Title: Plan, Interrupted
Author: StrongatHeart
Summary: Marco and Dylan just want to have a quiet night alone. Now if only everyone would leave them in peace.
Warnings: Slash, so if that bothers you, don't read.
Disclaimer: Would love to own Degrassi, but I don't. I just watch every episode a few dozen times each and irritate everyone I know by talking about it non-stop.
A/N: This is kind of ridiculous in parts, not my best. And it's probably not very true to cannon, either. I was bored, it was four in the morning, and this idea was nagging at me, so that's the excuse for its existence. Hope you enjoy it anyway, lol.
"Two minutes, fifty-eight seconds…two minutes, fifty-seven seconds…two minutes…"
"All right, all right, I get it. I'm going," Ellie rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag from a kitchen chair and a jacket from the coat rack just inside the front door.
"Move it along, Ms. Nash. You said you'd be out of here by eight o'clock sharp, and it's now seven fifty-eight and nine seconds," Dylan glanced up at her, then quickly back down at his watch again.
"Aw, be nice, Dylan. You're going to make Ellie think she's not wanted here," joked Marco, joining them and sliding an arm around his boyfriend's waist.
"Well, that's the idea," replied Dylan good-naturedly.
Ellie sighed and rolled her eyes again. "All right. I'm gone. Bye. Have fun."
"Oh, we will," promised Dylan, a mischievious gleam in his eye as he turned and nuzzled Marco's neck, making the younger boy giggle and roll his eyes.
"I have got to find some place else to live. Preferably a place without all the so-madly-in-love-it's-sick PDA's," grumbled Ellie, stepping out into the cool night air and pulling the door shut behind her.
The moment Ellie was gone, Dylan turned and scooped Marco into his arms. The younger boy laughed as his boyfriend carried him to the living room, where he was dropped unceremoniously on the couch.
"I'm surprised you can lift me," he said, grinning up at Dylan.
"Are you saying I'm weak?" asked the blonde, mock pouting.
"Of course not. But I know I've gained weight lately…the Freshman Fifteen-Dozen," Marco sighed.
"Oh, you have not. You're skin and bones, Marco. If you put on my hockey gear, we'd have to send a search team to find you under it," Dylan reassured him, flopping down on the couch next to his boyfriend.
"So now I've got no muscles?" Marco accused.
"I didn't say that," Dylan said quickly. "I just meant, um…" he desperately racked his brains for something to say that wouldn't upset the Italian. "Marco, you're beautiful, just the way you are. Don't change a thing. Okay?" he said hopefully.
Marco grinned. "Relax, I'm just kidding. Paige is the one you need to worry about upsetting with the body-image comments. Last week I asked her if she wanted a donut and she went ballistic. She said I was rubbing it in her face that she couldn't eat it since she started her new diet," he rolled his eyes. "All I did was ask her if she wanted a donut, and I nearly lost my head."
"And it's such an adorable head," Dylan teased, leaning over to kiss Marco squarely on the lips.
"You think so?"
"Mm-hmm…" Dylan brushed Marco's lips again, his hand coming up to rest on the side of his neck. The younger boy responded eagerly, gently parting his boyfriend's lips with his own. The blonde's free hand had slipped under the Italian's shirt and was now making it's way slowly upward. Marco melted into Dylan's well-toned body, lost in the passionate sensation. He felt the world fall away, leaving only he and Dylan behind. Love and contentment flowed freely throughout the two men, encompassing them both in its intoxicating depths.
"So where's the party― oh!"
Dylan jumped and toppled off Marco onto the floor.
"Paige― what are you doing here?" the blonde demanded, somewhat annoyed. Even in his own house his little sister had no respect for his privacy. It was almost like they were kids again and Paige had just thrown open his bedroom door during some inopportune moment. He briefly considered simply yelling at her to get out, as he had always done when they were younger, but resigned himself to the fact that, as an adult, he should probably behave like one.
"Sorry, we didn't mean to interrupt! Spinner and I were in the neighborhood, and we thought we'd stop by," Paige explained. For the first time Dylan noted that Spinner was indeed standing beside her, awkwardly avoiding everyone's eyes, looking extremely uncomfortable.
