"And I just... I wanted to puke," Marshall said quietly. Lionel, sitting straight-backed and attentive, watched with piercing eyes.

"Did you?" he asked. He sounded vaguely amused.

"No... I made him leave." Marshall shook his head a little. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" He murmured the question, and the blonde teenager looked even more amused.

"Real answer, or... selfish one?" he asked with that smile of his. It always seemed so bittersweet. There was sadness in every upturn of his lips, in every crinkle in the corner of his eyes.

Marshall stared at him for a few moments. "Either? Both?" He squirmed in his seat.

Lionel almost laughed, that same smile plastered on his face. He drew his knee up to his chest. "Real? You have intimacy issues," he said, slow and clear. "You're terrified of becoming your parents. Those little sweater-vests you wear are like... your armour."

Marshall raised his eyebrows and scowled, "Thank you, Doctor Phil."

"Roadside therapy! Take it or leave it!" Lionel protested as the cars whooshed past them. He repositioned himself, facing the car's primary window. He sighed, deeply, something very rare for him. Marshall just continued to stare at him.

"What's the selfish answer?" he asked. He sounded as if he was dreading the response.

Lionel took a moment, smacking his lips together and parting them twice. "Ah. You... won't let Noah in... because you're... still... in love with me," he said, just as slowly and as clearly as he had the whole night.

The black-haired teenager flinched back and took in a deep breath, then exhaled. 'Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,' was his basic thought process. Half of him was denying it, the other embracing it, and just a tiny, additional, external response was just very, very confused.

He remained silent, and Lionel stared at him. "I'll ignore that... crushing silence," he said. That smile had fallen. His face was blank - emotionless.

"I don't wanna talk," Marshall said quickly, facing him once more, just as he turned away. "Can we not talk? Can you just fuck me, is that okay?" Marshall's eyes went wide at his own words.

A look of pure disgust mixed with pure pain overtook Lionel's face. He looked close to tears, and turned back to the steering wheel, turning the keys to the ignition.

"Lionel, don't!"

"News flash asshole, no one likes to be used!" Lionel informed him, loudly and with pain trickling into his every syllable.

"I'm sorry! Okay? I'm sorry..." He felt tears stinging in his eyes, and they began to overflow when Lionel spoke.

"Fuck off."

Marshall tried to stop himself from crying, and leaned into the window. Lionel looked horrified as he realized that his ex-boyfriend was crying. He touched his shoulder to turn him around, Marshall's body obedient to Lionel's physicality, and pulled him into his arms.

The black-haired boy clung to him as tears trickled down his cheeks. He pulled back a little to bury his face in the crook of the blonde's shoulder. The blonde went to move away, but Marshall stuck to him like glue. "Please, Lionel, I don't... I don't need you to fuck me, just hold me," he whispered through the cascades of tears pouring down his cheeks. "Please."

"I wanna hug it better," Lionel agreed, and they both laughed gently - he quoted himself, from the day of Charmagne's almost-wedding. Those were not bittersweet memories. Those first weeks of their relationship were perfect, full of love and tender touches, meaningful conversations and shared sweet smiles. They both ached for that innocent first love again.

"You're hugging me, idiot," Marshall said through a choked off laugh. Lionel smiled and pressed a light kiss to the side of his head, which made the other boy turn his head, which turned into the blonde boy kissing his partner's cheekbone. Then the centre of his cheek. Then his inner cheek. Then the corner of his lips. Marshall held his breath and remained completely still as the blonde moved in a little closer, before he leaned in to brush their lips together.

Marshall whimpered a little and pressed forwards, slotting their lips together in full. Soon their tongues were brushing, and hands cupping soft faces and throats. There was the sudden blaring of car horns, then a loud crash. They sprung apart, wide eyed. They stared at each other for a few moments, wondering what the should do. Lionel decided it was best to take Marshall back into his arms. He kissed the side of his head. "Car crashes... that would be the most horrific way to die, I think," Marshall said, as sirens blared around them. "I don't want to see. Can we just... can we get out of here?"

Lionel nodded and pulled away. He took Marshall's hand and started the engine. "You'd better break up with Noah."

Marshall laughed and squeezed his hand.