"Paige, c'mon, let me in," Dylan knocked assertively at the locked bathroom door again; hand on his knee as he bent down losing his breath with every passing second.

"Just chill out, I've got one eyebrow still to pluck and then it's all yours," She said calmly, leaning forward over the sink and getting very close to the mirror. Dylan's stomach rumbled and he felt a familiar movement somewhere in his throat.

"Paige, I think I'm going to be sick," Dylan said just loud enough so that only Paige could hear him through the door. She flung open the door as soon as the last syllable escaped his mouth and he pushed past her just in time to throw himself on his knees in front of the toilet. Paige rubbed at Dylan's bare shoulders with her face turned and eyes closed. The sound didn't bother her, just the sight. Dylan coughed weakly as he changed his position, leaning back against the wall, legs bent at the knee in front of him. His bare chest heaved while his forehead glistened with early-morning sweat. Paige grabbed a washcloth from under the sink and ran it under cool water before folding it up and placing it on Dylan's forehead. He leaned his head back obediently as Paige spread the damp cloth over his face and neck.

"Poor thing, and you've got your hockey game today and everything," she said in a sympathetic voice. Dylan's eye snapped open and he stood abruptly. He leaned over the sink and gargled water in his mouth from a paper cup before spitting it out again.

"I'm going to get dressed," he said quickly exiting the bathroom. Paige jumped up and followed him as he walked crookedly into his room. Dylan's head spun and he leaned against his chest-high dresser for support. He crossed his arms and rested his forehead on them.

"Are you crazy?" Paige asked, hands on her hips. Dylan stood still in his plaid boxers, still breathing heavily. She took him by his bicep and led him to the bed. He lay down against his will but sighed in relief as he rested in the soft down of his sheets. Paige stepped up on the bed and pulled twice at the chain of the fan, speeding it up to its maximum pace. She pushed Dylan's curls off his forehead and felt his head for a temperature.

"You don't have a fever or anything," Paige stated in some sort of disbelief. Dylan shrugged half-heartedly against the pillow under his head. "Want me to get mom?" Paige's question was answered with a slight shake of curls.

"I'll come in late, sleep another hour or so. I'm feeling better already," Dylan said just above a whisper. Paige looked down at Dylan for a little while longer.

"Take a shower at least, but only come if you feel absolutely better. I'll go see if mom'll drive me," she stopped before she shut the door. "Need anything?" Dylan shook his head then the door closed.

The shrill ring of the telephone woke Dylan from the sleep he hadn't even realized he'd started. He glanced over at the clock which read 3:30. He tried to gain his bearings before he answered the phone, but one more ring and the answering machine would have picked up. He grabbed the receiver from the cordless on his bedside table.
"Hello?" he said in a voice heavy with the memory of sleep.
"Hey baby, I missed you today," Marco said softly on the other line. Dylan smiled to himself at the familiar voice.
"I missed you too,"
"Heard you were sick this morning, you feel any better?"
"Yeah, I guess. I was going to come in for third period, but I slept through the school day I guess,"
"Did I wake you up?" Marco's voice crackled a little bit and Dylan noticed the slight commotion in the background.
"Yeah, but its fine, I need to get up anyway. Where are you?"
"Still at school, why?"
"Do you wanna come over for a while?"
"I thought you were sick,"
"I was, but I feel great now,"
"Oh I get it, you played hooky so you could rest up for your game tonight," Marco joked.
"I can't play because I didn't show up for class. School policy," Dylan explained.
"Yeah yeah, I'll be over there soon. Need anything while I'm out?" Dylan thought for a moment.
"Actually, yes, could you get me a club sandwich from the Dot with pickles on the side?" Marco scrunched up his face slightly.
"Thought you didn't like club sandwiches," He said slightly confused, walking along the sidewalk towards the Dot.
"So you're not going to feed your poor sick boyfriend?" Dylan said in a feigned sad voice.
"Oh hush, whatever you want baby. I'm on my way, alright?"
"Okay, see you soon,"
"I love you," Marco pulled open the door to the familiar spot.
"Love you too," Dylan responded before hanging up the phone. Dylan lay still, looking around his room. He rolled out of bed, wobbling before getting his footing. He turned to the bed and pulled the sheets taught over the pillows. He unrolled the comforter from the foot of the bed and threw more pillows on it. He picked up stray pieces of clothing and school books from the floor and placed them in the appropriate place. A hot shower sounded like a good idea so he jumped in quickly. The steaming spray made his head spin, so he turned the hot water off completely; the cold water gave him incentive to hurry up.

He wrapped himself in a towel and headed downstairs to the laundry room to get some clean clothes, dragging his wicker hamper down with him. The laundry room was connected to the kitchen and must be passed through in order to get to the desired washing machine and dryer. Dylan stopped as he swung open the kitchen door. Marco straightened up quickly and beamed proudly at the place setting on the table. He had Dylan's lunch-dinner set up nicely complete with a little clear vase of flowers and an artistically folded napkin. Marco looked Dylan over from head to toe and grinned devilishly.

