Um, I wrote this eons ago...and I had meant to lengthen it quite a bit and never got around to it...and it just sat in my lj collecting dust. It finally erked me enough to just post it anyway. I know it's only five hundred words...but hey. It was just a feel good thing.

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

Ti amo

Marco taught Dylan a great many things. From improv cooking lessons to teaching how not to clash colors in five minutes as he scrambled to get ready for his classes.

It was something Dylan loved and absolutely loathed about Marco. Mostly it irritated him beyond belief because the younger man was so annoyingly spontaneous. Dylan would make an offhand comment about wishing he could do something, and if Marco knew how, he'd jump up, seize his arm, and drag him off for an impromptu learning session.

Then later, usually at night when Dylan lay awake watching Marco sleep, he'd appreciate it. He really did love to learn things, and this boy had always been an excellent teacher.

But most of all, it was that sparkle in his eyes when he jumped up, preparing to drag Dylan off somewhere. That certain light, loving tone in his laugh when Dylan made a silly mistake. That look of pride when Marco hugged him because he had succeeded. That in itself was worth it all.

One night, Marco had been cuddling with him, watching Lord of the Rings for the thousandth time, and the phone had rang. Marco, spontaneous and energetic as always, was the one to leap up and answer it.

It had been his father, and Dylan listened in awe as Marco held a conversation in Italian with him. The words rolled off his tongue in a very practiced way and they seemed to hold somethign in them that spoke of old times and family. It was beautiful in a way...and Dylan was captivated. When Marco finally hung up with his patented 'ciao' Dylan did the stupidest thing.

Asked how to speak the language.

Which resulted in Marco smiling that blinding smile, turning off their movie, and launching into the most complicated lesson yet. It lasted until three in the morning before Marco called it quits. Dylan went to bed with his head hurting that night.

A week later, Dylan and Marco were visiting the del Rossi's, as they usually just dropped by every once in awhile. Dylan never minded. He loved Marco's mother.

That night, Dylan walked around showing off to anyone who would listen his Italian skills. Marco's parents were very impressed and amused, and that night had been one of the more fun and lighthearted visits there.

Later that night, Dylan lay awake reminencing while Marco slept as he always did.

He could never imagine his life without this man in it. It would be empty...incomplete. He would never have 'learned' to love so deeply. If anything, Marco had taught him that.

Dylan lay on his side, propped himself up on his elbow, and looked down at his sleeping angel.

He leaned forward and began to softly kiss Marco's closed eyelids. And he whispered "Ti amo."

The words for "I love you." Dylan had been curious, and Marco had, of course, been only too eager to teach him.

Now, Dylan let the words fall on his sleeping ears. Covering him...protecting him...loving him.

"Ti amo...Ti amo....Ti amo..."

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

Reviews are always nice.