"Well, you couldn't have picked a better time," said Dylan sarcastically, picking himself up off the ground.
"We can just go, if you…"
"No, no, it's fine. You can stay," Dylan rolled his eyes and sighed. Little sisters. Can't live with them, can't tell them your address…he thought bitterly.
"Great! So what are we watching?" demanded Paige eagerly, coming to sit down on the couch beside Dylan. Spinner sat down on her other side, still looking awkward.
"Er― watching?" repeated Marco.
"Yeah, what movie?" explained Paige, looking expectantly from Dylan to Marco and back.
"Oh, yeah, movie. Right. Uh, why don't you pick something?" suggested the elder Michalchuck.
"No chick flicks!" said Spinner, looking fearful, as Paige hurried over to the shelf where the movies were kept.
Paige rolled her eyes and set several of the videos aside. "How about this one? Looks like nothing but pointless violence and people getting their heads ripped off," she grimaced.
"Sounds awesome. Put it in. Hey, do you guys have any popcorn?" asked Spinner.
Marco gestured in the general direction of the kitchen. "I don't know. It was Ellie's turn to do the shopping this week. If we do, it's in the pantry, second shelf from the bottom on the right."
"Excellent!"
Five minutes later, they were all seated around the TV: Marco and Dylan on the couch, Paige, Spinner, and Spinner's bowl of popcorn on the floor. Spinner had one arm around Paige, who shrieked and covered her eyes at the slightest trace of blood or flying limbs on the screen, making her boyfriend wince. And, being the kind of movie that Spinner enjoyed, blood and flying limbs were a pretty common occurrence.
Marco glared at them both from his place on the couch. This was not exactly how he wanted to spend his evening alone with Dylan. He had really been looking forward to spending it…well, alone with Dylan. And now that didn't seem likely to happen anytime soon. He loved his friends, he really did, but sometimes he really just wished they'd disappear off the face of the Earth. Was that so wrong?
He shifted a bit, trying to get more comfortable. His head rose and fell along with the steady rise of Dylan's chest, which he was currently using as a pillow. His boyfriend had lost interest and fallen asleep just ten minutes into the movie. Marco would have too, if it weren't for Paige's ill-timed shrieks jerking him awake whenever he had almost completely drifted off.
"Hey, we're out of popcorn," said Spinner suddenly.
"I'll get more!" volunteered Marco quickly. He wriggled out of Dylan's arms and slid off the couch. Spinner handed him the popcorn bowl, his eyes never leaving the screen, where a man's arm was now being quite crudely and, by the looks of it, painfully, separated from the rest of his body.
"Hey, Dylan, you want to give me a hand?" Marco addressed his sleeping boyfriend. "Dylan!"
"Shh!" Spinner hissed.
Marco lowered his voice, but did not abandon his attempts to wake the hockey player.
"Dylan, get up!" he whispered. Irritated, he picked an exceptionally large kernel from the bottom of the bowl he was holding, took aim, and chucked it ― hard ― at Dylan's forehead.
The blonde blinked confusedly, reaching up to feel his forehead.
"Dylan, you want to give me hand with the popcorn?" repeated Marco with a pointed stare.
"Why do you need help with the ― oh! Yeah, I'm coming!" Scrambling over the couch, Paige, and Spinner, and ignoring their angry outbursts as he stepped on several fingers and toes, he hurried after his boyfriend.
Marco was waiting for him when he slid into the kitchen a moment later.
"Do you still need help with that popcorn, babe?" joked Dylan.
"Spinner can go without food for five minutes, it's not going to kill him. And even if it does, it's his own fault for coming here tonight in the first place," said Marco irritably.
"Agreed."
"So, enjoying the movie?" asked Marco, his fingers tracing paths up Dylan's arms as he slid his arms up and around his shoulders.
"Yeah…what are we watching again?" asked Dylan, furrowing his brow.
"I don't know, I think it's about some guy wanting to tear everyone's limbs off," replied Marco.
"Well, I guess it gave me time for that nap I've been needing all day, if nothing else."
"Dylan?"
"Yeah?"
"I've waited long enough…just get down here and kiss me, will you?" said Marco, grinning.
