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How Mercutio got into this situation in the first place, he didn't exactly know. It was a blur, everything up to that moment; sitting next to Tybalt Capp, talking about everything and nothing just to see how long it takes for the other to lose his shit.
The classroom is mostly quiet, but for students all around them discussing the questions in hushed voices here and there. At their desk, Mercutio is doing the talking, while Tybalt just leans over the worksheet and writes, putting a bit more pressure on the pen then necessary. They're doing some sort of assignment in pairs; Mercutio would've guessed that living in a small town like Veronaville, their teacher would've known better than to put a Monty and a Capp together for… anything, really. The teacher, apparently, did not know any better.
What kind of a project this is, Mercutio wouldn't be able to tell you. Some stupid Algebra tasks, or… something. It crosses Mercutio's mind for a second, what kind of task do you even need to do in pairs in Algebra class? It's whatever, though; he isn't really paying that much attention anyway. Well, in fact, he's not paying attention at all. He's way too focused on annoying Tybalt, who is trying very hard to actually finish the assignment. Well, probably not very hard. At this point, it seems that most of his energy is going into not punching Mercutio. Even with this silly mask of his, Mercutio's pretty sure he can see his eyelid twitching, and he definitely sees the pen in his hand shaking slightly.
Okay, maybe Tybalt is trying to finish the assignment to end his suffering. His suffering only, by the way. Mercutio is having fun.
He kind of wonders how long he can keep this going before he gets stabbed with that pen.
"Anyway, then the dog bit me, and that was- Well, rude, and also hurt like a bitch. Romeo laughed though, but-"
"Oh my fucking Watcher-" Tybalt finally snaps; Mercutio flinches, suddenly snapped out of his monologue about… he didn't remember what the monologue was about in the first place. He thinks it started with him saying bad jokes and seeing how bad they can annoy Tybalt, but eventually, he just started talking about whatever. "I'd bite you if it got you to shut up, I swear-"
Tybalt's words seem to get to him only after they leave his mouth. His grey eyes widen, lips suddenly sealed together. Mercutio's jaw, in turn, drops, but only for a couple of seconds. He's grinning, barely a moment later; his smile grows, just like Tybalt's visible fear, as he realizes his mistake.
"Did you just say you'll bite me, Tybalt Capp?"
"Shut up, shut up, shut up-"
"You totally did! Oh, Watcher. I didn't know you're into that stuff-"
"Shut up, shut up-"
"Well, I mean, whatever you want, you know, but maybe not in the classroom and-"
"Shut UP!" Tybalt raises his voice, getting up from his chair so abruptly it falls back on the floor. Despite all the sudden noise, no one looks back at them. "Fucking hell! Do you know how to keep fucking quiet for a few seconds, Monty?"
Mercutio just grins. This feels familiar. "I mean, you're the one doing all the shouting, so…"
Tybalt sucks in a shaky breath; Mercutio watches as he leans on the desk, narrowing his eyes at him. His whole body is tense; he can practically see how he tries to hold himself back, and it's almost amusing. There are no many occasions where Tybalt has to hold back in front of him.
"Because you-" He flicks at Mercutio's forehead. Ow. "Haven't stopped talking for two seconds. Maybe your stupid brother has already learned to tune it out, but I haven't, so if you could be quiet for a second so we could finish this-"
"Finish what?" Mercutio asks. The cafeteria is bustling with students, but everyone seems to be avoiding their table. Maybe they're just taken aback by the odd sight of a Capp and a Monty actually sitting together, or don't want to be too close in case a fight breaks out. With how hard Tybalt grips on the table — knuckles white — it might be any minute now. Despite what probably would be the wisest, Mercutio leans in slightly. "I mean, am I forcing you to eat lunch with me? As far as I know, you're doing this out of your free will. If I'm as tiring as you always say I am, why won't you go somewhere else? Somewhere where you won't be seen with a Monty, maybe? Like, what would your grandpa think?"
The thing is, he doesn't know whose idea was it for them to sit together in the first place. It's very amusing, to look at Tybalt's annoyed expression, as always, but how come they're actually eating lunch together bewilders even him. But he's not trying to think too hard about it.
