Disclaimer: I hadn’t even born when this came out, so nop, I don’t own even a DVD of this movie.

Warnings: If you haven’t read the summary, this is slash. George/Marty. I don’t care for bitching. Tell the fic sucks, but not that it is sick.

1955

After the first kiss, Marty's eyes are shinning like two wide crystals throed on a pool, and his lips are trembling.

Some things are meant to happen just to be remembered.

You're changing more than I do, and I don't know why.

George doesn't understands many things, but he knows enough to not to ask.

He's certain of one thing though: Marty's not only crying because he's leaving.

After many years, George starts to pretend he doesn't notice the resemblance. He says to himself "It can't be". So he pretends that nothing happens. He's very good at it.

Some things are just meant to be forgotten.

George knows exactly the day that Martin knows. He can see the wariness in his son's eyes, the touch of fear, and the painful hope.

He pretends that nothing happens. He's very good at it. So he doesn't know why he can't this time.

He still says nothing when Marty follows him to his empty room, to soft, shadow-like, close-mouthed kisses. Ghost kisses.

George understands now many things he wish he didn't.

Some things just are.