"Nice," he commented on Dylan's attire. Dylan blushed and set the hamper to the side of the door. He moved over to Marco and pulled him into a tight hug. He kissed the younger boy shortly and then pulled back, looking down at him, silently thanking him. Marco looked down past Dylan's toned chest and hard stomach where the towel tucked in on itself low on Dylan's hips. Marco bit his lip as he stared a little longer than necessary before looking back up at Dylan's face.

"Thinking dirty thoughts?" Dylan teased. Marco blushed as well and nodded before stepping away. He motioned towards the table and Dylan sat down, forgetting about the clothes he had come to retrieve. Marco sat beside Dylan and looked at him expectantly. Dylan took the top of the roll off the sandwich and stood up. He opened the refrigerator door and looked at the contents.

"Did I forget something?" Marco asked, turning in his seat. Dylan grabbed the bottle he was looking for and sat back down. Marco watched with disbelieving eyes as Dylan turned the bottle over and squeezed ketchup onto his exposed sandwich. A look of slight disgust washed over his face and Dylan looked up innocently.

"What?" he asked as if ketchup was a completely normal thing to put on a sandwich. Marco shook his head, tossing off the notion.
"Nothing, just a strange choice of condiments,"
"You have no business with my condiments, thank you very much," Marco smiled and squeezed Dylan's knee under the table. Dylan winked at the younger boy deviously.
"So, where's Paige?" Dylan asked after he finished chewing his first bite.
"Hazel's," Marco answered, "Where are your parents?" Dylan shrugged and then remembered the conversation they had had the night before.
"Dad left for Los Angeles today for some convention and mom has an executive meeting in Toronto tonight at some restaurant,"
"Oh," Marco nodded slightly.
"We have the place to ourselves," Dylan stated. He placed his hands over Marco's on the table and squeezed meaningfully.
"Guess we do," Marco agreed. Dylan swallowed down the last bite and topped it off with a sip of water. Dylan stood and took his plate to the sink. He ran it under hot water and set it at the bottom of the deep white sink. He'd deal with it later. He turned around and looked at Marco, who stood just steps away. Marco closed the gap between them, pinning Dylan against the counter. The cool tile pressed into Dylan's naked back and he arched into Marco then slowly settled back down as his body heat warmed them up. Marco raised his eyebrows at the movement and then pushed himself against Dylan's half naked figure.
"Ooooo, taking the lead today, huh?" Dylan teased. Marco ground their crotches together roughly. Dylan slipped his hands around Marco's waist and into his back pockets that hugged his skin. Marco bravely pulled the towel from itself and let it fall down Dylan's legs. Dylan moaned at the exposure and ground roughly against Marco's groin again. Marco captured their lips together fiercely. Dylan pulled away from the fiery kiss shortly.
"Upstairs," He whispered. Suddenly there was no warm body against his, but Marco pulled on his hand and led him quickly up the stairs, forgetting the towel still pooled on the kitchen floor.

Dylan wrapped himself around Marco, who stared up at Dylan's white ceiling, and pulled the covers tighter around them. Marco had a slight smile plastered on his face, still enjoying the post-orgasmic bliss settling low in his stomach. Dylan's cheek rested on Marco's shoulder and his arm over Marco's sweaty stomach. He tickled invisible patterns over Marco's olive skin before Marco laced their fingers together over his chest. Marco turned his head to the side and kissed at Dylan's messy hair. Peppermint shampoo filled his nose and he buried his face deeper into the mop of curls.

"You like to top, don't you?" Dylan said calmly. Marco was caught off guard by the question.
"Yeah, I guess so," he agreed.
"You can't guess so or we switch back," Dylan said.
"I thought you didn't mind taking," Marco said shakily, unsure if he was making Dylan do something he wasn't fond of.
"No, I love being with you, doesn't matter what spot I take. It's just that, I've been on the bottom for a while now," Dylan stated.
"I'm sorry, it's just," Marco stopped himself.
"Come on, say it," Dylan urged him gently.
"It's just that you're always so protective with me sometimes. You act like I'll break or something; you're so gentle and sometimes I don't want that. Everyone looks at the two of us and they see you as the manly tough guy and me, the little girly one," Marco confessed.
"Hey, we've talked about this. You're not girly-"
"But other people think-" Marco interrupted.
"Who cares what other people think. Sometimes they don't at all," Dylan interrupted back. Marco sighed and turned over on his side, away from Dylan. "I know what you're trying to say. Just remember, you don't have to impress me anymore, I'm already yours," Dylan kissed behind Marco's ear.
"We can switch spots if you want to. It's hard being aggressive all the time," Marco compromised. Dylan laughed a little and Marco joined in.
"I love you," Dylan said into Marco's ear as he kissed around it.
"Me too," Marco added.

