Rating: NC-17 for Darco slash
Summary: The relationship of Marco and Dylan as seen through Dylan's eyes.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I wish I did. They're yummy.
A/N: These two have inspired the slash monkies of olden times- of Buffy times. Let me know if you like it.

Dedication: Thank you SO much to luvluv for all your help with sparking my muses and your awesome feedback!!!

THANKS TO: BROOKE for the feedback!!!!

ALSO TO: Diamond, luvluv, Amy, Venus, annakas, & Psumathgirl, ashley!!

21

The first half of that summer was amazing. The days were spent at hockey practice for me and at the printing shop and clinic for Marco. But the nights? They were all for us.

We went to movies or had movie fiestas with his friends or alone. We laid in the hammock all weekend or went to the beach. We went to clubs and danced as well. He cooked for my parents a few times and his mother had me over a few nights while his dad was working late.

The first half of that summer was all about reconnecting and getting to know each other more. And after the family obligations and friend gatherings- the nights were *incredible*. Our nights- nights we'd spend in my room, under my covers- sweating profusely as we experimented together with how slow or fast we could have sex or how much we could make each other come. We played with positions and different lubricants as well. We did all sorts of things to each other that we would have *never* done a year before.

We had both grown-up. We had both learned things that we needed to learn. We had both needed the time and space to become who we were so we could love each other as adults and not children.

We needed that time to realize that a real relationship takes a lot of work and dedication but that it's worth it if you truly love that person.

And the first real test of that came when a few dorm mates from college called one weekend in July, wanting me to go on a trip with them.

"What?" he asked. "You're going where?"

"White water rafting," I responded. "With some college friends."

"Who?" he asked. "And why? Isn't that dangerous?"

"We're going with a guide- two guides who run groups of 5 or 6 down the river together. It's a weekend trip- next weekend. It's something I've always wanted to try and Mom said she'd give me the money. We do half the trip one day and camp for the night and then do the second half the next day."

"With who?" he repeated.

"Friends… Dave and Kevin and Antwon and Nick and Eric- just a few friends," I said quickly.

"*Eric*? Kissing you on your bed, goodbye to Marco, 'interesting people' Eric?"

"Marco, it isn't like that, okay? I told you it was over before it even started with him. It's just… he's still my friend. I even think he's seeing someone."

"YOU were seeing someone, Dylan!" he yelled. "But it didn't stop you then, did it? And what about these other guys? Are they gay too?"

"Yes- they're friends from school- from the dorm- we all bonded because of it, yes. But I didn't date any of them."

"No- but how many of them have you made out with?"

"Marco, Baby, that's not really relevant at all to-"

"How *many*?" he asked.

"Three. Eric, Kevin and Nick."

He was mad- I knew that. I just… I knew he'd be worried but I didn't think it was such a big deal since they were my friends. Just friends. I wasn't jealous that he had made out with Ellie and was close friends with her.

"I can't freakin' believe this," he said and stood up from the bench he was sitting on in the park, where we met for lunch every day. "I can't… I *knew* it! I KNEW it! But noo… I thought it'd be fine but here I am again-"

I stood up and grabbed his arm. "Marco, it's *not* the same thing. Okay? It's not. I am committed to you. I told you this. None of them can even hold a candle to what we have- to what we are to each other. It's just a white water rafting trip, that's all. They're my friends."

"So go on your stupid trip, Dylan," he said, jerking his hand away. "Go. Do whatever you want. Don't worry about me anymore." And then he started running and I ran after him.

"Marco! Stop!" I said- called. "Baby- stop!"

"Don't follow me, Dylan!" he snapped when I sort of caught up with him and he turned quickly. "Don't follow me. Don't call me. Just… *don't*. I can't be here right now." And he turned and I… felt that I shouldn't push- that I should respect his wishes. He didn't say it was over, did he? He just said he needed time.

So I gave him time.

But I said yes to the guys about the trip, even if I still wasn't sure I'd go. If it came down to being with Marco or going on the trip, then I'd choose Marco and I wanted to tell him that. Tell him that if he said no, that it'd be the end of it. I wouldn't go. I'd… give up my friends for him if it meant keeping him in my life.

And when he didn't call that night? I decided to go to his house in the morning- once his dad had already left for work.

I got there and rang the bell and his mother answered. "Oh, good morning, Dylan," she smiled. "Marco's not out yet, I don't think. But you come in for coffee, okay? I make you some toast."

"Okay, Mrs. Del Rossi," I smiled politely and nearly chocked when I got in the kitchen and saw his dad sitting at the table.

"Dylan, you're coming to see Marco? For what? So early on a Saturday morning?"

Um- SHIT. I had to think up something quick. "Paige!" I said. "For Paige. I… am starting to plan a going to college party for her, since she's leaving town. Marco- he's helping me. We obviously can't meet at my house because she's very nosy, so… I thought we'd plan it here. If that's okay."

"Sure, sure," he nodded happily. "I can make some posters for you! At the shop. Some bon voyage posters."

"That'd be great, Mr. Del Rossi. Once we have the details- colors chosen, we'll let you know."

"Okay, okay," he agreed. "Marco!" he yelled out. "Paige's brother is here for you, Son. Wake up!"

Oh god. I hope he didn't blow the cover for us. "Maybe I'll go see if he's awake," his mom smiled and went to get him. He should have been awake by then, but he wasn't and it was *not* good. I knew I shouldn't have gone over, but I needed to talk to him badly.

"So Paige is going to where?"

"Oh- Banting. She's so excited and deserves a proper party. With all her friends- it'll be nice. She gave *me* an off to college party" lie "so I want to return the favor," I smile softly.

"Dylan!" Marco said as he came rushing out. "What are you *do*ing here?"

"I-" Shit. His dad- right. "Paige is home today so we can't plan her party there. I thought I'd come here- maybe we should go out- to a party supply store- get some ideas for a theme."

"And to pick colors for the posters!" his dad smiles.

"Paige's-" Then I saw he realized I'd lied. "Yeah… we'll need to pick colors and a theme but… I promised my pop I'd help him with a job at the shop."

"It can wait, Marco- a couple hours for you to shop," the Italian grinned. "Parties are important part of going to college. You should go- help Dylan."

"Thanks, Mr. Del Rossi," I smiled politely. I really hoped that one day he'd accept me but today wasn't the day. Today I had to get Marco to forgive me and to get him to do that, I needed him to talk to me- in private and alone.

"Marco, I'll see you at the shop," his dad said and kissed his wife and headed out.

"Can I get you more coffee, Dylan?" his mom asked.

"No, Mom. He was just *leaving*."

"I just got here, Marco. I needed to talk with you."

"Well I told you-" he said and looked over at his mom. Then he grabbed my arm and dragged me out into the hallway. "I *told* you I needed space, Dylan. I need… to not be near *you*, okay?"

"And I wanted- *needed* to tell you I won't go then. I won't. If you don't want me to. I won't even *talk* to them if it'll cost me you, Marco."

"It doesn't matter, Dylan. You couldn't have thought this would be okay with me. I mean… if I came to you and said- yeah- Tim and a few of our friends want me to go away for the weekend- what would you say? You… why do you show that much disregard for my feelings?"

"Marco, *no*. I told you I'm reckless and do stuff without thinking."

"Well when are you gonna grown UP, Dylan?!" he yelled and shoved me. "I told you I don't wanna see you and I don't. Leave me alone."

"Marco, I don't wanna break up over this. I- I just got you back."

"Then respect my feelings and stay away. When I want to, I'll call."

"Marco…" I whispered softly. "I love you. I don't wanna lose you over this- over my stupidity. I can't leave thinking that, please…"

"Just go," he said and walked into his place, closing the door behind him.

Why did I keep screwing things up with him?

I'd never been as stupid as I was when I was with Marco Del Rossi.

22

Well that afternoon went by with no call from Marco.

And that night did as well.

By the next morning, I was really sweating bullets and decided to try again. It was Sunday and I knew that after church, he was probably headed to the Dot for his usually Sunday lunch date with Ellie.

So that's where I headed.

I donned my most sorry looking shirt- the saddest looking one I could find. And then I bought a dozen pink roses because that's his favorite color rose. Then I bought a box of the peanut butter candies he likes and headed over to the Dot. I peaked inside and saw him sitting, talking with Ellie.

I took a big breath and went inside. "Marco," I said, approaching the table slowly. "I needed…" I showed him the flowers and candy- placed them on the table.

"Dylan, why can't you *respect* me?" he asked, standing up and looking at me like it was so offensive to bring him candy and flowers. "You can't buy your way out of this, Dylan. You just… UGH! I'm so mad at you, I can't even *think*!" he said angrily and pushed his chair back under the table. "C'mon, Ellie, we're *leaving*."

And he stormed by me with her, clearly angry. I turned back to the table and grinned. The flowers were still there but he took the candy.

I think I knew in that moment we'd eventually be okay because he'd taken the candy.

When I later explained this to Spinner of all people, he said candy was a crazy reason to think we'd be okay. But he didn't know what it was really like to date a hungry Italian man. The way to Marco's heart was through his stomach on this one.

So I waited. I waited all afternoon for a call and half of Monday. Then around one in the afternoon- after practice was getting out- I got a text: lunch. usual. 2. –SM

SM: Sweet Marco.

