warning: there's some gay bashing implied in the end of this chapter, just to warn everyone! disclaimer still applies.
"What are those?"
Astin wrinkled his nose at Maureen as she began emptying her brown grocery bags. She paused and frowned at him, her hands resting on her hips.
"They're t-shirts, dumbass," she growled, sticking her tongue out before tossing a shirt at Joanne.
Joanne giggled as she unfolded the yellow shirt, holding it up in front of her, eyes scanning the top. She bit her lip to keep from laughing . "Um, it's very nice, Maur," she nodded, grinning.
Maureen beamed, proud of her creation as she tugged hers on over her head. "Put it on. Where's Mark?"
"Angel's still working on him," Astin replied, flexing his fingers.
"Well, he better hurry up," Maureen sighed, grabbing a tube of mascara and layering it on her lashes. "I have his t-shirt."
Joanne bit her lip as she tugged on her own t-shirt. "Maur, your shirts are great, but uh, I'm not so sure that they'll match the look Angel's going for."
"What's wrong with them?" she frowned, combing a brush back through her hair.
"It's just, they're um-"
"They're ugly," Astin coughed, clearing his throat. "Mo, they're bright yellow."
"No shit," she sassed, her hand on her hip. "It's so we stick out. Everyone knows who we're rooting for. We have inside connections."
"Oh, everyone will know," Astin rolled his eyes. "Hey, we better get going. Where's your boyfriend?"
"In the bathroom?" she shrugged. "I dunno."
"Jesus, he takes longer to do his make up than you do."
"Well, Angel and Mark aren't ready yet either," she pointed out, throwing her make up into her purse.
Joanne laughed softly as she helped Maureen, cleaning up the cosmetics. "I wonder what's taking Angel so long."
"Angel, are you sure all this is necessary?"
Angel tugged a little harder than necessary on a spike of blond hair. "Yes. That's the tenth time you've asked me Marky, and the answer's been the same every time," he scolded gently. Mark shut up and let Angel finish what he deemed as torture. After a few more moments and tugs on his hair, Angel stepped back, his hands propped on his hips. "Done. Check yourself out, baby," he said, gesturing to the mirror.
Mark stood, took a deep breath and stepped in front of the mirror. His jaw dropped slightly at what he saw. Angel had forced him into jeans that were a bit tighter than he normally wore, but they showed off his skinny legs and (he hated to admit it) ass nicely. The bright blue shirt matched his eyes and was unbuttoned to the second hole, showing off his jutting collarbone. Behind his glasses, his eyes stood out a bit more with the light ring of black eyeliner around them. Angel had spiked his hair, then mussed it, giving him a 'just rolled out of bed' look. "Uh…"
Angel stepped up behind him, putting an arm around his waist. "See? Not so bad. I could've dressed you up like me." He giggled at Mark's expression. The filmmaker's eyes has widened, taking in the young drummer's outfit. He was going in drag, his long legs covered with brightly patterned tights under a denim miniskirt. An artfully ripped t-shirt was draped around his shoulders. Angel had done his own makeup, giving himself dark, smoky eyes and dark red lips, the look completed with a black bobbed wig. Deathly high platform heels were on his feet, making him a few inches taller than Mark. He laughed again, squeezing Mark's hip gently. "Don't worry Mark. You don't have the legs to wear a mini like this." With that, he turned from the mirror, strutting to the door. "Come on, baby, time to make your debut…"
Mark took a deep breath and followed Angel, taking comfort in her encouraging smile. Maybe this would be a new start after all.
"Where the fuck is Angel? We have to go on in five minutes!"
Astin calmly sat on the couch, blowing on his freshly painted nails. "Calm down, Roger. He'll be out when he's good and ready." Laughter colored his voice. Oh yes, no one could force Angel out early when he was either doing a makeover or doing drag. Combine the two, and nothing short of a fire would budge his Angel.
Roger looked about ready to burst when Angel pushed the door open. "Shut up, pretty boy, I'm here. Let's get this show on the road."
"Wait, where's Mark?"
"He's out in the house with Maur and Jo. He's filming, remember?" Angel tugged on his skirt, twirling a drumstick in his fingers. "Come on, boys, let's show them what we're made of." Roger and Astin grinned at him.
"Let's." Roger started his way out to the stage. Astin stood and offered his arm to Angel. With a smile, she took it, and they followed Roger, equal amounts of nervous butterflies in their bellies.