Paige opened the bathroom half-asleep, still in her terrycloth robe. She jumped up quickly when she found Dylan bent over again on the floor, resting his forehead against the cool porcelain.
"Are you still sick?" she croaked. Dylan wiped furiously at his teary eyes.

"I don't understand, I felt fine yesterday and the day before," he let out an extremely shaky breath. Paige got out another washcloth and wet it before handing it to Dylan. He thanked her silently and pressed it into his forehead.

"If you miss another day, you'll have to take exams in June," Paige reminded him.
"I know, I know. I'm going today, regardless," he said, standing slowly, leaning against the countertop for support. He stretched his arms over his head and his back cracked. Paige flinched at the sound.
"What about hockey?" She asked.
"I'll play it by ear," he swished some warm water in his mouth to get the horrible taste out of his mouth and splashed water on his face.
"Have you eaten anything strange today?" Paige asked as they met at the doorway.
"I had some pickles and whipped cream for a midnight snack," he said. Paige made the same disgusted face that Dylan recognized from Marco.
"Together?" Paige asked. Dylan nodded and shrugged.
"Strange cravings at midnight,"
"Maybe, but nothing can explain pickles and whipped cream, that's beyond gross," Dylan shrugged again.
"We're leaving in thirty minutes, missy, get going," he said, closing his bedroom door quietly.

Dylan was having trouble concentrating on his calculus homework in the library during his study hall period before lunch. He tapped his pencil, bounced his leg, and looked at his watch; much to his relief, the bell rang after he finished the fourth problem. He packed up his books as quickly as he could before practically racing out to his locker. He threw his messenger bag into his locker without taking anything out. He slammed it quickly and waded through the crowd of people to the nearest water fountain. A cleared throat from behind him forced him to step away, the courteous part of him overruling.

He walked quickly into the guy's bathroom and leaned against the counter. He looked at himself in the mirror; dark circles had formed under his eyes from the little sleep he'd had, getting up to speed with the rest of his classes over the past two days. He jumped as a small hand touched his back. He looked in the mirror at Marco's reflection, smiling brightly at him. Dylan turned around and faced Marco's deflating smile. Marco worried his eyebrows together,

"Babe what's wrong? You don't look so good," Marco asked touching his arm lovingly. Dylan closed his eyes and shook his head.
"Nothing, I'm still recovering, that's all,"
"Recovering from what exactly?" Marco seemed concerned.
"I don't know!" Dylan yelled at him. Marco removed his hand from Dylan's arm and brushed a stray lock of hair to the side. "Look, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to snap at you. I just, I'm not sure what's going on with me, okay?" Marco nodded timidly.
"Yeah, I know," he said in a small voice.
"I'm sick one minute, then I'm fine the next. I just don't know," Dylan said weakly. His bottom lip quivered and tears threatened to breech his eyes. He rubbed at them with his knuckles and turned his face away from Marco. He put a hand on the taller boy's shoulder. He quickly turned around and grabbed Marco in a tight hug. They stood holding on to each other until the door swung open and a surprised freshman turned on his heels out the door. Marco and Dylan looked at each other before laughing. Dylan gave one last squeeze and let go of the younger boy. He wiped his eyes once more before grabbing for Marco's hands. Marco jerked them away quickly. Dylan looked hurt but Marco turned the hot water tap on.
"Haven't washed 'em yet," he reasoned. Dylan smiled, relieved, and grasped Marco's hand as they headed for the cafeteria.

Paige was furiously copying notes from the board down into her notebook, trying to add notes to the side that helped her follow Mrs. Kwan's rapid voice. Paige hated having her last period of the day when she was beyond ready to be home. A small knock at the classroom door didn't stop her until she heard Mrs. Kwan calling her name.
"Go ahead and take your things," Mrs. Kwan instructed. Paige stood awkwardly and shrugged at Hazel before she stepped out of classroom. The school nurse stood with her hands clasped together at her waist.
"Paige, Dylan got sick this afternoon and he wants to talk to you," Paige nodded and followed her to the nurse's office. Dylan was lying on a blue cot with his forearm covering his eyes. Paige squatted down beside him and touched his other arm.
"Hey," she said quietly.
"Hey,"
"You get sick again?" Dylan nodded embarrassed. "It's okay," Paige comforted him.
"There's just ten minutes left of last period," the nurse interrupted, "I called your mother and she said you can drive Dylan home," she informed them.
"Thank you so much," Paige said to her before turning to Dylan, "You ready to go?" Dylan nodded again and stood slowly. Paige grabbed his messenger bag and slid it over her shoulder. She thanked the nurse again before hobbling out of the office with Dylan.

