Title: Study Break

Disclaimer: Don't own Degrassi. :(

Summary: Dylan decides that he and Marco need a break from studying.

My eyes darted from my laptop screen, where that little annoying blinking thing on the page seemed to be mocking me relentlessly, over to Marco, who was sitting at the other end of the couch pouring over some textbook.

I returned my gaze to the screen.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

Stupid little blinky black line thing. It knew perfectly well that I could not, for the life of me, conjure up the words I need to complete the stupid essay I was supposed to be writing. Or even start it. The blinky black line thing hovered at the 'K' at the end of my name, which was all I'd typed so far.

Blink. Blink.

And now the rest of the blank page was laughing at me, too.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

"Gargh," I growled, pushing the laptop away from me. Marco looked up in surprise.

"You okay, Dyl?"

I rubbed my eyes wearily. "Fine."

Marco returned to his book, and I sighed. Then my face brightened as I was graced with an idea. I scooted myself over to where Marco was sitting and peered over his shoulder at his book.

"So, what'cha reading?" I asked, skimming over the first few lines.

"The most boring book in history. About history," he groaned, not taking his eyes off the page.

"Ah," I said, leaning in a bit closer. Mmm. He sure smelled good.

After a few moments of me not moving, he looked up.

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

"Nope. No problem," I beamed. I still didn't go back to my side of the couch. His side was definitely more preferable. My side…well, didn't have him on it.

"Do you…need something?" Marco asked, obviously disconcerted by my odd behavior.

"Actually, now that you mention it…" I said, taking his book from his grasp and setting it aside.

"Hey, you just lost my page!" he protested.

"Forget about studying," I said, sliding even closer and whispering into his ear. "Let's have some fun."

"Fun? No, I don't have time for fun," he said, pulling away and picking his book back up. He began to sift through the pages back to where he had been reading.

"There's always time for fun," I said, placing my larger hand over his to stop him from turning the pages. "Come on, Del Rossi."

"Dylan, I have a test to study for. I can't fail it," he said desperately.

"Oh, like you've ever failed anything in your life," I rolled my eyes. "You'll ace it. You know you will."

He pulled his hand out from under mine, and continued to flip through the book. "Not if I don't study," he replied.

"Marco…" I sang teasingly. I began to nibble on his ear, and he gave a funny little shiver.

"Dylan, stop," he said irritably.

"Now, I know you don't actually mean that."

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," he said firmly, swatting me away.

I scowled, then shrugged. "Fine. Have it your way."

"Thank you."

I sighed and leaned back into the couch. "It sure is hot in here," I remarked nonchalantly. Marco raised an eyebrow, but didn't look up. I frowned, then, excruciatingly slowly, began to peel off my T-shirt. When Marco did not so much as glance up, I tossed the shirt on top of his book. Now, he glared up at me, irritated.

"It's not going to work, Dylan," he said, throwing the shirt back at me. "Will you leave me alone and let me study, please?"

I rolled my eyes, making a face at him.

"Oh, very mature," he said sarcastically.

"Thank you."

He went back to his stupid book, and I sat there, arms crossed, frowning at the blank TV screen in front of me. After an entire minute, I discreetly started to scoot back over to Marco. There was no way he couldn't notice, but he was deliberately ignoring me now. That was, until, I started to slowly massage the inside of his thigh.

He sighed, closing his eyes in what I'd like to believe was pleasure or lust, but was probably more like impatience. "Dylan. Cut it out." Yep, it was impatience.

"Cut what out?" I asked innocently.

"You know what."

"Mmm, no," I shook my head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Move your hand," he said hotly.

I shrugged. "If you wish, love." My hand went higher to stroke him through his pants instead, and his eyes jerked open.

"I didn't mean― will you stop!"

"Your mouth says stop. Your body, on the other hand…" I grinned.

He shoved my hand away. "Dylan, I mean it. I need to study," he said insistently.

