Dylan and Milo

by SalientLane

Part 2

Family for Christmas

(title generated with the "Hallmark Christmas Movie Random Title Generator")

The November wind whistled through the bare branches outside, but inside, Dylan Lee felt warm. He sat at the kitchen table, inhaling the scent of cinnamon and apples as his foster-mom Margaret Pittman pulled a pie from the oven.

"I hope you like it, sweetie," Margaret said, her kind eyes crinkling as she smiled at him. "It was my grandmother's recipe, just slightly updated."

Dylan's heart swelled. "It smells amazing, Margaret. Thank you."

As Margaret busied herself with dessert plates, Dylan's gaze drifted to Milo, who was setting the table. Milo caught his eye and winked, sending a flutter through Dylan's chest. How could his life have changed so completely in such a short time?

"Earth to Dylan," Milo teased, waving a fork in front of his face. "You in there, space cadet?"

Dylan blushed, realizing he'd been staring. "Sorry, just… thinking."

Milo's expression softened. He placed a hand on Dylan's shoulder, his touch gentle. "Good thoughts, I hope?"

Dylan nodded, leaning into Milo's touch. "The best. How lucky I am."

As they sat down to eat, Dylan marveled at how different this all was from his old life. No tension, no fear. Just warmth and love.

But as night fell, old ghosts stirred. Dylan tossed in Milo's bed, images of his mother's face dissolving into nightmares. He jolted awake with a gasp.

Instantly, Milo's arms were around him. "I've got you," he murmured, his bare chest warm against Dylan's back. "You're safe."

Dylan turned, burying his face in Milo's neck. "I miss her," he whispered.

"I know," Milo said, running a soothing hand over Dylan's scarred shoulders. "It's okay to miss her." Milo kissed him.

As Dylan's tears subsided, he felt the familiar comfort of Milo's presence. He was still broken, but here, in Milo's arms, he felt like maybe, someday, he could be whole again.

The fluorescent lights of the school library buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glow on the textbooks and papers scattered across the table. Dylan stared at the blank page before him, pen hovering uncertainly above the lined paper. His hand trembled slightly, and he couldn't seem to focus on the task at hand.

Milo's voice cut through the fog in Dylan's mind. "Hey, you okay there? You've been staring at that page for like five minutes."

Dylan blinked, forcing a weak smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… thinking about how to start."

But he wasn't fine. Images of his mother's gentle smile kept flashing through his mind, followed by darker memories - the crack of his father's belt, the sting of his cruel words. He shook his head, trying to dispel the raw pain that still coursed through him.

"You sure?" Milo pressed, his blue eyes filled with concern. "You look a little pale."

Dylan's chest tightened. He wanted to brush it off, to be strong, but the weight of his emotions was crushing him. His vision blurred as tears welled up.

"I… I can't…" he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Without hesitation, Milo stood up, gently tugging on Dylan's arm. "Come on," he said softly. "Let's get some air."

As they walked to an empty study room, Dylan's heart pounded. Why did these memories have to haunt him?

Once inside, Milo closed the door and pulled Dylan into a tight hug. "It's okay," he murmured. "You're safe here. You can let it out."

And Dylan did. He sobbed into Milo's shoulder, his body shaking with the force of his grief and fear. Milo held him steady, one hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"I'm sorry," Dylan gasped between sobs. "I thought I was getting better…"

"Hey, no," Milo said firmly, pulling back to look Dylan in the eyes. "You don't have to apologize for feeling. You've been through so much, Dylan. It's okay to be broken sometimes. I'm here to help put the pieces back together, remember?"

Dylan nodded, sniffling. "I just… I miss her so much. And then I remember him, and I get so scared…"

"I know," Milo said softly. "But he can't hurt you anymore. You're safe now. I promise."

As Dylan's tears subsided, he felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. "Thank you," he whispered. "For everything."

Milo smiled, that bright, warm smile that never failed to make Dylan's heart skip a beat. "I love you," he replied. "Now, how about we ditch this project for today and go get a couple of almond flat whites instead?"

Despite everything, Dylan found himself smiling back. "Yeah," he said. "That sounds perfect."

The wind whipped across the soccer field, carrying with it the sharp scent of grass, mud and the distant promise of more rain. Dylan's cleats dug into the turf as he sprinted down the sideline, his heart pounding with exhilaration. For a moment, he felt free, unburdened by the weight of his past.

"Over here!" Milo called, waving his arms.

Dylan's foot connected with the ball, sending it arcing towards his best friend. Milo trapped it effortlessly, flashing Dylan a quick grin before darting between two defenders.

As the game intensified, so did the noise—shouts from teammates, the thud of bodies colliding, even the backdrop of city sounds seemed to intensify. Dylan's breath came in short gasps, his vision narrowing. The sounds blurred together, becoming a roar that reminded him of—

A body slammed into him from behind. Dylan hit the ground hard, the impact jarring through his body. Suddenly, he wasn't on the soccer field anymore. He was back in that house, his father's belt, and his rage, raining down on his back, laying him open.

