A/N: This is pretty much a saptastic story with some angst thrown in for fun. The beginning lyric is from a personal favourite of mine, "Behind A Painted Smile" by The Isley Brothers. Big thanks to my friend and awesome writer Darco for giving me that little extra push to put this up here. You rock.
"Whenever you're near I hide my tears behind a painted smile. You can't imagine the tears and sorrow behind a painted smile"
Crystal droplets violently poured down on the vacant roof of Degrassi High, forming diminutive puddles in the cracked concrete. Students moved restlessly in their chairs, fatigued eyes shifting back and forth, from the clock to their teacher who was still rambling on about something or other that they'd probably forget in a day's time. A pair of dismal cocoa eyes fluttered closed, a repressed sigh finally admitting itself from its owner's mouth. A stray strand of usually perfectly placed hair fell in front of said eyes, tickling the soft skin on the Italian's ashen cheeks. The annoyed teen carelessly swiped the hair behind his ear and then rested his delicate hands back down on his desk. He had stopped listening to his teacher quite some time ago, his mind still flooded with thoughts of the horrific dorm party.
He was barely aware that the end school bell had already rung, relieved teens shoving their way out of the classroom. Marco solemnly collected his things and joined the sea of bodies exiting the school. He didn't even bother stopping at his locker. The teen still hadn't taken down the pictures of him and his ex-boyfriend. He refused to subject himself to anything that reminded him of a certain blonde. Marco absentmindedly made his way down the steps of Degrassi, the rain hitting him hard, soaking him and his once dry school supplies. He laughed helplessly at his dismay.
His distraught gaze fixated itself on his shoes as he walked, ignorant to the people surrounding him. The Italian's damp hair clung to his flushed face, shivering viciously at the stinging cold the rain produced. He pulled desperately at his jacket, trying to make the thin material covered more of his freezing torso. The brunette's head lifted as he heard familiar voices speak heatedly.
"Please, let's just go now, okay?"
"Hold on a sec. I have to make sure I have my math assignment."
Marco's eyes widened comically. He could see two familiar blondes chatting amongst each other. His stomach lurched painfully at the sight of the hockey player. Why did he have to be here? The teen jumped slightly as his eyes connected with the older boy's sapphire ones, widened in shock as his was.
"Okay, I'm done, let's go."
Paige hurriedly rushed off towards her brother's car. Dylan's and his eyes still remained locked. The blonde was sporting his old yellow raincoat. His blonde curls were now a shade of golden wheat, the water darkening his natural color. Marco's lips quivered anxiously as a choking sob lodged itself at the back of his throat. He didn't know if it was the rain or if he was merely seeing things because at that moment he could have sworn he saw a single tear trickle down the older boy's pale skin. The Italian was stunned at the sight. He'd never seen the blonde cry before. He was unsure if that was indeed a tear or simply the downpour trailing down his ashen face. Dylan then quickly whipped his head away from the younger boy. That one trivial movement was like a brutal slap to the brunette's face. The hockey player then headed off towards his sister. The teen watched disheartened as the love of his life slowly disappeared from view.
- - -
Oh how delicious that was. Not the kiss but the sweet satisfaction he got as he saw Dylan storm out of the club. The kiss actually quite awkward for him. Tim's lips were… different. They were timid and shy but generally nice. They were most definitely different from the blonde's. Dylan's lips were hungry and demanding. There was quite the contrast between the two men. The brunette was extremely overjoyed by the angered expression on the older boy's face as he unexpectedly kissed Tim. Though he felt terrible for simply using the younger boy like that. Oh well, it's not like Tim complained about it afterwards and he could always make it up to him by taking him out again. This time no irritating interruptions by overzealous ex-boyfriends. Where did Paige disappear off to? He had a few things to say to her. It was obvious that the blonde girl had oh so conveniently intervened. He told Tim that he would be right back and then headed off to find Paige. He wondered if Paige had chased after her brother.