"Do it later," I whined. "Come on, you know you can't resist this face." I batted my eyelashes, flashing him my most charming smile.

"Uh, yes. Actually I can," he said resolutely.

"Well, you can't resist this, then." My tongue traced around his ear before my teeth gently bit down on it.

He swallowed hard. "Can too."

I happily began planting a trail of tiny kisses down his jaw, then his neck, stopping to suck on the sensitive spot I knew drove him crazy.

"Dylan!"

"See? You so love it," I said smugly.

He pushed me off him, but I couldn't help but notice how his breath hitched when he spoke. "No, I meant 'Dylan!' as in get off!"

"My pleasure."

"Leave me alone!" he shrieked.

"Oh, that get off."

"Dylan!"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

I pretended to be hurt. "Aw, that hurt my feelings. I think I need a kiss to make it better."

"Will that shut you up?" Marco demanded.

I beamed. "Yep."

"Fine." He leaned over to kiss me chastely on the lips. He started to pull back again, but taking him by surprise, I pulled him down on top of me and fell back against the cushions.

"Just can't control yourself around me, can you, you animal?" I joked, grinning. He tried to push himself up, but I held on tight.

"Let me up," he ordered after realizing that he was getting nowhere fast.

"Hmm, let me think about that…"

"Dylan!"

"No," I said simply, fighting the urge to laugh at his infuriation with me.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" he asked, struggling against my grip. Being stronger than him definitely had its benefits.

"I would have thought the meaning was obvious, Mr. Valedictorian."

He moaned. "Dylan, I've got to study."

"So do I," I shrugged. "The Anatomy of Marco Del Rossi. My favorite class," I said matter-of-factly.

The corners of his lips twitched. "Well, you'd definitely get an A in that class," he muttered.

My smirk widened. "Come on, you know you want to…" I whispered seductively.

He rolled his eyes. "I can't, okay?"

"Look, you've already spent a good ten minutes arguing with me. The faster you give in, the faster you can get back to studying," I pointed out.

"And what makes you think I'm going to give in?" he asked indignantly.

"Please," I said. One of the arms I had wrapped around his back slid lower, and I gave his butt a playful squeeze. "You don't stand a chance."

"Dylan…" he began again, but I wouldn't allow it. I awkwardly managed to roll us over on the narrow couch cushions so that he was pinned beneath my weight. He definitely wasn't going anywhere now.

He squirmed, trying halfheartedly to push me off again. I wouldn't have any of that, either. I easily pinned his arms above his head, much to his obvious displeasure, then returned to my previous ministrations on his neck.

"Get― off― me," he grunted, but he was arching his neck into the pleasure my lips and tongue were providing. Ha. I knew he loved it.

"No thanks." My free hand was under his shirt now, and my lips were covering his, preventing them from uttering even another word of protest. I released his arms long enough to remove his shirt, then before he could react to having his hands free, I had restrained him again.

He gave a quickly muffled moan, and though he would undoubtedly say that it was a moan of misery or something, I knew better. I could feel him getting hard as I teased him, and knew that, whatever he said, he wanted this too. And he thought he could fool me. Yeah right. The evidence of his desire spoke for itself.

"Let's get these off, shall we?" I tugged at the waistband of his jeans, and he simply glared up at me, and didn't say anything. I knew perfectly well what was with the sudden silence, too. He was enjoying this far too much to protest anymore.

I slid his jeans off of him with an effortlessness that only came with experience, and threw them behind me where Marco's book had been discarded. Unnecessary impediments. As were Marco's boxers, which quickly joined that pile.

There. That was better.

I continued to toy with him, biting down on his shoulder, running my tongue across his nipples and plunging it inside his belly button. No way would he consider stopping now. All the while I slowly made my way further down to my destination. He was biting his lip, determined not to let me know how much he was enjoying himself.

