Author: StrongatHeart

Title: Midnight Escapades

Summary: Well, there's Marco. And there's Dylan. And there's sneaking out in the middle of the night. And bedrooms. And fluff. Lots and lots of fluff. Like a ridiculous, so-much-it-will-make-you-sick-giant-marshmallow amount of fluff.

Warnings: Slash, and maybe adult-ish content?

Disclaimer: Don't own Degrassi, sadly. :(

A/N: Yeah, so I really don't know what this is all about. I always like doing those fics where there's kind of a recurring theme, so I guess this is sort of one of those. Even though it's mostly just pointless Darco fluff written at three in the morning, but that's not so bad, right? Lol.

The first time, Dylan had snuck into Marco's room.

It was a cold, September night, and Marco could not have been more surprised to see Dylan's face at his window at twelve o'clock in the morning.

He had been on his computer at the time, and he had nearly fallen out of his chair when he heard the light rapping sound of someone knocking at his window. Cautiously, he had crept over to it, and upon seeing his boyfriend's grinning face staring back at him, slid it open.

"Dylan, what are you doing here? It's the middle of the night!" he had demanded in a hushed whisper. The last thing he needed was for his parents to wake up and find him talking to his boyfriend outside his window. He couldn't really think of any good excuse that his parents would buy as to why his "friend" Dylan was here, nor could he afford to honestly answer any of the inevitable questions. No, it was best to avoid that situation altogether.

"I wanted to see you," said Dylan innocently, smiling sweetly at him, his big blue eyes twinkling. Marco rolled his eyes. Dylan knew full well he could get away with anything with that look. The Italian stood back to let the older boy inside.

"Get in here, it's freezing."

Dylan obliged, and Marco suddenly found himself wishing he'd listened to his mother earlier and cleaned his room.

"You're insane, you know that? You're crazy!" he accused, still whispering.

"I just wanted to see you," Dylan pouted.

Marco shook his head in exasperation. His boyfriend was the most infuriatingly lovable person he'd ever met. So of course, he didn't last long.

"Come here," he gave in, pulling Dylan down for a kiss. The older boy smiled and Marco's stomach did a triple somersault. That had never changed: Dylan's smile could still make Marco melt, even after all these months. It was a beautiful, infectious grin that Marco would never forget.

"You came all the way over here just to see me? You saw me today," Marco pointed out. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but if you're caught…"

"I won't be," promised Dylan. "What can I say? I can't get enough of you."

Marco rolled his eyes again and gave Dylan a peck on the cheek. It was extremely difficult to reason with his somewhat reckless boyfriend when he was being so irresistibly sweet and lovable.

"What if your parents see that you're not in your bed?" asked the younger boy, still trying to ignore the other boy's charm and hold on to some of his reason.

Dylan brushed a stray bit of hair out of Marco's eyes. There goes that idea. "Babe, relax. I know what I'm doing. I never get caught," he said proudly.

"So you've snuck out before?" Marco asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, no," Dylan admitted. "But that's why I've never gotten caught."

Marco shoved him playfully, shaking his head. "You're insane," he repeated. "You really are. You snuck out of your house and came all the way over here just to see me in the middle of the night? Just because?"

Dylan nodded, his mop of blonde curls bouncing. "Yep."

"You know…that… is really…" said Marco slowly, closing the gap between them a little more with each word. "…hot." At the last word, he kissed Dylan softly, relishing the flavor of his boyfriend. Dylan kissed him back eagerly, his hands moving instinctively to the small of the Italian's back, pulling him closer. Marco gently cupped either side of the older boy's face, which he didn't release even when he pulled back a moment later.

"Imagine my parents' faces if they walked in right now," he said quietly, thinking of them sleeping obliviously in the next room. Dylan winced, obviously picturing it.

"Yeah, that wouldn't be too good."

"Understatement of the year."

Marco couldn't help but notice the intensity with which Dylan was looking at him suddenly. It was as though he were being x-rayed. The blonde had always had the unique ability to look right through him, to see in him things that other people missed.

"What?" he stroked Dylan's cheek, and the older boy blinked.

"Huh?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?" asked Marco curiously.

"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking," Dylan mumbled.

"About what?"

"Just about…well, you haven't told your parents yet because you're afraid they'll hate you. I just don't see how anyone could. I mean, I love you. I don't get how anyone could feel any different," explained Dylan.

