So sorry about the wait you guys. I could give you all my excuses...but I'd rather just give you the chapter. XD Anyway, here you go.

Nanaki BH: yes, so overdone! Also, I started writing this a week before "It's Raining Men" So yes, it is very AU. Sorry it's so confusing.

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"I guess, what I'm trying to say is...you wanna have dinner this weekend?"

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Marco stepped forward, keys in hand, and opened the front door to his house. His face hurt, he thought distractedly. Dumb smile. The first thing he saw when he walked in was his father on the living room couch reading the paper. The sight of his father's hollow gaze as he got up and left the room was enough to make the smile disappear however.

Sighing, Marco headed to the kitchen where his mother would be. He atleast knew one person still loved him after this whole ordeal. He found her sitting at the table with a mug of tea and a crossword book in front of her. Gosh, how he loved his mother. The words she had spoken to him the day he came out still echoed through his mind occasionally. Marco had to replay them even. Every time his father left the room like he had only seconds ago, he needed that mantra to get him through it. It hurt. Even now, a month later.

He felt very bad about it still. Especially for how it affected his parent's relationship. Ever since that night, his father had taken to sleeping in the guest bedroom. Marco hated the idea that he was the sole reason his parents were sleeping in different rooms and arguing constantly. He was never on good terms with guilt.

Grabbing a drink from the fridge, Marco pushed the depressing thoughts away, and let his previous happy mood come back. It was so much easier to smile and nod as all the bad stuff went by.

"So...did you have fun tonight?"

Marco sat down across from her, lazily reaching over and filling in an answer on the crossword while he kissed her on the forehead. "Yes, it was great. Watched a real scary one though."

Mrs. del Rossi knew something other than post horror movie jitters was wrong with him. He had this odd light in his eyes. The smile he wore was different than the ones she'd seen before. He seemed genuinely happy. Something she hadn't seen ever since her husband had given him the cold shoulder.

"Really?" Sarcasm was dripping in her words now. She couldn't help it. She had to be snoopy and find out what had happened. She was his mother. She was entitled, was she not?

Marco looked up at her through his hair with a sweet smile on his face. "Really ma. Why would you think otherwise?"

"Oh."

Marco got scared all of the sudden. "Oh? What does 'oh' mean?!"

She sat in stunned silence for a moment. She had just figured it out. It was that expression, and the glow, and the lighthearted speech she hadn't heard in so long. He had a crush. And, from the looks of it, he had it bad.

"How long have you liked Dylan, and why haven't you told me!" she asked with a very accomplished smile gracing her lips.

Marco, horrified, jumped up and pretended to busy himself with the dirty dishes in the sink. "What makes you think I like Dylan at all?"

"Marco honey, I'm a woman. We just know these things. Call it a gift." Mrs. del Rossi got up from her spot at the table, mug and booklet in hand, and went to stand beside her son at the sink.

He looked over at her with big sheepish eyes. "Um...ever since I met him I guess."

She smiled real big and drew him into a hug. Pulling back, brushing hair away from his eyes, she said, "Whatever happens...I support you honey. I may have only spoken to him a couple of times, but I can tell he is a wonderful boy."

Marco beemed. "Thank you." he whispered. "Actually, erm, can I go out tomorrow night?"

"Did he ask you out?" Marco's blush was all the answer she needed. She kissed him on the forehead then pulled out of the embrace. "You have permission."

"Alright." He looked back at the doorway to the living room. He could still see his father rising to leave in his mind. "What about...?"

Mrs. del Rossi grinned and thwapped him on the head with her rolled up book. "Forget your fuddy duddy father. He will come 'round. And until then, he can just suck it up. For once, you're allowed to listen to what one parent says even if it contradicts the other. You're father is being stupid."

Marco nodded mutely and hauled himself up to sit on the counter. "I still feel horrible though. I grew up my whole life wanting to be perfect for him. And now..." he stopped grasping for words to describe his misery. "And now I'm less than dirt in his eyes for something I can't help."

He looked up into his mother's loving eyes. "I cannot tell you how long I tried to ignore it. Tried to pretend it didn't exist...will it away. But it never left. It stuck around and mocked me. I'm a complete failure to pa..."

"Honey, you're father grew up surrounded by old ideas. Ideas...that nowadays make no sense whatsoever. I hate what his reaction is doing to you. And I am trying to make him see. I'd like to think I'm pretty close to making him understand."

Marco looked down at the floor and whispered "It's like he's condemning me for...having brown eyes. It's so unfair. I mean....I shouldn't feel ashamed, right? But I am. All the time. Everytime he gives me that disappointed look...I just want to go bury myself in some shallow ditch. I never meant to hurt him in this way."

Mrs. del Rossi reached forward and cradled her son's face in her hands. "Never...I repeat, never feel ashamed. Especially because of your father. You are a wonderful, beautiful, perfect person and your father has simply not woken up to that fact yet. But he will."

The noise of a clearing throat was heard from the kitchen doorway, and both occupants in the kitchen jumped. Looking up from his spot on the counter, over his mother's shoulder, Marco nearly died from humiliation.

There his father stood, looking at them both with that blank expression. And then , as if in slow motion, the man stepped forward and took his son in an embrace. "I accept you as you are. And I am so sorry." He turned to his wife. "Will you take an old man's apology?"

"My apology is not the one you should be asking for."

He nodded and turned to Marco. "She is right. I still love you. I never stopped. I have never been more sorry in my entire life. I made you feel horrible over something you couldn't control. And most importantly, something that shouldn't matter in the first place. I look forward to sitting down and speaking to this Dylan sometime. You tell him he has to get through me first." Marco gave a watery smile and chuckle before he pulled his father into another hug.

God...this was really happening. Happiness wasn't totally elusive after all.

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Quick poll. Is this story too girly/sappy or otherwise out of character? I dunno. It seems that way...but then again not. So...I ask you, faithful reader...help me out. :)

R&R