Author's Note: So, I'm hoping I'll be able to update this quickly since I am having company this weekend. Hopefully, they don't get here until late. :)

"Come on. We can make it," said Craig, holding Marco up against him as they walked out of the club, giggling to themselves.

"Suuure, we can," said Marco, falling again into his friend. "I think I might be…uh drunk," he commented, steadying himself as best he could.

"Really?" asked Craig a bit sarcastically, hoping he could remember where to go from here. He was so out of it that he'd be surprised if he could get them across the street, but he knew he was far better off than his friend, and Marco was counting on that.

Craig could feel himself getting dizzier, and he could only imagine how bad Marco had it. When they left the club, Marco informed him that he 'was going blind'. Although Craig was sure that wasn't the case, he had to get the exhausted boy back home.

They'd gotten across that street in a daze, and Craig was feeling pretty proud of himself. Drunk as he might have been, he could still find his way around…somewhat. However, he wasn't feeling so proud anymore when he turned around to see Marco leaning against the building next to him. He tried to help him up, thinking he had fallen, but Marco ripped his hand away, tears coming to his eyes.

Craig sighed. What was he to do now? He couldn't very well leave him there to cry, but Marco wouldn't get up. He supposed he had to comfort him.

Craig gently touched Marco's arm, waiting to be rebuked again or pushed away, but Marco just shook lightly, and then took his hand. Craig saw this as a sign to be allowed to help him up, but apparently, the blow of sitting down and getting back up made Marco's nausea worse.

Craig winced at the sound of Marco leaning over, retching…right on his shoes. He had to be okay with it because with Marco's crying and throwing up, he needed to be there to make him feel better. He just didn't really have many ideas.

"Marco," he said, rubbing the smaller boy's back as he struggled to stand, sound as if he was going to choke to death. "It's okay," he said, having a lack of better words.

After a few moments of the absolutely horrid sound of Marco's body rejecting the alcohol, Craig watched as he sat against the wall, his head on his knees, too worn-out out walk any further.

Craig sound down next to him, trying to pretend that the awful smell wasn't bothering him as much as he was trying to keep his own body together as well. He put his hand on Marco's shoulder to let him know he was there, but he felt bad…knowing that, after all those times Marco had been there for him with sweet words of comfort and compassion, Craig had nothing but a pat on the shoulder for him.

"You deserve better," he said, realizing that was something.

Marco, who still had his head on his knees wearily, lifted his eyes up to meet Craig's with an almost smile. "Thanks," he whispered. "I don't deserve too much at the moment, though."

"Particularly now," said Craig, disagreeing. "Come," he said, reaching out his hand, looking dizzily at the other boy. At least Marco had gotten a lot out of his system. Maybe he felt better.

He took a good look at him, the best he could anyway, and saw his tear stained cheeks, his face looking pale, contrasting with his normal dark skinned body, and his half-closed eyes, still ready for more tears. Okay, he probably didn't feel better actually.

Craig let his arm hang over Marco's shoulder, holding the both of them steady as they reluctantly started walking home again. Marco leaned his head onto Craig's shoulder, and taking Craig's hand that had been over his shoulder, he forced it to wrap it around his waist. Craig looked at his hand, confused. He supposed Marco just wanted more support, so he tightened his arm around him.

It was later than two in the morning when they arrived back at Marco's place. Marco's. No longer Dylan and Marco's. Just Marco's. Actually, it could probably be labeled Ellie's, Paige's, and Marco's, but that just didn't sound as depressing as Marco's seemed to.

Craig helped Marco into the house, feeling suddenly giddy as he realized all of the lights were off, and they were crashing into furniture. Why this made him laugh, he did not know. The light switched on, ending their laughter.

"What are you two doing?" asked Paige, standing at the top of the stairs with a blue robe on. "I thought we might have had burglars, but they would have been quieter, I'm sure," she said, walking down the stairs, annoyed.

"God, you're not drunk, Marco," she said, her annoyance clearly fading a bit at this little tidbit of information.

Marco smiled up at her toothily, laying down comfortably on the couch, though she could see that he'd been crying. Before she could give her concerns, though, Craig laughed. "He's sleeping."

"That was quick," she laughed as well. "Well, good-night, Craig."

"Good-night," he said, turning the light back off while Paige walked up to her room again. He looked at Marco's sleeping form on the couch, lightly kissing his forehead. He didn't know why he did it, but he was drunk. When you're drunk, no one cares about what strange things you do or why you do them.

Craig walked upstairs to the guest bedroom he was to be sleeping in, and wondered why going out was what people did when they were depressed about lost loves because all that they had gotten out of it was Marco throwing up in the street…and a nice dance together, of course. At least, Craig didn't get sick.

Craig hesitated on that thought, running out of his bedroom to the bathroom two doors down to get the beer out of his system. At least…they had a nice dance?

"Get up, sleepyhead," said Paige, knocking on Craig's door. It wasn't the nicest thing she could have done, but it was amusing. "Okay, seriously, come on…I have some coffee for you."