It's enough that it's happening. Even if chances of him getting punched in the face in a moment are worryingly high.
Tybalt is looking down at him. Quite literally, because he's still standing. Mercutio waits and seconds tick by; he wonders if the Capp is going to storm off or punch him. Both seem likely.
The thing that is the least likely ends up happening. Slowly, almost begrudgingly, Tybalt sits back down and brings his lunch tray closer.
"My grandfather doesn't control everything that I do."
His voice came in surprisingly quiet. He's used to Tybalt being loud, pushy; this is an… unexpected change. He hopes more explanation is to come, but the table falls silent; Capp focuses on his lunch. It almost feels like he's pointedly trying to ignore the teen sitting next to him, eyes glued to his grilled cheese sandwich like it's the only thing in the world. An unsure smile eventually blooms on Mercutio's face.
"That's what this is, then? A rebellion against the ol' Capp?"
Tybalt shrugs; the motion feels stiff, it's barely visible.
"Maybe."
Mercutio huffs out a laugh.
"Wow. Who'd have thought. You never seemed like the disobedient kind."
This gets Tybalt to actually spare him a glance. It's not a friendly one, but it still gets Mercutio to grin.
"Don't talk about me like I'm some sort of a dog."
"Didn't you say you'd bite me?"
"We're not talking about that again-"
Mercutio just laughs again, more sincerely now. He elbows Tybalt, but not in an aggressive way; it's a gentle shove, brush of their arms together, making Tybalt give him more of a quizzical look.
"I'm just saying," Mercutio says, his mouth in a wide grin, "this feels unlike you! What about your precious reputation? Everyone can see us together here."
Tybalt rolls his eyes.
"No one is looking at us."
Mercutio glances at the clock. Noon just struck.
"They could be. This is quite a sight, isn't it?" He puts his chin on his hand, unapologetically staring at the teen next to him. Tybalt doesn't answer; one strand of his thick, red hair falls onto his forehead. Mercutio finds himself staring at it, with a sudden urge to push it back from Tybalt's face. And possibly run his hand through Tybalt's hair in the process. And… Wait, what? "A Monty and a Capp… just hanging out together… who'd have thought? It feels like just yesterday you were beating the shit out of me on the baseball field." It was yesterday. Mercutio can't quite tell what's changed since then. "And now…"
"And aren't you tired of it?" Tybalt cuts in; it's surprisingly bitter. "How many times can we do this? Fight, over and over again. It always ends up the same."
Mercutio raises his eyebrows slightly. "That is?"
Tybalt turns to fully face him. The grey eyes pierce through him, in silence for a longer moment. The mask doesn't make it much easier for Mercutio to try to figure out what the other is thinking. As if he ever could.
"You never win, for one."
Mercutio rolls his eyes. "You're saying as if that's bad for you."
"It makes it predictable. And that makes it boring." The corners of Tybalt's mouth slowly curl up in a smile. A rare sight, for Mercutio. What a shame; it's a cute little smile. "And besides, it never brings the desired outcome."
The smile on Mercutio's face widens; he leans in, even closer to Tybalt.
"And that is?"
To his surprise, Tybalt doesn't scoff. Doesn't pull back. He plays into it, leaning in as well; their noses are almost touching. Tybalt is still smiling.
"You never stop talking anyway."
Mercutio laughs.
It breaks the moment between the two of them, whatever it was- He moves away, lowering his head and laughing at the words. When he looks up, Tybalt's smile is still there, but it faltered; his expression now tinged with something that Mercutio can't quite pin down.
"You don't have to listen to me talking, if you don't want to. Once again, am I forcing you? Sure am not." His eyes find the clock. He has no idea how come it's after 2 PM already, but that means that the classes for the day are long over. He gets up from his spot, flashing Tybalt one more smile. "You're free to just walk away anytime."
"It's impossible to run away from you." Tybalt huffs. To Mercutio's surprise, he also gets up; they walk together, almost hand in hand. "You're always around somewhere."
"Yet you don't act like you're trying to escape, do you now?" Mercutio pushes the door of the cafeteria open, walking into his room. Tybalt still follows, apparently not worried about being on Monty's property. He isn't even looking around much, as if he's been there before. Which he hasn't; that Mercutio knows. "Man, you keep this up and I might get under the impression that you don't actually hate me."