Dylan smiled and obliged. "With pleasure."
"What is taking so long with that popcorn?" demanded Spinner, rolling his eyes as Paige gave a little scream that she quickly muffled with her hand as, on the screen, a man's head rolled across the pavement.
"I'll be right back, Honeybee. I'm just going to go see what's up." He wasn't entirely sure that Paige heard him, but she didn't say anything as he slowly disentangled their bodies and stood up. Really, when did two people and fifteen minutes become necessary to make a bowl of popcorn?
"Are you guys popping one kernel at a time, or ― ugh!" Spinner hastily backed out of the room, looking disgusted. He really hadn't needed to see that. He had long since came to terms with the whole gay thing, but that didn't mean that he wanted to walk in on a full-on guy make-out session.
"Oh ― Spinner…" Marco quickly separated himself from Dylan ― a feat that appeared difficult, at best ― and poked his head out the doorway.
"I thought you were making more popcorn!" said Spinner.
"Well, we were going to…eventually," replied Marco sheepishly.
"Forget it, I'll get it myself," grumbled Spinner, striding past them and snatching the bowl off the counter where it had been abandoned.
"Don't bother, Honeybee, the movie's done," called Paige from the living room, scrambling for the remote and pressing fast forward. She'd had enough overly graphic murders for one night.
"So now what are we going to do?" Spinner asked.
Marco elbowed Dylan in the ribs as he opened his mouth to reply.
"I know! Let's play a game," suggested Paige, who had appeared in the doorway.
"A game?" repeated Spinner. "No, I don't do games."
"Oh, come on, hun, it'll be fun!" promised his girlfriend. "So what games do you guys have?"
"I am not playing a game!" said Spinner firmly.
Ten minutes later, Marco, Dylan, Paige, Spinner, and Spinner's bag of chips were grouped around the table, a board game spread out in front of them. The three men in the group were all notably disgruntled, for their own reasons. Paige, however, paid them no attention.
"Our turn, Honeybee," she said cheerfully, tossing the dice over the board. She moved the cherry colored miniature convertible piece, in which two tiny pegs occupied the front seats, seven spaces ahead and drew a card from a pile on her right. She skimmed it over quickly, then addressed Marco and Dylan.
"Okay, guys: what's something about the other that no one else knows?" she asked.
"Dylan wears pink underwear," said Marco dully.
"Marco has a routine for brushing his teeth: left on the bottom, right on the bottom, left on top, right on top, front and center, backs, tongue, rinse," said Dylan.
Spinner snorted.
"Shut up," said Marco bitterly.
"Dude, who has a routine for brushing their teeth?" Spinner laughed.
"I said shut up!"
Spinner just laughed harder.
"Would you like me to close your mouth for you?" asked Dylan in mock sweetness, coming to his now seething boyfriend's defense.
"Well, that's real intimidating, coming from a guy who wears pink underwear!" Spinner gasped. There were tears in his eyes now.
"Guys, can we please just play the game? Your turn," said Paige, dropping the dice into Marco's hand. The Italian let the dice fall back to the table, ignoring his friend's continued snickering. Letting Dylan nudge their metallic blue Mercedes three spaces ahead, he slid a card from the top of the pile.
"What's something about the other that annoys you?"
"Well, I'd have to say, Spinner's horrible taste in movies. What is so great about gruesome murders?" Paige answered. She paused, then glanced at Spinner. "Spin, hun, aren't you going to answer?"
"Huh?" asked Spinner.
"The question. What about me bugs you?" asked Paige.
"Nothing, Honeybee, you're perfect," said Spinner in an expressionless voice.
"Spin, you have to answer. Come on, there's got to be something," Paige prompted.
"Um…well, the way you say 'hun' all the time. It gets kind of irritating," said Spinner.
Paige scoffed. "Oh, so my lingo annoys you?" she demanded.
"What? Wait, no, that's not what I meant! I lied! You said I had to say something!" Spinner said quickly.
"Well, hun, since I annoy you so much, maybe we shouldn't be in the same room right now! Or even the same house! In fact, why don't we both just go home? I'll see you both later," she said, standing up and nodding at Marco and Dylan.