We'd work it out. He'd been mad and gotten his point across- that I'd been stupid and dumb and I'd really try to curtail my stupidity in the future.

So I took the sandwiches like usual because he would bring beverage and chips and fruit. Then I grabbed the blanket from my trunk and spread it out under our favorite tree in the park- like usual.

And then I waited more. As I often do for Marco. It seems my whole life is waiting. Waiting for him to be ready to leave. Waiting for him to finish his hair so I can use the bathroom. Waiting for him to finish shopping so we can go to dinner. I wait for him an awful lot but that would be the too "girly" part that I was warned of.

It was a little after two when I saw him walking toward me with a bag- his part of the lunch.

He sat down and handed me my drink and I handed him his sandwich.

"How was practice?" he asked.

"Good. We've got our first game on Thursday- then it's a game every three days for the summer. A couple weekends away- in Montreal for championship at the end of the summer hopefully. Might be some scouts there- to start looking at junior and senior picks."

"That's great. I'm sure you'll make it. You said you've got a great set of guys for the team this summer."

"We do- very much," I nodded as I sipped my chocolate milk. "Look… I was wrong to ambush you like that at your house or at the Dot."

"No… I know why you did. You… I was being kind of a brat," he shrugged and picked at his sandwich. "I just… can you see why it would upset me? Make me jealous? I mean… if he was worth breaking us up in the first place, what's to stop that from happening again?"

"*Me*," I answered honestly. "Okay? Me and my undying and deep love for you, Marco. I told you you're the only one that's not not-Marco enough for me, ya know? The only not not-Marco is Marco and that's the only guy for me. I know it; in my gut I know it. In every time we touch- when we're together… it's… that's what will stop anything else from happening. That and *this*," I said and produced a small box.

"What's this?" he asked and took it. He opened it slowly. It was a gold chain- a really nice one- sort of like the one he wore with his cross. "What's this for?"

"It's for this," I said and produced a ring- a really pretty band- gold with a little design carved around it.

"Dylan," he gasped. "What… this is… I… are we- is it…"

"It *will* be your engagement band, yes," I told him. "I'll have it engraved then. But for now, I thought you might wanna wear it around your neck- as a promise. My promise to you, Marco Del Rossi. There's no one else for me. No one but you."

"Dylan," he whispered softly as he took my hands with his. "It's beautiful."

"I uh… bought it with all my money I saved this semester. With the money I'd have spent on the trip." I had called Eric that morning and canceled.

"I… then I think you should take it back. Go on the trip. You clearly want to and… I just-"

"No. I don't wanna be with them more than I want you. I just… have always wanted to go white water rafting is all- thought it'd be fun."

"Then you *should* go, Dylan. They're… your friends and… I want you to go. I just… overreacted."

"No, Marco, you didn't overreact, okay? It was really insensitive of me to even bring it up. I mean… of course it'd bother you, ya know?"

"Yeah, but… that shouldn't necessarily stop you from going with your friends, Dylan. I don't… want us to be like… you can only see me and be friends with me. I don't wanna be that selfish. So I think you should go. I'll just… it's only one overnight. I'll deal."

"This isn't…" I knew- bad of me to think it but I'd never had a fight with someone like that. "This isn't some kind of test, is it? Like if I go it's saying I don't really love you?"

"No," he shook his head and ran his finger around the ring. "No, Dylan. This… this tells me that you do love me. This is… romantic as hell."

"Well every now and then, I have an idea," I laughed. "So… is that a yes? You'll wear the ring?"

"Yes, but… I'm getting you one too," he grinned. "So that those college boys will see that you're promised to someone else." Then he leaned forward and kissed me softly.

I was so relieved. *So* relieved that it was okay now. And I was proud of myself too. I was proud that I'd had a fight with him but made it okay- that we could survive a pretty big fight.

And I was promised to my Sweet Marco.

I'd never been happier to make a promise. Especially to Marco Del Rossi.

23

I know it must have been hard on him that night I went away. But we made it through. We survived and worked hard for our love and our relationship and it paid off.

And *that* is why I decided to ask him a very important question one Sunday afternoon after making love to him for an hour.

"Now *that* never goes out of style," I whispered as I dragged my tongue up his throat.

"Shit, neither does that," he replied and caught my mouth in a kiss.

"Ya know… if we're not careful, we're going to die of heat exhaustion or something- dehydration maybe?" I wondered.

"Maybe from heat exhaustion. I think this is the hottest it's ever been here and the air conditioner doesn't seem to be helping, does it?" he asked, running his fingers over my bare and sweaty back.

"Definitely not. But… I also like being sweaty with you, so…" I kissed his forehead and ran my tongue over the gold chains around his neck- in particular the one that held my promise ring on it.

"You think," he said as he touched both chains, "that it would be sacrilege to put my cross and ring on the same chain? I'm started to feel like a pimp with all these gold chains."

"I told you, Marco- you can be my pimp any day," I laughed and kissed the column of his throat. "You can bring out that hat you wore our first date."

Now bringing up that hat earned me a slap on the ass and a "You're such a jerk". But it was funny and we laughed.

"Seriously though, Marco, why would it be sacrilege?"

"Well ya know… Italian man… putting a promise ring from his gay lover on a chain with his Roman Catholic cross? Ya know… what with the church frowning on 'sexual deviancy'."

"Yeah, but sexual deviancy can be *soo* much fun," I reminded him by rubbing him a little under the blanket.

"God, I know," he whimpered softly. "But… that wouldn't be weird?"

"No," I shook my head. "You should have everything that's important to you near you."

"Near my heart," he agreed.

"No. I mean… *near* you. I… you're coming to college with me- to my college… I assume in part to be with me…"

"Well of course, Dylan," he nodded and ran his hands through my hair. I loved when he did that- it was like… I don't know. It made me feel (and it's so girly and cheesy to say but) beautiful. Handsome. Sexy. Whatever. "And it's a great school who is giving me lots of free tuition."

"So… where are you gonna live? In campus housing?"

"I haven't really… thought about it too much. I replied late so I'll probably go on a res life waiting list or something. I… hadn't thought about it. I know my dad wants me to stay at home and I've been telling him since September that I want to be on my own- have a place away from home- but he doesn't take me seriously. When I get *married* he won't take me seriously, I swear. I could be being eaten by a bear, snap a photo and send it to him and he still wouldn't believe I was being eaten by a bear."

"Oh I'll eat you up like Papa Bear eats Goldilocks," I smirked and he laughed. I know. Bad example but we started kissing more and things began heating up again. "Move in with me," I whispered into a passionate kiss.

"*What*?" he gasped and pulled away immediately.

"Move in with me, Marco. I… don't wanna live in a dorm this year. I'm a junior… I want freedom to walk around in my underwear. And I want my boyfriend there to give me a hard time about leaving my clothes on the floor. I… want you to move in with me. We can find an apartment or house to rent."

"You… you're serious," he realized softly.

"I'm dead serious. I think we should and more than that- I *want* to," I told him.

"Dylan… we need to slam on the breaks here, okay? You… you're giving me rings and asking me to move in with you- that's-"

"That's how it is, Marco," I stopped him by place my finger over his lips. "I love you and you love me. We can't get rid of each other or shake it. We tried but we stick- we stuck. We're it. And I *am* going to ask you to marry me one day and you'd better be prepared to say 'yes, Dylan'. So just… be warned. It's happening. We can move in now or later- but it just makes economic and logical sense *now*."

"You've… thought about this," he half-asked half-told me.

"Yes. And I think… if we work it right… I mean… your dad isn't going to shell out money for you to shack up with me, but… if we got a two or three bedroom apartment? Or maybe a house to rent? Cheap? Then you could play it like… Paige just happened to mention her brother was looking for a couple roommates- you still have your own room for all your stuff. But… see? It's like… living together but not living together."

"In what sense?" he asked as I kissed on his stomach softly.

"As in we'll share bathroom space and shower space, but we can still sleep separately if you want. We'll have a couch and kitchen together but our clothes will be separate and there will be someone else there. So it's like… the best of both worlds. Plus… full-frontal benefits whenever we want."

"It… I can't believe you've been thinking about this that much."

"Yeah, it gets better. I have ten places lined up to go look at tomorrow night."

"Dylan, I still… don't… know about this. I mean… that's a big step and… we still have our problems."

"Like what?" I asked as I licked his hip bone.

"Dylllaaaan… that's not fair." Then he buried his fingers in my hair to pull me up his body. His really sexy body. There's still- I still contend that there is no sexier body than his on the entire planet. But when I say that, he always looks at me and says "there's one". He's such a goof.

"Well what's a problem?" I asked. "Why you still haven't got your belly button pierced after I keep asking and asking? That's not really a problem."

"No, we- that's a never going to happen, but-"

"Well I got behind the nose piercing thing and that is sexy as hell. So what about my belly button thing?" I asked. I'd been telling him for weeks that he'd look sexy with one.

"There's girly and there's *girly*," he told me.

"Well fine. I'll let it go for now but what problems do we have?"

"Jealousies. We still… have a jealousy thing between us and don't deny it. We… as much as we wanna trust each other-"

"I don't think it's that we don't trust each other, Marco. It's that we don't trust ourselves to trust each other. I… I don't know. I don't wanna pick it apart. I just wanna *be* with you, Marco. I wanna… have breakfast on a Saturday with you and have you fall asleep Sunday afternoons on my shoulder because I made you watch some dumb game with me. I want that closeness we've always been able to find and I'm not worried about the other details- about anything else. It'll work itself out- if we want it to. And with a roommate and two different bedrooms- we'd just… be roomies- not… housebroken."

