I know that Carrie wasn't out until….after 1990. So, yeah.
Chapter 5: Out Tonight
"So how was your night with Mimi?" Collins asked as Angel came in the door. She sighed, and dropped her purse on the floor.
"I couldn't concentrate," she admitted, "My thoughts kept reverting back to Manuel."
Collins lowered his magazine. "Yeah?" he asked. Angel waved it off.
"How was your time with Mark?" she asked. He chuckled warmly, and rested his arm over her shoulders.
"Good. He left about a half hour ago. He interviewed me on tape. About the whole MIT thing and stuff," he said, "Then we smoked a little pot. He got totally baked!" Angel giggled as she pulled off her shoes, still listening to the story. "Man, that boy is whack when he's high!"
The two sat closely on the couch for a few minutes, resting form the day's experiences. Collins soon yawned, and looked at his watch.
"One forty-five," he announced, "You wanna go to bed?"
Angel nodded, and they stood. He pulled off his wig, and unclipped his earring while walking towards the bedroom that they shared. He began to undress when Collins walked in with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.
"Where's suh moufwash?" he asked. Angel gave a tired smile, and lead him to the bathroom cabinet.
"Where's it's always bee," he laughed. He pulled out his won toothbrush, and followed his lover's suit. Collins soon finished and retired to the bedroom. When Angel finished and came in, the anarchist was already in his boxers, climbing into bed. The Hispanic continued stripping down, and climbed into his pajama pants. He slid in next to Collins, and laid his head on his lover's chest.
"So," the teacher said after a moment, "who is Manuel?"
Angel sighed. "My brother," he grumbled.
"So he's just a long-lost twin who showed up?"
"Yep," was all Angel answered. They paused, and he groaned, knowing that Collins wouldn't let him off the hook. "Alright," he huffed, sitting up, "I'll tell you everything."
"Good," the anarchist smiled, placing his hands behind his head. Angel took a deep breath.
"When my mama found out that she was pregnant, she found out it was for boy-girl twins. She was…ecstatic, to say the least. She always wanted a baby girl, and so this was her chance. She bought boy and girl clothes, and painted a room half pink, half blue for us to share. Everything that a set of boy-girl twins would need."
"But you can out a boy," Collins stated, as Angel gave his a look.
"I know," he continued, "but Mama didn't care. She dressed me in the girl's clothes until I started school. You know every woman wants a gay son." They laughed, and the small man laid his head back down on his lover's chest, listening to his heartbeat.
"Manuel was very masculine," Angel went on, "and very cruel. He made fun of me constantly, in public or private. As we got older, he got harsher. Mama would get on him, but he wouldn't stop. When we were eighteen, she passed away, and Manuel got even worse. It was so bad, that I left, and I found my way here.
Collins began to stroke Angel's head empathetically. "How bad did it get?" he asked, curious and carefully.
"Boys can be cruel," he sighed, "and Manuel is a boy." He thought for a moment, before going on. "Let's just say that I got a nice taste of the life of Stephen King's Carrie."
"God," the anarchist muttered.
"Yeah," Angel whispered, wiping a painful tear of memory.
"I love you," Collins whispered.
"I know you do," he responded, before drifting off to sleep.