"Dylan?" Milo's voice sounded far away. "Dylan, can you hear me?"

Dylan blinked, finding himself still on the grass, unable to move. Milo's concerned face swam into view.

"I've got you," Milo murmured, helping Dylan to his feet. "Let's take a break, okay?"

As they made their way to the sidelines, Dylan's thoughts raced. Why couldn't he just be normal like everyone else?

Milo guided them to a secluded spot behind the bleachers, his arm steady around Dylan's shoulders. "Deep breaths," he instructed gently. "You're safe. I'm right here."

Dylan nodded, struggling to slow his breathing. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I don't know why I—"

"Don't apologize," Milo interrupted, his blue eyes fierce with protection. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

As Dylan's panic slowly subsided, he leaned into Milo's warmth, grateful for the quiet strength of his best friend. They sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the ongoing practice a distant backdrop to their private moment of comfort.

The wind whistled through the bare branches outside, but inside Milo's bedroom, warmth enveloped them. Dylan nestled closer to Milo, his head resting on the other boy's bare chest. The steady thrum of Milo's heartbeat was a soothing rhythm, anchoring Dylan in the present.

"You know," Milo's voice rumbled softly beneath Dylan's ear, "I meant what I said before. I'll always take care of you, Dyl. For as long as you want me."

Dylan lifted his head, meeting Milo's earnest blue gaze. "You promise?"

Milo's fingers traced gentle patterns across Dylan's scarred shoulders. "I promise. No matter what."

A lump formed in Dylan's throat. "Even if I'm broken?"

"Especially," Milo said firmly. "Besides, you're not broken. You're healing." He kissed him.

Dylan settled back against Milo's chest, mulling over his words. After a moment, Milo spoke again, his tone lighter.

"So, Christmas is coming up. Dad's coming to visit."

Dylan tensed slightly. "What if… what if he doesn't like me?"

Milo chuckled. "Are you kidding? He's going to love you! Almost as much as I do."

The casual declaration made Dylan's heart skip. He focused on Milo's next words, trying to distract himself from the flutter in his chest.

"And then there's Honduras," Milo continued excitedly. "Can you believe it? We'll be snorkeling in January while everyone else is freezing their butts off here."

Despite his lingering anxiety, Dylan found himself smiling. "It sounds amazing," he murmured.

As Milo painted vivid pictures of crystal-clear waters and sun-drenched beaches, Dylan felt the knot of fear in his chest slowly unraveling. Here, in the safety of Milo's arms, the future didn't seem so daunting anymore.

Dylan's heart raced as Milo opened the front door, revealing a tall, handsome man with Milo's same sparkling blue eyes and warm smile. In an instant, Dylan saw his beloved Milo in twenty years, and his breath caught.

"Dad, this is Dylan, my best friend!" Milo beamed, pulling Dylan close.

The man strode forward and gripped Dylan's hand firmly. "So you're my new son!" he proclaimed with a booming laugh. Before Dylan could react, he was enveloped in a tight bear hug, Milo's arm still around his waist. Tears pricked Dylan's eyes as Milo's dad--no, his new dad--held him close. Was this what a father's love felt like? Unconditional acceptance instead of pain and fury? Joy swelled in Dylan's chest.

As they separated, Milo's dad ruffled his hair affectionately. "I'm David, but you can call me Dad if you'd like. Welcome to the family, kiddo."

"Thank you, sir--uh, Dad," Dylan replied shyly, a grin splitting his face. Milo squeezed his hand.

"Now, who's ready for some Christmas shopping? I heard the Village pulled out all the stops this year!" David winked.

Soon they were strolling amid quaint wooden stalls strung with twinkling lights, the scent of roasted chestnuts and gingerbread dancing on the crisp air. Dylan gazed in wonder at the cheerful bustle around them, his cheeks pink from the cold and laughter. Whenever melancholy thoughts crept in, Milo was there with a joke or silly face to banish them. His eyes shone with adoration every time they met Dylan's.

As they browsed handcrafted ornaments, David pulled the boys close. "Can I tell you boys something? I still love your mom, Milo. I never stopped."

Milo's face lit up. "She misses you too, Dad! I think… I think she wants to fix things between you."

Hope bloomed in Dylan's heart, bright as the star atop the giant fir tree in the center of the market. Milo's family could be whole again--and he would be a part of it. For the first time, he dared to imagine a future filled with love and belonging. All because a sweet, brave boy offered his hand in friendship. No, more than friendship, Dylan realized, lacing his fingers with Milo's. This was a once-in-a-lifetime love.

Christmas Eve descended in a hush of snow-globe magic, firelight painting the walls in flickering gold as Dylan stepped into the Pittmans' living room. The air smelled of pine needles and savory herbs, and his stomach growled at the thought of Margaret's cooking.

"There you are!" Milo bounced up from the couch to engulf Dylan in a hug. "Merry Christmas Eve!"

