Dylan turned off the ignition and leaned his head against the steering wheel, sighing deeply.'Screw it!' He thought,everything could stay in the car. He was ready for his test tomorrow, and why take the hockey gear out to just have to put it right back for the game. Locker-room showers just didn't always do it. He still felt drained. The stairs looked like they went up forever. Lock car. Pocket keys."Sh...!"Put up top. Stairs mastered. Fit-more like fight-key into lock. SLAM, and lock door.
The place smells like an Italian restaurant. Smiling, he takes a deep breath, leans against the door,closing his eyes. "Marco!" " In here!" He is adjusting the flame to its lowest setting. He checks his watch as he turns. Dylan hugs him,lifting him from the floor.
Marco laughs..."Glad to see you too babe.!" Dylan sets him down,but holds on to him, kissing his forehead. "You have no idea!" He kisses first one cheek, the other, slides his lips up the side of his neck. Trailing his tongue back down the same line,nipping him lightly,then soothing the sting of it with slow swirls of tongue. Marco shivers, hands moving on Dylan's back.
"Dylan!" "Mmmm"Dylan replies. Marco tries to back away. Tries to catch his breath. "Dylan...dinner..." "Tastes Great!" Dylan replies,going to work on the other side of his lovers neck. Marco closes his eyes, trying to remember how to breathe...And how did his hands get under Dylan's shirt. 'So warm, so smooth',he thinks. He dreams of this...miles of chest...
The timer on the oven goes off . Dylan breaths out an exasperated sigh,starts to pull back. He can feel the angry tension building in his shoulders, tightening his face...But Marco's hands just slide down to his waist and hold on. Opening his eyes, he looks down into his lovers smiling face.
He smiles back,but looks puzzled. " Hold onto me ...just like that"...Marco turns in the circle of his boyfriends arms. Holding the taller boy's hands in place with one of his own,he turns off the oven,steps to the counter for the oven mitt, holding Dylan against him as if they were dancing.
When he bends to take the bread out,Dylan bends with him,pressing himself firmly against the small firm swell of Marco's body. Marco moved...sliding down, then back up,causing Dylan to draw in a quick breath. Standing,turning back to face his lover...One hand goes under Dylan's shirt, the other trails down to caress the now well-known shape there. Now it is Dylan's turn to shiver...to whisper..."Marco..."
Of course the phone rings...
"No." Dylan says.
This 'no' is simple...final..No amount of argument will change it,or his mind.
When he bends , throwing Marco over one shoulder, the boy starts to laugh.
They stop by the phone on the wall only to turn the ringer off.
Marco is still laughing when Dylan tosses him onto the bed,and pulls his shirt off.
He does it in that one sweet move;just the way Marco loves to watch him do it.
That look...Seeing this perfect boy who is HIS lover: looking at him that way...
He joins him on the bed. ...And they are in each others arms. The kisses are long...clinging...so sweet... Dylan vows to himself;he will never let him go again...and he is lying beside him, above him...beneath him...Screaming his name into the pillow...
The sound of the door opening wakes him. Dylan opens his eyes. The hair on the pillow next to him is...red-gold? Looking back over his shoulder,he sees Marco, outside the door. Staring at him furiously, he slams the door.
"Marco!" That pained shout brings him truly awake. Dylan's heart is beating so hard he can barely breath. "Yeah." Marco comes in wearing one of Dylan's hockey shirts. The look of shocked,pleading on his lovers face says it all.
Marco goes to him ;climbing onto the bed so he can cradle him in his arms. He knows that some version of The Dream has returned to haunt them. Like all the road time between schools wasn't hard enough on both of them; a couple of weeks after they got back together, Dylan started having 'THE DREAM"!
There were different versions of it but they all involved Marco leaving him...again.