones. It quickly became clear that I wasn't the only person here that found it strange that we had two people in common; one we loved who was Angel, and one we despised, Mr. Coffin.

"Benny is a former roommate and friend of mine. We both lived with Roger, Mark, and Maureen for the better part of six months. He was actually an okay guy before corporate greed and white affluence got the best of him. Now he's all about money and the bottom line. He basically staged a riot at Maureen's protest to keep up tent city on Christmas Eve, and now he's trying to take away the food pantry to put up some sort of yuppie karaoke bar. How do you know him?"

My eyes widened with every word that he said. "Oh," I had a hard time coming up with my own reasonings after hearing all of that. "He is the top donor at my dad's church. He bought us a new main sanctuary and basketball court last year. He's done a lot for Living Faith but I never really liked the guy. I first met him as I was greeting people at the door and he looked at me like I was dirt. When he realized I was the senior pastor's son he turned on the charm, like a light switch."

Collins chuckled slightly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, sounds like Benny."

We reached a tall red brick building. Collins pulled a keyring out of the pocket of his coat, which was draped over my shoulders.

"This is us!" Angel smiled, grabbing my shoulder. "We just got a space heater and it's been warming up the apartment the whole time we've been gone." She clapped her hands lightly as Collins allowed us out of the cold first. They both started up the stairs when I began to regret my choice in footwear.

"Um… guys? What floor is your room on?" I asked, staring at my heels.

"Third floor, dear." Angel replied. She directed her gaze down to my shoes as well, a knowing expression overcoming her face.

"Just take 'em off, Noah. Never EVER do it in public, but once you're behind closed doors you can totally give your feet a little break." I gave Angel a grateful nod and bent over just enough so my dress wouldn't ride up. I unfastened the ankle straps on my heels and immediately started to feel relief. I held them in one hand as I climbed the stairs along with the couple.

Collins pulled his keyring out of his pocket yet again and unlocked the door for us, allowing Angel and me to step inside. The space heater, though a tad noisy, had really done its job. Walking into their shared space was like being wrapped up in a blanket, comfortable and warm. I took a look around the small apartment.

I admit it. I have fantasized about where Professor Collins' might live before, and this place was nothing like I had imagined. The bookshelf on the wall facing the door was not lined with philosophy textbooks or every religious text like I imagined, but was instead filled with empty Stoli bottles and Ninja Turtle action figures. The couch was large and plush, complete with rips in each of the arms and one of the cushions. It was very well loved. The coffee table had papers on it, ready to grade, but right next to it was a pipe full of something green and fluffy- definitely marijuana- and ready to smoke, complete with a rainbow lighter. I could have pointed out to him that his home life did not reflect the responsible yet friendly demeanor he maintained at school, but then again, I wasn't behaving in the way I would if I was at school either. Collins could have his marijuana, alcohol, and ninja turtles at home if he wanted. He was an adult, after all. There were posters on the walls from pasts protests Maureen must have spearheaded, and the occasional Madonna cut out from a magazine. The latter, I assumed, was Angel's touch. Her now iconic plastic pickle tub sat next to the couch and it was complete with her drumsticks perched on top.

"Welcome to mi casa, muchacho!" Collins flung his arms out in a theatrical manner before taking a seat on the couch. "Make yourself at home!"

"It's nuestra casa, since it's our home, not just yours, and Kinsey is a senorita right now, not a muchacho." Angel giggled. "I've been trying to teach him some Spanish, since he always gets annoyed when Mimi and I have secret conversations in front of him."

"What is "drag queen" in Spanish?" I asked. I couldn't help myself. Collins, who was stealthily slipping the pipe and lighter into his pocket, looked up in curiosity as well.

"Transformista!" Angel gestured to me, her accent thick.

"Ah cool, like Transformers!" Collins chimes in. "Robots in disguise!" Angel and I both looked at him disapprovingly.

"Let's get you some pj's, Kinsey. Some of mine should fit you just fine." Angel pulled me down the hallway and quickly grabbed some sweatpants and an old red T-shirt out of their room, then showed me into the bathroom where I could change in private and rinse off my makeup.

