Electron + Proton = Attraction

Author: degrassi

Type: Slash. M/M.

Pairing: Marco Del Rossi/Craig Manning.

Rating: PG-13.

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama.
Characters: Are in tenth grade. Emma & Co. a year behind.

Chapter: Run, run, as fast as you can. Escape, escape, to a cup of comfort.

III. Time cannot erase.

Sneaking out of the Jeremiah household wasn't as easy as one would predict. They were still arguing with each other, on the first floor. Therefore, all questions of using the front door were out. He could sneak out of his window, but then he didn't feel like breaking his legs. He was on the second floor, but he didn't have anything to climb down if he did use the window. Head beginning to throb with a headache that was painfully between his eyes, he crept into the hallway, aiming to use the back staircase and disappear out the back door. It would he less of a hassle.

A small backpack was the only thing he took with him. It contained his cell phone, as well as a spare change of clothing for the morning. Craig, of course, hadn't been too concerned with the clothing. He would've ran out of there as he was.

He worked his way down the dim hallway, briefly wondering if he should check on Angela. Yet as he crept past her bedroom, and hear nothing behind it, he was sure that she was still asleep. Letting out a tense sigh, he let himself slip silently onto the back staircase. He moved slowly, working with the shadows the small hall light illuminated to keep him from tripping over a stair. Finally on the ground landing of the home, he gave a quick, stare towards the closed door leading into the kitchen, which lead out into the living room. Shaking his head, and unlocking the back door, he pushed it open, also hurrying to unlock the screen door.

Safely stepping into the backyard, Craig's hand flew to the handle of the screen door before it smacked loudly against the closed back door. Easing it shut, the boy, out of habit, hiked the collar of his shirt up. Turning and slumping down slightly, he made his way out of the backyard, through the gate, and onto Degrassi street. At first, he walked, enjoying the familiar taste of freedom. After all, it was something Craig constantly longed for. Another thing he admired, was the stillness of the block. It lulled his mind into a sense of security.

He crossed at the intersection in silence, heading up the block without a thought. Snapping his head up, and peering up the block which was only faintly lit by street lights, Craig begun to run. Not full on sprite, more like a jog. Passing house after house with only one in mind. Sharply turning at the corner, Craig skidded his hand against the brick foundation of another small home he past, hazel-green eyes dazzled slightly by the glare of a single bright light once he looked up.

A porch light.

Now, Craig originally did know where Marco's house was. However, not tonight. Little things like this, fled from his mind the minute he woke up. It was surprising, even to him that he had even remembered the other boy's phone number. Fingers had just dialed.

Walking towards the similar-looking brick house, Craig's hand reached out and grabbed a hold of the top of the front gate, unlocking it and pushing it open. He heard the faint shifting of a body, and peered up at a tired looking Marco Del Rossi, sitting with one leg hoisted up on a small porch swing. The thing Craig liked about the Del Rossi residence, was their porch. Closing the gate behind him, and heading up the front steps, he heaved a sigh, settling down on the top and final step with his hands in his lap. Craig looked like somebody that had just walked half way across the world. In truth, he did wander down memory lane, a very unpleasant memory lane.

"Hey." He said, sweeping his hand through his hair.

Marco leaned forward, letting his leg escape from under his body. He crossed his ankles, and pressed his palms against his knees, with a tilt of his head. "Hey." He said, sitting still for a moment, before he hoisted himself to his feet. He settled across from Craig leaning against the railing.

"Care to explain to me what you're doing here?"

"They were arguing again." He pressed his hands against his temples, massaging them lightly. He pretended to sound bored, and tired.

The boy raised a thin brow, dark eyes slightly narrowed at his troublesome companion. "..That's why you snuck out of your house?"

Craig snapped his head up, looking slightly offended. He didn't say anything for a few moments, just let a comforting night breeze caress his cheek.

"Not exactly." He finally retorted, sounding soft.

"So Joey and Lily were arguing. You could've always turned on a fan to drown them out, or listen to your CD player. Something to help you get back to--" Marco was cut off by the look he received from Craig, who looked like a child being struck to the face.

"My mother and father used to argue like that at times. I should know. I used to have to sit and watch." Marco was quiet, as Craig went into farther detail. "At times, my father would get so out of hand… he'd raise his hand to her." He sounded like just forming the words was highly difficult. Which it was. "I just… I just don't like to see fighting in the household I'm in. It makes me really nervous, and I tend to panic." A small snigger escaped his lips.

Calmly, Marco raised his hands, running them through his own bed head. They fell back to his sides. "So it triggered a lot of bad memories for you." It wasn't a question per say. More like a gentle statement.

Craig begun to nod, looking down at his hands. "Yeah, yeah it did." The awkwardness was setting in again, and a comfortable silence past between the two teenagers as they sat there. His past wasn't something one brought up in conversations. The one who was not completely in the dark, was Sean Cameron. Also Emma Nelson had a good idea what had went on. That was it, though. They didn't know his childhood. Marco didn't know his childhood, OR his father. Nobody mentioned it. It wasn't something to mention. He didn't feel like telling him. When he knew the grade ten perfectionist knew that was barely a scrape at the surface.

In silent understanding, Marco reached out, and placed a comforting hand against the other boy's shoulder.

"Hey.." He began, twice as quietly.

Craig looked up from his hands, raising a brow.

"Come on inside. I'll make you a glass of hot chocolate."