Yes, another stupid, pointless chapter. Can you tell I've had absolutely nothing to do lately? Hmm, yeah. Well, the end of this one does have a point, and it's a good segue into the next part of the story. Okay, don't flame me TOO bad, take pity on me, I'm bored. Um okay, enough rambling. I hope you guys enjoy this one. I promise something significant will happen soon.

Chapter 25: Spring Cleaning and Pink Paint.

"Spring cleaning time!" Angel called from the bathroom as he opened the bathroom door, emerging in a true springtime outfit. His blonde wig bounced on his shoulders, the white and blue checked dress falling dangerously above his knees, was accented by baby blue wedge heels. Even his makeup was light and spring-y, with glittery pink lips and various shades of blue and silver on his eyelids. Plucking a fresh daisy from the vase of flowers on his nightstand, Angel placed it between the false blonde strands.

"Ang, you look nice," Will said, whistling at him, "What's the occasion?"

"Spring cleaning, darling. We need to fix this house up," Angel insisted, wrinkling his nose as he looked at the tomato-sauce stained walls in the kitchen. "That food fight a couple of months ago was a lot of fun, but our kitchen is disgusting, and if there's one thing I can't stand it's -,"

"A dirty house, yes, dear, I know. My living habits have become immaculately clean since I've been living with you. I'm aware of your utter dislike for dirt," he sighed and glanced around the kitchen. He had to admit that it was getting a bit gross, and the tomato sauce stains on the walls didn't exactly help. "What do you suggest we do?"

"Get some paint from Queenie and paint the kitchen," he stated, as if there was no question as to what would be done.

"This won't cost anything, will it?" Will asked nervously.

"You have been so uptight about money lately, what's the deal?" Angel asked, slightly frustrated. "I hate it when you keep things from me. You get this little protective shell and you don't talk to me. I can't stand it. You can tell me anything, baby, you know that," he pleaded.

"Come here," Will said, holding out his arms to embrace Angel. Obediently, he walked into Will's arms and held around his waist in a long embrace, "There's nothing wrong, I swear."

"Are you sure? You know whatever it is, I'll be more than willing to help you out," Angel pried, hoping to get something out of his lover.

"Yes, yes. I'm sure. You know I'd tell you if there was a problem, Angel, I hate keeping things from you, you know that," Will insisted, pulling back slightly from Angel, looking down into his vibrant amber eyes.

"Okay. but, to answer your question, no, it won't cost anything. Queenie's got a lot of leftover paint from when she renovated backstage a few months ago," Angel said, still skeptical about Will hiding something.

"What color?"

"Pink!" Angel exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he said it.

"Pink?! Does our kitchen really have to be pink? I mean, I could understand purple, but pink?"

"It'll be nice. And it's bright pink, you know, more magenta. Kinda like that pink dress I wore the first time I met you. It's a really nice color, and we'll make it look good, I promise."

"What, with your impeccable sense of style and taste, I bet we'll be okay," Will said, holding Angel's hand.

"So, let's get the paint and begin!" Angel exclaimed, excitedly.

With that, the two lovers were off to the club to get the extra paint to repaint their dirty kitchen.

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"I can't believe we're actually doing this," Will said, more to himself, as he and Angel walked back into the apartment. It was extremely warm outside for the spring afternoon, and both men were quite anxious to be back into their home, which provided a bit of relief from the beastly heat.

"I am so excited, darling, we are going to have the most beautiful kitchen in this building. People are gonna come over and they will be like 'Oh my gawd, how did you get your kitchen like that?' and we'll be like 'We did it ourselves, you like?' and -,"

"Angel, baby, you're rambling," Will smiled, putting his finger to Angel's lips.

Kissing his finger, Angel smiled, "Sorry. I'm just excited, that's all, and I know it'll turn out great."

"I know it will too," he said, quietly, holding Angel up against him. Even in the sweltering heat, the warmth of the drag queen's body still felt wonderful against his. Some passionate kissing and heavy groping began. It took Angel walking into the can of paint to break their embrace, making them realize that there was, in fact, work to be done.