Maureen stood anxiously beside Mark, her hand wrapped tightly around the sleeve of his shirt, shaking him every so often. The last act had just finished and the judges had decided to take a fifteen minute break to decide. A few techies began clearing off the stage so the acts could jam on stage to hear the winner. The wait was driving her nuts and so, she was driving everyone else nuts.
"What the fuck is taking them so long?" she asked for the fourth time in the past three minutes.
"Maureen," Mark fussed as she shook him again. "I'm going to drop my camera."
"Mo, give the kid a break, it's not his fault," Joanne cried, grabbing Maureen's arm and freeing the cameraman from her death grip.
"Thanks," Mark chuckled softly, clutching his camera close to his chest.
"They're so gonna win, right Jo?" Maureen asked, clinging now to Joanne, eyes scanning the room for any sign of the judges.
"Of course they're gonna win," Joanne laughed. "Look at these fantastic shirts. Who has better groupies?"
"Joanne, seriously," she fussed, still scanning the room. "Hey, who's that?"
"Who's who?" Joanne asked, trying to follow her gaze.
"Over there, sitting down, well, now he's standing… hat and glasses…"
"Collins," Joanne murmured. "Isn't it?"
"Huh?" Mark asked, his head whipping up, nearly dropping his camera.
"Tom Collins," Joanne repeated a little louder. "Teacher."
"Where?" Mark asked, stretching to see.
"Over there, getting a drink," she said, pointing over.
"Oh," Mark nodded, his cheeks burning. He was glad the club was poorly lit, making it difficult to see much of anything.
"Wonder what he's doing here," Joanne murmured, turning her attention away.
What is he doing here? Mark wondered. Did he know he was here? Was he hoping to see him? Did he come just to see him?
"Roger mentioned it to him," Maureen said, looking back at the stage. "He let him out of detention early to go practice."
"And by 'practice' you mean fool around," Joanne teased, grinning.
Mark sighed, slightly relieved that he knew why Collins had come. It had nothing to do with him. So why did he feel the sting of disappointment? Before he could dwell on the strange feeling too long, Maureen had grabbed him again and begun shaking him.
"They're going to announce the winners! They're going to announce the winners!" she shouted, causing Mark to wince and rub his ear as the bands began filing back onto the stage.
Mark flipped open his camera and powered up, pointing it back at the stage. Roger and Astin trudged out, sporting the punk rocker look while Angel fluttered out behind, twirling his wig around his finger, grinning from ear to ear. Mark chuckled softly as she winked over at him, his cheeks flushing again.
"Alright, alright, get on with it," Maureen bounced impatiently as the judges began to read off the names of the bands once again. "Let's go!"
"So in third place, the Blackbirds!"
The crowd went crazy, lights flashed and girls screamed.
"Yeah, yeah, clap clap, scream, whoop-de-doo," Maureen said, waving her hand as if to fast forward the speech. Joanne laughed loudly, clapping her hands as Maureen bounced impatiently.
"In second place…"
Roger could feel his insides twisting as the judge hesitated. Third place was already gone. They had to win something. He could hear Angel muttering something in Spanish under his breath, his heels clicking lightly on the ground.
"Proceed With Caution!"
A fake smile flickered across Roger's lips, his stomach tightening. There was only one place left. Maureen bit down hard on her lip, gripping Mark's arm even tighter. Mark didn't even notice the lack of blood flow to his arm as he filmed anxiously. They had to win, they just had to.
"And in first place…"
A soft drum roll played in the background, bright lights burning in Roger's eyes, sweat beads building under his nose and on the back of his neck. Even Joanne was nervous, biting her thumb nail as the judge drew it out.
"First place goes to… The Well Hungarians!"
Maureen let out a loud scream Roger could hear over all of the other fans as Angel jumped up and down beside him, holding onto both of the boys' arms. Mark grinned from ear to ear, ignoring the dull ache in his ear from Maureen's constant screaming and the grand finale screech.
"Five hundred dollars and an hour of recording time at Ricky's Records will be awarded to the band. Congratulations!"
Slowly the other bands began to filter off the stage as Maureen plowed her way through the crowd towards her boyfriend, whom she'd seen many other girls ogle that night. She climbed up on stage and pummeled Roger, kissing him deeply while the other two embraced and received the prize.
