A/N: BECAUSE I'M BORED! And I freaking felt like it…don't read it if you don't want but I just felt like doing it…every couple does it. :-P Hey, if enough people like it I might do it again! But I remember people used to love to do it in the Nick/Greg fandom for CSI, so I figured I'd introduce you Cangelites to the wonder that is…oh, let's just say it…ROLEPLAY! There, it's out there…

See, that wasn't so painful. Enjoy…

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT and I'm pretty sure Jonathon Larson would be mildly afraid of what we're taking the liberty of having his characters do. Especially us hormonal teenaged girls. Poor Jonathon…Wouldn't have known what hit him…:)


"You're insane."

"I know."

"You're nuts."

"I know."

"You're fucking crazy."

"I KNOW!" Angel squealed in a delighted fashion, waving the old outfit she'd found in the back of the closet around. She danced over to the mirror and held both articles of clothing in front of her, She giggled and turned back to Mimi. "This is gonna be so much fun."

"Where did you even get the idea for something like that?" Mimi asked, amused and disconcerted all at the same time. This was something she more expected of Maureen; not Angel. Then again, Angel and Maureen had been hanging out a lot lately; basically because one of them was Collins' lover and the other was his best friend. But this was a really Maureen-like thing to do, and no amount of influence, or so Mimi had thought up until about ten minutes ago, would have gotten such a strange idea to pass Angel's mind.

"A book Maureen lent me," Angel said. "Remember last month, around mid-terms at NYU when Collins and I had that huge argument and almost broke up?"

"I wouldn't say 'almost broke up' because I'm pretty sure it never would have happened," Mimi said.

"Yeah, well, whatever you say it was pretty bad," Angel said, "and was mostly caused by me wanting too much attention while he was under stress from work…so I needed a way to apologize." She shrugged. "And I skimmed a few other ideas while I was at it."

"Wow," Mimi sighed. "She's insane, and so are you."

"So I take it you won't go shopping with me to find the rest of what I need?" Angel asked.

"Oh, I'll do it," Mimi assured. "I might not like it, and I might not be able to look you or Collins in the eye for about a month after all of this, but I'll do it."

Angel grinned. "Yay, Chica! I love you!" And she hopped over to hug Mimi.

"Don't touch me!" Mimi groaned, mock-convulsing though hugging back.

It had been a very long day at NYU and Collins just wanted to go home, curl up with Angel, and sleep. It was almost nine o'clock and knowing the randomness of Angel's drumming schedule, she might not even be home yet. Which slightly diminished his happiness at finally just going home, but he tried to keep on the bright side. Angel usually wasn't out that late and she'd gone out at some ungodly hour that morning to start drumming. She was most likely home.

After almost falling asleep on the subway and walking three blocks in the rain, he reached the apartment. He called his lover's name into the apartment and after no one called back, he sighed and rubbed his eyes. Well, if a nice warm Angel was out of the equation he could still get some sleep before she got back home. It wasn't that late yet; she was probably out with Mimi somewhere still.

He walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind himself, taking off his jacket. He was just about to reach to undo his tie when a knock came on the door.

He thought this was strange; after all, if it was Angel, why did she need to knock? And if it was anyone else, they'd already burst into the apartment unannounced, so why knock? But then he figured Angel must have seen his shoes, known he was home, and knocked on the door to see if he was awake. He walked over to the door and drawled, "Yeeees?" simply because he wanted to tease Angel about her knocking. After all, who knocked on the door to their own bedroom?

But when he opened the door he found much more than he expected. Angel stood there, a bunch of ancient-looking textbooks in her arms, glasses on her nose, and her favorite wig done up with scrunchies into pigtails. She wore a grey embroidered sweater from some school with the initials PPHS and a short, red-plaid skirt. The stick of some sort of sucker was hanging out of her mouth.

She smiled and, removing the sucker from her mouth, said, "Professor Collins, do you have a minute to help me with this homework?"

"Angel, what are you doing…?" Collins asked after the initial shock had worn off.

Angel dropped character long enough to give him a short grin and a wink, before dropping back into character and saying, "Oh, I'm sorry Professor – am I not supposed to be here? I could have sworn your office hours went until six. Well, can you just help me for a few minutes? I only need help with a few…problems." She gave a coy little grin and ran her tongue along the sucker, popping it back in her mouth only after she'd spent about twenty seconds swirling her tongue around the red blow-pop.

Getting where this was going and liking it immensely, Collins cleared his throat and sighed, "Well, Miss Schunard, I don't really know if I can stay any longer."

"Oh, please Professor?" Angel begged. "I really need help on this homework and you're the only person I know who can help me!"