"Yeah, I just… don't wanna rush into things."

"Well we're going to go look at those places, okay?" I told him as I slid a hand down to stroke him and he moaned softly- just like I liked him to. "And you can have time to make pro and con lists since I *know* you're doing that in your head already, which I don't appreciate, so I'm going to fuck you silly," I laughed and I did just that.

I did exactly that to him for another hour- until all he could do was whimper my name and grab at my hair. Until all he could do was thrash around under me and grab at my arms- scratch at my shoulder blades as I pumped in and out of him- deep and demanding. It was amazing. Every time amazed me but that that especially. I just wanted him to forget about the reasons why we shouldn't live together and concentrate on the feeling of how amazing we were together.

When I was finished and we'd come again and I was laying beside him, a sweaty mess the both of us, I said, "You still think we can't work it out? Living together?"

"I… uh… I…" was all he could say, as he was still shaken from the passionate love-making.

"You better figure out how you're gonna get your dad to agree," I grinned and kissed the protest right off his lips. "I told you that you'd say yes, Sweet Baby Marco."

Yes, I'd live with him. We'd move in and start learning to live with each other's quirks. I was sure there'd be plenty of things we'd need to adjust too. Like he'd have to accept the fact that I leave my towel on the floor in the bathroom when I'm done with it. Or the fact that I wouldn't put my clothes away after I washed them- I'd simply wear them from the laundry basket until it was empty- then I'd wash them again.

I couldn't begin to imagine what little quirks he would have that *I'd* have to learn to cope with. But I wanted to find out. I wanted to know. I wanted to live with him- make a home with him. I'd never been more sure of anything in my life except for my undying love for Marco Del Rossi.

24

"Well? What did you think of that place?" I asked as we got back in my car. The ninth place on my list of potential places to live with Marco.

He hadn't seemed all that enthused, but I was hoping he would be once we found a place.

"That dump? I wouldn't shower in that place, let alone have sex in it."

"I'd have to agree there," I confirmed. "Maybe the next place will be better. It's a house. When I talked to the owner, she said she's like ninety and it was her and her husband's house but he passed away and she can't bring herself to sell it. So she's going to rent.

I pull up to it soon enough and Marco was still being really quiet. I knew he was still running pro and con lists in his head and worrying about talking to his dad. "It'll be okay," I told him as I took his hand. We walked up to the door and I rang the bell.

"Well *hii*!" this middle aged guy greeted us. "Well aren't you the most darling little things! I'm Rodger. I'm showing you the place for my mom. Come on in."

Well at least she wouldn't have a problem with us being gay- that was for sure since he so obviously was.

We looked around and the place was amazing! Four bedrooms with two and a half baths and kitchen, dining room and living room… it was all great. Perfect. I couldn't believe it. I mean… it was beautiful.

"Mom wants a thousand a month for it. You pay electric and phones and heat. I'll plow snow from the driveway but you'll have to shovel the walkways."

"This place is… perfect," I told him. "It's really amazing."

"It's a beautiful house. Mom just wants to make sure the people in it will take care of it. Me and my partner had been living here for a few years but we just moved- wanted a new start and all that… closer to his work."

"Yeah, this place is just perfect- so much better than what we've been looking at."

"The rent is pretty cheap for a big house," Marco said.

"Yeah. The house is already paid off- this is just a little extra money for Mom."

I looked at Marco and saw in his eyes he was thinking- he was thinking about how great it'd be to have a room across from mine- to sneak across the hallway in the middle of the night to make love or cuddle or chat- either one- all of them.

"So when is it available? If we did take it- we'd be moving in a couple weeks- mid-August."

"That'd be fine. It's soon enough," he said. "We'd need first month and security to hold it."

"Two thousand?" I asked and he nodded. "Can we get back to you in a couple days?"

"Yes," he nodded and wrote down his direct number.

"Great," I smiled and we looked around one last time before heading out to the car. "Now tell me it wouldn't be amazing to live there together," I told him once we were in the car.

"It would be amazing to live there together, Dylan, fine. Yes. But… my father will *never* pay for me to live with another guy. There's no way and I don't wanna be working all the time to make rent."

"You'll never know until you try," I said as I slipped my hand into his. "Maybe… we can get Paige involved- like… your mom invites her over for diner and you bring up housing and she can mention I'm looking for roommates or something?"

"Maybe," he whispered.

"Marco? I… really want you to try. I don't wanna start arguments, okay? I'm not saying push it as a gay issue. I don't… want your dad to hate me because I'm the one that's fucking his son. I just… see if you can work it?"

"I'll see. I don't want him to hate *me* either, and he already sort of does," he sighed.

I squeezed his hand a bit. I knew it was so hard on him, knowing his father knew but chose to ignore it and make him feel ashamed. That feeling of shame- the feeling that you've disappointed your parents- it's the worst feeling in the world. The feeling that your parents might not love you anymore… it's horrible.

That night he called his parents and said that he was staying at Craig's for band practice. But he slept over at my house and I held him. We didn't even do anything sexual at all except share a chaste kiss. But I just held him against me as he slept. I knew he was wrestling with that decision and that it would hurt him either way it ended. Either way his father would say no and he'd be stuck at home with no hope of getting out OR his dad would agree and he'd have to go on lying and pretending to be something he wasn't.

So I just held him.

I just held him and loved him as much as I could and in the morning, he was gone. He left a note saying he had stuff to take care of and that he'd call.

And he did call later and said he was still thinking about what I'd asked and that he wanted to chill at home that night- his mom needed his help with something and I gave him his space when all I wanted to do was go over there and hit his father and tell him to wake up- that one day he'd have grandchildren that he'd never get to meet if he kept treating his son like a leper or worse.

But I didn't do that; I had practice and I went and skated and thought about my Sweet Marco the entire time.

I got home the next night and Paige was out and Marco hadn't called so I stayed in- got comfy in sweats and a tank top and laid out on the couch with chips and soda and flipped to some sports thing that was on- golf, not really my thing- so I found some movie instead- cop movie or something manly.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew the door slammed and I opened my eyes and the cop movie was gone and I had a lap full of Italian man. "YOUR SISTER IS A GENIUS!" he screeched and kissed me passionately.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"She's AMAZING!!! BRILLIANT! PERFECT! TALENTED! Did I say BRILLIANT?!"

"What are you talking about? Talking about Paige doesn't really turn me on," I told him.

"No, but what about talking about your sister and her brilliance at dinner with the Del Rossi's?" Paige smiled as she flopped down next to us on the couch. "And how her stunning Oscar winning performance just got you one cute-as-a-button roommate for the upcoming school year?" she grinned.

"OH MY GOD!" I screamed and bounced on them BOTH. "Are you SERIOUS?!"

"Yes!" they both answered.

I jumped off the couch and hugged her and then yanked him against me. He- we… were moving in. Together. We'd be living together. LIVING together!

I'd never been happier in all my life. Never happier to be promised to and moving in with Marco Del Rossi.

25

Well… two weeks later? I was taking all my stuff from my room and the garage and moving it into the house with everyone's help of course. I took basically everything from my old room- *every*thing because I didn't plan on moving back to my parents' house. I planned on living in that house with Marco until I graduated and then either staying at the house or finding a real apartment for Marco and I to live in while he finished his schooling. Then we would have jobs and get married and buy our own house. That's what I planned.

So I packed up everything- all my stuff. I took posters off the wall that had been there for a long time- posters of my favorite hockey players and a few guilty pleasure pictures. I packed up all the stuff of Marco's that was in my drawer as well.

I was able to move before him so I'd have a few nights before he was there with me but I felt good about it already. I felt really good when he helped move the last of my boxes up to my bedroom.

"Are you sure you want to hang these things up again?" he asked as he glanced at my poster of the greatest hockey players of all time.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked.

"I just… don't really find this at all a turn on when we're getting all full frontal- to look up and see this?"

"Well we're all full frontal, you *should* be look at *me*," I reminded him.

"C'mon, Dylan," he groaned. "Please? Put it like… on the inside of your closet door or something? These guys are all… not very attractive. If you wanna have pictures of hockey players on the wall, find me some cute ones."

"Like *me*?" I grinned.

"Yes, please… some naked pictures of you on the ice would be nice."

"Well I don't have any of those but I do have some pictures- shots I've had done at tournaments and things like that. And by the way, I don't go around judging you and your stuff. Why do you get to judge me and mine?"

"Um… because I have taste and you don't?" he laughed.

"Oh that just *hurts*, Boy," I said, clutching my stomach.

"I'm not your 'boy' anymore. I'm all growned up and I'll prove it to you," he said and shoved me on to the bed.

"Oh yeah? How you gonna do *that*? *Boy*," I smirked.

"I'm gonna fuck you silly," he whispered before covering my mouth with his for a passionate kiss that took my breath away. God he was so hot- that Italian man. *My* Italian lover.

"You sure you can handle it, Del Rossi? It's a pretty big job."