Dylan squeezed him back, heart full to bursting. "Merry Christmas Eve."

They settled around the table for a feast of roasted vegetables, hearty lentil shepherd's pie, and flaky apple strudel. Dylan had never tasted anything so delicious. As Margaret refilled his plate for the third time, insisting he was too skinny, he caught David watching him with a soft smile. Like he was already part of the family.

After dinner, they gathered by the tree for an early gift exchange. Dylan's hands shook as he handed Milo a small package. "I hope you like it."

Milo tore off the wrapping to reveal a pendant carved in the shape of a dragon, its scales gleaming with iridescence. "Dyl! It's perfect!" He immediately looped it around his neck. "I'll never take it off."

Blushing, Dylan reached for the present Milo thrust at him. Inside was a small ceramic baby dragon, intricately detailed and very cute. Its innocent face bore a peculiar resemblance to Dylan's own.

"Watch this." Milo placed a cone of incense in the dragon's open mouth and lit it. Wisps of fragrant smoke curled from its nostrils.

"Whoa," Dylan breathed. "Milo, this is incredible. I love it."

They hugged fiercely, and Dylan thought he might combust from sheer happiness.

As the night lengthened, the two boys gradually dozed off on the sofa, Dylan's head nestled on Milo's shoulder. Margaret tucked a quilt around them, exchanging a meaningful glance with David.

"Look at them," she whispered. "Have you ever seen anything so sweet?"

"Like it was meant to be." David draped an arm around her waist. "Reminds me of us, once upon a time."

Margaret leaned into him, eyes misting. "Maybe it still can be. We had that kind of love too."

David pressed a kiss to her hair. "Never stopped, Maggie. I never stopped loving you."

In the gentle glow of the dying fire, two couples slept - one young and just beginning, the other older and wiser, but both wrapped in the unbreakable bonds of love. A Christmas miracle indeed.

Snow fluttered past the frosted windowpane, glinting silver in the moonlight. Dylan clutched the intricately carved dragon figurine to his chest, feeling the smooth curves of the clay against his fingers. Milo's gift was perfect - not just the little statue itself, but the thoughtfulness behind it. A dragon to symbolize strength, magic, and the unbreakable bond between them.

"I love it," Dylan whispered, setting the figurine on the nightstand. "And I love the pendant I got you. We match now."

Milo grinned, the dragon pendant glinting at his throat. "Brothers of the dragon." He climbed into bed and patted the space beside him. "C'mere, it's cold. Let's huddle for warmth."

Dylan happily obliged, snuggling up against Milo's side. Being close to his best friend always made him feel safe and cherished, like nothing bad could touch him. As sleep tugged at him, Dylan thought, This is the best Christmas Eve ever…

In his dreams, they soared.

Wind rushed past Dylan's face as the majestic dragon carried them across a cerulean sky. Tropical sun kissed his bare shoulders and back. Behind him, Milo's solid chest and arms surrounded Dylan in a gentle embrace. Skin against skin, hearts beating as one.

There was no pain here, no cruel blows or hateful words. Only endless blue horizons and Milo's steadfast presence. His brother. His soulmate.

I never want to wake up, Dylan thought blissfully. I want to stay in this perfect moment forever, just me and Milo, together and free…

Above, the sun shone down on them in eternal summer, even as snowflakes twirled beyond the window pane. For now, in dreams, the two boys flew on, inseparable. At peace.

Dylan's eyelids fluttered open slowly, consciousness seeping in like honey. Watery morning light slanted through the curtains, painting the room in a soft glow. He blinked, momentarily disoriented, before registering the warm weight pressed along his side.

Rolling over, Dylan came face to face with Milo, still fast asleep. His best friend looked younger in slumber, dark lashes fanned out against smooth cheeks. They had kicked off the covers in the night, baring their upper bodies to the cool air.

Dylan took a moment to admire the sculpted lines of Milo's chest and arms. Milo was naturally athletic, his swimmer's physique already showing at thirteen. Not for the first time, a swooping sensation filled Dylan's stomach as he gazed at his beautiful best friend.

Unable to resist, he reached out, gently tracing the dragon pendant resting against Milo's sternum. The silver pendant rose and fell with each even breath. Milo didn't stir.

A smile tugged at Dylan's lips. He rolled onto his back, lacing his fingers behind his head contentedly. Peace settled over him like a warm blanket. For a few blissful minutes, he let himself just exist, soaking in the quiet joy of lying next to his favorite person in the world.

Milo let out a soft sigh, automatically adjusting to Dylan's new position. In his sleep, he flung an arm across Dylan's chest, palm resting over his steadily beating heart. The gesture felt protective, even a little possessive. It made something flutter behind Dylan's ribcage.

He's still dreaming, Dylan thought fondly, unconsciously syncing his breathing to match his best friend's. About me, I hope.

Unbidden, memories of their shared dream filtered through his mind. The fantastical landscape, the exhilaration of flight, Milo's gentle embrace… it had felt so real. Dylan ached to return to that carefree dream world, to live forever in a reality where he could love Milo openly, without fear or shame.