"Paige!" called Spinner desperately, but she ignored him.
"What the hell is her problem?" he asked uncomprehendingly.
"She's Paige, that's the problem," said Dylan, wincing at what sounded like a piece of heavy furniture being upended in the next room.
"Has she always been like that?" asked Spinner.
"No. She was an angel until she could talk," Dylan answered. Unfortunately for him, Paige had chosen that moment to reenter the room, and upon hearing his comment, promptly smacked him on the side of the head with her purse, which she had retrieved from the living room.
"Ow! Paige!" he said angrily.
"I want to go home, Spinner. So either you take me, or I'll―"
"No, no, I'll take you," said Spinner immediately, remembering with a pang what had happened the last time she had gotten behind the wheel of his car.
"Gotta go," he said apologetically, getting to his feet and accompanying Paige out the door.
As soon as the door had slammed shut, Marco sighed. "Finally, we're alone! Three hours later! Ellie's going to be home soon."
"Exactly, so, uh, what are we still doing an entire foot apart?" asked Dylan, his forehead scrunched as though he was pondering some great mystery of the world.
"That's a very good question, actually," said Marco.
Finally, they were completely free to do whatever they liked…no roommates, no irritating friends, no annoying little sisters…
The phone rang.
Their faces an inch apart, both men sighed. Marco gave a little moan and dropped his head onto Dylan's shoulder in misery as his boyfriend snatched the cordless from the counter behind him.
"Hello, Del Rossi-Michalchuck-Nash residence."
"Hello, Dylan Michalchuk? This is Marco's father. May I speak to him please?" requested the heavily accented voice on the other end.
"Of course, Mr. Del Rossi. Here he is," said Dylan, handing the phone to Marco, who tried not to groan again. Of all the times his father could have chosen to call, he had to choose now? What was so important that it couldn't wait one more day?
"Dad?" he said hesitantly.
"Marco, hi!" said Mr. Del Rossi. "How you been?"
"Uh…fine. What's going on?" asked the younger Del Rossi, hoping to get to the point of the phone call quickly.
"Oh, nothing much here. Same as always. How about you, though? What are you up to?"
"Um…uh… nothing. I mean, school…and…stuff," said Marco feebly.
"Keeping your marks up, eh? Good boy," said Mr. Del Rossi, and Marco knew he was smiling.
"Yeah, thanks. So, everything's all right, then?" asked Marco, rather impatiently.
"Everything's fine. I wanted to talk to you about getting together for the holiday."
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, maybe…we could. It would be nice," Marco said, trying to inject as much sincerity into his words as possible. He had been hoping to spend the holiday with Dylan this year, though he couldn't exactly tell his father that.
"Maybe your mother and I could come over to your place?" suggested Mr. Del Rossi.
Well. That solved that particular problem. Introduced several new ones, but solved that one.
"Yeah, sounds great. Next week then. You'll never have a finer meal," promised Marco.
"Great! Next week it is then. Hang on…" there was a pause, followed by some indecipherable muttering in the background, then Mr. Del Rossi said clearly, "Marco, can I call you back? There's been a small―"
"Okay-then-love-you-Dad-bye!" said Marco, and hung up. Tonight was not going as planned.
"Okay, now we're alone, and interruption free," he said, turning to Dylan. "My Dad just totally destroyed the mood, but we're alone and interruption free. Remind me to disconnect the phone next time we want an evening by ourselves."
Rap, rap, rap.
"What was that?" asked Dylan, glancing around for the source of the noise.
Rap, rap, rap.
"I think someone's at the door," said Marco.
"Isn't it kind of late?"
Marco nodded. "We could just ignore them," he said hopefully.
Rap, rap, rap.
Dylan shook his head. "That knocking's going to get to me." He stood and went to answer the door. When he saw through the tiny rectangular window who it was standing on the porch outside, he scowled.
"What do you want?" he demanded rather rudely, pulling open the door. These people had already ruined half his evening. He wasn't about to be nice. He didn't care what relations they shared.
"Um, they kind of need to search your house," said Paige weakly. She looked quite petrified, something that Dylan had only the slightest sympathy for at the moment. Spinner stood next to her, looking equally terrified. It was then that Dylan realized they weren't alone.
