Author's Note: Okay, here it is…and I'm sorry that it's a really bad chapter. I'm sorry :(

"I thought," said Marco, pulling away to take the occasional breath as Craig held him against the door, "that I wasn't allowed to kiss you this time."

Craig laughed, enjoying the feeling of Marco's lips on his too much to care. "Well," he said, breathing raggedly, "I kissed you."

Well, if that was his logic, Marco figured he could try to deal with it. After all, he was used to people overruling him on most matters. "You can't just 'turn' gay. Trust me, I tried to," his lips were caught again, "turn straight."

"I know," Craig growled, obviously not wanting to have the conversation at that time. Craig was never one for talking when kissing was the other option. "I just…don't," he said brokenly. "Coming home."

Marco broke away completely after that. "What?" he asked, bewildered.

Craig took Marco's hand, dragging him unwillingly up the stairs, with Marco crying 'what?' the entire time.

He took Marco into his and Dylan's bedroom, slamming it behind them. As soon as they were in, Marco heard Paige's voice reverberate throughout the house.

"See?" said Craig, pointing his thumb toward the door.

"I see," said Marco, looking around the bedroom. "Craig," he started, looking down.

"Hmm?"

Marco looked at the bed Craig was currently sitting in, knowing it was his bed…the bed he and Dylan shared. He felt tears coming to his eyes, not for the first time that day. "I'm not," said Marco, his voice breaking, "in the mood anymore."

Craig saw the look on Marco's face, and he immediately understood. He hated when people cried in front of him. Normally, it was his fault, which made it even worse. He decided, right then at that moment, that he never wanted to see Marco so upset again.

"Craig," said Marco, his body shaking with sobs. "Craig, I don't know what I want," he said, wiping tears from his face. "Craig, I love him."

Craig got up from the bed, enveloping Marco into an innocent hug. "I know, Marco," he said. He didn't know what was going on with them or where they would go, but he had to respect that Marco was a man in love, and a man who had been hurt by the same person many times.

"Am I always your rebound?" Craig asked jokingly, letting Marco hold on for dear life. "Because Dylan can't see you kissing me right now."

Marco laughed into Craig's shoulder, but Craig knew it was forced. He didn't know how to comfort him! What the hell was he supposed to do? Craig honestly had to become more in touch with his feelings.

"Guys!" called Paige from the ground floor. "You here?"

"Yeah," Craig answered, making circles on Marco's back with his finger. "We're in Marco's room."

Marco started crying softly again into Craig's shirt at the mention of his room. At least, when they'd broken up the first time, Dylan had screwed him over, so Marco could be angry. Dylan was just trying to do what was right this time.

Marco gripped onto the back of Craig's t-shirt, bunching it up with his fingers. "You…you have to leave too," he realized, crying even louder, unable to contain himself any longer. "Vancouver."

Marco pulled away, and Craig looked at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry," he mouthed.

"Damn people with dreams," he said, trying to smile.

Craig wasn't sure he was supposed to laugh. He looked awkwardly around the room he was in. He glanced at the table by the bed, a picture of Marco and Dylan out on the Michalchuks' porch swing. Dylan's arm was draped around Marco, and they were ever so slowly falling asleep. It looked as though neither one had an idea that there was a picture being taken. He looked next at the picture of Marco waving up at the camera in the stands at Dylan's hockey game. Craig remembered the conversation they'd had about it on the first time Craig had visited from Vancouver.

"So, congrats," said Craig. "You're the first of us all to get your own place."

"Yeah," said Marco, rolling his eyes. "Here's our bedroom." He walked into the room, extending his hand to show the entire space.

"What's with this picture?" asked Craig, raising an eyebrow, picking up the picture of Marco waving at the camera.

"Oh," said Marco, once again rolling his eyes. "Dylan's obsessed with this picture. He has one he takes with him, and one he keeps in here."

"Not that it's not a good picture, but—"

"Yeah," Marco interrupted, "I know. There are better ones, but Dylan has his taste, I suppose."

"Did he take it?" asked Craig.

Marco nodded. "Why?"

"Sometimes guys are particularly in love with pictures they've taken," he replied, looking around the spacious room.

Marco looked offended. "Am I not a guy?" he asked, his hand on his hip.

Craig had to laugh. "Not what I meant!" he said rather uncertainly.

Marco took his phone out of his pocket, searching for the camera. He held it up to Craig. "Oh, no," said Craig, holding his hand up. Marco reached forward, pushing his hand away.

"Let me take the picture," he said, smiling. "You look cute," he said, rolling his eyes. Craig wasn't supposed to be camera shy when he was famous.

Marco captured the picture, saving it to his phone. "I'm now officially a guy because I took a picture that I like more than the others of you," he said, smirking. "Don't ever," he warned, pointing his finger in Craig's face, "refer to me as any less of a man than you."

"Takes a real man to wear pink," said Craig, pointing to the picture on the bedside.

"So, you kept that picture up there?" asked Craig.

Marco broke down again. He really wasn't good at this comforting thing. At all.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

After Marco's excruciating tears in the bedroom, Craig had walked, with Marco trailing behind, down where everyone else was. Jesse was back in the house, making Craig feel slightly awkward. Marco didn't look as though he wanted to stand in a hot kitchen with his friends, but he did so with a fake smile. Craig couldn't believe they bought his false happiness. Then again, no one ever noticed when he was acting particularly unusual. Including Craig.

"Happy birthday, Marco," said Jesse, waving unenthusiastically. Ellie must have told him.

"Thanks," Marco said quietly, sitting with them at the table. "Why do we always sit here?" he wondered aloud. "Isn't it more comfortable in the living room?"

Paige shrugged. "Marco, I talked to Dylan. He's very upset about what happened, and that's saying a lot, you know."

Marco nodded. He was glad Dylan was as lost as he was. It somehow made his day a lot brighter.

"I know," Marco answered, letting Craig sit next to him.

Craig rested his hand on Marco's knee under the table without a word. Marco didn't question it; he was just simply satisfied that someone understood he wasn't happy, and cared enough to want to be there for him.

Author's Note: Please review even though this chapter was awful! Ugh, I'm so mad at myself lol. Next one will be better.