"Time to paint," Angel mumbled, stepping back from Will and selecting a large, wooden-handled paint brush from the tin that Queenie had given them.

Selecting an equally large brush, Will popped the top off the can of paint, and both men stared blankly at the substance inside.

"Baby, am I seeing things?" Will asked.

"Honey, I know my colors very well, and this is not magenta. This is. it looks like salmon-colored. Kind of an orange pink," Angel pointed out. "I don't want a salmon kitchen," he whined, "I wanted magenta!!"

"Calm down. Maybe the salmon will look nice," Will offered, hopefully.

"Maybe," he sighed.

"Angel, if there's one thing I know about you, it's that you can turn anything into something stylish. You have a knack for style and fashion unlike anyone I've ever seen."

Blushing slightly, Angel had to smile, "I can't deny that I have a special instinct for fashion," he sighed again, "I guess it'll turn out okay. I mean, if we don't like it, we can always have another food fight and change the colors of the walls again."

Will laughed in response, "That's true. So you just wanna paint the whole thing?"

"Yup, top to bottom. Maybe I should get changed, though. I do not want to get anything on this dress, it's one of my all-time favorites," Angel said, then rushed off into their bedroom to put on something he didn't mind getting dirty.

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Minutes later, Angel emerged from the bedroom in Lenny's old, faded basketball shirt with the holes and rips on the bottoms, and a pair of old, tattered sweatpants, also which used to belong to Lenny.

Raising an eyebrow and holding out his arms for Angel to hug him, Will sighed, "No matter what you wear, you always look wonderful."

"Baby," Angel giggled, hugging his lover, "You're making me blush."

Staying in the hug for quite sometime, Will abruptly broke away. "We really need to do this."

"I know, I know. Focus, Angel girl," he said to himself, placing his fingers on his temples and closing his eyes. His makeup was still fully applied, his eyelids sparkling under the dim lighting as he shut them.

"Let's begin," Will said, taking the brush and stroking a big stripe of pinkish-orange paint onto the stained wall.

The painting was going along well, until Will decided that the wall had more than enough paint. Angel, on the other hand, need some more. Smiling slyly, he dipped the brush into the paint, and wiped a large blob of the thick paint onto Angel's arm.

"Eek! It's cold!" Angel yelped as the paint came in contact with his soft skin. "Why do you always have to start these things?" he questioned, wiping the excess paint from his brush onto the front of Will's shirt without hesitation.

"I love this shirt!" He yelled, and then proceeded to fling more paint onto Angel, getting it in his hair, on his face, and all over the ripped, faded shirt.

"Whoooaaaa," Angel said, closing his eyes and laying the paint brush down into the paint, "You have tampered with my makeup. It is payback time, honey!"

With that, he leaped on top of Will, who failed to lose his balance, leaving Angel clinging to his back, attempting to wrestle him to the floor.

"Hon, I love you, but there's no way you can wrestle me. I was a wrestler in high school, and I weigh quite a bit more than you do," Will stated calmly as Angel was frantically attempting to get both himself and his lover onto the floor. Will picked him up, swung him around his body, and threw the boy onto the floor, straddling him firmly. "Pinned."

"Grrr," Angel grumbled trying to get Will off of him, with no avail. Giving up on wrestling Will, Angel yanked his lover's body on top of his, kissing his lips firmly. Pulling away and smiling he laughed, "This is way better than wrestling."

"Indeed.," Will trailed off, kissing Angel again, engaging in yet another steamy make out session.

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"God, I'm so tired," Angel said, yawning and stretching.

Sneaking up behind him and grabbing him around the waist, Will kissed his neck. He giggled and held onto the strong arms wrapped around him. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, smelling a mix of Will's cologne and the fresh paint that lingered on both of them after a day of hard labor. Between the make out sessions, they had actually managed to paint their entire kitchen with the sickeningly-bright salmon paint that Queenie had given them. The job would have probably gone a lot faster, had it not been for their strong sex drive, which seemed to increase every spring. Perhaps it was something in the air.