Tybalt huffs yet again. He stands with hands in his pockets, as Mercutio leans on his desk. He's not meeting his eyes all of the sudden.
"Maybe because I don't hate you."
Mercutio laughs again. Tybalt doesn't look like he's joking, but at the same time, the words feel absurd in his mouth.
"Right. As if."
They lock eyes. There's something weird in Tybalt's glance; it keeps bothering Mercutio that there's something behind those grey eyes of his that he doesn't understand; something behind that mask that he can never know. He's never going to be let close enough to take a glance behind it. It shouldn't sting as much as it does.
Tybalt considers him. Then slowly speaks.
"Do you hate me?"
Mercutio's mouth goes dry.
The obvious answer would be yes. Because they're sworn enemies. Their families have been fighting for as long as they can remember; they have been fighting for as long as they can remember. With all the fights, and arguments and everything the answer should've been obvious.
And yet, Mercutio is standing there — Tybalt's staring at him, just meters apart — and his mouth feels dry.
"Listen. This is just how things are between us, right, Capp?" He gives him a bit of a crooked smile, taking a few steps closer to pat him on the shoulder. "I tease you a bit, we get into an argument, sometimes we get into a fight. We go off to lick our wounds, go to sleep, then rise and repeat, right, pretty boy?" He wants to drop his hand, but ends up caressing Tybalt's arm along the way. It sends chills down his spine. "It's been like that as long as we can remember. Why else if not because we're sworn enemies?"
Tybalt continues staring at him, and it makes Mercutio slowly run out words to say. This is completely normal though. Isn't it? This tension between two sworn enemies, that makes one of their hearts race, thoughts suddenly evaporating from his mind. So normal for two sworn enemies. Tybalt continues staring at Mercutio.
"Fucking hell, you're so dense sometimes." He finally says, promptly taking Mercutio's face in his hands and then kissing him.
...very much a thing that sworn enemies do.
Mercutio doesn't know what's going on around him. He just feels Tybalt's hands on his cheeks, Tybalt's lips on his own. It feels so fucking easy to kiss him; his eyes close, his hands find their way to Tybalt's hair, which is as soft as it looks, and they get lost in this moment. It feels natural like breathing; and Mercutio's mind — despite mostly shutting down because Tybalt is kissing him — wonders how he could ever live without the taste of Tybalt's lips.
Then the kiss breaks. They're both breathless, leaning their foreheads on one another, wanting to grasp some air but not wanting to move away.
"Holy fuck," Mercutio whispers.
And then, of course, he wakes up.
Mercutio sits up in his bed with a soft gasp.
It still must be the middle of the night. A full moon is shining through the window, stars are glowing gently up in the sky. His hands grip tightly on the sheets. He's in his bed. In his pajamas. Yet still a little bit breathless.
It was all just a dream.
Which- which makes sense, to be fair. Tybalt isn't this nice, in reality. He'd never be so nice to him, of all people. He never smiles this much. Not to him, of all people.
And, oh Watcher, he'd never kiss him, that's for sure.
Mercutio falls back onto the pillows with a sigh. It's almost involuntary that his fingers gently trace over his lips. The scene is still vivid in his mind; he sees it whenever he closes his eyes, and it keeps replaying, over and over again, and Mercutio doesn't know if he loves it or hates it.
This is Tybalt, for Watcher's sake. The Tybalt Capp. He did not spend the last weeks teasing Romeo about his ridiculous relationship with Juliette just to lay in bed, sleepless, because of a dream about fucking Tybalt.
…Yet here he is.
This- this doesn't mean anything though, right? That is… well, having a whole dream dedicated to just talking to someone, ending with what could possibly be described as a make out session doesn't feel like nothing. On the other hand, Mercutio had a dream yesterday that Romeo was a frog. If he woke up yesterday and Romeo was not, in fact, a frog, then he's not going to wake up today with his relationship with Tybalt any different from what it always has been. So no kissing him anytime soon.
...there's a part of Mercutio that wonders if he's sure if that's a good thing.
Mercutio stares at the ceiling with a growing feeling that this might be a long, long night.