Finally, I reached my goal, and ran my tongue down his length, just to drive him wild. He faltered in his efforts not to react, however, and gave a kind of strangled whimper of sorts. Deciding to see what kind of reaction I got, I made to take him fully into my mouth, but he stopped me.

"Don't," he muttered. I looked up. No way. He was actually stopping me now?

"What?" was pretty much all my befuddled brain could come up with.

"I said don't," he repeated.

"Marco―"

"I mean don't, I― just― take off the clothes, Michalchuk," he ordered, and I finally understood. I did as I was told, and fifteen seconds later, I was proudly baring it all.

"Wait― condoms," he said. Count on Marco to be sensible, even in lustful, heat-of-the-moment affairs like this one. Well, I guess one of us had to be.

"In my wallet―" I scrambled for my dismissed jeans, and retrieved my wallet from the back pocket. Sure enough, I found what I was looking for.

Marco had gone back to his previous task of not reacting to my touch. Nonetheless, the tiniest of gasps could be heard when I carefully inserted a finger in him, then again when I slid in the second one. By the third, he had finally managed to get his reactions under control, and barely even blinked.

Deciding that he was good and stretched enough, I pulled my fingers out and tore open the condom with my teeth. I slipped it on, and positioned myself above him. There was no way he couldn't react to this.

Sure enough, he squirmed a bit on the couch, and a small grunt could be heard beneath our ragged breathing. I waited a few moments for him to get used to me, then pulled almost all the way out of him, only to slam back in again. Marco had found my hand and was squeezing it tightly, the only evidence that I was affecting him at all. The only evidence, that is, except for his throbbing erection, which I took in my free hand, matching the rhythm with my thrusts.

Marco's head was back, his eyes were closed, and I thought that I had never seen anything more beautiful than him in that moment, lost in the extraordinary sensations. It was a unique side of Marco that only I ever got to see. I got to watch him completely lose himself in the moment. In the feeling and passion we created. Of course, I'd never admit to thinking like this. The whole mushy, romantic crap isn't really my thing. But I could always appreciate him like this, just to myself. No one ever had to know that my thought process sometimes mirrored a romantic novel.

I was nearing my edge now, and judging by the increased pressure on the hand Marco was grasping, so was he. I gave a last, final thrust, and came, spilling into the heat of my boyfriend. Marco followed shortly after. I pulled out of him fell on top of him, being careful not to squish him. As our breathing finally started to return to normal, I turned slightly to face him.

"I've got to admit, you've got some self-control, Del Rossi," I commended him.

"Thanks. But I'm still mad at you," he scowled.

"What?" I said in disbelief. "After all that? Are you kidding me? You are kidding me, right?"

He smirked, relenting. "Guilty as charged."

I rolled my eyes. "Jerk. Don't you have a test to study for or something?"

"Yes. The Anatomy of Dylan Michalchuk," he replied.

I laughed. "Ten minutes ago, that history test was your life," I pointed out.

"Ten minutes ago, you weren't lying on top of me naked." Then again, he made a valid point, too.

"Yeah, and you know, I think I could use another lesson in my Marco class," I joked. "Make sure I'm ready for my final exam and everything. School is very important, after all."

"Maybe we need to pull an all-nighter, then?" he suggested.

"Really? I mean, you're seriously ditching your homework?" I arched an eyebrow in disbelief.

He shrugged. "Well, unlike the crap they're shoving down our throats at university, I figure The Anatomy of Dylan is a class I'll actually use in my day-to-day life."

I grinned, leaning down to kiss him lightly. "And it will never get boring," I winked.

I got up and pulled Marco to his feet, and we raced upstairs. My laptop was left running, our clothes were strewn all over, and Marco's book had fallen open to some random page and lay on the floor. It was pretty much a wreck, but we were in far too much of a hurry to bother to clean up after ourselves. No one would be home for hours, anyway. We had the entire evening to ourselves. Too bad real schoolwork wasn't this much fun.

Review, please :D