Still, Dylan couldn't complain. The past several weeks had been some of the happiest of his life. Milo's family had welcomed him with open arms, making him feel cherished and wanted in a way he hadn't experienced since his mother died. They called him "son" so easily, like they'd already claimed him as their own.

The future stretched before him, glittering with possibility. Today was Christmas, his first real holiday in years. Tomorrow, they'd board a plane for an exotic vacation, just the four of them. Dylan trembled with excitement imagining the ancient Copán ruins waiting to be explored, the underwater wonderland Milo had promised to show him.

"It's like swimming through an alien planet," Milo had gushed, eyes shining. "You'll love it, Dyl. I can't wait to share it with you."

Share it with you. The words echoed through him now, warming him from within. Milo wanted to share his world with Dylan. His passions, his happiest memories, his secret joys--Milo invited Dylan into all of it. Like it was the most natural thing, to enfold Dylan into his life without hesitation.

Dylan breathed in slowly, wonder expanding in his chest. Sometimes it struck him anew--how much his life had changed since meeting Milo. Before, there had been only darkness. Pain and isolation and helpless rage. He'd been so lost. Untethered and drifting, with no safe harbor in sight.

Then Milo crashed into his life like a comet, and suddenly the world ignited with color. Milo saw past the walls Dylan had built, past the anger and fear, straight to his bleeding heart. And instead of turning away, Milo had taken Dylan's hand and said, "I'm here. I've got you."

Dylan turned his head, drinking in the sight of his best friend. His brother. His savior. Emotion clogged his throat.

I love you, he thought fiercely. I'll love you forever.

Outside, snow drifted lazily past the window, blanketing the world in pristine white. But here, twined together beneath the covers, Dylan had never felt warmer. He curled closer to Milo and closed his eyes, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

There would be time to wake soon. For presents and laughter and holiday joy. But for now, Dylan let himself slip back into slumber, ready to meet Milo in his dreams once more.

They had a lifetime of adventures waiting, after all.

The snowy streets twinkled with colorful Christmas lights as Milo and Dylan made their way to Roscoe's house, their boots crunching in the fresh powder. Milo grinned at Dylan, his cheeks rosy from the cold. "I can't wait for you to hear the Hobbits play. They're totally unhinged!"

Inside the warm pool house, the Christmas Night party was in full swing. The band (Hobbits Who Smoke, formerly The Finger, formerly Pity Party) looked ridiculous but somehow cool in their ugly Christmas sweaters as they tore into a song about pissed-off underpaid zombie elves attacking Santa's workshop.

Dylan laughed. "These lyrics are insane! I love it!" He grabbed Milo's hand, pulling him in to dance. They bounced around, giggling and trying to follow the crazy rhythm.

All around them, their friends were having a blast - girls, guys, and a few other boy couples too, everyone welcome. Milo's heart swelled seeing Dylan so carefree and happy, a world away from the pain of his past. This was exactly how it should be.

"Dude, I think my legs are going to fall off," Dylan panted as the song ended. "No wonder these Hobbits are so skinny. It's a workout just listening to them!"

Milo steered them over to a couch to catch their breath. Matty, the runt of the band, plopped down beside them, face flushed from performing.

"Cheers!" Matty clinked his cherry lime soda can against theirs. "I had no idea you two were a thing. That's awesome!"

"Still besties, always," Milo said, slinging an arm around Dylan. "Just leveled up to boyfriends now."

"Right on," Matty said. He leaned in closer, glancing over at the Hobbits' lanky, adorably metal-mouthed drummer . "Can you keep a secret? Petey and me… we're more than buds too. He's my rock."

"Aw, Matty! That's the best." Dylan high-fived him as Petey came over.

"Group hug!" Petey declared, wrapping them all up in his gangly arms.

Milo met Dylan's eyes over Matty's head and they shared a soft, knowing smile. Being themselves, being in love, and having great friends to share it with - it didn't get any better.

That night, tangled together beneath the sheets, Milo nuzzled into Dylan's neck with a contented sigh. "Can you believe Matty and Petey? I totally called it."

Dylan laughed, his chest rumbling under Milo's cheek. "You did not! I'm the one who said they were joined at the hip."

"Okay, okay, we both had a hunch," Milo conceded, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at Dylan. "Guess it takes one to know one, huh?"

"Guess so." Dylan reached up, brushing an unruly curl off Milo's forehead. "Two peas in a pod, you and me."

Milo leaned into his touch, then captured Dylan's hand to press a kiss to his palm. "I can't wait to hit the beach with you tomorrow. Snorkel in the surf, check out the Mayan ruins…"

"Spend a week attached at the hip?" Dylan finished with a grin.

"You know it, babe." Milo waggled his eyebrows. "Among other body parts."

Dylan swatted at him, laughing. "You're incorrigible!"

"Don't pretend you don't love it." Milo settled back down, draping himself half on top of Dylan like a blanket.

