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: Maybe you need help. Let's review the friendship code.

IV. Suppressed by childish fears.

The kitchen was homely, comforting, a calm mix of light and dark. Craig awkwardly sat on a wooden stool, with his hands folded on the marble counter. Haunting eyes timidly watched the back of Marco's head, the teenager bustling about the stove, working as placidly as he could. After all, on the second floor lay sleeping were his parents, and two younger siblings. The plan was, that when they spotted Craig here in the morning, he had shown up earlier requesting reading material information for the coming school year.

"Here."

A sudden mug of warm hot chocolate was suddenly placed in front of the dazing boy. He jolted, and nodded his head in thanks, bringing the rim of the mug to his lips and taking a small sip. Feeling more and more relaxed, with every minute that past. Oddly, Marco's distinct comforting aura could easily relax him, when h gave it a chance. Marco then went to pull up a stool beside him, sighed with relief, and begun nursing his own mug. He was drinking warm milk, instead of chocolate. There was another silence, and as Craig once again raised his mug, there was a slight tremble to his hand that was becoming violent. It forced him to put the cup down.

"Are you okay, Craig?" The other teen boy asked, that dark glance had indeed noticed the tremble.

"Yeah, I'm alright. I guess I'm still a little shook up."

Marco looked at him thoughtfully. "Is your step-father one to argue a lot?"

The other instantly shook his head. "Of course not. Joey's amazingly cool. We're more of best buds, then him being the parental figure, and me the step-son." He paused to take another sip, slowly, and carefully. "So it was pretty bad to hear him yell. He reminded me of my father for one split moment, and that scared the hell out of me." He slumped down and pushed the half-empty mug away from him, resting his chin on his folded arms. Leaving the quiet Marco to study him with a stare.

"You've been through a lot, haven't you?"

Craig raised his eyes, but did not look at him. "You could say that."

"Have you ever thought of speaking to somebody, perhaps, a Professional?"

He shot up at that, raising a hand nervously to his temple. The whole sudden action caused Marco to jump slightly in surprise.

"No, I felt I really don't need Professional help." He retorted, his tone on the icy side, as if offended that Marco would even suggest something like that. He had made it this far without seeking help, and Craig figured that the memories would fade away with time. Little did he know that they would always lurk in his conscious. The prime example was the whole chaotic scene tonight, and why exactly he was even at the Del Rossi residence.

"Sorry. Forget I even suggested such a thing." Said Marco, with a frown.

"It's alright. I just don't want you thinking that I'm some sort of head case."

He rose from his stool, sweeping back over to the stove to wash out the small pot he had used to boil milk. "I don't think you're a head case at all. I just think it would help you if you talked to somebody, because I have a feeling that your parents arguing with each other, is just the beginning of your troubles." He ran his hands under the faucet for a moment, before turning it off and wiping down the pot with a dish rag he had handy.

"I wouldn't feel comfortable, talking to a complete stranger." He muttered as Marco swept by to collect the pair of mugs, dumping them in the sink, and proceeding to wash out the both of them, thoroughly.

"So talk to somebody you feel comfortable with. Sit down and just discuss everything that's going on inside of you. It'll help." He was staring intently at one of the mugs, wiping it down with the dishrag. You should practice what you preach, Marco, whispered the little voice in his head.

"Oh right, right. Sit down one of my friends and explain ever---" Marco cut him, by throwing the dishrag at him.

"What about Joey?"

Flustered, the boy pulled the rag off of his head. "No, thinks are going too well. I don't want to dig up the past on him."

"Sean?"

"He has enough on his plate." He threw the dishrag back at Marco, who caught it, instead of allowing it to hit his face.

"Me?"

"You're going to sit down and listen to me? I'm surprised you aren't scolding me right now."

Marco rolled his eyes. "I have a good mind to, sneaking out of the house, calling me at such a late hour---" He quickly silenced at the growing gaze of irritation drenching Craig's features. "--I mean, of course I'd listen."

"IF I want to talk to somebody, that is."

"I'll be here, and offer any advice I can. After all, that is part of the friendship code."

Craig smiled with appease. "Yeah … It is. Thanks, Marco. Now where am I going to sleep?"

The other boy turned to face him, his palms pressed against his hips. "On the floor of the porch."

Perplexity washed over Craig's pale features. "--I don't have a problem crashing on the floor, but on the porch?"

There was a twinkle in a pair of dark eyes. "I was kidding. You'll be staying in my room."

"Wow! You're actually going to let me walk on your carpet, without flailing that I might track in dirt?"

The dishrag came flying at his head again, and knowingly, Craig swiftly ducked.