speed_rent Challenge 100
Title: Your Number One With A Bullet
Author: Donner
Feedback: I really wanna see it for this one...
Pairing: Implied Roger/Mimi, Angel/Collins, but is a light Roger/Angel
Word Count: 1106
Rating: PG-13 for the real... uhm... odd pairing thing?
Genre: Fluff
Summary: Roger teaches Angel how to play guitar and they share a little moment Roger can't decide if he enjoys or not.
Notes: I know that this is a different pairing, but I love it. *ashamed* I hope you can give it a chance.
The challenges included in this is Challenge 74, which called for using one of the list of rather alternative pairings (I chose Roger/Angel), Challenge 54, which was writing for the prompt Unexpected, and Challenge 96, which was use/write a fic from the lyrics "There's a pill on my tongue, a shot from a gun, the bottles bottom, I'm a lonely star".
This is also one of my very rare Roger POV fics. Whoo.
Special Thanks: Congrats to the most rockin’ contest around and probably one of the most hardest working people I’ve ever seen, Greens!
Spoilers: Nope.
Warnings: Nope
Disclaimer: I don't own RENT :o
Your Number One With a Bullet
By Donna
I sat on the windowsill, tuning my guitar. I was fully aware that I needed to put this poor thing out of its misery. It screamed in pain anytime I tried to tune it and the neck was much too dried out to be functional anymore. But like a cockroach, it still lived. I could dream of having money and buying a new one, but me getting a job was highly unlikely. I didn’t even have my GED and I was probably going to keel over and die sometime soon, anyway...
I looked up as the door swung open. A rather tall figure entered the loft and I shook my head. “Hello, Angel.”
Angel slowly walked into the room, with a smile on her face. “Hi, Roger! Uhm...” She looked around as if someone was filming us, no pun intended. “...You... you know... I was kinda... wondering...”
“Are you locked out of the apartment again?” I asked, cutting her off.
Angel nodded nervously. “Yep! Uhm... key... no pockets... yeah.”
I shook my head. “You’re impossible. I’m just playing guitar. Mark’s not going to be back for a long time.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s out filming and he said he’s going to attempt buying some sort of food stuffs.”
She walked closer to me, nervous. “C... can I sit next to you?”
“Sure, I don’t see why not.”
She sat down, smoothing out her skirt. “Well... uhm... heh...” She was extremely nervous, which was very uncharacteristic of her.
“What’s up with you?” I asked, and then I realized. It was just her and me. We’d only spent alone time once, prior, and that was only because Mark had to take a shit.
She leaned back, the sunset hitting her face. I watched for a moment, the reds and oranges matching her skin tone. But upon further examination, I saw the dark patches under her eyes and the random red mark on her collarbone. I leaned over, putting my guitar down. “Ang, what’s that?”
Angel fell back, mumbling, “No, please...”
Then I realized it. It was a lesion. She pulled her shirt over it, trying to ignore it. I didn’t know what to do. I only knew her for a few months and I already got tangled in quite a bit with her. When I first met her, I thought she was just some very loud, obnoxious, get-off-your-ass-or-else drag queen, but after talking to her she was much more than that. She was the voice of reason, she was the mom you could only dream of, and, upon further examination, very insecure at times. Especially without Collins. My theory was that she needed to have a very masculine man to make up for herself... but I couldn’t tell her that. It’d be rude.
Angel looked at me. “Can you please keep playing? Don’t mind me.”
I sighed. “Fine. If you say so.” I took the guitar and put it on my lap. She watched, her eyes staring longingly at the strings.
Then I got a brilliant idea.
“Ang, you wanna learn how to play?”
Her eyes lit up. “S-sure! Uhm... how?”
“Sit in my lap and I’ll show you.”
I wasn’t afraid of her. I couldn’t be. She was very loyal to Collins and I was very straight. So we knew better than to even pull anything on each other. She sat in my lap, being much more lighter than I thought. She tried not to lean on me, but I pulled her against my chest. I couldn’t see over her anyway.
“Okay,” I said, “I’ll teach you some basic chords... got it?”