Dylan's arms came up to wrap around him, warm and strong. "I do, though. Love you. Love this, us, everything."

"Mmm. Me too." Milo closed his eyes, listening to the steady thump of Dylan's heart. "Hey… you sure you're okay to fly tomorrow? I know you've never been on a plane."

He felt more than saw Dylan's shrug. "Not gonna pretend I'm not nervous. But I'll be fine, long as I've got you to hold my hand."

"You'll always have me," Milo promised. He laced their fingers together, already picturing the two of them soaring through the clouds, ready to chase their next adventure side by side.

The hum of the car engine blended with the ethereal sounds of Tycho streaming through a shared earbud. Dylan's head rested on Milo's shoulder, their bodies intertwined in the back seat. Sunlight danced across their peaceful faces as they dozed, oblivious to the world rushing by outside.

Dylan stirred, blinking sleepily. He gazed up at Milo's serene expression and felt a warmth bloom in his chest.

"Hey sleepyhead," Milo murmured, eyes still closed but a smile tugging at his lips.

Dylan yawned. "How long was I out?"

"Long enough for your drool to soak my shirt," Milo teased.

Dylan's cheeks flushed. "I do not drool!"

Milo cracked one eye open, grinning. "Sure, keep telling yourself that, Dyl."

They arrived at the airport, a flurry of activity as they unloaded bags and made their way to Terminal D. Dylan marveled at his shiny new phone, a Christmas gift from Margaret and David.

"Check it out," Dylan said, showing Milo the screen. "I copied your playlist."

Milo's eyes lit up. "Awesome! Now we can listen together without sharing earbuds."

As "Montana" by Tycho filled their ears once more, Dylan felt overwhelmed by a sense of belonging. He watched Milo bob his head to the beat, struck by how much his life had changed.

"I feel like God is hugging me," Dylan whispered, not meaning to say it aloud.

Milo heard. Without hesitation, he wrapped Dylan in a tight embrace, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Well, you deserve it," Milo said, his voice full of affection. "And I love you."

Dylan melted into the hug, feeling truly safe and loved. It was as if the universe itself had answered his unspoken prayer through Milo's unwavering devotion.

Dylan gazed out the plane window, fluffy clouds drifting beneath them. Milo leaned against him, their hands intertwined. The gentle hum of the engines lulled them into a peaceful silence.

"It's like a dream," Dylan murmured.

Milo squeezed his hand. "What is?"

"All of this. You. Your family." Dylan's voice wavered. "I used to be so scared…"

Milo shifted, wrapping an arm around Dylan's shoulders. "You're safe now, Dyl. I promise."

Dylan nodded, but his mind drifted to the scars on his back. He tensed.

"What's wrong?" Milo asked, concern etched on his face.

"The beach," Dylan whispered. "What if people stare?"

Milo touched Dylan's cheek gently. "Hey, look at me. You're beautiful, scars and all. Anyone who can't see that isn't worth your time."

Dylan managed a small smile. "You really think so?"

"I know so," Milo replied, his blue eyes sincere. "Besides, I'll be right there with you."

As they touched down, Dylan felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. The hotel lobby bustled with activity as they checked in.

"Room 302," Milo announced, waving the key card. "Just for us!"

They lugged their bags upstairs, collapsing dramatically as soon as they entered.

"Two beds?" Dylan laughed, eyeing the room setup, including the unnecessary extra bed.

Milo waggled his eyebrows. "Well… In case we have guests over?"

Dylan threw a pillow at him, grinning. "Silly boy."

"You love it," Milo retorted, dodging the projectile, pulling Dylan into a hug.

As they unpacked, Dylan felt a surge of gratitude. He had Milo, a room to themselves, and a whole vacation ahead. For the first time in forever, he felt truly free.

Dylan's stomach growled, interrupting their playful banter. "Food first?" he suggested.

Milo nodded eagerly. "Definitely. I'm starving!"

After a quick meal at the hotel restaurant, they rushed back to their room, excited to hit the beach. Dylan hesitated as he changed into his swim trunks, and he contemplated pulling on a rash guard shirt to hide the scars.

Milo noticed his pause. "You've got this, Dyl. Remember what I said? You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Dylan took a deep breath. "Yeah. Thanks, Mi." He left the rash guard shirt in the suitcase.

They headed for the elevator, Dylan's heart racing.

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open to reveal a scene that made Dylan's breath catch. Four boys, all around their age, stood inside. Three with fiery red hair and pale skin, the fourth with dark locks. The fraternal twins were unmistakable – tall, muscular, and handsome in a way that made Dylan's cheeks warm. Their younger brother and his friend were equally striking.

Milo nudged Dylan, a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like we've got company," he whispered.

As they stepped in, Dylan felt a mix of excitement and nerves. Just like him and Milo, the four boys wore only swim trunks.

"Hey there," one of the twins said, his accent immediately catching Dylan's attention. "Heading to the beach?"