Angel laughed when he saw Maureen jumping on Roger. Knowing he would be occupied for a few moments, he tugged Astin over to the announcer to collect their envelopes. Angel let out another triumphant cry as Astin grabbed him around the waist and swung him around. The smaller boy stumbled against his chest, leaning up to capture his lips in a kiss. Astin kissed him back deeply, holding him close. There were quite a few catcalls from the crowd, most of them being groans from girls who were crushing on Astin. The blond pulled away from his boyfriend and waved to the crowd, laughing. Moments later, they were offstage with Maureen and Roger, heading towards the back of the club to meet up with Mark and Joanne.
People patted them on the back, shouting congratulations as they wove through the crowd. Angel was beaming, unused to this kind of acceptance from a crowd. There were even a few comments from girls they passed about his killer outfit. Astin smiled happily. He loved to see his Angel this happy. He knew that Angel was usually uncomfortable in crowds, but this… he was thriving on this. Looping an arm around his boyfriend, Astin pulled him close and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Love you, mon amour," he whispered into his ear, bringing a sweet smile to his lips. He didn't know how anything could ruin this perfect night.
Collins had shouted triumphantly when Roger's band was announced as the winner. Good for him, he thought. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, the hot club making him sweat and therefore, making his glasses slip down. Why the fuck had he worn them in the first place? This was a club for all ages. Just because it was an event that catered more to his students than to people his age didn't mean he had no right to be there. With a shake of his head, he slipped the sunglasses off, stuffing them in his pocket along with the dark purple knit cap he had thrown on over his short hair.
Against his better judgment, Collins decided to step out onto the dance floor. He wouldn't dance with anyone he recognized, in case they were his students. He was pretty sure that none of the kids would report him if they saw him here. Everyone seemed to love him for being the cool, young teacher who let them get away with a lot of stuff that the older teachers wouldn't. Collins did try to keep a level of friendship with his kids, but he also made sure that respect was there too. Kids wouldn't cross him, for fear that they would be reported for making out in the halls or lingering in the stairs on their way to class.
Thinking of that, he found a corner of the floor, starting to move to the beat. He scanned the crowd, looking around for someone who looked older and caught his eye. There. A head of blond hair stood out from everyone else. Collins made his way over to the young man, judging him to be about 19 or 20, certainly not one of his students. The way his shirt clung to his thin chest and his pants to his well-shaped bottom, he had to be out of high school. That decided, he came up behind the shorter man, resting his hands on his hips lightly. The younger man looked over his shoulder a little, a pretty red flush on his cheeks. Collins kept a bit of distance between their bodies, leaving him room to get away. His decision to do so was null a moment later, as the man backed up against him, pressing his back against Collins's chest.
Collins felt heat rise in him and pulled the man closer. His head bent down a bit, smelling the fruity scent of whatever gel he had used to spike his hair. Oh but this felt amazing. Collins couldn't remember the last time he had danced like this with someone in a club and enjoyed it this much. He ran his hands up his ribs, feeling the bones through the smooth silk. Pale hands reached back, resting on the back of his head.
Unable to resist any longer, Collins turned the boy around in his arms, one hand dropping down to his ass. He froze mid-movement. His eyes widened almost comically as the boy in front of him looked up with equally wide eyes behind black frames. "Mark?!"
"Wasn't that fantastic?" Maureen exclaimed as they filtered out onto the dance floor. "It was so great! Amazing! Baby, you're so good!"
Roger grinned, his arm tight around her waist. "Thanks, Maur," he murmured into her ear, kissing her jaw line. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and neck, tipping her head back slightly, her hips swaying to the music.
"Come on, baby, let's dance," she grinned, peeling off her bright yellow t-shirt and tucking it into her back pocket, leaving her black tank top on.
Roger nodded quickly, holding on tightly to her hips as she backed up onto the dance floor, finger wiggling at him, beckoning him forward. Joanne laughed at the couple as she followed, staying close by and moving to the music as well. A pretty red head moved towards the brainiac, tight green dress sticking to her as she moved, wiggling her way towards Joanne. Her cheeks flushed slightly as the red head's arms slipped around her waist from behind, tugging her close and grinding against her.
Angel grabbed onto Astin as soon as he'd tucked the prize away in his pocket and kissed him deeply. Astin groaned softly against his lips, his arms wrapping tightly around his waist, holding him close.
"Let's go dance," Angel whispered into his ear, nipping at it playfully, provoking a groan from his boyfriend.
"I want to, baby, I do. I gotta get a smoke real quick and then I'm all yours, alright?"
"Sure," Angel shrugged, smiling. "Let me grab my jacket and I'll meet you outside, okay?"
"Yes, ma'am," Astin grinned, kissing his lips once more before heading outside.
