"Marco!" Mrs. Del Rossi greeted her son, as Marco entered the kitchen with Dylan in tow.
"Hi, Ma," Marco leaned in to kiss his mother on the cheek, as she did the same.
"Where's Deelan?" Mrs. Del Rossi, asked.
Marco looked behind him, figuring out he had lost sight of his very nervous boyfriend.
"Oh, geez," Marco rolled his eyes, exiting the kitchen to find Dylan lurking behind the corner. "Seriously, Dylan." Marco grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the kitchen.
Mrs. Del Rossi looked from preparing the plates for dinner to see Dylan.
"Deelan, how nice to see you again," she greeted.
"Likewise, Mrs. Del Rossi," Dylan responded politely, shuffling his feet.
"Are you okay?" She asked, noticing Dylan's odd disposition.
"Oh, I'm just fine--"
"He's just a bit nervous," Marco interjected, taking Dylan's jacket off of him.
"Oh?" Marco's mother inquired. "How come?"
Marco motioned to the other room, where he knew his dad was probably watching something on TV.
"You don't worry about a thing, Deelan. He won't say a word, I promise, if he knows what's good for him. Besides, you make Marco happy. So you make me happy." She patted his shoulder, before heading back to the plates.
Dylan smiled sweetly. Marco went up to him to hug him from the side.
"See?" Marco said, looking into Dylan's eyes, and kissing him softly on the cheek.
After dragging her husband in to the kitchen to join everyone for dinner, Mrs. Del Rossi started to serve the chicken parmigiana that she had made. Marco had hinted to his mother that Dylan enjoyed that particular dish, though he wasn't too particular.
Small talk ensued, as everyone started to eat.
"So, Deelan, how is Switzerland?" Mrs. Del Rossi started to ask, to break the silence.
"Oh, it's fine, good. Very...German." Dylan replied.
"They speak Italia there, too, don't they?" Mr. Del Rossi suddenly interrupted.
"Well, mostly on the Italian side, which is a bit away from Zurich. Large majority of Switzerland speaks German though, unfortunately," Dylan said, raising his eyebrows.
"Told you to take German," Marco muttered.
"No you, didn't, Marco," Dylan said, confused. "You told me to take Italian."
"No, I didn't. You didn't even take Italian anyway."
"Yes, you did, my God, Marco."
"I did not."
"You did too."
"Did NOT!"
"Did TOO!"
All the sudden, they heard laughter coming from Mrs. Del Rossi.
"Ma? What are you laughing at?" Marco asked, turning his head towards his mother.
"You two, you too cute."
Mr. Del Rossi grimaced at his wife's remark, but since he promised to be civil, he did not say anything.
"What other languages do you know?" Mr. Del Rossi asked Dylan.
"Well, I ended up taking French, actually," Dylan told him.
"Which you cheated in," Marco tried to mutter.
"Excuse me?" Dylan asked his boyfriend.
"You totally cheated. Not only are you partially fluent in French, you have a second cousin that visits your family ever summer from France!"
Dylan tried not to grin at his boyfriend, as he was purposely trying to argue with him.
"Ok, for the last time, she's from Belgium, not France!" Dylan said, sitting back, trying to act exasperated.
Marco grinned at his boyfriend, he loved to tease him, as it was just too easy. Marco started back to eat, and he could have sworn he saw his father chuckle to himself from his peripheral vision.
"How long will you be in ah, Switzerland, for, Deelan? Permanent?" Mr. Del Rossi asked.
Mrs. Del Rossi glared at her husband.
Marco slowly paused, before covering his mouth with his hand. "Pa, will you please be nice?"
"No, it's okay, I actually do get asked that alot," Dylan said, reaching under the table to hold Marco's hand. "But, no, this isn't a permanent assignment. I only signed on for one season, and when the season ends, they'll look over my progress and either extend my contract or reassign me somewhere else."
"You a good hockey player, though. You be extended, I'm sure. We all hope so," Mr. Del Rossi said.
"No, we don't," Marco bluntly interjected.
"What?" Mr. Del Rossi shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands defensively. "I'm just saying - career-wise- it would be good for Deelan to stay in Switzerland."
Mrs. Del Rossi had been glaring at her husband for several minutes now.
"Perchè non potete essere calmi? Vi ho detto di comportarsi! L'arresto giusto e li lascia soli. Sia felice per il vostro figlio. Non potete vederli siete felici? Ottenga fuori del vostro alto cavallo ed appena accettilo per chi è ed il suo boyfriend. buoni insieme! Chiuda la vostra bocca grande."
("Why can't you be quiet? I told you to behave! Just stop and leave them alone. Be happy for your son. Can't you see he is happy? Get off your high horse and just accept him for who he is and his boyfriend. They good together! Shut your big mouth.")
Dylan looked back and forth at Marco's parents, wondering what they were saying, as he knew very little Italian. Marco smiled at his mother, as he got up to take his plate to the sink.
"Grazie," Marco said, as he kissed his mother's cheek, right after Mrs. Del Rossi winked at Dylan. "You two go relax, I'll clean up."
"Marco, you sure?" Mrs. Del Rossi asked.
"Of course, go, go." Marco waved his hand at her.
As Marco's parents left, Dylan got up to help Marco with the dishes. Dylan snuck behind Marco to kiss his neck, as he wrapped his arms around Marco's waist.
"Dyl, that tickles," Marco said, starting to giggle.
"Care to translate that Italian for me?" Dylan asked Marco.
"If you took Italian, you would know." Marco tried to say with a straight face, with little success.
"Oh shut up, you sexy little minx." Dylan started to nuzzle Marco's neck. "Tell me."
"She told him to shut up and be happy for me, with a few harsh words in between."
"Wow, go Mama Del Rossi," Dylan said, moving to Marco's side, to help him dry dishes off.
"She is quite awesome," Marco agreed. "Quite the badass at times."
Dylan looked at Marco, leaning in to kiss his lips. Marco returned this kiss, but quickly broke away, as he looked behind his shoulder. "I'll admit its better, Dyl, but he's still far from comfortable with it."
"I know, I'm sorry."
"Dyl," Marco looked up at him, as Dylan looked back at him. "Don't be sorry about that. Never be sorry for that. You know I love that, its just Pop.." Marco trailed off.
Dylan touched Marco's shoulders, beginning to rub his muscles. "Oh, baby, I know..."
Once the dishes were done, Marco and Dylan ventured into the living room. Marco's mom came towards them in a rush.
"Oh, Marco, your father and I are going to the movies. Just lock up when you leave." Mrs. Del Rossi kissed Marco's cheek. She turned to Dylan, to do the same. "So nice to see you again, Deelan. You take care of my boy, will you?"
"With all my heart," Dylan replied, turning to kiss her on the cheek as well, smiling at Marco's mother, as she touched Dylan's cheek.
Dylan's mother grabbed her husband, and rushed him out of the house, not giving him a chance to say bye.
Marco turned around to face Dylan. "Did my mom...," he said slowly, "just leave us in the house alone?"
"Sounds like it," Dylan replied, looking at Marco, who was smiling bigger by the second.