Milo, ever the social butterfly, jumped in. "You bet! I'm Milo, and this is Dylan. We're from Philly."

The elevator ride was a blur of introductions and excited chatter. Tadhg, Finn, Ben, and Josh. As they exited, Dylan found himself walking beside Ben, the youngest Murphy brother.

"So, Halifax," Dylan said, trying to sound casual. "That's in Canada, right? What's it like there?"

Ben's eyes lit up. "Oh man, it's awesome! We've got this huge harbor, and Upper Level, the best gaming cave in Canada. . ."

Dylan listened, fascinated, as they made their way to the sand. For a moment, he forgot about his scars, about his past. He was just a boy on vacation, making new friends. Before Dylan knew it, they were all racing towards the shoreline, sand flying beneath their feet.

The volleyball game was intense, laughter and shouts mixing with the sound of waves. Dylan dove for a save, hitting the sand and sliding on his stomach.

"Nice one!" Tadhg called out, offering a hand to help him up.

As Dylan stood, brushing sand off, he caught Ben's curious gaze from a few feet away. The younger boy's eyes lingered on Dylan's back before quickly darting away.

Dylan's stomach clenched. He knew what Ben had seen.

The game wound down, and they collapsed on towels, panting and grinning. Dylan could feel the question hanging in the air, unasked but present.

Finally, Ben spoke up, his voice tentative. "Hey, Dylan? Can I ask you something?"

Dylan's heart raced. He looked to Milo, who gave a subtle nod of support.

"Sure," Dylan said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Ben hesitated, then blurted out, "What happened to your back?"

Dylan took a deep breath, steeling himself. "My dad…" His voice caught. He swallowed hard and tried again. "My dad abused me." He said matter-of-factly, looking Ben in the eye.

Milo's hand found Dylan's shoulder, warm and steady.

"He'd beat me for anything. Or nothing." Dylan's words came faster now, tumbling out. "Blamed me when my mom died. But she was sick, diabetic."

The other boys listened, wide-eyed. Dylan felt exposed, but also… lighter somehow.

"Dad's in jail now. Ten years." He glanced at Milo, managing a small smile. "Milo saw what was happening. He saved me."

Milo squeezed Dylan's shoulder. "You saved yourself too, bud."

Dylan nodded. "Milo's family adopted me. They're my real family now."

Ben fidgeted with the drawstring of his trunks. "Shit, I'm sorry man. Didn't mean to pry."

"It's okay," Dylan said. "I was gonna hide the scars, wear a shirt. But Milo convinced me not to."

The boys fell quiet. Dylan could almost hear their thoughts whirring.

Finally, Ben spoke. "The scars aren't that noticable. You're pretty damn tough, dude."

Dylan shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I've got good people in my corner now."

Milo beamed, throwing an arm around Dylan's shoulders. "You bet he does!"

The Murphy boys and Josh exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of sympathy and admiration. Dylan recognized that bond - it was like his and Milo's. A chosen family.

The mood lightened as Josh suggested another round of volleyball. As they played, Dylan felt a weight lifting. These new friends saw his scars, knew his story, and still treated him like any other kid.

As night fell, the boys crowded into Dylan's and Milo's room, still buzzing with energy from the day's revelations. Dylan perched on the edge of one double bed, watching as the others settled in.

"So, what's Philadelphia like?" Finn asked, flopping onto the other bed. "Is it really always sunny?"

Dylan chuckled. "Not always. But it's pretty great."

Milo plopped down next to Dylan, their shoulders touching. "Tell 'em about the seitan cheesesteaks, Dyl!"

"Oh man," Dylan grinned, warming to the topic. "You guys haven't lived until you've had a real seitan cheesesteak from Tattooed Mom's."

As they chatted, Dylan felt the earlier tension melting away. He described the bustling streets, the history, the food. The Halifax boys countered with tales of their own city – the harbor, the citadel, the friendliness of the locals.

As the night wore on, Dylan found himself opening up more. He shared stories of school, of his favorite hangouts, of the life he was building with Milo and his family. The other boys listened, asking questions, sharing their own experiences.

"It's weird," Dylan thought, glancing around at the group. "I've known these guys for like, a day. But it feels like… like we've been friends forever."

Dylan stirred, eyes fluttering open as the first rays of morning light filtered through the hotel curtains. He was enveloped in warmth, Milo's arms wrapped snugly around him. Dylan smiled softly, relishing the comfort and safety of his best friend's embrace.

Reluctantly, he gently extricated himself from Milo's arms, the urge to use the bathroom pulling him from the cozy bed. As he rose, his eyes fell on the other bed, where the fraternal twins Finn and Tadhg were cuddled together just as intimately as he and Milo had been. On the floor, Josh and Ben dozed shirtless in a shared sleeping bag, limbs intertwined.

Realization dawned on Dylan and he grinned. These boys were just like him and Milo - no wonder they all got along so effortlessly. Not a single mention of girls yesterday. All birds of a feather.