"Officers? Is there a problem? What did they do?" he addressed to two police officers standing on either side of his sister and her beau, half immersed in shadows.
"We received a tip that some stolen merchandise was being delivered from a car matching the description of the vehicle these two were driving to an address in this neighborhood. Do you mind if we take a quick look around?" asked the female officer on Spinner's left side, pulling out her badge. The other officer beside Paige imitated her, flashing his own badge. In the glow of the porch light, Dylan could just make out some of the larger markings.
"Um, no. Come on in," he said, careful to hide his irritability as he pulled the door open further to allow them entry. This additional interruption did nothing to improve his attitude, but he figured it would look suspicious if he refused them.
Gesturing for Paige and Spinner to enter ahead of them, the two officers stepped inside. Marco had come to see what was going on and, upon seeing the officers, an expression much like the type his two friends were wearing flitted across his face.
"What's happening?" he asked, alarmed, looking from Dylan to Paige to Spinner and back.
"We're just following up on a tip we received. You all can wait in the living room," said the female officer.
Marco, Dylan, Paige, and Spinner all herded into the living room as they'd been told, waiting in silence as the officers conducted their search. Spinner was trying to reassure Paige, who he seemed to have made up with. Both huddled together in one chair. Marco and Dylan sat on the couch, Marco again employing Dylan as a human pillow; The hockey player had to be the most comfortable he had ever had.
After about fifteen minutes, the officers joined them in the living room. "All clear. We apologize for the mistake. Thank you all for your time and cooperation." Nodding once at the group of teenagers assembled in the living room, both uniformed officers left them in peace. Only once they heard the door slam did the group release its collective breath.
"Well, that was fun," said Paige.
"See? I told you we had nothing to worry about," said Spinner.
"Hun, when two cops pull you over and ask you to step out of the car, search it, interrogate you, then come back to search the house you just left, it tends to make people, like me, for instance, a little nervous."
"Why? We didn't do anything wrong," said Spinner reasonably.
"Like that matters. What matters is what they think we did," Paige said. "Anyway, I'm glad that's over."
"How far did you guys get, anyway?" asked Marco curiously.
"To the end of the street," answered Spinner.
"That's it?"
"Yeah. Well, we'd better try this again. It's getting kind of late." Paige and Spinner stood. Marco and Dylan made to stand too, but the other two waved them down.
"Just sit. We can show ourselves out," said Spinner.
"Yeah, we haven't forgotten where the door is…well, I haven't, at least…we'll see you guys later!" Paige gave them a cheery wave and followed Spinner.
And for the fourth time that night, the door was pulled closed and locked with a satisfying click.
"Dylan? Are you awake?" asked Marco, his own voice rather thick with exhaustion. When had he gotten so tired? His eyelids were unusually heavy, so he allowed them to drift shut, the warmth of Dylan's body acting like a blanket.
"No, are you?" came the sleepy reply.
"Nu-uh."
Neither moved.
Ellie slid from the driver's seat, slammed the car door shut, and strode up the driveway. She fumbled with the key for a moment before locating the keyhole and turning the lock. She draped her coat over the hook just inside the door, and deposited her bag on a kitchen chair. Then she made her way to the living room: A marathon of her favorite show was scheduled tonight, and she'd been planning on enjoying a few hours of it.
She came to an abrupt halt at the sight on the couch.
Dylan lay with one arm around Marco, who held it tightly to his body as though it were an anchor that he would drift away without. Dylan's other arm had become Marco's headrest. The blonde looked quite content with his face buried in the crook of the Italian's neck. The most adorable part was that both were fast asleep.
Ellie was torn between the urge to give a great "aww," and roll her eyes and pull the both of them from sleep's entrancing depths right now and order them out of the room so that she could watch her marathon. As much as she wanted to watch it, however, she didn't quite have the heart to wake them. They just looked so sweet and at peace.
Nevertheless, that wasn't enough to keep the scowl off her face. She hated it when her plans were ruined. Sighing, she turned to go upstairs. They were lucky they made such an adorable couple.
END