"Oh I'm pretty big and you *know* it, Michalchuk," he replied as he started pulling off my clothes and I started yanking at his. It'd been a few days since we'd had sex and longer since he'd fucked me. We usually play with me on top being in him but every now and then he gets in the mood to turn the tables and I never argue with him. What my Marco wants? My Marco gets.

And that night? My Marco wanted in. We kissed more as we ran our hands greedily over each other. He slid his hands and lips all over and it was so passionate and loving yet demanding at the same time- just like I like my Marco.

"Where's the stuff?" he asked, kissing me hotly and nipping at my Adam's apple.

"Shiiiit," I groan. "Don't… do that… if… you-"

"Shut up and answer my question," he said, grabbing my hair roughly and nipping at me again.

God, that made me thrust up against his body and it made my toes curl. He had complete power over me every time he got in one of these dominate Master type moods. It was incredibly sexy and I was glad I didn't have to look at hockey players up on my wall when I opened my eyes.

"Where?" he asked and bit my lip.

"Drawer," I whimpered and pointed to the table beside my bed.

"Good boy," he nodded and I hear him open the drawer as he stayed straddling me, keeping me where he wanted me. "Now roll over, Boy."

I flipped over like he ordered and then came the onslaught of torture. Of Marco hands kneading my ass and stroking my sides in a way he knew drove me crazy. It came as Marco lips nipping at my throat and a wet Marco tongue drawing letters on my back, over my shoulder blades. Marco lips whispering sexy secrets into my ear and licking them away off my back.

It had me in ecstasy, grabbing the sheets and whimpering and begging for him to touch me, fuck me- anything. He could do anything to me that he wanted and that revelation earned me a slap on the ass. "I know that," was his reply.

After that? Came the slow and tedious way he'd finger me- adding lube and letting his fingers slide around me at will- *his* will. He'd make me moan softly as he brushed over my prostate and then he'd make me whimper and beg him for more when his fingers left.

"God… Marco," I whispered. "God, Baby, please… *please*."

That's when he swept up my body and pushed inside me and I realized he hadn't asked me for a condom but I really didn't care. We were only sleeping with each other. We had only slept with each other for years and I'd been tested for everything long before we'd started dating- when my parents found me sort of in the middle of having sex with Alan.

This was the first time either of us had been in the other without the latex and I couldn't really feel any difference but there was because I *knew* it.

He'd spill inside me tonight and truly make me his and the thought was not unappealing and it made me push back against him and that made him push harder into me. And that's how it was- we'd rock together and moan and whimper and he'd hold my hair and make me say how much I loved him over and over and how happy I was that he was fucking me. My Marco did have a dirty side for sure. No one could ever imagine how dirty he would eventually get as we lived together and started getting closer and more comfortable.

But that night it was just him and me and his intense need to prove something to himself or to me or to us and to make us come. I felt his hand under my hips, stroking me, rubbing on me and we just about came together in pants and gasps and groans.

And when he stilled, on top of me, and kissed my neck, I heard him ask, "and where will the hockey posters go?"

"Inside my closet," I answered.

"See? I told you we could reach a compromise, Baby," he laughed. "Now… let's talk about your inability to hang up clothes…"

I groaned loudly and annoyed but he grabbed my wrists and pinned them down to the bed and I'd never been more sure or more entertained by anything in this world except by Marco Del Rossi.

26

The next morning I woke to a Marco-alarm. "C'mon… get up," he said. "Get up, Dylan! Up! C'mon! I made you breakfast but you gotta get up!"

"Marco," I groaned. "Shh… some people are trying to sleep off a night of being fucked here."

"Welcome to my world now get *up*," he said and slapped my ass forcefully.

"Ooowww," I complained. "C'mon… cut me a little slack here, Hon. I'm *tired*."

"Fine. I'll just get dressed and go eat my chocolate chip and banana pancakes all myself."

Oh that got me up. I *loved* his chocolate chip and banana pancakes aka his bribe-Dylan pancakes. "How many are there?" I asked as I opened my eyes.

"Sit up and I'll tell you," he said and I saw in his hand he had a plate with a little one on it.

"Gimme!"

"Sit up and you can have it."

"What? You think you've got me trained like a dolphin or something? I'll jump out of the water for a fish?"

"No- like a killer whale," he gleaned.

"Oh that's it, Del Rossi," I said as I jumped from the bed and he took off like a shot down to the kitchen where I finally caught up with him. I ate the pancake from his fingers and yanked him against me. "Just because you got one up on me last night doesn't mean you get to poke fun at my fears."

"I got quite a few up on you if I'm not mistaken," he laughed and kissed me softly. "And I apologize for bringing up Shamu."

"Marrrco," I groaned and he laughed. I loved that with him- laughing and having fun. I could tell we'd have a great time living together.

So I ate pancakes and he told me that Paige was bringing over some stuff from my parents and Ellie was coming too and that we'd work on unpacking my things before his arrived.

And that was fine with me since I wanted to spend some time with Paige before she went off to college. It was weird because when we were younger I hated her but since coming out and everything with Marco… she's probably my best friend, besides him.

"What do you think about medieval lit? Monsters in the Myst?" I heard him say. He was so adorable and sexy with the bandana on and blue shirt and… I had to get my mind *out* of having sex with him.

"Mmm no. Let's not take any courses where they make us read Beowulf. Ooo hockey art! Dylan's, I presume?"

"Yup," he answered her. Yeah- we knew it wasn't going in *my* room. "You know if you moved in we could out vote him on matters of decor?"

"I heard that," I said and he looked at me and I flipped him off. He just laughed.

Yeah- he knew I was under his finger now- right where he wanted me.

"You look unusually happy," Paige said as she got coffee mugs out and filled them. "Nice night?"

"Marco night," I grinned. She had no idea what it meant but she knew I was happy.

And I knew I was happy too. I was ecstatically happy actually. All I could think about was the night he officially moved in and how we would occupy our time. I thought of-

"… no one has thought of throwing me a going away party. Hint double hint," Paige grinned and looked at Marco. I heard that and I was mad. No one would take away my Marco time.

"Uh Marco? Someone's supposed to be moving in here in two days. Hint double hint."

"Funny cause someone's also supposed to deciding on university courses with me," Ellie added.

"Okay. Mom? Dad? Relax. I'm all over it, okay?" then he sipped my coffee. "Ulg, sweet mother mary! This is mud!"

"Yeah your new roomie is Java-ly challenged," Paige laughed. "Have a cookie!" she offered instead.

"Maybe be java challenged but I'm not-"

"Dylllaannn," Marco warned and I closed my mouth.

"Wow has he got *you* whipped like a puppy," Ellie laughed. "Go Marco. I woulda thought it'd be the other way around."

"Not on Marco night," I sang as I headed back to the kitchen.

"Eew! Too much information!" Paige yelped and I turned just in time to catch the pillow Marco had thrown at me.

I just laughed and headed over to plant a big kiss on him.

"God, gay men are so hot," Ellie commented before picking up my old hockey jersey.

"NO. That's… not for touching," I told her quickly. "That's special."

"Special? It's probably still got sweat or blood on it or something."

"No- it's been cleaned. It's just sentimental and you're not going to toss it somewhere or anything."

"What's so special about it?" Paige asked. "I've worn it tons of times."

"Yeah, well it's what… Marco wore after I stole his virginity," I smiled.

"Eeew! You let me wear your sex shirt?!" Paige squealed as she hit me.

"I washed it! It's just…"

"Eeww! Every time you see this shirt- you think of that and you let me borrow it?"

"Look how red Marco's face is?!" Ellie laughed hysterically.

"Yes, can we please stop talking about my sex life here?" he asked as he stood up. "I gotta call my mom anyway. When I get back- let's have the conversation ended okay?"

Well by the time he got back, it *had* ended after I told them both how incredibly hot he was and how much I loved him and how lucky I was that Paige became friends with him so he'd be at that beach day years ago. God it was so many years ago and I still find myself thinking back to the day I first him.

The next day I was busy trying to find someone to rent the extra room and these two girls showed up and giggled the whole time and chattered in Japanese. Hmm… no thanks?

"Wow! Uh… did I just walk into a Gwen Stefani video?" he asked and I laughed. "Here. I need coffee bad I've been up all night packing."

"Greaat, when are the movers comin'?" Because the sooner he had movers coming, the sooner he was living here and the sooner we could be having all the full frontal fun we wanted day and night.

Yeah- it wasn't going to be a distraction having him here.

"Uh… tomorrow and they're not movers. It's me, my dad and Uncle Louie."

"Your dad?" I *really* didn't wanna deal with that. Not when I was so happy.

"Yeah my dad. Paying movers? That's Del Rossi family sacrilege," he explained as I followed him to the kitchen and watched his ass. He'd started wearing this low jeans that just… I need to stop this.

"So is letting his prize son move away from home but you convinced him to do that," I complained and yes, I knew I sounded like a small child as I did.

"Yeah, after I convinced him you're just a friend. Barely a friend. A distance acquaintance I barely talk to."

"So I shouldn't ask your dad for his permission to marry you," I grinned.

"Seriously, Dylan, this has to look legit. Okay?"

"We went over this. I got it," I replied.

"Okay T minus eight hours til Paige's send off. Where do we keep the piñata string?"

"Do we even *have* piñata string?" I wondered as I followed to the living room. "I… have never had a piñata in my entire life, Marco. However me and a couple guys from hockey once beat on this goalie from another team for a while… though candy never came out."