Marco stared up at him, hardly daring to breathe. If he did, he'd come back to reality, and he really did not want to do that right now. Now when everything was so perfect. Not when Dylan had just told him he loved him for the first time.

"Marco? Are you okay?"

Somehow, through his daze, Marco managed to nod. Then, without warning, his lips had found Dylan's and he was kissing him like he had never kissed him before. It wasn't shy or hesitant, soft or sweet, it was heated and passionate and fiery and real. Dylan was surprised…so surprised that it took him a moment to respond…but when he did, he returned every bit of Marco's fervent enthusiasm. When they finally broke apart for the annoying necessity that was air, both boys were in a dream-like state of awe.

"In case you didn't know, that means I love you too," said Marco when he'd finally caught his breath.

Dylan smiled, and Marco melted.

---

The second time, Marco had snuck into Dylan's room.

Right away, Dylan could tell something was wrong. Marco's chocolate-colored eyes were wide and tearful. He gazed up at Dylan, pleading and lost, and the blonde felt his heart break.

He moved automatically to Marco's side the second he'd crawled through the window.

"Marco, what's wrong? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"Dylan…" Marco took a deep, shuddering breath, grasping the other boy's arms for support.

"Dylan, I told my dad."

Realization dawned on Dylan, who immediately wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, holding him close and just offering the comfort he so obviously needed at the moment.

"Dyl, I don't know what to do." The older boy hated the crack in the other's voice. Hated the fact that his tears were now soaking his T-shirt. Tried not to hate the person responsible.

"It's okay," he whispered, rubbing Marco's back soothingly. "It'll be fine." He wasn't sure exactly how it would be, but it would. He would make sure of it.

"No, it won't. My dad knows. He's angry, Dyl. I've never seen him so angry…" Marco's voice trailed off in what was almost wonderment, and Dylan suddenly felt fear and protectiveness surge through him.

"He wouldn't, like…hurt you, would he?" he asked, swallowing hard. He throat was oddly constricted. The thought of someone hurting Marco made him feel sick. Sick and furious. He'd never understand how anyone could harm such a sweet, innocent, loving person like his boyfriend.

Marco just shook his head in response to Dylan's question. "I don't know. He's― he's never hit me before. But he's so mad…"

"Marco, is it even safe for you to be at your house right now?" asked Dylan, his grip on the younger boy tightening reflexively, as though he planned on physically restraining him in order to ensure that he didn't go back.

"I don't have much of a choice, do I? Where else do I have to go?" Marco shrugged helplessly.

"Here. You can stay here. With me." The words were out of his mouth before he'd even had time to think about them. No way was he letting Marco go back to what he'd run away from. Not when he had him right here, safe in his arms.

Marco looked up at him in surprise. "What?"

"Yeah. At least for tonight, please? So I know you're okay?" pleaded Dylan, his need to help the younger boy evident in the way he gazed at him steadily, his eyes all love and concern.

Marco considered this for a moment. "I don't know…what if they find out? They don't even know I'm gone."

"Well, don't they always leave before you get up in the mornings anyway? They'd never know if you weren't there," Dylan pointed out.

Marco bit his lip, obviously deep in thought. Then he nodded slowly. "Okay. That is true. But…you don't mind?"

"Of course not," Dylan assured him. "I― I want you to stay," he added softly.

Finally, Marco smiled. It was a small, watery thing, but it was a smile nonetheless. "Okay."

"Okay," Dylan repeated, relief overcoming him. "So, we should probably get some sleep. It's pretty late."

"Yeah. Sorry about that," said Marco, wincing slightly.

"Don't worry about it. So, sleeping…um, where do you want to sleep?" asked Dylan. His heart should not have been thumping nearly as fast as it was. Really, there was no reason for it.

"Honestly, Dyl…wherever you are," Marco said shyly, a blush creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks. He couldn't believe he'd actually said that. It was just that Dylan's presence was perpetually calming. If only he could be near him, that would be enough.

Dylan forced himself to breathe, wondering when it had become necessary to have to remind himself to do that. Seriously, his stupid heart was going to give itself an attack if it kept overworking itself like that.

"I mean, well― you're like this haven, Dylan. I feel like I'm safe with you, like it's okay. And…and I really need that right now," Marco explained, blushing even more fiercely.

