Hi there! :)

Well, first of all I better say that, as sad as it seems, I just got started watching Degrassi: The Next Generation this year when they replayed every episode over the summer. I fell in LOVE with the Marco and Dylan relationship. :) I think they're so cute together! :) Anyways, I just recently started writing my own fanfiction about them, and I wanted to post it here after I found this site. :) Unfortuntely, I'm not sure if anyone other than me actually visits this site anymore for Marco and Dylan since all the stories date back to (earliest) 2008. Two years ago! I'm crossing my fingers that people still do so they can give me some feed back! :) I'm only going to put up a chapter or two and if people respond (hopefully with good reviews) I'll keep posting :) But if no one does, I won't since there's no point to uploading more if no one's reading them, right?

So finally, to anyone that's reading this now, enjoy and please review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Degrassi :( Though I wish I did! Then I'd make more Marco and Dylan episodes :)

Rating may change in the future!


"Earth to Marco."

Marco del Rossi blinked, jolting out of a dazed daydream. His dark eyes focused on Dylan Michalchuk's amused ocean blue ones, before he blushed and looked down at his knees. It was Friday afternoon and they were having lunch at a small table in the far corner of the Dot Grill.

He had been thinking about the dream he had last night and many nights before, ever since he had started his relationship with Dylan. As enjoyable as their dates had been, the only dream Marco could have each night was the same, horrific one. It was all a jumble of flashes and screams, and as much as he tried to solve it, the moment he woke up it all started leaking from his memory like water in an open hand.

Dylan's eyebrows started to crease as Marco continued to stare down at his knees, cheeks still slightly pink. What is he thinking about? Dylan wondered, eyes fixated on the younger boy's averted gaze. Marco had this way of keeping important things to himself. Some days he would go into trances like this one and Dylan would end up staring at his ceiling late at night pondering what he was thinking about. It drove him crazy, but he supposed that was part of his charm.

The elder boy cocked his head to the side, smiling softly, and looked at Marco. He had no idea what made him fall head over heels for the younger boy in the first place, but he guessed part of it was due to how mind blowingly beautiful he was. Marco had this shiney, gorgeous dark hair that framed his tanned Italian face perfectly. His dark eyes had such unusual depth to them, like all his thoughts were locked away behind them that only he had access to. That's not to say Dylan hadn't tried, but whenever he did, those eyes would get a sparkle in them that would dance and tease, daring him to try and figure out the code. Dylan supposed the more time he spent with him the closer he would come to unlocking his secrets. And though he never admitted it, dark hair and dark eyes was always such a big turn on for Dylan. All he ever saw inside his house were blonde hair and blue eyed beauties, and seeing Marco stick out with his dark, mysertious manner, accompanied with his fragile stature made Dylan's heart do summersaults in his chest. Something he'd never experience in his life before meeting Marco del Rossi.

Marco continued to glance away, trying to gather his thoughts, but how could he? He didn't want to tell Dylan about his nightmare - it would make him seem like a little kid and he was young enough for him already. But he didn't want to lie to him. He could probably tell anyway, Marco thought disgusted; he was such an open book.

And it wasn't like they meant anything, they were just a figment of his imagination. Completely harmless. But never the less, they were disturbing from what little he could remember, and they had started to take a toll on his sleep. But he could deal with that later. Right now he had something, or rather someone more important.

Marco gave Dylan an apologetic smile and said, "Sorry I must've spaced out."

Dylan teased, "Am I really that dull?"

"N-no no! I'm just - just really tired, I didn't get much sleep last night," Marco panically rushed to get his words out. "I just kept tossing and turning and - " Marco's words were stopped short as Dylan leaned over the table and placed one finger over his lips.

"Shhh," he whispered, smiling. "Don't worry, it was just a joke." He was so cute when he over thought things.

Marco gave a small nervous smile, inwardly scolding himself for being so stupid. He could never get over the anxious and giddy buzz he got from just being in the same room as Dylan. The older boy was, by far, the most gorgeous thing Marco had ever seen. His eyes were just deep pools of crystal clear water. The way they twinkled whenever he did something mischievious made him melt on the inside, which he repremended himself for - it was such a girly thing to feel. Yet it didn't stop him from disolving all over again when he saw that angelic mound of hair on top of his head. Marco loved the way those curls - those beautiful, golden curls - bounced whenever Dylan threw his head back howling with laughter. And on top of that, the older boy had such a strong, capable looking physique. Like he could protect him from whatever and whoever the world could throw at him, and it drove him wild. He never got tired of looking at him.