Angel nodded. I took her hands and showed her the basic parts. “Okay... this hand...” I grabbed her polished hand, “This is going on the neck of the guitar, got it? You’re going to do most of the work with this one.” I moved it up and down the neck. “You’re going to go to all the frets and shit. It makes the different sounds. The other hand’s gonna pluck the strings right down here.” I moved it to place. “Okay. I’m going to lead you. Don’t mind me.” I grabbed her hands and laced my fingers with hers. I made them move against the strings and a soft brrr-ing welcomed our ears.
Angel smiled widely, looking at me. It reminded me about when I was little and learning. I did the same face when I did my first chord, too.
As I helped her around I said, “So... Ang... uhm... can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“Why’d you take up the drums?”
“Because my dad said the flute was too girly.”
I tried to stifle a laugh.
“You can laugh. It’s alright.”
I snickered and said, “Oh. Because you’d be good at guitar.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh... awesome!” She did this really girly laugh that reminded me of Mimi. She was pretty similar to Mimi. They were both Hispanic, both wore animal print an awful lot...
“Can you play me something?” she asked.
I sighed. “Ang... I don’t know...”
“It doesn’t have to be your own. It can be something else. I don’t mind.” She slipped off my lap and onto the floor.
“If you say so.” I began to play and try to resist the words coming out of my mouth, but they slipped, “There’s a pill on my tongue, a shot from a gun, the bottle’s bottom, I’m a lonely star.”
She looked at me, saddened. “That’s depressing.”
Well, I fucked up. “I’m sorry, it’s just the first thing that came into my head...”
“Yeah... we’re all hurting I guess,” Angel said. She got up and leaned into me. I panicked, jumping back. “What are you...”
Before I could finish, her lips were against mine. I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t bad, per se, but still... it wasn’t supposed to happen. She broke the kiss quickly and smiled. “Feel better?”
No. I just kissed my best friend’s drag queen girlfriend and I have my own girlfriend who is, wait for it, her best friend. “Uhm... a little.”
She giggled. “I’m sorry, you looked so sad singing them. Uhm...” She blushed. “I’m going to go home now...”
“No, no, no,” I said, pulling her close. “Stay. I like you here. Now... uhm... I’ll sing another song. I know ‘Ziggy Stardust.’”
She sat down on the floor, looking up at me. “Go for it, Roggy Stardust. I’m sure you’ll do great.”
END
Author: Donner
Feedback: I really wanna see it for this one...
Pairing: Implied Roger/Mimi, Angel/Collins, but is a light Roger/Angel
Word Count: 1106
Rating: PG-13 for the real... uhm... odd pairing thing?
Genre: Fluff
Summary: Roger teaches Angel how to play guitar and they share a little moment Roger can't decide if he enjoys or not.
Notes: I know that this is a different pairing, but I love it. *ashamed* I hope you can give it a chance.
The challenges included in this is Challenge 74, which called for using one of the list of rather alternative pairings (I chose Roger/Angel), Challenge 54, which was writing for the prompt Unexpected, and Challenge 96, which was use/write a fic from the lyrics "There's a pill on my tongue, a shot from a gun, the bottles bottom, I'm a lonely star".
This is also one of my very rare Roger POV fics. Whoo.
Special Thanks: Congrats to the most rockin’ contest around and probably one of the most hardest working people I’ve ever seen, Greens!
Spoilers: Nope.
Warnings: Nope
Disclaimer: I don't own RENT :o
Your Number One With a Bullet
By Donna
I sat on the windowsill, tuning my guitar. I was fully aware that I needed to put this poor thing out of its misery. It screamed in pain anytime I tried to tune it and the neck was much too dried out to be functional anymore. But like a cockroach, it still lived. I could dream of having money and buying a new one, but me getting a job was highly unlikely. I didn’t even have my GED and I was probably going to keel over and die sometime soon, anyway...
I looked up as the door swung open. A rather tall figure entered the loft and I shook my head. “Hello, Angel.”
Angel slowly walked into the room, with a smile on her face. “Hi, Roger! Uhm...” She looked around as if someone was filming us, no pun intended. “...You... you know... I was kinda... wondering...”
“Are you locked out of the apartment again?” I asked, cutting her off.
Angel nodded nervously. “Yep! Uhm... key... no pockets... yeah.”
I shook my head. “You’re impossible. I’m just playing guitar. Mark’s not going to be back for a long time.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s out filming and he said he’s going to attempt buying some sort of food stuffs.”