Dylan nodded. It seemed all the energy in his body was being utilized by his racing heart, and none of it by his brain. Therefore, speech was quite out of the question at the moment. He gently kissed Marco on the forehead then separated himself from him to go and rummage in a dresser drawer. He pulled out a T-shirt and a pair of pajama pants and handed them to his boyfriend.

"Uh, they'll be kind of big, but they'll probably be more comfortable than those jeans," he said, thinking how much of a miracle it was that his leaden tongue had managed to get around the sentence.

Marco smiled and took them gratefully. "Thanks."

Dylan kept his back turned while Marco changed, and when he heard a small "finished," turned back around to see his already petite boyfriend looking even smaller than usual in a shirt and pants several sizes too large. Plus, Marco's raven-colored hair had been tousled a bit while changing his shirt, making him look extra-adorable. He couldn't suppress the grin that had crept onto his face at the sight. Marco glared at him, which only made him chuckle.

"I like the way you look in my shirt," he flirted approvingly. God, he's so sexy. He counted himself lucky that his brain had been working well enough at that point not to let him say that last part out loud.

"Do you?" Marco raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly, as though he knew what Dylan was thinking anyway.

Dylan closed the small distance between them and gave the younger boy a quick peck, unable to resist. "Yep. Very cute."

Marco smiled. "So, how about this sleeping thing? I'm exhausted."

"Oh, yeah…" Forcing his gaze away from Marco, Dylan turned instead to the bed and began straightening the covers. When they were suitable enough, he held them back and gestured for Marco to climb in. When he had, Dylan crossed around the foot of the bed and crawled in the other side. Reaching over to his bedside table, he flicked off the light.

They lay there, a few inches apart in the dark for a few silent minutes. Dylan wasn't sure exactly what kind of silence to call it…content, awkward…it was simply a silence.

"Dylan?" came Marco's hesitant whisper.

"Yeah?" Dylan whispered back.

"Thanks."

Dylan felt his breath catch in his throat when suddenly a warm sigh was ghosting his neck, the heat of a body was pressed against him, a hand was finding his in the darkness and curling around it…

His heart was doing that racing thing again.

----

The third time, there had been no sneaking around involved at all. Dylan had simply never left Marco's room.

"That's the fourth time you've looked at the door in the last ten minutes. What's up?" the blonde asked his jittery boyfriend, tenderly tucking a strand of dark curly hair behind the boy's ear. He was slightly out of breath, the result of one of their hot and steamy make-out sessions. Today, it was in Marco's room, on Marco's bed, and the fact that they were alone in Marco's house in Marco's room and Marco's bed had not gone unnoticed by Dylan. He had been trying for the last half an hour to keep rather inappropriate thoughts from crossing his mind, with little success.

"I just keep thinking my parents are going to walk in here any second and see…" Marco explained, glancing nervously at the door again.

"Babe, your parents are gone for the weekend," Dylan reminded him gently, twirling the strand of jet-black hair around his finger absentmindedly.

Marco let out a long, long breath. "I know. It's just that we had that really close call a couple weeks ago…if my dad hadn't sneezed right before he opened the door, we wouldn't have heard him. He would have seen us."

"Yeah, he would have had a heart attack if he'd seen me do this." Marco then had his breath taken away as Dylan leaned forward and gave him one of the most fiery kisses he'd ever received. When it ended, Marco laughed softly.

"He would have collapsed on the spot."

"And this…"

The younger boy raised his eyebrows in shock as the blonde kissed him again. It was different, somehow, than their other kisses. Hungry, lustful…as though Dylan was trying to consume him. Marco decided becoming one with Dylan didn't sound like such a bad idea at all.

Finally, they broke for air.

"Yeah, that would have made him pass out, wake up, go into cardiac arrest, die, be reincarnated, and then promptly have a seizure," said Marco. The hand that wasn't clenched in Dylan's hair had fisted itself in the blankets of his bed. He looked as though he were steeling himself to say something. Dylan, as always, picked up on this almost immediately.

"What's up?"

Marco hesitated, then blurted out the question that was obviously weighing on his mind. "Have you ever thought about…sex?"

Dylan nearly fell off the bed. "What?"

"Sex," Marco repeated.