"Why on earth did you beat up some poor defenseless goalie?"

"He started it!" I contested. "He was all… we're gonna kick your ass and we were eleven. We didn't know any better and we had no upper arm strength anyway- we didn't hurt him. Much."

"Dylan, I'm shocked," he said, staring at me. "I would have said you wouldn't have a mean violent bone in your body, but I'm absolutely shocked. You spend two years of your life sleeping with someone to find out he's this violent ragey type person. Absolutely *shocked*."

"Oh *stop*," I said and shoved him playfully onto the couch. "And hang your damn piñata."

"Well…" he said and stood up. "In all honesty, *Baby*, you *are* the big strong tall man," he said as he advanced on me a little with this… kind of southern accent he did sometimes- ever since we'd watched Gone with the Wind- a MILLION times. "Maybe you can help a little person like me out?" he finished, pouting his lips at me.

"You'd really think I'd stop falling for that pout and those puppy eyes, but they get me every *time*," I sighed and took the string. "Where?"

And then I spent the better part of an hour hanging ALL the decorations as he directed me on where to put each and everyone. "Marrrrcoooo," I whimpered with the last five decorations. "Baby, it looks *fine*, okay? They're perfect and-"

"They're not until they're all symmetrical and pretty, Dylan. You want it to be perfect for your sister, right? Your sister and your boyfriend? Because if it's not perfect, she'll blame me and who will I blame?"

"Me," I sighed and finished them to his specifications.

Yes. I was whipped. Never in my life had I imagined being whipped. *Ever*. Never.

Until Marco Del Rossi.

27

Well the party ended abruptly with his dad and Uncle Louie. I know we were disappointed but people still hung out a little and I saw him and Paige sitting and talking, which I suppose they needed to do. But… I wanted to know what they talked about- if they talked about me.

So I pretended to be checking in on his dad and then waited on the other side of the wall to hear what they were saying. What *he* was saying…

"I know. It's just- high school was a cake walk compared to what's next. How am I gonna possibly deal?"

"Um… you have Dylan. And the rest of us; it's not like we're disappearing."

"Oh really? You're moving 5 zillion miles away. Ellie's vanishing into res. Spinner and Jim are still stuck at Degrassi. Craig's in Vancouver. And… and… I'm moving in with Dylan. My first live in boyfriend; it's not exactly familiar territory."

I listened and I was… he'd never really mentioned any anxiety over the move, but I had to admit I was a bit nervous too. I mean… I wanted it to work. Hell I needed it to work out so we could be together. I'd have to remind him of that later. I made a mental note.

"Not for any of us, Hon. We are all looking in the big void of the unknown and it's a little bit scary. A lot a bit for all of us."

"Get a good long distance plan, okay?"

"I'll miss you too, Hon."

I smiled and his dad said something and I had to turn away, but… I wanted to quell some of those fears for him. Later. That's when it had to be since his dad was here and he had made me *swear* to keep a wide distance from him when his dad was around.

So when the pain reliever and heating pad finally started working on him, I was grateful. His mother came to get him after me and Uncle Louie had unloaded what they'd brought. Yes- I am a pack mule for all, basically. It's the curse of being tall and athletic.

The other part of that curse is the handsome Italian guys it attracts, but it's my cross to bear.

"So… you going home tonight then?" I asked once his dad was in the car and on his way home.

"Yeah- I gotta load the rest of my boxes in the van tomorrow morning and bring them over. I'm hoping I can con Spin into it- maybe with some ice cream or something."

"Will that really work? Bribing him with ice cream?" I asked.

"If it doesn't, I'll try sexual favors."

"Um… I don't *think* so. He doesn't swing that way," I informed him. "He's as straight as they come- pardon the bad bad pun."

"There are things I can do as good as girls can," he informed *me*. "And it always makes *you* come."

"Because I find you completely irresistible and I wanna stop this conversation before I can no longer have you down on me without thinking about Spinner."

We both laughed at that and he kissed me and headed home but I made a mental note to talk with him.

And that opportunity came the next day, shortly after his parents left their son in his new room he was renting from his friend's older brother who happen to attend the same college and have a room free and who happened to be thinking of all sorts of nasty dirty things to make said son do.

Oh but my world was fun back then.

"Now… let's talk about *your* décor and taste," I said as I walked into his room and everything was all over. "Huh? What are you planning on doing in here?"

"I was thinking an ode to all things fashionable and hot. Maybe some GQ Brad Pitt pictures… a little Ryan Reynolds pre-Alanis… my Cruel Intentions posters."

"So the opposite of high school?" I laughed.

"Are you kidding? He wouldn't even *buy* me an N'Sync poster! I begged and begged for one and-" he stopped and laughed a bit. "And I had no idea that the reason I dreamed of being in a room alone with Justin Timberlake was not to get a singing lesson and but to lick him from head to toe."

"You have an illness, Marco. It's called…not-paying-attention-to-Dylan-itis and I'm afraid you've got a bad case of it."

"OH yeah? It sounds serious, Doc. What… what do I do for it?" he grinned.

"You… have to swallow a big Dylan-pill," I replied and we laughed as he pulled me onto the bed with him. "Marco? You… you know we're gonna be okay, right?"

"Of course we are. Why wouldn't we be?" he asked, offended now.

"Just… I… okay- I overheard a little of your conversation with Paige. And I'd be lying if I wasn't nervous about the whole… living together thing too, but… it's not because of *you* that I'm nervous. It's just about all the other stuff… like how and when- once it's done, it'll be easier."

"Yeah," he nodded. "I… I know."

"Oh and btw?" I said. "I'll be your *only* live in boyfriend. Not the *first*. The only."

That made a classic Marco smile spread across his lips. "The only," he agreed.

I kissed him softly and rested against him comfortably for a few minutes and our fingers locked together. It was… such a serene moment. Just the two of us and nothing else- in our new place. For our first night living together and not living together all at once.

"So… will we be mainly sleeping in my room or yours?" I asked him.

"Well since in about a week, I *know* what your room will look like, we'll be spending time in *mine*, where I know I won't have a rat running over my toes or something."

"I've never had *rats* in my room!" I said, smacking his stomach lightly. "Don't even say that."

"Well there was that spider incident, Dylan, and it was gross beyond all reason so let's say my room while your training happens."

"My training?" I questioned as I sat up a bit.

"Yes, training. I got my way about the hockey posters in your room. That was step one- breaking you away from the familiar. Step two is teaching you how to make coffee and then step three is training you to clean *up*. Because like it or not you've chosen a neat freak to spend your life with."

"I've chosen an obsessive and compulsive person to spend my life with," I corrected him. "But he's hot so it makes up for it a lot."

"Well I'm glad you think so. Now… Mr. Junior… how exactly do you plan on spending the first night with your younger and hot new roomie?"

"I plan on seducing him," I informed him. "But I thought we'd make some dinner or something first? Maybe watch a movie or unpack- whatever. Then I thought we'd christen your room and maybe try some shower sex."

"Sex in the shower?"

"Yes, Marco. If I'm going to have to learn to clean up, then you're going to learn to think outside the bedroom for sex. We don't *al*ways have to be on a bed."

"But it's generally easier," he protested. "You're quite tall and the couch would be a challenge."

"Yes, exactly. A challenge, young Marco, is exactly what it will be to get my hot and younger boyfriend to get out of his Catholic upbringing and embrace the finer points of fun and casual sex."

"Casual sex?" he questioned. "We are *not* casual, Dylan."

"No, I didn't mean that," I said as I pulled him up off the bed. I pulled his hand with me down to the kitchen because I was hungry and we needed to make dinner. "I didn't mean it like that- like casual. But I'm just saying every time we have sex it doesn't have to be… so serious."

"Serious?"

"You're very serious during sex, Baby," I told him the truth because if we were going to be in a relationship for the rest of our lives we both needed to compromise and be able to talk about things that bothered us. "Not… I don't want you to be mad or anything. I love the sex, okay? I'm not saying I don't but… sometimes it might be nice to do it differently or… do something kinda crazy- out of the ordinary like shower sex. Or… on the kitchen table."

"Where we EAT?!" he was shocked and I had to kiss him because he was *soo* adorably innocent sometimes. And that amused me since he was *so* not innocent each time he fucked me. I mean… yes it was intense and serious but there was also a slight darkness too it. I knew I just needed to make it okay for him- make sure he knew it was really okay if he wanted to be a little dark.

"We'll… I'll wash it with Clorox before and after, I promise," I laughed. "Just… think about it? You… know I'm the reckless one- I need a little recklessness some time, okay? That's what I'm saying."

"Okay," he nodded and kissed me softly. "Then shower sex will be had. Though I'll probably be counting on you to make sure I don't slip and fall and kill myself."

"No accidental deaths during shower sex, check," I laughed. "Now… do you wanna start the coffee lesson now? And I'll be tested tomorrow morning?"

"Yes," he said, relieved.

I watched him carefully as he showed me how to do it and I'd forgotten how sexy it was to watch his lips. Every now and then, they'd catch my eye and I'd have to watch for an hour or so- how they moved, how he'd lick them slightly, how they were so sexy when saying words like 'Dylan' and 'about' and 'me' and "Dylan, are you paying attention?"

"Huh?"

"You're not even paying attention."

"I… uh…" Shit. Busted.