She walked closer to me, nervous. “C... can I sit next to you?”
“Sure, I don’t see why not.”
She sat down, smoothing out her skirt. “Well... uhm... heh...” She was extremely nervous, which was very uncharacteristic of her.
“What’s up with you?” I asked, and then I realized. It was just her and me. We’d only spent alone time once, prior, and that was only because Mark had to take a shit.
She leaned back, the sunset hitting her face. I watched for a moment, the reds and oranges matching her skin tone. But upon further examination, I saw the dark patches under her eyes and the random red mark on her collarbone. I leaned over, putting my guitar down. “Ang, what’s that?”
Angel fell back, mumbling, “No, please...”
Then I realized it. It was a lesion. She pulled her shirt over it, trying to ignore it. I didn’t know what to do. I only knew her for a few months and I already got tangled in quite a bit with her. When I first met her, I thought she was just some very loud, obnoxious, get-off-your-ass-or-else drag queen, but after talking to her she was much more than that. She was the voice of reason, she was the mom you could only dream of, and, upon further examination, very insecure at times. Especially without Collins. My theory was that she needed to have a very masculine man to make up for herself... but I couldn’t tell her that. It’d be rude.
Angel looked at me. “Can you please keep playing? Don’t mind me.”
I sighed. “Fine. If you say so.” I took the guitar and put it on my lap. She watched, her eyes staring longingly at the strings.
Then I got a brilliant idea.
“Ang, you wanna learn how to play?”
Her eyes lit up. “S-sure! Uhm... how?”
“Sit in my lap and I’ll show you.”
I wasn’t afraid of her. I couldn’t be. She was very loyal to Collins and I was very straight. So we knew better than to even pull anything on each other. She sat in my lap, being much more lighter than I thought. She tried not to lean on me, but I pulled her against my chest. I couldn’t see over her anyway.
“Okay,” I said, “I’ll teach you some basic chords... got it?”
Angel nodded. I took her hands and showed her the basic parts. “Okay... this hand...” I grabbed her polished hand, “This is going on the neck of the guitar, got it? You’re going to do most of the work with this one.” I moved it up and down the neck. “You’re going to go to all the frets and shit. It makes the different sounds. The other hand’s gonna pluck the strings right down here.” I moved it to place. “Okay. I’m going to lead you. Don’t mind me.” I grabbed her hands and laced my fingers with hers. I made them move against the strings and a soft brrr-ing welcomed our ears.
Angel smiled widely, looking at me. It reminded me about when I was little and learning. I did the same face when I did my first chord, too.
As I helped her around I said, “So... Ang... uhm... can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“Why’d you take up the drums?”
“Because my dad said the flute was too girly.”
I tried to stifle a laugh.
“You can laugh. It’s alright.”
I snickered and said, “Oh. Because you’d be good at guitar.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh... awesome!” She did this really girly laugh that reminded me of Mimi. She was pretty similar to Mimi. They were both Hispanic, both wore animal print an awful lot...
“Can you play me something?” she asked.
I sighed. “Ang... I don’t know...”
“It doesn’t have to be your own. It can be something else. I don’t mind.” She slipped off my lap and onto the floor.
“If you say so.” I began to play and try to resist the words coming out of my mouth, but they slipped, “There’s a pill on my tongue, a shot from a gun, the bottle’s bottom, I’m a lonely star.”
She looked at me, saddened. “That’s depressing.”
Well, I fucked up. “I’m sorry, it’s just the first thing that came into my head...”
“Yeah... we’re all hurting I guess,” Angel said. She got up and leaned into me. I panicked, jumping back. “What are you...”
Before I could finish, her lips were against mine. I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t bad, per se, but still... it wasn’t supposed to happen. She broke the kiss quickly and smiled. “Feel better?”
No. I just kissed my best friend’s drag queen girlfriend and I have my own girlfriend who is, wait for it, her best friend. “Uhm... a little.”
She giggled. “I’m sorry, you looked so sad singing them. Uhm...” She blushed. “I’m going to go home now...”
“No, no, no,” I said, pulling her close. “Stay. I like you here. Now... uhm... I’ll sing another song. I know ‘Ziggy Stardust.’”
She sat down on the floor, looking up at me. “Go for it, Roggy Stardust. I’m sure you’ll do great.”
END