Wouldn't that just make his day. Running into a furious Dylan and a nosey Paige. The Italian stopped abruptly in his tracks. Maybe he should wait for Paige to find him. There's no doubt that she would. He then had a sudden urge to go to the bathroom. Damn those two water bottles he had gulped down earlier. The teen hurriedly sped towards the men's washroom. He impatiently pushed open the door and tore into one of the stalls. Once he was done relieving himself he flushed the toilet. Marco was about the open the stall door when he heard heavy footsteps trudge into the bathroom, a familiar voice muttering under his breath. His rolled his eyes wearily. Just fantastic. Dylan was here. The brunette climbed onto the toilet and sat their silently, waiting for the older boy to leave.
He raised one eyebrow incredulously as he heard a faint noise admitting from the hockey player. Was Dylan crying? The sound was rapidly cut off by the sound off the tap running. The teen bit his lips nervously. He sighed tirelessly as he heard the tap stop and paper towel being retrieved. He exited the stall as soon as the blonde left. He stood there dumbfounded. He wasn't feeling so ecstatic about the stunt he had pulled anymore. The Italian shook his head. He convinced himself that he merely imagined it. Dylan wasn't crying. He couldn't have been. Marco stared confusedly at the washroom door, the smirk that was once on his face disappearing completely.
- - -
Marco's eyes tiredly fluttered open at the morning light pouring in through his window. He extended his arms out exhaustedly to reach for his lover. He patted repeatedly at the place Dylan was when he fell asleep. All he felt was a soft indentation and slight warmth, indicating that the older boy had left their bed recently. He sighed arduously as he pulled the toasty covers off of his stiffened body. He rubbed his puffy red eyes, coughing quietly. He then mindlessly rose from his bed and made his way out his bedroom door, dragging his blanket along with him. The wispy sheet covered his entire body; the only things visible were his head, neck and his jutted collar bone. The sleepy Italian was shirtless and wore only his boxers. It was the first morning in his new home. After the horrible going away bash for Paige, the younger boy had slept over here.
He told his parents that he would be unpacking the rest of his things and that he wouldn't be done until late. He eventually convinced them that he should spend the night there because it would be more convenient. This way they wouldn't have to pick him up in the middle of the night. He would have gotten all of his unpacking done if somebody hadn't distracted him with ginger snaps and 'ahem' bedroom fun. Though he didn't mind. He did need a distraction from the stressful thoughts that were consuming him that night. It was hard that Paige would be moving like a bazillion miles away and that Ellie would be stuck up in rez. Well that was if she was even admitted into rez. Spinner and Jimmy were still stuck within the depths of Degrassi and Craig was in Vancouver, fulfilling his dreams. He felt like his friends were reluctantly disappearing. Though it would be nice living with Dylan. The thought of waking up next to him every morning and snuggling up to him every night made him smile brightly. He'd have to do something with that Wayne Gretzky picture though…
The younger boy made his way around the corner and into the living room, cocking his head to the side at what he saw. "Dylan are you okay?" The blonde sat on the couch with his face buried in his hands. The older boy immediately shot up, surprised. His eyes were red and puffy just as his were, though it seemed as if his cheeks were wet.
"Y-Yeah, I'm fine." The hockey player sputtered out, avoiding eye contact with him. "I'm going to make breakfast."
The brunette helplessly watched his boyfriend's back as he retreated into the kitchen.
- - -
Tears poured violently down the Italian's face. The younger boy was sobbing viciously into Dylan's shoulder. He didn't want to leave the older boy's soothing and comforting embrace. The brunette tightened his hold on the hockey player, his thin arms wrapped securely around Dylan's neck. He couldn't go. He couldn't leave him. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. He wanted to drag Dylan home and lock him in their bedroom so that he couldn't leave. The younger boy could felt his heart tearing apart bit by bit. The older boy was of course whispering sweet nothings into his ear, in hopes of consoling him. They were at the airport and Dylan's flight number for Switzerland had just been called. Paige merely watched as the lovers grasped onto each other. All of this made the brunette sick, utterly sick. No more waking up beside him or falling asleep in his arms. No more laughing quietly as he listened to Dylan's singing in the shower. No more unexpected kisses or pecks on the cheek that he loved so. No more Dylan.