In the bathroom, Dylan chuckled to himself, amazed and delighted by this newfound sense of kinship. When he returned, Milo was beginning to stir. Dylan slid back under the covers and into his arms.

"Milo," he whispered. "We don't need to hide anything from them. They're just like us. We can be ourselves here - we're all family."

Milo blinked sleepily, a smile spreading across his face as understanding set in. He hugged Dylan closer. "You're right. I'm so glad, Dyl."

Later, after a hearty breakfast with their parents, the six boys reconvened, eager for a day of snorkeling. Milo, an experienced snorkeler, was prepared to guide Dylan.

"You're going to love this," Milo grinned as he helped Dylan with his gear. "The reefs here are incredible."

Dylan nodded, trying to quell the flutter of nerves in his stomach. Nearby, Tadhg and Finn were helping Josh and Ben.

They waded into the crystal blue water. Dylan took a deep breath, Milo's warm hand on his back a steadying presence.

"Ready?" Milo asked. At Dylan's nod, they dipped below the surface.

An underwater wonderland greeted them. Dylan's initial trepidation melted away as he marveled at the vibrant coral and teeming schools of tropical fish. He felt a surge of confidence - this was easier than he'd expected. Milo swam alongside him, flashing encouraging thumbs-up signs.

They surfaced sometime later, Dylan giddy with exhilaration. "That was amazing!" he exclaimed. "I felt like a fish!"

Milo laughed, slinging an arm around Dylan's shoulders. "You're a natural, Dyl! I knew you would be."

Dylan beamed, basking in Milo's praise and the joy of this shared experience. He had a feeling this was the start of something wonderful - not just the snorkeling, but this sense of belonging, of having found his tribe at last.

Refreshed and eager to explore more, the boys dove back under the waves. Dylan felt like he was flying, gliding effortlessly through schools of glittering fish.

Suddenly, Milo grabbed his arm, pointing excitedly. Dylan followed his gaze and felt his heart skip. Gliding serenely along the reef was a magnificent sea turtle, its weathered shell speaking of a long life under the sea.

As if sensing their presence, the turtle turned its wise eyes toward them. Dylan held his breath as it swam closer, until he could have reached out and touched its barnacled shell. For a long moment, boy and turtle regarded each other - a meeting of kindred spirits.

Too soon, the turtle drifted off, but the magic of the encounter lingered. Dylan surfaced, pulling off his mask, eyes shining.

"Did you see that, Milo? It was like… like it understood me somehow."

Milo hugged him close. "Pretty amazing, right? You made a friend!"

Dylan nodded, too moved to speak. He felt like the luckiest boy in the world - here in paradise, surrounded by love and acceptance, with Milo by his side and new friends to share it all with.

The rest of the day passed in a sun-drenched blur of laughter, underwater adventures, and the easy camaraderie of kindred spirits. As the sun began to set, painting the sky in dreamy watercolors, the boys reluctantly made their way back to shore.

Sand-crusted and exhausted, but glowing with happiness, Dylan turned to Milo. "Thank you," he said softly. "For all of this. I'll never forget today."

Milo pulled him close, resting their foreheads together. "Me neither," he murmured. "But it's just the beginning, Dyl. We've got a whole lifetime of days like this ahead of us."

Dylan smiled, his heart too full for words. Wrapped in the warmth of Milo's embrace, surrounded by the laughter and chatter of their new friends, he had never felt so completely, incandescently happy.

This, he knew with sudden certainty, was what love felt like. What family felt like. What forever felt like.

He couldn't wait for all the adventures yet to come.

Dylan gazed out the tiny window as the charter plane lifted off the runway. Milo squeezed his hand and grinned. "Ready for an adventure, Dyl?"

He smiled back. "With you, always." He glanced around the cramped cabin at their motley crew - Mom and Dad, and the four Halifax boys they'd befriended over the past few days. His heart swelled. It felt like destiny had drawn them all together.

"Mom, do you think we'll see toucans at the ruins?" Dylan asked. The word slipped out of Dylan's mouth before he could catch it. "I hope so."

Margaret's eyes misted over. She pulled Dylan into a fierce hug, her voice thick with emotion. "I hope so too, sweetie. I really do."

As they flew over the lush jungle, Dylan's mind reeled. Had he really just called her Mom? It seemed so natural, so right. A missing piece slotting into place. Mom. He rolled the word around in his mind, savoring its sweetness.

The plane touched down and they piled out, stretching sore limbs. Dylan breathed in deep, inhaling the rich, earthy scents of soil and vegetation. Birdsong filled the humid air.

They trekked up weathered stone steps, gaping at the majestic pyramids rising before them. Rainbow colored macaws soared overhead, their raucous caws echoing off the ancient structures.

"Whoa," Finn whispered. "Do you feel that?"

"I feel it," Tadhg said. "It's like the whole world just opened up."

Milo took Dylan's hand again as they climbed higher, drinking in the breathtaking vistas. Power seemed to thrum in the very stones beneath their feet. With each step, Dylan felt lighter, like he was shedding an old skin.