"What about it?" asked Dylan uncertainly. Of course he'd thought about it. What teenager hadn't? He wasn't quite sure where this discussion was going; however, he was rather keen to find out.

Marco was blushing more intensely than Dylan had ever seen him blush, but he kept eye contact when he spoke.

"I mean― have you ever thought about us…you know…" he said with a pointed look.

"Oh, uh…I don't know…have you?" asked Dylan.

Marco shrugged, fingering his bedspread uneasily and now averting his eyes. "Well, lately, yeah."

Dylan nodded slowly, feeling a bit safer admitting it now that Marco had. "Yeah, I guess I have too."

"Do you― you know― want to?" Marco asked, his face now the color of the crimson sunset visible from the window.

"Do you?" Dylan asked.

"I asked you first," Marco replied.

"I asked you second."

"So?"

"So."

"So what?"

Dylan stopped when he realized that he wasn't going to win this argument. He leaned forward and pressed his lips tenderly to Marco's. It was their first kiss all over again. Gentle and innocent and everything that a kiss was supposed to be.

"I want to do―" said Dylan slowly, smoothing his boyfriend's hair back from his face, which he cupped gently with his hands. "What you want to do."

Marco considered this for a moment. "I…I want― I mean, I'm―"

"Marco," Dylan interrupted softly. "Look, I never want you to feel like I'm pushing you further than you're ready to go. And if you want to wait…I'm perfectly fine with that. More than fine. Whatever you want…I love you, Marco."

"No, Dyl, you're not getting it…I am ready. I…I want to," said Marco certainly. Dylan searched his eyes, considering him.

"You're not just saying this…"

"No," Marco assured him. "I mean it, really. I want to― with you, Dylan. If― if you do, I mean―"

Dylan cut him off with a kiss, closing his eyes and letting his lips linger on the Italian's for a moment before pulling back. Gently touching their foreheads together, he opened his eyes at the same moment Marco did. Chocolate met cerulean and the love and mutual respect they had for each other was evident. They leaned in for another hungry kiss, and as it slowly grew more passionate, Marco could feel Dylan's hand hesitantly toying with the hem of his shirt. Smiling into their kiss, Marco took both Dylan's hands in his and pulled them around him, slipping them under the bottom edge of his shirt to rest on his bare waist. Dylan slowly slid them further up Marco's body, sending goose bumps crawling up the Italian's skin. Dylan knew for a fact that he wasn't getting nearly enough oxygen to his brain. Not only was he breathless from kissing, but feeling Marco's skin get goose-bumpy under his fingers, at his touch, was robbing his lungs of any remaining air. This was Marco he was kissing. This was Marco, who had just given him permission to do basically whatever he wanted.

Marco, lost in their kiss, didn't realize at first that Dylan had lowered him to the bed, and was now nearly on top of him. Not that he minded. He reached up and pulled the blonde closer, wanting to feel Dylan on every inch of his skin. The older boy had now left his lips and was kissing his neck gently, lovingly. Meanwhile, Marco was busy exploring Dylan's body. He ran his hands through his boyfriend's curls, over his shoulders, over every muscle down his back to his…

"Mmm." Dylan moaned, and pressed himself further into his boyfriend. Marco thought he might explode from all the extraordinary sensations he was feeling, both physical and emotional. It felt as though time had stopped, the world had dissolved around them; they were all that was left on the earth. Dylan could not get enough of Marco, of the boy who was making his head spin. Cautiously, as if afraid Marco would suddenly jump up and start yelling at him, he slipped his boyfriend's shirt up and over his head, taking in the delightful sight before him.

"Yours too," the Italian muttered almost inaudibly. Dylan obediently removed his own shirt, tossing it carelessly somewhere over the side of the bed. He watched as Marco almost greedily drank in the sight of him. Dylan only gave him a moment, however, before he bent to press another kiss to the Italian's full, pink lips. He slowly trailed a line of kisses starting from his boyfriend's lips to his neck, over his collarbone down to his nipple, relishing the flavor of Marco Del Rossi. The raven-haired boy's hands rested on the other's shoulders, gripping them tightly as if the blonde's body was all that was holding him there in that moment. Dylan peppered Marco's chest and collarbone with kisses. The Italian closed his eyes, simply feeling his boyfriend's lips on his naked skin, feeling their bodies pressed together like a single bound entity. He ran his fingers through Dylan's curls before gently pulling him up for another kiss. Dylan silently thanked the French for their style of kissing as his tongue slid against Marco's. Never breaking their kiss, the Italian let his hands slide up Dylan's arms to circle around his shoulders and pull him closer.