Craig groaned, shoving his head deeper into the pillow. What time was it? He pulled one eye out of the pillow, carefully avoiding getting too much sunlight in the eye, and realized it was already eleven-thirty.

"Wow," he said, deciding, no matter how much of a headache he had, he was going to be forced to grin and bear it after eleven-thirty.

Craig rolled grumpily out of bed, opening the bedroom door. Paige smiled brightly at him, already showered and dressed. "Mornin'," she said again, holding out the mug of coffee she brought for him.

He ran his hands through his hair tiredly. "Where are the others?" he asked.

"Oh, I see how much you love me," she rolled her eyes teasingly. "They're eating."

The two of them walked downstairs together, Craig sipping his coffee, and Paige looking down at her feet as they traveled to the dining room. Marco, similarly had a cup of coffee in front of him, but rather than drinking it, he was simply staring into it while Alex sat next to him, reading a book, surprising Craig. He had heard she'd changed quite a bit since he left, but he didn't expect her to be reading books during her free time.

"How is it, Alex?" asked Paige, taking a seat next to her girlfriend. Obviously, Paige had asked her to read it. Now it made sense.

Ellie and Paige were the only two actually eating, and she smiled sadly at him when he got into a chair, but said nothing.

Marco still hadn't looked up from his coffee, twirling a spoon around inside of it slowly, looking more depressed than the night before. Apparently, the drinking hadn't exactly done wonders for him.

"Not having a good morning, eh?" asked Paige sympathetically.

Something in Ellie noticeably clicked at that moment. "Marco! Why didn't you say something?! I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry," she said quickly, rushing over to the empty seat next to him, confusing them all but Craig. He had just remembered too.

"Happy birthday!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms tightly around her best friend. She kissed his cheek, letting go. Marco smiled gratefully, but she could tell he didn't look happy. "Forget about him, Marco. You're so much better than him."

"You are," Craig agreed. "Happy birthday."

Alex and Paige gave similar celebratory tidings, and Paige said that they should have a party the next weekend as a belated birthday present. "I'm sorry," she said, biting her lip, "that we forgot. We've just all had so much on our minds."

"Yeah," said Marco, picking up his coffee, looking directly at Craig. "I have too."

Why did he have to look so horrible? Why had everyone remembered Paige's birthday, Dylan's birthday, Ashley's birthday, Jimmy's birthday…Marco had even given him a call in Vancouver for Craig's birthday, and they had all discussed 'Earth Day' as well. Why hadn't they acknowledged Marco's? It didn't seem fair.

Craig assumed that the sad look on Marco's face had nothing to do with his friends' carelessness. Truthfully, he probably didn't even care. All that it came down to was: those sad eyes were for Dylan, and he wasn't even there to see them. Craig knew he had to do something to make it all better, but he didn't think a party was going to work.

"You sure you two don't want anything to eat?" Paige asked, getting on her jacket. She and Alex were going out for a late lunch…more like a dinner. Marco and Craig hadn't even been interested in breakfast.

"It's fine. Go have fun," Marco assured them.

"You could come with," Alex suggested. "We really don't mind." Alex was really only referring to Marco.

"No, thanks," said Marco. "Being a third wheel while you two act all 'couply' wouldn't make me feel any better."

Craig frowned. "You guys go ahead. Ellie's decided to leave us for some 'secret meeting' with Jesse," he rolled his eyes. "We don't mind being alone."

Ellie rushed down the stairs, combing her hair as she ran. "It's not," she pulled her own jacket on, "a secret meeting, loser."

Craig laughed, glad that they seemed to be getting along all right. Maybe he and Ellie could actually make a friendship work. "Bye, guys," she said, walking out after Alex and Paige.

"Soo," said Marco, leaning against the door. "Want to watch television or something?" he asked, shrugging.

"I'm sorry people take you for granted," said Craig.

"Wha—what?" asked Marco, confused. Now that Craig was sober, the random cute statements weren't quite as excusable.

"I'm sorry I'm one of those people," he went on, moving closer.

"O—okay," said Marco, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm—I'm sorry," said Craig, "for getting you drunk last night."

"Craig," said Marco, raising his voice a little. "Craig, I wanted to. Why are you being weird?"

Craig moved even closer, and entwined his fingers with Marco's. Marco's eyes widened, wondering what the hell was going on. The dancing was one thing, but Craig looked completely conscious with this act.

"I'm sorry I'm being weird," he said, leaning forward to kiss Marco.

Marco didn't move away from the kiss, completely caught off guard. He let their entwined hands hang by his side. His other hand came to rest on the back of Craig's neck. If he was going to kiss him, he wasn't going to turn him down.

"Wait," said Marco, pulling away from him. Craig looked at him, waiting, just as he was told he had to do. "Wait," he said again, "you…you know what you're doing?"

Craig shrugged. "Yeah. I'm going to kiss you," he leaned in again, but Marco turned his head away.

"I'm a guy, and you're straight."

"I've never been too sure about that," said Craig, leaning forward again.

Marco looked at him, bewildered. "What?"

"Please let me kiss you," said Craig pleadingly.

Well, at least he knew what he was doing.

Author's Note: Please review :)