They reached the top and stood together, nobody speaking. The six boys looked at each other, and in that moment, an unbreakable bond was forged. Brothers in spirit. Oneness. The usual barriers that separated their individual minds and thoughts were gone. For one timeless moment, they all knew everything about each other, because there was no separation. Dylan met Milo's shining eyes and knew he felt it too - pure love and belonging, washing away the wounds of the past. The start of something new.

Dylan gasped as unfamiliar memories flooded his mind - Tadhg and Finn roughhousing as little boys, Ben shyly holding hands with Joshua for the first time, trivial embarrassments and intimate secrets. He knew these boys now, really knew them, as if they had grown up together. Brothers bonded by something deeper than blood.

Milo squeezed Dylan's hand, sensing his overwhelm. "It's okay," he said softly. "We're all connected now. No more secrets between us."

"I feel so exposed," Dylan said. "But safe, too. Loved."

Ben met Dylan's eyes, tears shimmering. "I'm so sorry," he choked out. "For what your father did to you. I felt it, saw it, like it happened to me."

Dylan's breath caught. Those memories, usually locked tightly away, had spilled out to all of them. But instead of judgment or pity in Ben's face, he only saw understanding and shared pain.

"Milo saved me," Dylan said simply. "His friendship, his love. I wouldn't have survived without him."

Milo pulled Dylan into a tight hug. "We saved each other."

The other boys gathered around them, arms encircling in a protective embrace. No more words were needed. They were family now, in all the ways that mattered.

Back at the hotel that night, the six boys pushed aside the beds, piling sleeping bags, blankets and pillows into a cozy nest on the floor.

"Slumber party!" Milo crowed, diving into the middle of the heap.

Dylan laughed and launched himself on top of his best friend, wrestling him into a playful headlock. The other boys piled on, and there was chaos. A free for all, boyish shouts and laughter.

They settled eventually, all curled up together, an intimate tangle of limbs and skin and youthful camaraderie. They resembled nothing less than an oversized litter of puppies. Dylan found himself sandwiched between Milo and Ben, Milo's arm draped protectively over his shoulders, Ben's warm back against his own.

"Love you," Milo murmured sleepily into Dylan's ear. "Love you both."

"Love you too," Dylan whispered back. He realized with a sudden fierce certainty that he did - he loved Milo and Ben and all these boys. They were his brothers, knit together by the strange magic they'd experienced.

"Best New Year's ever," Milo murmured, his breath warm against Dylan's neck. Dylan hummed in agreement, too content and sleepy to form words.

Sleep crept over him, his eyes growing heavy. Love, bone-deep and unconditional, wrapped around him like a blanket as he drifted off. He listened to the steady breathing of his brothers all around him - and let the rhythm lull him.

And then he dreamed. They all did, slipping into a shared vision as easily as breathing.

Wind whipped Dylan's hair as he clung to the scaly neck of his dragon, Milo warm and solid at his back. Their minds merged with their dragons', joined in perfect unison.

To their left flew Ben and Joshua, whooping with exhilarated joy. On the right, Tadhg and Finn sailed by in streaks of color, their matched dragons moving in perfect tandem.

They were one, the six of them, boys and dragons alike. Heart, mind and soul, they belonged to each other, to this sky, to the glorious freedom of flight.

Dylan had never felt such belonging, such rightness. This was their destiny - to find each other, to fly together, to be brothers on a level beyond words.

He woke the next morning with his soul singing, the dream vivid and shimmering in his mind. Milo's eyes met his, bright with wonder and recognition.

The others stirred, sitting up with sleep-mussed hair and wide grins. They had shared the dream. Dylan felt Milo's arms tighten around him and Ben's hand slip into his.

Dylan looked around at the bright faces of his brothers and thought, "Yes. This is what family means."

The airport bustled with activity, a stark contrast to their dreamy day in Copán. Dylan's chest felt tight as he hugged Ben and Josh goodbye, fighting back tears.

"We'll see each other again soon," Josh promised, ruffling Dylan's hair. "You're not getting rid of us that easy."

Milo embraced Tadhg and Finn fiercely, making them promise to visit. "I mean it," he said, voice wobbling. "You guys are family now."

Finn laughed warmly. "Yeah. Family sticks together." He hugged Milo again, lifting him off his feet. "Take care of Dylan, you hear?" His eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"To my last breath," Milo vowed.

With one last round of hugs, Dylan and Milo reluctantly followed their parents to the gate. Dylan glanced over his shoulder, memorizing the faces of the boys who'd changed his life.

"They really are our brothers now," he mused.

Milo took his hand, lacing their fingers together. "I miss 'em already." He leaned in close, bumping Dylan's shoulder. "No matter where we go, we'll always have each other. We're all connected."

Dylan rested his head against Milo's, carrying the warmth of their new brotherhood with him as they boarded the plane home.

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Dylan and Milo

by SalientLane

Part 2

Family for Christmas