"Please don't go," Marco begged. He knew it was selfish for him to even be saying that right now. He could only be making things worse for Dylan. The hockey player must be hurting too. He couldn't handle this. He needed Dylan. Why did he have to leave? Why was this happening?
"I'm sorry babe. I have to go," The older brunette replied as he pulled away. He gently wiped away the bitter tears that fell down his love's face. Marco then felt desperate lips crash against his. The Italian kissed back with all his might, their tongues entwining. Marco snaked his fingers into the older boy's chestnut locks so that he could deepen their kiss. This would be the last time he kissed his boyfriend for awhile. He had to make every second count. The hockey player carelessly threw his strong arms around the younger boy's lithe hips, drawing them closer, then they reluctantly parted for air."I love you Marco. Good bye."
"I love you too. Bye Dyl," The Italian responded. Dylan then placed a chaste kiss on Marco's lips and headed off to the boarding gate. The brunette was trembling furiously. Paige carefully wrapped one arm around Marco's waist, resting her head on his shoulder. He prayed that Dylan would turn his head to look at him once more before he left. Just once more. He just needed one more look to tide him over until he saw the older boy again. His prayer was answered. The older boy turned his head and stared directly into the younger boy's watery eyes. Though there was a vast amount of people between them, they only saw each other. Dylan sorrowfully mouthed the words 'I love you', his azure eyes glittering. The hockey player then turned away, Marco wondering again if that was a tear his saw. He wept inwardly as Dylan mingled into the sea of people, eventually disappearing from the Italian's sight.
- - -
Marco stopped with the light kisses to the older boy's neck and stared shocked at the scene that was unfolding right in front of him. He could feel his heart heaving with concern for his boyfriend, still unsure of what was happening. He shifted restlessly on the mattress, his boyfriend pinned underneath him. The Italian watched helplessly as tears glistened down the older boy's flushed cheeks, azure eyes desperately trying to blink them away. Dylan was crying. He was sure of it but why? Had he done something wrong? The Italian's eyes flooded with confusion while gently reaching out to cup the older boy's cheek. To his surprise Dylan did the weirdest thing then. He smiled. What? Why was he smiling? Marco could feel his boyfriend happily nuzzling his face into his palm, cheeks a bloom with a soft pink. "Dylan, wha -"
"I love you," Dylan interrupted, still smiling his infectious smile, eyes bright and sparkling, "I love you so much."
"I love you too Dylan… b-but why are you crying. Did I do something wrong?" The Italian asked, his voice laced with worry. Dylan chuckled quietly then placed a chaste peck on the younger boy's olive cheek. Dylan started to remind Marco of a puppy with the way he was avidly cuddling into his body.
"No, you didn't. I'm just, happy. That's all," The younger brunette cocked one eyebrow, still not understanding, "Marco when we separated because of the long distance thing I was heartbroken. Every day from then on I was miserable but now that we're back together… I just never thought I'd feel this happy again. Thank you Marco, for making me happy again."
The Italian rested his forehead against the older boy's, both of them caught up in a loving gaze. It was he who should be thanking Dylan for making him happy again. His life had been depressing and numb without Dylan. As soon as the hockey player had come home Marco immediately pleaded with Dylan to be with him again, which to his appeasement drew a small chuckle and a huge smile from the older brunette. He'd never forget what Dylan said to him, "I guess you beat me to the punch line Del Rossi." The Italian leaned down and carefully kissed both Dylan's eyes, feeling the salty sweetness of his love's tears. The younger brunette was overwhelmed with joy, grinning from ear to ear, his heart content and his mind sound. He decided then and there that this would be the only crying the older boy would do from here on out.
Awww, happy ending. Aren't those the best? I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.