Author's Note: Still don't own them. Still Collins POV.

Mark's Boyfriend

Chapter 2

I kick open the door of the loft with my old black winter boot, since my hands are occupied with a heavy stack of books from the library and a coffee that's lukewarm and sloshing over the brim, spattering the books with brown dots.

"Shit" I mumble, through teeth clenched on my keys.

I spit 'em down on the only table among our sparse furnishing and kick off my boots, skiddin' a bit in my socks as I notice a headline on the open issue of The Voice on the table and scoot over to read it. It's a great article, I get really into it, still clutchin' at my coffee and books, and barely register the front door openin' again.

"Hey, Collins" Mark chirps, uncharacteristically exuberant.

"Hey, man" I acknowledge, not quite done with the bit I'm readin'.

"Collins, I want you to meet someone."

Mark's enthusiasm can only mean he's brought his date home, and curiosity tears me away from the article, glancin' over my shoulder, to see Mark rosy-cheeked and grinnin' as he peels off his scarf and drapes it over the back of a chair. I turn fully 'round, nice to be polite to the latest potential member of the family, and to his left I see the date. A petite Latina with pretty brown eyes, that engulf you the moment you look at them, in enormous platform boots and a daisy-patterned mini dress and psycadelic tights. Not the type I would have expected Mark to be with, tho' I 'spose after Mo' nothin's too crazy. She looks like something from another world, hopping eagerly from foot to foot as she plays with the string of sparkly beads around her neck. Biting her raspberry stained lip, I can't tell if she's nervous or excited or just has a lot of energy. Taking her cue, she bounds forward like a kid and sticks out her hand.

"Hi, I'm Angel." The graceful, feminine voice has a throatiness to it that almost makes me shiver. It doesn't match with the young-vibe she gives off, but at the same time is perfect.

Her nails are electric blue and bitten down to the fingers, and at this distance I slowly realise that she is actually a he. I'm a bit shocked, though not unpleasantly, and I'm further thrown off when I make direct eye contact with those deep, expectant brown eyes that seem to gently penetrate me, so by the time I realise Angel is waitin' to shake my hand, I forget that I'm still holdin' the coffee and the books and fumble stupidly, nearly droppin' them all. I look up to see Angel's serene smile widenin', his eyes twinklin'. Gigglin' deliciously, he reaches out slowly and takes the coffee cup (his hands are soft when our fingers brush) and sets it down on the table. Feelin' awkward, like my body is too big for the space around me and I'm a bit off balance, I chuckle 'n' blush. I've always been shy with strangers, and this particular one makes me feel really unusually uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. I just wish his eyes didn' feel so brazen on me, in front of Mark. It felt like the moment should be private, but that made no sense since I barely knew this guy and he was Mark's boyfriend…girlfriend…something…

"Angel, this is Collins" Mark supplies, and I realise I've forgotten to introduce myself and haven' even shook his hand yet.

Feelin' like I should be reverent, because Angel's eyes are still dancin' with mine, and he...she looks so delicate (her boldness is nothin' like Mo's) and has a regal air about her, I take the small golden hand and give it a light squeeze.

"Pleasure" I mumble, wantin' to appear like a gentleman and unsure what to say. I don' speak a lot, and when I do I tend to mumble and it's usually because I'm not expectin' to be heard over the others, but now I kinda like it 'cuz I think maybe it sounded sexy, 'cuz my voice caught a bit at the back of my throat 'n' it came out pretty low. 'N' then I think, since when have I cared about soundin' sexy or gentlemanly. But Angel's grin is a raspberry lookin' cupid's bow and I can't help grinnin' back and feelin' macho; an' I don' think I've ever felt macho before.

"Oh the pleasure's all mine, honey." Angel practically breathes, and I've been focussed on her for so long I wonder if Mark's still in the room. I feel bad, what if it looks like I'm…flirtin'. Or is it just in my imagination that the room's hotter than it was earlier and there's less air and the distance between me and Mark's date is too small.

"So you're Mark's…"

"Yeah, Mark and I have been official for two weeks now!"

I'm thankful for her interruption, 'cuz I'm not sure what pronoun I was gonna use, or what I was gonna say after that apart from "Oh". I realise I'm smilin' in response to Angel's proud declaration – she seems to have that effect on me, unconscious smilin'. We're both smilin', at each other, an' she's so close and her eyes are like magnets or windows or something more poetic. That I could probably think of if I could just take a decent breath to clear my head. She's…she will be great for Mark. I didn' even know he swung that way. But gender technicalities aside, from spendin' two minutes with her, I can tell she'd be great for anyone. Despite being a bit… unconventional. (Unique, magical). Probably better suited to…
…me.

I frown that thought away as quickly as it enters my brain, ignorin' the strange pang of somethin' sharp and unfamiliar as Mark's hand rests on Angel's hip and guides her away from me (breakin' our closeness too quickly, before I'm ready to let her go) to the bedroom.

"See you later, Collins. Tell Roger to knock if he comes back early" Mark calls over his shoulder (as Angel disappears through the frame of his bedroom door without a backward glance) and Mark's seemingly unaware of the…atmosphere…between Angel and me just now that must've been just in my head.

"Sure thing, man. You kids have fun" I call, feelin' old and unsexy and lonely as the door clicks shut and I hear the mattress springs bounce an' Angel's squeal as she presumably jumps on the bed.

I allow myself to replay the scene twice in my head an' think about Angel for a few seconds only, before I shuffle in my socks back over to the table to finish the article. But I can't help feelin' left out, like there's a rip startin' to peel open inside my chest, as rhythmic muffled voices and Angel's escalating giggles drift through the wall and break my concentration.