Collins POV:

Angel padded into the bedroom, giving me a small wink. As both of the drag queens in my life transformed back into their boy selves, I dug the pipe out of my pocket and sparked up, savoring the smoke that filled my lungs for only a moment before exhaling. I needed to relax. I was still keyed up from watching my youngest student get harassed by that total asshole in the middle of the street. Tonight had taken an interesting but pleasant turn. It wasn't the first time I had run into one of my students outside of class, but it was definitely the most memorable. I was glad I was there when Noah needed me, and my heart swelled with pride over Angel taking immediate action to stop any harm that would come to him. I mulled over my thoughts, letting the THC do its job as I slipped into a haze. Angel and Noah stepped out of their respective rooms in unison, walking toward me. Angel cuddled up to my side on the couch while Noah sat in our recliner to the left.

"Thanks again to you both for having me over tonight. I don't really know what else to say…" Noah tugged at the shirt Angel had given him and switched his gaze to us, eyes flickering back and forth between Angel and myself.

"It's our pleasure, sugar. You will always be welcome here. But please don't walk the streets in drag alone again. At least until you're older and know how to protect yourself. This may be a more open-minded part of the city but there are weirdos everywhere. Trust me, I know." Noah's face deflated at Angel's words. She was right, and all of us knew it.

Noah sighed and directed his next words toward me. "I just felt so, alone, you know? I always feel so…alone. I got my beginning of term assignment back from you and you wrote that comment about me needing to find some individuality in my work. "An essay is only as strong as the person who writes it", remember?"

"Yes, I remember, and-"

"No, I'm not done proff- I mean, Collins." Noah interrupted forcefully. "After you wrote that comment I saw Angel drumming on the street in drag, in broad daylight, and I thought to myself, 'why can't I be as brave as she is? Why do I allow myself to be walked all over by everyone I know? The jocks at school, my parents, even the rest of my teachers do their best to suppress every last bit of individuality I have.' After I saw Angel, as, well, Angel that day, I ran home and tried on the dress I was wearing tonight for the very first time. For two weeks I've been putting it on, practicing in heels, practicing my makeup. Going out tonight was the first time I felt truly alive, like, I've become my own person. But now you, the gay anarchist and the drumming drag queen are telling me that I should stop because I'll put myself in danger? I- I-" Noah couldn't find anymore words, something that had never happened to him in his essays.

He was overwhelmed. He was tired and fed up and exactly where I was when I was his age. I knew I had to be delicate with my next words, or risk breaking him.

"Noah, when I first started my journey as an educator, the one thing I wanted out of this job was to change the life of at least one student. I wanted to help them care about justice and formulate intelligent arguments against prejudice, and think for themselves. It's taken me two years, but I've found you. You are that student." I paused, looking him sincerely in the eyes.

"I commend you for exploring drag, something you were drawn to. I'm glad you followed your instincts and tried to emulate Angel instead of running away from her because you saw something in her that you've been forbidden to express your entire life. I want you to continue to challenge the box you've been shoved into by your parents, peers, and teachers. But I want you to do it where you're safe. Walking around New York City in full drag is something Angel has years of practice at, and she always has mace and sharp house keys at arm's length. Even now, she prefers when I walk with her when it's late at night, and I prefer it too. As Angel said, you are always welcome here. If you want to come over, even if it's just to talk or practice new stuff with your makeup or outfits, then by all means be our guest. If you want to go out you are invited to join my friends as we go out as a group. You need to accept our support, because going this alone with a family like yours could ruin your chances at growth. Or it could literally kill you."

We were all silent for a moment. Noah was still staring directly at me.

"If I decide to take you up on this… um... offer, would you mind not smoking pot in the living room the minute I step off to the bathroom? I think I'm about to gag at the smell of it." Noah smirked, and Angel and I burst out laughing.

"Deal, muchacho." I said between guffaws. I got up while Angel set up a pillow and blanket for Noah on the couch. We wished Noah goodnight and headed to our bedroom. I sunk into the mattress, holding Angel tightly in my arms.

"I love you so much. Thank you for being so wonderful," I whispered, my thumb circles into my lover's hip.

"Te amo, mi amor." Angel purred. I took her face into my hands and kissed her with as much passion as I could muster, allowing her to sink deeper into relaxation as I cradled her in my arms. Our house was full of love, and we had more than enough to extend to the smart, tired, and blooming kid sleeping on our couch.