Title: An Honest Mistake

Ellie shut the front door quietly behind her as she crept into the house. She didn't want to wake her roommates if they were sleeping, as it was fairly late. She silently made her way to the kitchen for a quick midnight snack. Well, not so much a midnight snack as a two A.M. one, but that was besides the point. She poured herself a glass of milk, stacked some cookies on a plate, and balanced them carefully in one hand while grabbing her magazine off the table with the other. Then she headed for the stairs, planning on enjoying the snack in her room and then reading celebrity gossip until she fell asleep.

Tiptoeing across the hard tiled floor, she passed the living room on her way to the staircase, and froze at what she heard.

"Mmm, that feels so good, Dylan. That's the spot."

Ellie's eyes widened. Marco's voice had that deep, sultry tone to it that only Dylan could draw from him. Had she just walked in on them―? Oh, God. She had to get out of there. Fast.

"We really should do this more often. You're so great at it," Marco continued.

Dylan gave a throaty chuckle. "Thanks."

"Mmm…" Marco moaned.

"Feel good?"

"Yeah…harder, though…ah, yeah…"

Oh, God. Just no. This couldn't be happening. Ellie wasn't sure what to do. If she was lucky, she could just continue on upstairs, and neither of her roommates would be any the wiser. But that was if she was lucky. And she knew better than that by now.

Maybe they weren't even doing anything. She didn't know that for sure. Just because Marco was all moan-y and their comments could possibly suggest it, didn't mean that― that― was what they were doing. Perhaps she simply had an overactively dirty― and apparently gay― imagination. At least, she hoped that was it.

She dared a quick, tiny peek inside the room, and almost immediately snapped her head forward again. Okay, so maybe she hadn't been imagining things.

She had no choice now but to hurry up the stairs as quickly and silently as possible, and hope Marco and Dylan hadn't noticed anything. She didn't expect they had. They'd been rather― preoccupied.

She grimaced as she slipped into her bedroom, trying desperately to erase the image of her roommate on top of her best friend from her mind. Why couldn't memories come with delete buttons?

"Ew," she muttered, pulling back the covers on her bed and climbing in. She left her snack and magazine on her desk. She wasn't really hungry now, and the magazine articles hadn't looked that interesting, anyway. She closed her eyes, trying to will away the image that had now burned itself on the inside of her eyelids, and fell asleep.

"What's up with Ellie?" Marco asked, frowning as his friend merely brushed past him with out even a good morning. Without even looking at him, actually.

Dylan shrugged. "Maybe she's got an early class she's going to be late for?"

Marco shook his head. "Not for another hour."

"Boyfriend troubles?"

"None that she's told me about," said Marco in puzzlement. "Did I do something to make her hate me?"

Dylan smiled, taking advantage of the perfect flirting opportunity and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend from behind.

"Nah, you can't have. You're way too cute to hate. It's like trying to stay mad at a puppy." Dylan pecked him on the cheek, and Marco smiled.

"I'll ask her later," he said.

"Mmm," said Dylan, not really listening. He was busy kissing up and down Marco's neck and bare shoulders, which were the perfect height to allow his lips easy access. How convenient.

Marco leaned his head back into Dylan, closing his eyes. "You know, last night was great. We should do definitely do that again soon."

"Yeah," agreed Dylan. "But this time you're doing me."

"Fair enough. But you're so good at it. You do it hard enough that it feels good, but gentle enough that it doesn't hurt. I don't want to hurt you or anything. I've never really done it to anyone before."

"You won't hurt me," Dylan promised. "It's easy. I'll show you what to do. No worries."

"Hey, El," Marco nervously approached his friend, who was stretched out on the couch watching TV.

She looked up at the sound of her name. "Yeah?"

"I wanted to talk to you," the Italian said.

Ellie shrugged. "Okay. About what?"

"Can I sit down?"

The red head pulled her legs up to give her friend room to sit on the end cushion.

"What's up?"

"Well―" Marco began. "Are you… are you mad at me or something?" he asked awkwardly.

Ellie looked surprised. "Mad at you? No. Why, should I be?" she asked, suddenly suspicious.

"No," he said hurriedly. "But, you've kind of been acting weird. Avoiding me and everything. I was just wondering if things were okay between us."

Ellie's face suddenly looked oddly flushed. "Oh. No, we're okay."

"Then, what's going on?" Marco prompted.

She avoided his eyes. "Nothing."

"Ellie―"

"Look, just drop it, okay?" She felt rather cornered now. She would gladly give anything she owned not to have to tell him the reason she had been avoiding him the past few days. Unfortunately, Marco was not giving up.

"Come on, I know something's up. What is it?" he asked, concerned.

"It's nothing, Marco." Why did her friend have to care about her so much? "Really, everything's good."

For a split second, his eyes darted down to where her shirtsleeve fell over her scarred forearm. She knew immediately what was on his mind. "It's not that," she said quietly.

"Then what is it? Are you okay?" he demanded.

"I'm fine," she said firmly. She'd rather rip out her own tongue than have to tell him, but if he was going to think she was in some kind of trouble, Ellie really didn't see any other choice but to tell him. "Look, I― I got home really late last night, and I―"

"You what?"

Ellie sighed in frustration. "I saw you and Dylan in the living room," she finally blurted. She held her breath, waiting for her friend's reaction.

To her surprise, he didn't look the least bit abashed. She had expected him to be mortified, but he'd hardly reacted at all. If anything, she decided, he merely looked confused.

"So?" he said simply.

Ellie's eyebrows rose in shock. "So? What do you mean 'so'?"

"I mean, so what's the big deal?" asked Marco, obviously bewildered. "So, you saw us."

"Uh, yeah," said Ellie, quite confused herself. "You don't care?"

Now Marco looked surprised. "Why would I care?"

"Well, typically, people like a bit of privacy when they're― you know…" she said. Why was she getting the feeling that she was more embarrassed than Marco about this whole thing?

"Wait…wait a minute," he said slowly. "Are we― talking about the same thing here?" The hint of a smile played on his lips. He had a feeling he knew what was going on now. "What exactly did you see?"

"I saw― you two," Ellie said awkwardly. "On the couch. Dylan was, well…you were…weren't you guys―?"

To Ellie's further shock, Marco let out a bark of laughter. "He was giving me a massage, El. That's all."

Ellie blinked. Massage?

"What?" she said dimly. "A massage?"

Marco was still giggling. "Yeah. I told him how sore my back and shoulders were, and he gave me a massage. What did you think we were doing?"

Ellie blushed furiously. "I thought― I mean, he was― it looked like―" she sputtered. "I saw him― well, he was kind of on top of you…and you were all like, moaning and everything­―and I just thought―"

"No!" Marco assured her quickly. "It was just a massage, El."

"Oh."

"So, that's why you haven't even looked at me for two days?" asked Marco, finally understanding, feeling rather relieved.

Ellie nodded miserably, burying her head in her arms. "Sorry. God, I can't believe I thought--"

Marco snorted. "It was an honest mistake." This might have come off as a bit more of a sympathetic comment if the Italian hadn't been gasping for breath in between gales of laughter.

"Oh, shut up," Ellie snapped. "It was a little misunderstanding. With the way you two are always all over each other, it wasn't really a far leap to think that that's what you were doing."

Marco sighed, wiping a tear from his eye. "Ah, just wait until I tell Dyl."

END