"Go to bed, babe, you sound exhausted," Will said, picking up Angel and carrying him to the bed, letting him down lightly and tucking him in. "Goodnight, beautiful."

"Will you go to sleep soon?" Angel asked, looking up at Will, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with Angel's black curly hair, wet from the shower he had just taken.

"Yeah, soon. Don't wait up for me, though, I need to do some paperwork," he said, vaguely.

"Okay. Night hon, I love you," Angel said, holding out his arms for one last hug and kiss.

"Love you too," he said, holding him tightly and kissing him one more time.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom and the bedroom, Will closed the door behind him, leaving his lover in the dark, alone, with a worried expression on his face as he exited.

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"Shit," he mumbled as he shuffled through the papers he had laid out on the kitchen table. "How are we going to do this?"

Each and every time he punched the numbers he came up with the same, miniscule number. He had done the math at least twenty times, making sure that the final answer he kept getting was right, and that he wasn't just adding wrong. Running a hand through the blonde-streaked hair, Will closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. He hadn't expected that owning the store would be this stressful. Not knowing what else to do, he picked up the telephone and dialed a long-distance call to Nantucket.

"Bart?" he questioned, as the man on the other end answered after a few rings.

"William? What's up, how's it going?" he asked with a cheerful tone to his voice. Will used to call Bart a lot more before he and Angel gotten together. Now, the two barely spoke. It had to have been at least six months since they had last spoken.

"It's going alright, I mean, everything with Angel is great, but that's not really what I'm calling about," he said, nervously twisting the spiraling cord around his finger.

"Is something wrong?" Bart asked, sensing the tension in his ex- boyfriend's voice.

"Yeah, it's, uh. Oh hell, Bart, it's the store. We're barely making a profit anymore. I mean, Angel works at the club on some nights, and we're just not making enough to support ourselves. Is there anything you can do, I mean, maybe send more clothes or something?"

"Jesus, William, when did this start?"

"I don't know, it's been a steady decline, but it's always been enough for us, you know? And it isn't anymore, I mean, if we don't do something soon, Angel and I won't be able to live together because we won't be able to afford it." Will was on the verge of tears at this point. The thought of him and Angel having to split up was almost unbearable. Ever since the day he'd met Angel, picturing a life without the vivacious drag queen by his side was impossible.

"I don't really know if there's anything I, or you, can do. I mean, if the profit's been decreasing steadily, it's not like a seasonal depression. It's obvious that the clothes aren't selling well in that area, and that's about the end of it. Keep the store open for another month, or so, and if there's still a steady decline in profits, I guess you're gonna have to close down," Bart replied. Will could hear the disappointment in his voice. He knew how much the clothing business mean to Bart, and how much he loved to design clothes.

"I'll definitely keep you posted. I just hope we don't have to close it down, that would be such a shame."

"It would be. But, on the bright side, the store is doing amazing here. I knew moving to Provincetown and opening up a store here was a good idea." At least the clothes were selling somewhere. "So, if you do need to close up shop, you can just send the extra clothes back here, and I'd be able to sell them."

"I really hope it doesn't come to that.," Will trailed off.

"Same here, but you need to think realistically. Unless you start making some serious money, it doesn't make sense to keep it open. It sounds like there's not a whole lot of hope. In the mean time, you and what's-his-name, Angel, is it, should find a new job, so you're prepared if it does have to close."

"Yeah, will do. Thanks, Bart. I can always count on you. Just, do me a favor, though. Don't call here, let me call you. I don't want to tell Angel yet. He'll start to worry, and I don't this to be his problem," Will said, firmly.

"Okay, but call me if you need anything. I know we've had a rocky relationship since we broke up, but I'm always here for you, William, you know that."

"Thanks, buddy. I'll let you know what happens. Bye," he said, hanging up the phone before Bart could respond.

He couldn't tell Angel. Angel didn't deserve this kind of stress.

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See, I told you something important would happen!!! Anyway, review please, and I hope you liked it. There will definitely be more to come.