"What's *so* fascinating that you can't learn to make coffee?"

I didn't answer him though- instead, I leaned down and licked his lower lip *so* slowly before then doing to the top one as well.

"Oh," was his only response before I picked him up off his feet and carried him back up to his room where I proceeded to take his clothes off and make love with him for what seemed like hours until we were too tired to move or come again.

"What about fun shower sex? Or table sex?" he asked, after a few minutes of catching our breath.

"I… it has to be the right time for those. And that felt more of a sweeping you off your feet type moment," I explained.

"Mmm… it *was*," he sighed softly and kissed my sweat gleaned chest. "Now *this* is the type of sweaty Dylan I can get on board with. After hockey practice Dylan is quite another story."

"Different kind of sweat, I suppose," I laughed. "But now I'm *starving* and I don't wanna cook."

"Me neither but now I'm very hungry. OH! I have…" he crawled to the side of his bed and grabbed a bag or box or something. "I have Oreos!" he grinned happily as he opened the package. "Something to tide us over until my legs will work."

Then he shoved an Oreo in my mouth. "Thanks," I laughed around it.

"Well I'm here to help you out, Buddy."

"Funny, I thought you were here to be my sex toy, Sweet Marco," I teased, running my fingers up his spine.

"Don't get all sexy again. I'm tired," he warned.

"Yeah, yeah, no more sexy tonight. Got it."

"Well how much more could you possibly *want*?" he asked and I knew living together would be amazing but I'd never really stopped to consider how much we could never do because of being at my parents' house or… not having our own space. I had never considered how guarded he'd been because of his parents and the fear of being caught or… but looking at him eating Oreos in the nude, smiling and being so playful and adorable and hot all at once? I knew living together would be so much more than amazing. It'd be right.

"I want it all, Marco. *Every*thing," I laughed before I pounced on him again.

"Dylan!" he squeaked underneath me. "I dropped an Oreo on the bed!"

"Oh, Baby, I'm sorry," I said as I picked it up and bit one half. "Here," I said and offered him the other half, which he bit as well and we kissed as we pulled away. "Okay… I wanna check out that pizza place that gave us their menu. So I'm ordering food."

"Lots of food," he told me. "I mean… we're gonna be stuck here unpacking tomorrow too."

"Okay, lots of food," I agreed and made the call.

We spent the wait eating Oreos and then the bell rang and I pulled on some sweats and ran down to get the food. I took it to the kitchen and got a couple plates out for us and when I turned around? I saw it. I mean… *it*.

Marco. Sexy Marco with his hair all tussled and his lips well kissed and my jersey from high school. And nothing else. Damn just thinking about what he looked like turns me on- to this day.

"Dylan?" I heard him say and when I finally focused on him saying words, I heard him saying- "Hello? Earth the Dylan, how much was the pizza? I'll give you half. Dylan?! Are you okay?"

"Uh…" I swallowed. Or tried. "Uh… yeah, I… it's…"

"Dylan," he said and I felt him grab me and shake me. "Wake up." Then he slapped me.

"Did you just *slap* me?" I asked as I sort of snapped out of my Sexy Marco induced daze.

"Yes and I'll do it again if I need to."

"I think that's the first time I've ever been bitch-slapped."

"And it won't be the last," he laughed as he grabbed some pizza. "What's your damage anyway?"

"I just… you… are *very* sexy in my jersey tonight."

"I told you no more sexy stuff," he reminded me. "So just stop it."

"Then don't wear my jersey and nothing else. It's just… it's older you now but I think back to post virginity loss you and it's a very… interesting image in my mind."

"Well stop it since it's probably a sexy one and I told you no more sexy tonight. And if you don't stop, I'll slap you again."

"I wouldn't even think about it. You'll find yourself tied to the bed real quick."

He just laughed and took another piece of pizza.

And that was how we spent our first night living together- of course we did have sex again. I mean… there was never any doubt in my mind. I never doubted my ability to get him into bed.

I've never had a problem seducing Marco Del Rossi.

28

Our alone time was short lived when Ellie showed up at our door a few nights after our first night there, but it also made Marco happy to have a friend and a familiar face around so I agreed. I knew she was good for the money and she soon got involved with her editor and wasn't around much.

It really worked out. First semester went really well for both of us, I think. He and Ellie would come to games, sometimes accompanied by her handsome editor boyfriend, sometimes not. But we'd go out for pizza or something afterwards. It was so comfortable and it just fit- it was right.

And that's why I started thinking ahead to December or February… I wasn't sure but for either Christmas or Valentine's Day, I wanted to propose. I was thinking about it because I knew I wanted to be with him forever. I knew that for sure but I wasn't sure how it would work or what he'd say. He was still young, so was I, but why wait for something we both knew was right?

But my dilemma was that I wasn't sure how I should do it or how I'd get the ring back to have something engraved or added to it. And I didn't have any money either, that was another issue. Plus I didn't think his father would help pay for a ceremony and that's why I decided to wait for Valentine's Day. But that didn't stop me from wanting something super romantic and tres pretty for him for Christmas.

"So… what are the plans?" I asked him one night as I ran a comb through my hair. Once that was done, I turned in time to see him slip out of his jeans and into a pair of sweats, which meant no sex. We both had subtle hints to leave for the other about these things. When he wore sweats to bed it meant he was tired and just wanted to cuddle and sleep. When *I* was really tired or exhausted I always left the light on before I climbed into bed. It was when I turned it off, it meant I wanted to do something naughty. But there again- we were comfortable. We knew each other so intimately.

I mean… I knew the order that he washed things in the shower. I knew he wet his hair first and then washed it. Then as he rinsed his hair, he'd wash his body, starting with his arms and working his way down. Then he'd condition his hair as he washed his face. I knew he liked to shave in the morning before brushing his teeth. And that he liked his coffee with four sugars. I knew that he preferred pop tarts to cereal any day, regardless of what cereal it was. I also knew exactly how dark he liked his toast and that he liked putting olive oil on bread instead of butter. I even knew what brand of olive oil he used.

The amazing thing about the whole thing was that he knew all those things about me too- little trivia and tid bits that a lover should know. That a husband should know.

"The plans?" he asked as we both climbed into his bed.

"For Christmas. Are we just going to celebrate separate or are we gonna split time?"

"Oh. I hadn't even… thought about it yet," he sighed. "I mean… we just lucked out that your parents went away for Thanksgiving and mine invited *every*one over."

"I know. I don't think we'll be that lucky again, so we better have a plan."

"Well I don't want to not see you on Christmas. But… I also have to go to Mass with my parents Christmas Eve."

"God, catholic boys are so sexy," I laughed and kissed his forehead. "So separate Christmases?"

"No, I… would you *want* to go to church with me? I know you're not very religious, but…"

"Yeah, I'd go with you," I answered as I pulled him closer to me and we each laid on our side so we could face each other. "But what about your dad?"

"I… I wanna try to reach him again," he whispered and I took his hand in mine and held it against my chest. "I wanna… I don't know. I wanna try. I have to try."

"So we try," I told him. "So… what then? Assuming I'm invited."

"Well… Christmas Eve is when we get everyone together- the ones who aren't in Italy that is. Mom cooks a *ton* of food- you'll literally die from it all. Then we open presents and go to Mass. So we do Christmas Eve with my parents and Christmas Day with yours?"

"That works out perfect since my family does everything *on* Christmas. So when are you gonna talk to your dad?"

"I was thinking I should have them over for dinner."

The dreaded words: have them over for dinner. These words terrified me. Well frankly? I think they terrified us equally both but if he wanted to try-

"You should be here. I think or… I don't know. What do you think?"

"I don't know. I mean… having me here might automatically shut your father down- like rubbing his nose in it or something. But I am the man you're sleeping with and I wanna be here to support you."

"You're the man I love with all my heart too," he reminded me gently and kissed my chin.

"And you're the one that's sexy beyond all reason," I smiled as I ran my fingers through his hair- it was quite long and he wore it slightly curled and *so* sexy. I never really thought I'd like a guy with long hair but it really didn't matter how he wore his hair- it was that I loved him and no matter what he did? I'd love him still.

" Ma invited me tomorrow for dinner anyway. I'll call her and ask if they want to come here instead. I'll cook. And you can… well you can watch me cook."

And cook he did- all day the next day. I know he was so nervous. He was nervous and scared and when he was both of those things? He ate. So he as he cooked, he ate and ate and ate but he's a great cook and I ate as well.

"Okay- we *have* to stop snacking on these or we won't have any for later," he said and grabbed the plate of cannolis and shoved it in the fridge.

"But they're good," I whined and he grabbed a finger of his alfredo sauce and shoved it in my mouth.

"Shiiiit," I groaned as I sucked it off him. "That is amazing."

"Mmm so is your mouth," he groaned as well and got another finger of sauce. This time I carefully licked it off- slowly. The sauce was *so* good- almost as good as the lusty look that took over his eyes.

"We have time," I mentioned. And Ellie was gone for the night.

"Yeaah," he whispered as he checked the pots and turned them off and he was around the counter so fast- kissing me madly and pulling at my clothes. I did the same and realized he'd been pushing me back toward the kitchen table. Oh yeah! Table sex!

