Tim closed the door behind him as Marco led the way inside the house. In the kitchen, Tim nodded politely to Mrs. Del Rossi who had waited patiently at the table to return home. He still felt incredibly guilty for causing such a commotion in her home last night and this morning. Having been so caught up in his own chaotic feelings, he'd forgotten how selfless and generous she'd been. Of course, now it was too completely awkward for him to apologize. Maybe he could make it up to her by helping out, washing dishes or yard work or something. Shifting uncomfortably, he restlessly played with the Velcro on the strap of his bookbag. Mrs. Del Rossi smiled warmly at them both before wishing them a good night and retiring to bed.

Marco shrugged off his jacket and set the car keys on the counter before leading Tim out of the room. Their living room was kind of a mess at the moment with templates for Mr. Del Rossi's printing supplies, or whatever they were. Glancing at them, Marco felt a surge of anger. Join him in the family business indeed. At times, Marco felt that no matter what he did, it just wasn't good enough for his father. And yet, what teenager didn't feel that way at least once? Taking a few more steps, Marco paused when he realized Tim was no longer following him and looked over his shoulder.

Tim had lifted his backpack over his head and set it on the carpet next to the sofa, he was now sitting on, hugging his knees to his chest. Marco couldn't help but chuckle to see him sitting there, looking so… emo. Shaking his head, he looked over at Tim and asked, "What are you doing?"

Looking up at Marco incredulously, Tim frowned. Glancing behind him out of habit, he searched for an answer. "Uh... what do you mean?"

Marco walked over with a small smile and picked up Tim's bag with the intention of carrying it to his room. "There's no way I'm making you spend the night in here," Marco said definitively, "It's a mess, and kind of creepy," he said honestly, trying to joke. Tim just blinked at him and shrugged, starting to follow him and not knowing where he was supposed to sleep if not the living room. As if reading his mind, Marco answered the question. "You can sleep in my bed."

Tim stopped in his tracks and did a double take. As Marco turned around quickly, realizing what he'd said, Tim raised an eyebrow, somewhat alarmed. Nevermind the fact that his heart started beating twice its normal pace. Tim half wondered that if Marco mean what Tim knew he didn't, if he would be able to refuse.

"I mean, by yourself!" Marco clarified quickly. "You can have my bed and I'll sleep somewhere else. I have a sleeping bag, I'll be fine," he nodded fervently, more to reassure himself that his guest.

However, Tim shook his head. After all Marco's done for him, even if he'd originally been lied to, he couldn't let Marco do that. "No, it's okay. I can't kick you out of your room," he insisted.

Sighing with exasperation, Marco countered, "You won't be. I'm offering and I'm sure you need the rest." Still, it seemed Tim could be just as stubborn as he was, and he wouldn't budge. "Fine," Marco said finally. "We'll both sleep on the floor; I'll get sleeping bags from the other room." Clearly that had to be a guilt-free solution for both of them, but Tim still looked uncomfortable and Marco looked at him, slightly confused. "What?"

"It's just…" Tim started nervously, "I don't think your dad'll be so into us sleeping in the same room." He knew his own father would have flipped out if he a friend had a little sleepover in his room, and that was before he even knew Tim was gay. Just being able to stay here was a blessing, and he didn't want to do or even agree to anything that might mess that up. Especially if it meant making Mr. Del Rossi angry.

Marco looked down and closed his eyes for a moment before looking back up at Tim sadly. "Look, I said don't worry about it, alright? You're not going to have to be scared of i anything /i while you're in this house, okay?" Marco understood that he was scared. It was those same fears that forced Marco into hiding, first from his friends, then from his father. However, as far as he could tell there was no where to go but up from here, right?

Tim smiled that cute little smile he had a habit of smiling and nodded. It was nice to feel… safe. For the first time in years.

Jumping up to reach the top of the closet, Marco pulled down two giant sleeping bags that hadn't been used since a disastrous camping trip a few years back. Tim failed to suppress a small bit of laughter, finding the situation a little bit funny; he could've reached to get the bags down if Marco had asked. Marco simply turned around to look at him with that What's So Funny? face, but he couldn't help allowing a small smile himself. Okay, so he was little. He still had a few years to grow, right? Of course. He was sure a growth-spurt was somewhere on its way, even at seventeen, he hadn't given up hope.

Handing the blue one to Tim and setting down the tan one for himself, both boys started to untie and unroll them. It was only awkward for a minute or two before Marco thought of how they were going to work out a changing situation and had a revelation. Blinking, he looked up and said, "You don't have any pajamas."

Tim bit his lip. "No… I don't. It's okay, I'll just sleep in my clothes," he offered. He really didn't want to be an inconvenience and risk being kicked out again. Anything would be better than going back home.

Marco shook his head and pulled out an extra t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants he thought might be long enough. "Mm-mm," he uttered in a not-committal noise of disapproval. "You're my guest. We're doing this right, this time," he stated firmly, but kindly. How could he make Tim understand that he was wanted when his own family didn't seem to want him? "But…"

Tim looked at him, alarmed. But what?

"We're going to have to go to your house tomorrow to get your clothes, and you probably want some stuff…"

Tim didn't know whether to be glad that this meant he was staying, or upset that it meant returning home. He completely froze for a moment and his back stiffened. "No, I told you," he answered, shaking his head fervently, "I can't go back there, Marco. I can't."

"Look, Tim," Marco continued, "As easy as it would make deciding what to wear in the morning, you can't keep wearing the same clothes every day." Tim blinked slowly and looked down, knowing he was right. But going home meant facing- "Hey, I'll go with you, okay? And if you want we can bring Craig... and Paige… whoever, all ri-"

"No," Tim interrupted. "We're going while he's at work. I can sneak in and be out and he'll never have to know. Ever."

Sitting back, Marco was slightly disappointed, though who was he to give Tim this sort of advice? It had backfired on him once, so maybe Tim really did know what was best for him. That would work for now, as long as Tim had whatever he needed. "Okay," he relented. "You can go and change in the bathroom," he said, pointing the way.

As Tim left the room, Marco quickly undressed and put his own bedclothes on. It was true that when Marco first decided to help Simpson with the skit, it was because he might have had a tiny crush on 'the new kid.' Since then, he'd screwed the whole thing up, though, and what would become of it now? He couldn't very well come on to the boy while he was having such a hard time and living in his house, for God's sake. Tim needed a mentor now, not a boyfriend, Marco reminded himself. Climbing into his sleeping bag, he was nearly asleep when Tim walked in.

Sadly, he wondered if Marco would ever see him as something more than a whiny, needy kid.

That night, they slept on the floor on adjacent sides of the bed, with their heads meeting at the corner and Tim's hat thrown carelessly onto Marco's dresser.