"Well…since you asked so nicely," Collins murmured. "Come in, Miss Schunard."

"Oh, thank you so much professor," Angel murmured. Collins' home desk was pushed against the wall at the moment, so she set her books down and pulled it out, tugging the chair from her vanity over to sit in front of the desk. She waited until Collins had sat across from her before she slowly crossed her legs, making sure her legs were open for an extended amount of time. The desired result was received, with Collins's attention being drawn between her legs and getting an eyeful of lacy white boyshorts. All the while she was licking on her sucker.

"What is it you need help with, Miss Schunard?" asked Collins.

"Oh…well, professor," Angel sighed, making it obvious she was working her tongue along the sucker in her mouth. "There are a few problems from last night's homework that I just didn't get…"

"Well, would you like to pull them out and let me help you with them?" Collins asked, attempting to behave as he would if a student actually had come to him for help. But nothing like this had ever happened.

"No," Angel whispered. She then tugged at her collar and sighed, "Professor Collins, it's so hot in your office…can I take off my sweater?"

"I don't see why not," Collins said, gesturing for her to go ahead.

She lifted the sweater over her head and revealed a crisp white dress shirt tied around her waist. The neck was wide, reveling her collarbone, which was one of Collins' top ten favorite things on Angel's body. He adjusted himself and sat back in his chair.

"Oh…Professor Collins," Angel said with a grin. "Do you like what you see?"

"Uhm, well Miss Schunard…," Collins said, clearing his throat. "I, uhm…"

Angel smirked and got up, moving to straddle him. He had no idea where the sucker went but it was suddenly gone as she placed her mouth next to his ear and told him, "Professor Collins…you look hot too. Can I take off your tie for you?"

"I don't know if this is appropriate, Miss Schunard," he said, trying to act flustered though very much wanting her to take that and more off.

"I don't care," Angel whispered. "I've wanted you for a long time. Please don't refuse me, sir."

"…Take it off, Miss Schunard," Collins said, watching as she threaded her delicate hands into the tie and began to undo it. She whispered, "Call me Angel." She pronounced it with much more of an accent than she usually used, and it made Collins shiver.

"Angel," Collins whispered as though trying the name on his tongue. He tried using the accent and it made Angel drop character when she snorted and had to quickly cover her mouth with her hand.

"Close enough…," she said, half-cackling. "Just pronounce it Angel."

Collins chuckled as she finished undoing the tie and pulled it out from under his collar. She used it to pull his head towards hers and murmured, "May I kiss you, Professor Collins?"

"Would you like to?" Collins asked.

"Yes," Angel whispered. "I'd really like to."

Collins leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss, which she smiled into. This might have been a naughty fantasy but that didn't mean their kisses had to reflect that. Angel liked slow and sweet kisses anyway.

"Are you still hot, professor?" Angel asked when they'd pulled away.

"Yes," Collins replied. Angel began unbuttoning his shirt and he placed one hand on her waist, leaning forward to kiss her neck.

"Professor," Angel whispered when she'd removed the shirt and placed it on the desk. "I've wanted you for so long – I can't believe you actually like me back." she blushed at her less than adult wording, but continued, "And I think I may want you to be my first."

"Your first what, Angel?" asked Collins.

"My first lover," whispered Angel. She then took a deep breath, worked up a blush, and murmured, "Do you want to touch me, Professor?" She grabbed his hand and pulled it to place it on her thigh, high up under her skirt. She nibbled on his ear as his large hand traveled to the inside of her thigh and up further. A delicate shiver ran through her.

He rested his hand on the front of her panties and he felt the muscles in her legs contract and tighten themselves around him. She gave a huff and gripped onto him tighter. When his hand started moving for the elastic of the panties, she gasped and laced their fingers together, pulling his hand away, much to his disappointment.

She giggled, "Sorry, professor, it's just that…well, I've never been with anyone before."

"That's okay," Collins said, "We can…go slowly."

Angel smiled and leaned in for a kiss. She pulled back far enough for only her big brown eyes to be seen by Collins and whispered, "Do you want to know a secret, Professor?"

"Sure," Collins replied, his hands now on Angel's bare thighs and rubbing up and down them, slowly and gently but with pressure. Angel loved it when he did this. They even had a bottle of massage oil in the nightstand drawer somewhere. But he didn't feel the need to get it. It would be unnecessary and Angel's legs were very smooth.

"Sometimes," Angel murmured, trailing her hand down to rest on her stomach, her fingers hopping as they shook lightly and her stomach move up and down. "Sometimes, I touch myself thinking of you."