He inhaled deeply, sighing into the chilly night air. The bass from the music inside was pumping up through the sidewalk and up into Astin's sneakers as he fished around in his pocket for a lighter. Rounding the building, Astin leaned up against the wall, pulling out two cigarettes from his packet. He slipped one in between his lips, the other sliding behind his ear as he flicked his lighter and cupped the smoke, setting it ablaze. Astin pushed off from the wall, pacing slowly, recounting the night's events in his head, smiling. He couldn't have asked for a better evening. They played a damn good show, they'd won five hundred dollars and recording time, and he had Angel.
The soft thump of shoes on pavement clicked lightly behind him. He grinned, back to the sidewalk, waiting for Angel to pounce on him from behind. He'd let Angel surprise him tonight.
"Maur, I'm going outside for a minute, okay? Astin is gonna have a smoke," Angel shouted to the brunette. "Separate from Roger for a second and tell me you heard me."
"Alright baby," Maureen shouted, tipping her head back to look at Angel while Roger gently attacked her neck. "Come back soon."
"Yeah, okay," she grinned. "You won't notice I'm gone."
"Sure I will," she shouted as Angel weaved through the crowd towards the door.
Maureen took a moment to catch her breath and survey the crowd. Joanne and the red head were grooving nearby, the red head whispering into Joanne's ear causing Joanne to giggle, her hands roaming lower. Angel and Astin had just slipped outside and Mark… was nowhere to be seen.
"Rog, where's Mark?" she asked, pulling his head up to meet hers.
"I honestly have no idea," he murmured, panting slightly. "Why?"
"I see Joanne. Astin and Ang went for a smoke. I can't find Mark."
"We'll find him before we leave," Roger shrugged. "I'm sure he's fine."
"Roger, he's the new kid. What if some girl… or guy is molesting him? And he can't find us? Come on…"
Roger held his breath, eyes looking up into hers, pleading to let him stay on the dance floor with her in his arms. "Alright," he exhaled. "We'll go find Mark."
"Thanks," she grinned, grabbing onto his hand and dragging him off the floor.
The couple wandered for a bit, Maureen's eyes peeled for Mark. She paused a bit, examining a few of the other outfits on the floor, always asking Roger if hers was better, before getting back on track.
"Hey, look, I think that's him!" she exclaimed, pointing to a scrawny blond kid.
"No way," Roger shook his head. "He's dancing with some guy. An older guy. Not him."
"Yes, yes it is," she insisted, moving closer. "Angel did his hair like Astin's. Mark! Mark!" She gasped softly. "Mark!" she whispered, clamping her hand over her mouth. "Roger! Look!"
"What? Oh… oh… isn't that?"
"Collins!"
Angel stepped out into the back alley, heels clicking on the pavement. He shoved his hands in his pockets, humming one of their songs softly. He couldn't imagine how he could be any happier in this moment. Looking down the alley, he scanned the walls for the slim shape of his boyfriend, probably with a cloud of silver smoke blurring his blond hair. Angel frowned when he didn't see anyone. "Astin?" he called softly, walking a few more steps. "Compi? Donde estas, chico?"
He continued walking down, a bit more nervous now. Where the hell had he gotten to? "Astin?" he called again, a bit of a shrill creeping into his voice.
In the next moment, his entire body went cold. "Shit! Astin!" Angel's heels thumped on the pavement as he ran towards the crumpled form of his boyfriend. His stomach rolled when the combined scent of alley filth and blood hit his nostrils. Liquid warmth seeped into his tights when he dropped to his knees. Angel couldn't think about what he was kneeling in without his stomach threatening to expel its contents. He picked up his boyfriend's head and cradled it in his lap, calling his name softly, urgently.
"Astin, baby, please, open your eyes, please…" He keened, stroking the stained blond locks out of his eyes. To his slight relief, Astin's eyes fluttered open… or they would have, had one of them not been swollen shut. "Astin, compi, what happened?"
"Ang… I don't…" His eye fell shut, blood now trickling over it from a cut on his forehead. Angel cried out again, rubbing Astin's cheeks gently.
"No, baby, please wake up…" Angel's eyes overflowed, warm tears falling down his face. He shifted, keeping Astin's head in his lap as he fished his cell out of his pocket. Quickly, he managed to send a short text to Roger, his hands shaking the entire time. Once the message had sent, he dropped the phone on the concrete and continued to beg Astin to open his eyes, not caring about the blood rapidly staining his skirt.