Dylan let himself be pulled down on top of Marco. He liked this, holding his Marco tightly, with the other boy clinging back. He was all too happy to be the one the Italian wanted to hold on to, to feel around him. Dylan would gladly give the younger boy anything he needed from him.

Marco almost froze when he felt Dylan tug at the waistband of his jeans. He could hardly believe this was really happening. He was actually on his bed, alone in his house, with the boyfriend he loved so much on top of him, about to have sex for the first time. He wasn't sure what made him do it, but next second he had reached up and toyed the button loose on Dylan's jeans. The blonde let him slide them down off his hips before stopping him in his efforts to remove them completely. Marco was about to ask what was wrong, when he felt Dylan struggling to unbutton his jeans and relaxed, then immediately tensed up again when the blonde succeeded in loosening them and pulling them down. Marco blushed again, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious, even though he still had his boxers on.

Dylan sat up, straddling Marco's waist, and looked at him seriously. "Are you sure about this?"

Marco nodded. He definitely wanted this. He was more than ready. "Yeah, I'm sure. Are you?"

Dylan smiled, and Marco noticed his eyes dart downward before quickly fixing themselves back on his face. "Positive." Marco grinned and pulled his boyfriend down on top of him again.

It was better than either had ever imagined it would be. Slow and passionate, it was, in a word, perfect. Marco awoke the next morning with Dylan's arms still around him, and he smiled. What a wonderful way to wake up. He might actually start enjoying the morning if he got to start it off like this every day. He pulled himself closer to his boyfriend and rested his head on the blonde's chest, wrapping his arms securely around Dylan's middle and closing his eyes. The rise and fall of Dylan's chest as he breathed was like the gentle rocking of a boat: calm and soothing. He was perfectly content to just lay here like this with him all morning.

About ten minutes later, he felt Dylan start to stir. The blonde blinked and looked down at his boyfriend in obvious surprise, then, seemingly remembering where he was and what had happened the night before, he smiled.

"Morning, sunshine. Sleep well?" he asked, shifting a bit under Marco to get more comfortable.

"Like a baby, baby," Marco replied, opening his eyes. He sat up a bit and rolled over, so that he was laying directly on top of Dylan. He tucked one of his boyfriend's disheveled blonde curls behind his ear.

"So…last night…that really happened, right?" Dylan asked. He sincerely hoped that it had, but he wasn't ruling out the possibility that the lovemaking had all been a dream, and that he'd simply fallen asleep in Marco's bed or something.

In response, Marco turned and lifted the blanket that was covering them both aside.

Dylan was fairly certain he hadn't fallen asleep in Marco's bed completely naked, though. The older boy sighed contentedly and let his eyes drift shut as Marco laid his head back down and nuzzled his neck. Dylan wrapped his arms around the Italian's back and just held him.

"Dylan?" said Marco softly after a few silent minutes had passed.

"Yeah?" Dylan opened his eyes and looked down at him. Marco had lifted his head and was staring back at him with sincerity in his eyes. Dylan's heart could have shattered at that look. It was so trusting, so loving, so innocent that he wanted nothing more than to lay here and hold on to his boyfriend forever, protecting and loving him with everything he had.

"I love you." Never had the three words carried such a great meaning. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," he replied. "You mean everything to me, Marco."

Marco, from his place on top of Dylan's chest, pressed a kiss to it, right above his heart. And at that second, Marco didn't care that he hadn't even touched his homework, which was due the next day, and Dylan didn't care that his parents were going to kill him for staying out all night. It was worth it just for moments like those.

-----------------------

A/N: Just so no one says it doesn't make sense, in the second bit, Marco only told his dad he was gay, not that Dylan was his boyfriend. So in the third part, his dad still didn't know about Dylan, and that's why Marco was paranoid about it. When I first realized I was having him go from having told his dad to being afraid of being found out, I thought I was screwed. So that's my solution. Also, I know I really need to update my other fic, but I finished this and wanted to post it. Hope it didn't completely suck. Let me know with a review. Come on. You know you want to. ;)