"Is that right?" murmured Collins, kissing her jaw and down her neck. He had no way of knowing if this was at all true or not, as Angel was essentially playing a character. But he imagined it was, and as a result had a vision of Angel, splayed and sweaty on their bed…just the thought was arousing him immensely.

Angel giggled and placed her hand on the front of his jeans. With a coltish little grin she said, "Does that turn you on, Professor?"

"Yes," Collins replied, exhaling slowly to keep himself from giving a rather undignified gasp at the feeling of Angel's hand on his arousal.

Suddenly, Angel giggled and seemed to drop character for a second for she said, "You sound too intense, babe…stop it. Go with it. I'm the cute college girl you've been staring at but didn't want to approach because she's your student. And I recuperate your feels, much to your pleasure. And for future reference I'm not under eighteen so you're not going to be arrested for statutory rape or anything. So chill."

"You did your research," Collins laughed, but couldn't seem to ignore the fact that her hand hadn't bothered to move from his jeans.

"Maureen," was all she said before she nibbled on his neck and began to drop back into character.

"Ms. Schunard," Collins whispered, placing his hand on her bum over the panties. "Are you planning on going somewhere with this train of thought?"

"Maybe," Angel said, pulling back with a bit of a shy grin.

"Do you really do that?" Collins murmured, both playing the character but also asking Angel as the lovers they were. "Touch yourself and think of me?"

Angel looked into his eyes, and as both the character and his lover, Collins was sure, she whispered, "Yes." She then sighed and smiled a bit nervously. "Do you…Do you want to watch me?"

"Do you want me to?" Collins said. Angel wasn't shy but that was a very serious, personal activity. He didn't want her doing it just because some book on role play told her to do that in the instructions.

"I don't mind," Angel replied. "I have nothing to hide from you, after all."

"No you don't," Collins agreed, and reached back to pull the hem of her skirt up over her hips to reveal the underwear. Angel glanced up at him shyly and giggled nervously. Knowing it was a matter of self-confidence for her to get herself started, he whispered against her ear, "You're beautiful and sexy…there's no one I'd rather see do this than you, if you're willing to do this for me."

That seemed to satisfy her for she trailed her hand down to the front of her panties and began to stroke herself. Collins moved his hand to slink into the leghole of her panties to feel her bum. He caressed the smooth skin there and leaned forward to bite her collarbone gently. She lost herself a bit with that movement, for she gasped and actually put her hand inside her panties.

"I want to see you," Collins whispered. "Can I?"

Angel nodded, and Collins began to work her panties down her legs. With a little bit of gymnast-like flexibility from Angel, they cam off without her having to dislodge herself from his lap. She then moved her hand and continued to touch herself delicately.

"I want you to touch yourself like you do when you're alone in your dorm, Miss Schunard," murmured Collins.

Angel chuckled a bit, closed her eyes, craned her head back, and made a low noise which managed to sound just feminine enough for the circumstances, but also sounded very much like a low, obviously male growl. Collins realized it was an unconscious noise Angel had made as a result of dropping all of her unintentional, internal censors at this command. He wished she'd make that sound more often; it was extremely sexy. He loved Angel in all her femininity, but sometimes it was good to be reminded through other means than physicality that he was dating a man.

"Oh…now isn't that a sexy noise," Collins murmured.

Angel stared at him and said, "You think so?" From her tone, she might as well as well have been saying, "You heard that?" or, "I didn't mean to make that noise."

"Yeah," Collins said, his own voice husky. Later he'd tell Angel exactly why he loved that noise so much; the blatant masculinity it displayed, the way it ticked his cock as it vibrated Angel's chest and trailed through his own skin; the raspy, wild, uninhibited sound it had. But right now that's all he could get out.

"Do you want to know another secret, Professor?" Angel asked, cocking her head to the side, looking as innocent as was possible while she was mostly naked from the waist down.

"I'd love to," Collins replied.

"I've also fantasized about you touching me…down there," Angel said, taking his larger hand in hers and moving it in that direction.

Collins smirked. Finally, they were getting to the good part. Not that he didn't like foreplay. But Angel loved a lot more than he did and sometimes he wondered when they would get to the best part.

She brought his hand to her most secret of places and he stroked her gently. They made eye contact for a few minutes before she made a sound in the back of her throat, almost like a whimper, and suddenly took his face in both of her hands and connected their lips. Their tongues swirled together inside their mouths and Collins put his other hand in the small of her back, pressed her against him.

Angel then stood up, and with their lips still attached pulled him to standing as well. She sat on the desk, pulled back and brown eyes met brown as her finger played with the hair on the back of his neck. She took a breath and said in a steady voice, "Make love to me, professor."

Her voice was low and intense. There was the growling quality again. Collins exhaled again and nodded, connecting their lips again. It was so strange that this was some of the most exploratory, revealing, soul-searching sex they'd ever had.