"Do you need any books?" Dylan shook his head and reached into his back pocket. He handed Paige the keys to his car and they walked out to the parking lot in silence.

Dylan felt like he had just finished a marathon after the third set of lines at hockey one Friday afternoon. He panted all the way through and fell back to the end of the group after the fifth touch of the ice. The sharp whistle never sounded better to his ears than it did when his coach called the end of practice. He let everyone out of the gate before him. He was about to step onto the rubber mat just outside the gate when a voice called him from across the ice. He turned to see Coach Valson motioning him back over.
"Yeah coach?" he said, pulling off his helmet.
"I know you've been ill, but you're really falling behind. You've gained some weight and it's slowing you down," Coach Valson pointed out.
"I'll try and work it off," Dylan agreed.
"You think you can play tomorrow?"
"Yes sir, I know I can,' Dylan promised.
"Glad to have you back," Coach patted his shoulder through pads and sent him off the ice and into the changing room.

Paige knocked at Dylan's door loudly.
"Come in," Dylan called. Paige opened the door to see her shirtless brother looking at himself in a full-length mirror by his closet. She stepped all the way into the room and shut the door behind her. Dylan looked up at her and turned to face her.
"Okay, honestly, do I look like I've gained weight?" Paige looked at Dylan and opened and closed her mouth quickly. "Just tell me if I have," he said, flexing his disappearing abs.
"Have you gotten on the scale?" Paige asked, not wanting to answer his question.
"Not yet, but Coach could tell without seeing me on a scale. I just didn't think there was anything really different," he turned back to the mirror and gave a displeased sigh. He grabbed a white t-shirt from the back of his chair and pulled it over his head.

"Anyway, what's up?" He said, sliding his arms through their holes. Paige couldn't find her voice and simply motioned him towards the bed. He sat on it, confusion evident on his face and Paige rolled his desk chair over to the side of it.
"This is going to sound really strange," Paige stopped. Dylan looked at her expectantly.
"Yes?" he asked, urging her on, "Just say it,"
"Dylanareyoupregnant?" Paige said quickly in one short breath. Dylan squinted at her with a joke in his voice.
"What?" he asked through a laugh.
"Are you pregnant?" Paige repeated a little slower this time. She was looking everywhere but at Dylan. He was at lost for words, disbelief and confusion filled his head.

"Forgive me for prying, but have you and Marco-"
"No!" Dylan interrupted, "I mean, we have but no, I'm not pregnant. I can't be I mean I'm-"
"Dylan, it happens! Seriously, you've been eating the strangest things, you get sick almost every morning and not from all the weird things you eat," Dylan refused to put any pieces together. He shook his head as Paige continued to talk. "You're gaining weight, Dylan, you could be preg-"
"STOP IT!" Dylan yelled. He pulled at his hair with all his fingers. "There's no way," he whispered to the floor, "There's just no way," Paige watched him for a long time. She could hear him crying in front of her but she couldn't bring herself to touch him. She let him cry it out all the while whispering over and over again, "There's no way." His sobs subsided after a while and he looked wearily up at his sister.

He understood what she wasn't saying and he followed her into their shared bathroom. Paige opened up the cabinet under the sink and squatted down to dig through it. Pushed all the way in the back was a small box of pregnancy tests Paige had bought secretly when she'd skipped one month hidden behind spare towels and unused cans of hairspray and gel. She took out a new test and handed it to Dylan. Dylan looked wearily at it and started to cry again. Paige hugged him shortly.
"I'll be right outside," she whispered and squeezed his shoulder before pulling the door shut behind her.

She sat just outside the door, knees gathered up at her chest. She wished she could tell her parents about Dylan's daily upset stomach; wished she could tell them all the strange things she'd seen him eat and the stranger things she'd seen him do and say. But she knew she couldn't right now. Her dad was traveling so much more with his recent promotion and her mom was dealing with some seriously demanding bosses, keeping her at the office to review strategies and company policies till nearly ten every night. She chewed her lip nervously wondering what the hell was taking Dylan so long. She picked at her chipping nail polish and cracked her knuckles even though she loathed the sound of it.

A loud thump came from the room behind her and a loud voice floated through the door. Paige jumped up quickly and threw the door open. Dylan was curled in a ball on the floor, wailing into his arms in the corner between the shower and the wall.
"Oh my God," he whispered, "Oh my God." She'd never seen him lose it like this. Paige knelt by him quickly and touched his shoulder lightly. He lifted his head sorrowfully to reveal already red eyes and a tear streaked face. Paige's eyes welled up at the sight of her brother and she too was soon crying at the understood statement. Dylan curled back into a ball of limbs, dropping the test onto the tile floor. Paige wrapped herself around his shaking body, crying into his shoulder. She didn't need to pick up the test to know the message it read, and never before in her life had she ever been so afraid of a simple word such as "Yes."