We kissed madly for several minutes and I hoisted his bare ass up on the table so he was sitting in front of me as I probed his mouth with my tongue. I loved the taste of him ordinarily but that day? He'd been tasting delicious food all day long- sweet cannoli filling and alfredo sauce as well… I wanted to lick his entire mouth clean and I probably would have had he not took both of us into his hands and started rubbing us together.

I groaned and nearly lost motor function for a few minutes. He kissed me out of it. "Be right back," he whispered as he headed away from me.

"Marco!" I called, helpless- having only to watch his beautiful backside as he walked away. I have no idea where he went but I knew when he was back with lube from the downstairs bathroom.

"Bend over," he whispered and shoved me over the table and I couldn't believe it.

Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever imagined he would bend me over our kitchen table and fuck me into oblivion an hour before his parents were supposed to arrive for dinner. Never would I have expected it. Not from Marco Del Rossi.

29

"Hurry!" he said, slapping my ass as I ran out of the bathroom for my room to get dressed.

"Well if someone hadn't wanted to come *twice*, we'd have more than ten minutes to shower and set the table!" I yelled from my room.

"And someone needs to Clorox the table!" he yelled back.

"Because SOMEone didn't think to grab a shirt and catch his boyfriend's cum!" I accused.

"Well someone ELSE should be responsible for thinking about all this stuff!" was his reply.

I just laughed as I tugged on clothes really quick. Luckily years of practice with quick changes for games and getting to buses paid off. Plus I had washed my hair that morning so I didn't wet it in the shower. I ran down and quickly cleaned off the table like I promised and started pulling out the placemats, dishes and silverware.

He came down a few minutes later. His hair was wet but he'd still managed to get some product in it.

"Dylan, do you remember how I showed you how to fold napkins?" he asked as he started carrying the bowls to the table.

"Yes, I can fold napkins."

"But do you remember how *I* showed you? Because that's the way we fold them in the Del Rossi family and since you're all promised to a Del Rossi, you will fold the napkins in our way."

"And the Michalchuk way is to toss them on the table haphazardly," I informed him with a grin.

He just stared at me- his eyes angry and demanding- staring me down, not even blinking for several minutes- what seemed like several minutes. "Okay, *stop*!" I whined as I caved. "I'll fold them so good even Great Grandma Del Rossi would be proud. And don't look at me like that again," I pouted.

"Oh, Dylan… my ice hockey god… the apple of my eye… maker of all my dreams… blond sex machine… but big pussy when it comes to letting his boyfriend walk all over him!" he laughed and I grabbed a piece of lettuce out of the salad bowl and chucked it at him. "God, you're such a *jerk*," he said.

"You insult me and *I'm* the jerk?!"

"You're that jerky," he laughed. "Now can my blond Adonis manage to carry the water to the table today?"

"Shut up," I said.

"Well you keep saying that you're great with the hockey and I've seen you skate on ice no less yet you can't manage to walk across a room without spilling your drink. What's up with that?"

"You're gonna get a spanking later," I warned. "Mark my words. I am bigger and probably stronger than you and I'll have you over my knee for your abuse and torture of me today."

"Oh I only abuse you in the *best* ways, Baby," he whispered against my neck before kissing it softly.

"God, you make me weak," I replied, just as soft.

"I know. It's a talent of mine. I'm a great cook, a snappy dresser, good friend and I make all powerful hockey stars weak at the knees."

"I better be the *only* hockey star on his knees for you."

"Rest assured, I'm a taken man," he smiled and I really think he needed- *we* needed the playful banter before-

DING DONG!

"Oh god, I'm gonna throw up," he said quickly.

"Relax, okay? If it doesn't feel right, you can always just not tell him, okay? You can always just not say anything. I won't be offended or angry."

"Okay," he nodded and we kissed softly. "I love you."

"I love you too, Sexy Marco."

Then he headed to the door and pleasantries were all spoken- we brought them in and he offered them some wine. I sat in the living room with them waiting.

"Oh, Marco made bruschetta. I'll get it."

"Actually it's pronounced bruschetta- with a hard c," his father corrected me.

"OH? I didn't know that. That's interesting."

I went and brought the plate out with Marco and the wine. "Dinner will be ready really soon," he announced, "but I knew you like the bruschetta, Dad, so… I made it."

"Thank you, Marco. So how is school?"

Finally! A topic of conversation. Marco sat in a chair next to mine and told them all about school and caught them up on Ellie's life as well. And he asked me about hockey and then we were at dinner.

"Marco, you make me so proud," his mom said. "This alfredo is divine."

"Thanks, Ma. I've been playing with the recipe a little. I took Nonna's recipe and yours and sort of…"

"Created your own," she smiled. "It's excellent."

I looked at his dad, who was quiet and staring at his food. "Yes, Marco's an excellent cook. Ellie and I certainly don't starve and live off the normal college kid diet with him around. While other kids are eating macaroni and cheese we're having antipasto and alfredo," I commented.

"Boys should not be doing the cooking," his dad mumbled.

"Well I like cooking," Marco told him. "And there are tons of male chefs, Dad. In fact *most* chefs are guys. You're too… black and white in your gender roles."

"And what's *yours*?" he asked, looking at Marco.

"What's my what, Dad? Gender role? I'm a boy. You should know that by now since I assume you changed at least one diaper."

"Just forget this. I don't want to talk about this. We heard from your cousin Antonella."

"Oh really? How is she?" he asked. "Antonella is my *favorite* cousin in Italy. She's like… four years older than me and whenever we would be there over the summers, she'd babysit me- or rather… I'd follow her wherever she went and all her friends would swoon over me because I talked with an accent and stuff. It was great- she's so awesome. You'll have to meet her," he told me.

"Why would Dylan want to meet your cousin?" his dad asked. "Anyway, she's pregnant."

"Oh wow! That's so great! I'll have to call her. When is she due?"

"Middle of the summer. We thought we'd take a few weeks and go- visit Nonna and everyone."

"That… that sounds great, Dad. Maybe… maybe if he's not doing summer hockey, Dylan could come," he said softly and his dad looked up.

"Why would he want to waste his summer in Italy with you? He should be chasing-"

"No, he shouldn't be chasing girls, Dad, because he's seeing someone. He's… practically engaged."

"Your parents must be so proud!" his dad grinned.

"They are, Mr. Del Rossi. They know I'm happy and I'm absolutely in love."

"That's so-"

"He's in love with *me*, Dad," Marco said softly. "He's… my boyfriend," he said a bit louder. "We've been together about a year, really."

"WHAT? Is this some sort of joke, Marco?! Invite us here for a dinner and-"

"It's not a joke, Dad. I didn't wanna keep lying, okay? Dylan's my boyfriend- maybe one day my husband. I love him. He loves me. We're… this isn't a joke. I just wanted you to know. I wanna… I want Dylan to come to Christmas Eve- for dinner and to Mass- to meet the family."

And that is when holy hell broke loose in the house. I tried to hold his hand but that only lasted about two seconds before him and his father were up on their feet, yelling at each other about family honor and disrespect and how cousin Lou shamed everyone because he's a homosexual and how he won't let Marco shame him or his mother in that way- not in front of the family. And Marco was yelling back about respecting his son and accepting who he is and I just sat there with his mom and she just stared at her plate.

"Do you… will they be okay?" I asked her quietly, once they moved into the den to scream.

"I hope so, Dylan," she said softly. "I… my husband is very… Italian," she laughed.

"Italian men are very hard headed," I told her.

"So you *do* know Marco," she laughed. "If only his father could see he's just like him- passionate and hard headed. Come- let's clear the table, okay, Dylan?"

And we did just that while they were still yelling- the same argument over and over.

"How can you not want to know me, Dad? Dylan is amazing and wonderful and he *loves* me."

"I don't want to hear this! It's disgusting, Marco! It's not how God intended it. A man and woman should marry and make babies. You disrespect me and the family and God as well."

Oh god- there were a lot of insults you could throw at Marco but telling him in any way that God didn't love him or accept him was probably more hurtful than him catching me kissing Eric.

Mrs. Del Rossi ran out of the kitchen to the den, which had gone silent. "Please…" she whispered and took her husband's hand, "please… stop this insanity. He's our son."

"And he'll always be our son, but not like this. Never like this. I won't allow you to shame me in front of the family, Marco," he said. "Not on Christmas. Not any day."

"Then I'll spend Christmas Eve with Dylan's family," he said, heartbroken.

With that, his dad turned to leave.

"Marco," his mom whispered, touching his arm.

His dad muttered something in Italian and they left quickly.

I immediately ran to Marco and caught him as his legs gave out and he just fell. "Baby," I whispered and he started crying. I'd never seen him cry so hard in his life but he started and it seemed like he'd never stop.

He cried so hard, he threw up and I held his hair back as he did. Then I held him on the floor of the bathroom in case he needed to puke again.

I didn't say anything that night. There was nothing I *could* say. I just needed him to know I was there and he wasn't as alone as he felt.

He fell asleep in my arms I think shortly after midnight and around one o'clock, I carried him up to bed and pulled a blanket over us. We slept in our clothes.

I felt him stir at some time in the early morning and I opened my eyes; he was staring at me. "Hey," I whispered.

"Hi," he answered back sadly- *so* sadly. I could feel his pain in his voice, see it in his beautiful once-bright eyes. "Kiss me?" he requested softly. "Kiss me and don't ever stop."