Angel quickly dropped the long-forgotten books on the floor and sat further back on the desk. She stared at Collins and waited for him to remove his pants and underwear before taking his hands and guiding him towards her, between her spread legs. She said, quietly, "In the drawer…lube…"

Collins opened the drawer and was very surprised to find a new bottle of lubricant in the bed of pencils and pens the drawer was usually filled with.

Angel leaned back and spread her legs, lifting up her bum a bit to expose her entrance to Collins' searching fingers. Collins placed one hand under Angel to lift her up and he prepared her, and he felt her thighs clenching.

"It might hurt," Collins said to stay in character, but winking at Angel when she raised an eyebrow. He took her hips in his hands and lifted her them to align with his before he pushed into her gently.

"Professor," uttered Angel through a whimpering sigh. She rested her head back against the desk and tightened her legs in a loop around his waist.

"Make that noise, Ang," he whispered as he sped his pace when she started to get used to him, "You know the one."

Angel blushed and whispered, "I hate that noise." She'd never liked it; ever since she'd become Angel, gorgeous drag queen instead of Angel, poor little Latino who liked boys and started training herself to talk higher, thus making higher noises. It was absoloutly embarrassing that she'd lost herself enough to make it in front of Collins. Usually kept her censors up even when she was with him, just to keep up the façade of who she wanted to be.

"I love that noise," Collins said. "It's sexy. Just let all of your walls drop, Angel. You don't have anything to hide from me. Be you."

Angel sat up a bit, wrapped her arms around Collins' neck, and whispered, "Harder." In that low voice she'd used earlier. It sent shivers down Collins' spine and he quickly followed her commands.

When he did this, a series of noise he'd never heard from Angel spilled from her mouth. They were still Angel's sweet, cute noises, but they seemed to come from deep in her throat instead of high in the back of it, or out her nose. With every thrust, these noises raised in crescendo.

Collins' noises began to gradually mix with hers until Angel's stopped suddenly, she exhaled hard, gasped, and moaned shakily. Her legs tightened around Collins and she turned her head up, groaning. He realized she was climaxing as she began to come between them.

He felt her passage ripple and he himself reached his climax. He rested his hands on the desk on either side of her hips, groaned, and thrust into her one more time from some primal need to bury his seed as far within her as possible.

After a few minutes, her clenching subsided and he pulled out of her. He reached over to the box of tissues he kept on the desk and pulled one out to wipe her down with. As he did this, he kissed her random places and told her, "You…you're just so sexy. That whole thing and…and those noises, Angel…the noises." He looked up and grinned. "I had no idea you could make those."

"I didn't think I could either anymore," Angel chuckled. "I honestly thought I stopped making them when I was seventeen. According to my boyfriend at the time, they were unfeminine and he wanted me to make higher-pitched noises."

"Well…he was an asshole," Collins said. "All the noises you make are sexy. I mean all of them."

"That's another reason I love you," Angel said with a grin. "I've been counting and so far I've got thirty-six. I've only been counting since last week."

"You're kidding," Collins laughed, and lifted her off the desk. She squealed a bit and wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her over to the bed, took the skirt and shirt off as well as her loafers.

"Nope," Angel she said, turning over and watching as Collins laid down next to her.

"Can I ask about the outfit?"

"Well," Angel giggled. "The shirt I found at a bargain store, I already had the boyshorts, and I found the skirt in Mimi's closest yesterday afternoon."

"That's interesting," Collins said, staring at the rather stained skirt. "I sure hope she doesn't want it back."

"She doesn't," Angel replied with a smirk.

"What about the sweater?" Collins asked. "PPHS? What does that stand for?"

"Philip Potter High School," Angel replied with a smile. "It's where I went to high school. That was mine from four years ago."

"Hmm," Collins muttered, wrapped his arms around her. "Hey Ang? I love you baby. But you know I'm not gonna be able to stand a kid calling me professor for, like, ever."

"Sorry," Angel giggled. "I thought it was fun."

"It was," Collins said. He took her wig off her head, set it on the nightstand, and turned off the light. "And now…Now it's time to sleep. Goodnight, babe."

"Night honey," whispered Angel, yawning against him.

It was strange that he'd learned so much about Angel tonight. So much that managed to be hidden for the three months they'd been dating. They'd definitely have to role-play more often if it was going to wreak these kind of benefits.

End Story.

A/N: O_O What just got into me?! Have no idea…but I kinda like it… ;)

Tell me I'm sick all I want. I'm already going to hell in a hand basket. I knew it before you ever came along. For those who liked it: Me hearts you...