"So," Dylan said as they walked through the doors and to the park after paying the check. He smiled impishly while giving Marco a questioning look. Uh oh. He knew that look, and it wasn't the one that made his knees go weak or his heart beat a thousand times a second. "What was my adorably over-anxious boyfriend daydreaming about?" He winked. "Nothing too bad I hope."

Marco blushed harder this time, loving the way Dylan called him his boyfriend. They hadn't been going out for too long, but every delicious second he spent with him was memorable and amazing.

"Nothing, really," Marco murmured, looking away.

Dylan stopped walking as they reached the park, checking to make sure they were alone, and placed two fingers under Marco's chin, lifting his eyes to meet his. Dylan knew how uncomfortable Marco was with touching while other people were around, as he had only recently became content with his sexuality. Though he still hadn't come out to his parents, something Dylan was trying to help Marco face. "Come on now," he coaxed, leaning down to give him a small, sweet kiss. Though Dylan and Marco both hid it, their minds whirled when their lips touched, causing them both to feel slightly dizzy.

Marco grinned, rolling his eyes. "Really Dylan I just spaced out, it happens a lot." He laughed, trying to be convincing about it. He was still light-headed from the kiss so it was hard to lie effectively. The younger boy knew he'd have to talk eventually, but just like the situation with his parents, he wasn't quite ready to confess yet.

Dylan loved how he could tell when Marco was lying, but not as much as the sound of his laugh. It was so sweet so...care-free.

He shook his head, but he decided to let it go for now. He didn't want to spoil their afternoon, so he just took Marco's hand as they continued their walk through the park, giggling, and savouring their time together.


"Marco, ragazzo mio, dove sei stato?(my boy, where've you been?)"Mr. del Rossi called from the kitchen, slightly angry as Marco entered the front door. And as usual, whenever Marco's father got angry, which was usually about missing a meal, or confused he spoke in Italian. "Abbiamo atteso per molto tempo!(We've been waiting for a long time!)"

Mrs. del Rossi gave Mr. del Rossi a stern look as Marco walked inside, gave his mom a kiss on the cheek and said, "Hey Pa."

Mr. del Rossi rolled his eyes at her and said more calmly, "Come, sit, dinner, it is ready."

He sat himself down, trying to hide his nerves. Marco felt like he was exposed. It was wrong, he knew, to feel guilty for liking Dylan, for liking men in general. He wasn't to blame for being the way he was. Everywhere else he was comfortable in his own skin, but around his parents, possibly the biggest homophobes alive, he felt like he was less than dirt in their eyes. Or he would be if they ever found out. As long as they thought he was straight, he was their golden boy. This was why, as he often tried to explain to Dylan, he couldn't come out to them. Marco was positive they would hate him, disown him most likely, and he couldn't disappoint them like that. He had spent all his life trying to live up to their expectations, trying to be better for them, and acknowledging that their only child, their "pride and joy," was something they despised could be too much for them.

"Marco!" his father shouted. Marco jumped, looking at his father surprisingly. "Yeah Pa?" "Ciò che è sbagliato con voi oggi Marco?(What is wrong with you today Marco?) I've been trying to get you're attention. You're so quiet today it's, ah, unsettling. Where is my talkative boy eh?"

Marco looked down at his plate before catching his father's eye, smiling, and said, "I'm just tired Pa, I didn't have a great sleep last night."

Mrs. del Rossi, looking a little worried, asked, "Why are you not sleeping Marco? Are you not feeling well?"

"No Ma," Marco said exasperately. "I'm fine, I just had one night of bad sleep, okay? It's no big deal." He smiled reassuringly, yet scared on the inside that they'd spontaneously see right through him. Maybe they already know Marco thought, terrified. And they're just waiting for the right moment to yell at me. He tried to push that thought out of his mind.

There was another long moment of awkward silence before Mr. del Rossi, fidgeting a little at their unusally quiet dinner table, said, "So, eh, Marco, how was school today?"

Marco glanced up from his plate, trying to act normal, and said, "Oh, you know Pa, it was just another ordinary day. I had a math test that I probably failed at," he laughed jokingly.

Mrs. del Rossi smiled, "Oh don't talk about such things, you are a very bright boy Marco, I bet you're at the top of your class!"