And that's what I did in the dark hours of early morning; I kissed him all over his entire body- from his lips and throat to each finger and each toe and everywhere in between. Then I made slow sweet love to him until he fell into a deep sated yet sorrowful sleep.

In the morning, I felt his hand caressing my abdomen and I opened my eyes to look into his. "I don't like you looking so sad, Sweet Marco," I said and brushed some hair out of his eyes.

"I can't help it. I… feel like my dad gave up on me. Like… he thinks I'm disgusting- not worthy of Christmas."

"He didn't mean it," I tried to defend him, but it was a weak defense. I couldn't see how anyone could not love the man in bed with me.

"I had a dream last night," he said as he laid his head on my chest.

"Yeah?"

"I dreamt that I was throwing up violently and couldn't think straight and a big strong blond warrior held me all night and carried me home- rescued me from misery. But… it wasn't a dream- it was my hero."

"Just doing my boyfriendly duties. I'll also hold your hair when you get drunk one night and are puking too. I'm a full service kind of guy."

"No, you're an amazing type of guy," he corrected me softly. "My hero, Dylan. Dylan the gorgeous Adonis slash Hercules type hero."

"Will that be what my tomb stone says?"

"If I get to pick the words yes, but I don't want you to die first. I couldn't handle being alone. You're much stronger than I am so I have to die first but… ya know- when we're much older and are arguing about whose teeth are whose."

I laughed. "Okay. You can die first, Marco."

"See? There you go being all heroic again," he sighed softly and kissed my chest.

After that, we simply stayed in bed- skin on skin, quiet and comforting. I held him against my chest and played with his hair all morning.

I'd never physically felt pain before- not emotional pain. I didn't think you could physically feel emotional pain until I held him that morning and felt the difference in his touch- like he was ashamed to like it so much- to like the touch of a man. I hated that his father could make him question the identity he fought so hard to have.

I'd never felt so much sympathy and rage all at once until I held Marco Del Rossi.

30

The next five days leading up to Christmas was hard on him- on both of us. I felt deep sadness in his touch, in his gaze… my beautiful and happy Marco had somehow disappeared and I didn't know how to help him. I even tried going to his dad one afternoon to beg him to reconsider- to call up Marco and invite us for Christmas. I told him we wouldn't say *any*thing about being together or being gay. I told him I would just be a friend from college who didn't have a place to go.

But his dad refused and said, "I will know. *I* will know what you're doing to my boy." Like it was *my* fault! Like I had turned Marco gay somehow. I couldn't stand to be there any longer, so I left. It was pointless.

I didn't tell Marco of my last ditch effort to save him the pain of missing Christmas with his family.

"I checked with my mom," I told him as he came back from his last final of the semester. "We're clear for Christmas morning. I told her we'd bring something for breakfast, like muffins or something."

"Okay," he nodded and fell onto the couch next to me.

"Baby," I whispered and wrapped my arms around him. "I wanna *help* you," I said. "I wanna… I don't know what I can do."

"I just need time to work through this, Dylan. You're… you're doing perfect, okay? I promise. You're amazing, Hercules."

"Stooop," I groaned and pushed him. I really hated when he called me that.

"Would you prefer Zeus? Adonis? Archimedes?"

"I really don't want you taking anymore mythology courses," I said.

"Yeah, but I know every single one of them now- all the Greek gods I can call you."

"I'm not a god," I insisted.

"Okay, Hero," he smirked and kissed me softly.

"I just want you to have a happy Christmas."

"I will. I… I will."

"I wanna snap you out of this but I don't know how to help the best."

"You're helping, okay? I promise you're helping just by being you."

"Okay," I nodded.

"I gotta… go out. I think I need something more for Paige for Christmas, okay?"

"Yeah," I said and after he left, I went about making plans for Christmas Eve for him. I wanted him to still have all the things he loved- family and food and church.

So I started making phone calls and got EVERYone to agree to come over Christmas Eve. Paige, Ellie, Spinner, Jimmy, Ashley, Alex, Craig (who was in town) everyone. Then I assigned them all a traditional Italian Christmas food that I pulled out of one of his cook books. I told everyone they were responsible to make what had been assigned. And then I told them all we'd be going to midnight Mass with Marco- to support him.

He had good friends because they all agreed very easily.

And by the time I heard him coming in the door, arrangements were made and I was sitting on the couch watching It's A Wonderful Life like it's what I'd been doing the entire time.

"Dylan?" he called out.

"In here, Babe." I turned to smile at him and was STUNNED. "Marco? What… I…"

"Do you like it?" he asked nervously as he ran his hands through his short hair.

"OH my god, what… I…"

"Do you?" he asked again.

I honestly had to say that I really loved the longer hair on him but… with the nose ring and the earring and the short and sort of… spikey-ish hair… it *really* worked for him.

"Because I… can't change it if you don't."

"No, I… *really* like it," I said as I stood up from the couch. "*Really*. I'm just… stunned. What… you didn't mention wanting a cut."

"No, but… I'm… I wanted… I needed a change." My sweet baby needed something to control, is what he meant to say. "I'm… trying to be symbolic here- purge myself of negative energy. That was the only thing I could think of short of like… cutting off a body part or something and I'm kind of fond of all of them."

"Some more than others," I grinned. "No- I… love it. I just… it's a change." I kissed him softly before running my fingers through it and brushing the bit on his forehead back. "So soft," I whispered. "I really… I like it a lot, Marco."

"Are you sure? You're not just being nice?"

"No- and I'll prove it- c'mon," I said, pulling him in front of our fire place. I grabbed a few pillows off the couch to make him comfortable and proceeded to show him exactly how much I loved the hair and him.

"So… should *I* go shorter?" I asked as the fire warmed our faces and our bodies were pressed intimately together as the blood slowly took me from his body. "Like I had it when we first met?"

"No," he said as he rubbed my arms that were around him. "No, Baby… I like the length on you. I didn't like it as much before."

"But maybe I should change it up a little… what do you think?"

"We could try another color," he suggested. "You wouldn't look good with black hair cause you're too pale."

"Not like you, Olive," I laughed.

"Okay, Hero," he quipped back. "So… are we going to your parents' tomorrow night? Since we're not going to mine?"

"No, I thought we'd stay here and just… have our first real Christmas Eve together."

"That sounds *perfect*, Dylan. And let me get back to you on the color- maybe you could go reddish- might look sexy."

"We can get a temporary dye and see how we like it."

"After Christmas hair dresser and stylist will be at your service," he informed me. "While I was out, Ellie called and said she needed me to go shopping with her tomorrow last minute, is that okay? If we don't start our night until like five or six?"

"That's fine," I smirked. Ellie didn't need anything- she was just the cover story to get him out of the house so we could set up. "I have some stuff I need to wrap anyway."

"Stuff for me?"

"Maybe, you sneak," I teased. "So… should we head up to bed?"

"No," he shook his head and leaned back against me. "I like it right here."

I tightened my grip around his torso and kissed his shoulder and neck gently. "Okay, we'll stay right here for now."

"Besides, I know my soon to be auburn hero will carry me upstairs when I'm asleep."

"Yes he will," I laughed softly against his beautiful skin. "He will indeed, Olive," I whispered.

I did carry him upstairs a while later and in the morning he seemed to be in a better mood than he had been since the dinner with his parents. We wrapped presents all day and ate food he'd made and yes- had sex three times. But it was the perfect day and he seemed pretty happy all day. Maybe the hair cut really had helped.

"Okay- I gotta go, Hon- with Ellie."

"Oh yeah, okay. Well I'm going to wrap *your* presents now so that's okay," I laughed. "And I'll see you later, Gorgeous?"

"Right," he smiled and as I watched him head off, I really had to admit his hair was *really* hot. I had truly believed the long hair would be the sexiest I'd ever see him, but the short hair made him like… so model like- *hot*. GQ hot.

As soon as I was sure he was off to meet Ellie, I called everyone because we had prep work. I wanted it to be really good for him so Spinner and Craig brought a big tree. Ashley and Jimmy stopped at his mom's for his presents from her and some food she made special for him. Alex helped me pop popcorn and get the things ready to make the garland that he always talked about. Paige and our parents got everyone's food heated and we had paper plates and wine and soda- we had EVERYthing. It was beautiful by the time I heard him and Ellie coming up the front porch.

"El, I really don't think we needed to spend three *hours* for you to get him some cheesy boxers."

"Well you got the Christmas present ones for Dylan," she laughed as they opened the door.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" we all yelled as he looked in to see us all.

"Oh my *god*!" he said, shocked. "What… is this?"

"Christmas Eve, Marco and Dylan style," I explained as I pulled him aside. "I… I know how important Christmas Eve stuff is to you, Marco. So… everyone pitched in. We're going to make the garland you talked about and everyone made Italian food out of your Christmas cookbook. And we've got tons to drink and games and we've all got really nice clothes to change into so we can go to Mass with you at midnight."

"Oh my god, are you *serious*?" he asked, tears coming to his eyes. "You… did this for me?"

"Yes. I wanted you to have your Christmas Eve."

"This… is really… awesome, Dylan. This is… the best present ever."

"And the *other* excellent present is between my legs," I laughed as I kissed him softly. "Merry Christmas, Olive."

And it was a merry Christmas. I'd never spent two days so in love and having so much fun with anyone before.

Just with Marco Del Rossi.