Marco laughed for real now. "Not likely Ma, as much as I wish I could never beat Tim at-"

"Tim?" Mr. del Rossi said his name like it was some awful plague. His father was still upset that Marco had let Tim stay at their house when he got kicked out of his home for being gay. "The homo? No no no, Marco, you must beat him, you cannot let this...this unnartural beast shame you like this?"

"Pa," Marco said, slightly bewildered. Shame? "It's just math class, it's not like we're in some big competition. Besides he's like a math genius, that's how he got to be in my math class even though he's younger than me."

Marco's father looked like he was about to say something else when Mrs. del Rossi said soothingly, "Dear, giusto lasciarlo andare(just let it go.)."

Mr. del Rossi continued to mutter under his breath, and Marco caught a few words like homo and shameful, before he decided he had to get out of there.

Carrying his dishes to the sink, he kissed his mom again on the cheek and practically fled to his bedroom. Once inside, he shut the door and leaned against it, eyes closed and breathing hard. He couldn't do this for much longer. Marco was tired of lying. Of pretending.

The phone rang, and he jumped before shakily picking it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Marco," Dylan greeted, smiling, not noticing the frightened tone in his boyfriend's voice. He flopped down on his bed, staring at his dark blue walls that were barely noticable under all his hockey memorabilia and posters."What're you doing tomorrow?"

"Oh n-n-nothing I d-don't th-think," Marco stuttered, still shook up.

"Are you okay?" Dylan asked, concern evident in his voice. Marco could just see his eyebrows knitting up in worry. Dylan always got overly concerned about Marco. If something wasn't quite right, he tried to do everything he could to make it better.

"Y-yeah I'm fine Dylan. It's just-" Marco sighed. Call him paranoid, but he was sure his father or mother would hear him if he uttered it over the phone.

"What Marco, what is it? Are you hurt?" Marco could hear Dylan stand up from his creaky bed. Dylan's hand was on his bedroom door, ready to go if Marco needed him.

"I can't say it over the phone, but c-can I tell you tomorrow? It-It's no big deal, really, but I think...I dunno if..." Marco stopped short and barely surpressed yet another sigh. It hurt Dylan to hear Marco so upset, so conflicted, and he wished he could make whatever it was go away.

Dylan shook his head slightly to clear it. "Do you want to talk about it? I could come pick you up..?" he trailed off suggestively. Marco glanced at the clock - it was far too late to go out.

"No, no, really Dylan it's fine, besides you need to rest up, you have a big game this week." Marco smiled.

Dylan laughed, he had almost completely forgotten about that! Weird. "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow del Rossi."

"Bye Dyl," and they hung up.

Lying on his bed, Dylan was wondering how he could've possibly forgotten about his game. This one decided whether they'd get into the playoffs for their devision or not, because this year the competition had been tough. Turning over to flop on his stomach, Dylan smiled and pointed the finger at one individual. Marco. When he was around him, as his younger sister Paige so thoughtfully pointed out, his brain was as good as fried. He couldn't think about anything else but him, and anything to do with him, when Marco was in the room. Which was both a good and bad thing.

Without meaning to, Dylan found himself pondering curiously about what had happened at dinner to make Marco sound so...shaken up. Did they find out? He had mixed feelings about that. The older boy wanted Marco's parents to know that he was their son's boyfriend, but Marco's parents were big homophobes, and Dylan didn't want to think about what the confrontation might be like, especially with him not there. And that would be when Marco was ready to tell them. If it was just an out of the blue thing...

No, no, Dylan shook his head. He was being ridiculous. Why on earth would the del Rossi's assume the "worst" about their son when he was obviously their pride and joy? He was just being paranoid. However, it wouldn't hurt to call him first thing tomorrow morning...The sooner he found out what was wrong, the better he'd feel. The elder boy hated not knowing what was going on. It made him feel helpless, and he couldn't afford to feel like that where Marco was concerned. He knew the younger boy looked up to him like some sort of protector, a role he whole-heartedly intended on full-filling, though he never actually said so out loud. It was just the way Marco looked at him sometimes. A look no one else could hope to imitate and make him feel the same way. Awe and trust would swirl through his big brown eyes, penetrating Dylan's whenever the older boy would come up with a solution to their problems. It made his heart do back flips; he felt so important then. He just wanted to hug Marco and kiss him whenever the younger boy looked at him like that.

God, Marco had no idea what kind of effect he had on him.

He grinned at the ceiling before switching off the lights, not bothering to change out of his clothes, and rolling over to fall asleep.


Reviews are very much appreciated!