Chapter Text
It was early spring and the city of Verona had finally started to wake from the cold dormancy of winter. Birds sang and flowers bloomed; overnight, groups of trees had suddenly sprouted leaves that had a waxy sheen; bright green against blue skies. It had been a full week of true spring weather, warm and humid without a single day of unexpected sudden freeze. Cats lounged lazily upon stone fences that the dogs didn’t even bother to bark at, too busy sleeping upon the warm steps of their homes.
Mercutio greatly appreciated the change in weather. He enjoyed winter when it was cold and bitter, but the weird mix of somewhat warm and muddy had to be his least favourite time of year. In the end, he truly was just a summer person and couldn’t wait for the sharp heat and long days, but he could settle with this for now.
He’d started leaving his windows open, fresh air circulating and ruffling at the curled sides of posters that have adorned his walls for almost a decade now. His room was quite simple, surprising most of his friends when they came over, but he always knew he’d be leaving at some point, so while it was certainly personalized, it remained minimalistic. Especially given that it was his last semester in his senior year and piles of books and homework no longer covered his desk or sat scattered around his floor.
It felt surreal to have made it to his final year in high school in one piece, there always had been a small inkling in the back of his mind that he’d die young, but even during the most tense part of his life in the past year, he’d still made it out fine. It was a wonder how Romeo and Juliet had made it out either, but even through all the trials and tribulations of their relationship they were still going strong; it was very sweet to see. And while Tybalt would never admit it, Mercutio believed the events brought them all a little closer together, despite the fact that now he, Tybalt, Rosaline, and Valentine would be leaving soon.
Well, he hadn’t thought that far ahead yet, but he just assumed everyone always went off somewhere after high school. He had more important things to be worrying about. For starters, he was the captain of the Verona High School soccer team–much to Tybalt’s dismay–and they had played an incredible season, the end of which and semifinals were just around the corner.
Second, his parents would be coming home soon for graduation. They had been very young when he and Valentine were born, and once they reached the age of six they had been primarily in the care of their uncle while their parents traveled for their jobs. He never felt unloved, they just had their own lives to live and Mercutio understood that. Perhaps he inherited too much of their vagabond nature; he was never able to envision himself in one place for too long. They still visited when they had a chance, sending gifts or letters in the mail when they couldn’t. Mercutio didn’t harbor any ill will against them, but the thought of his mother and father certainly being there made him feel like he was young on Christmas morning again.
And third… Well, let’s just say Mercutio was very glad he took the advanced route through school and had very few classes now, because with the mental turmoil he was in he could not imagine having to pass college calc at the same time. It was a delicate situation and one that he’d let go on far, far too long, but he was selfish and held on to the slightest hope that something, anything could happen between them but it hadn’t, and it won’t. He’d finally made his peace with it sometime toward the beginning of the year, he needed to get over it and begin to look ahead, start anew in his life. It was simply a childish obsession because he was the one person he could never have and the chase after him was exciting. Nothing more. Mercutio was perfectly happy leaving everything unsaid, it was better for them, safer.
Which is why now, sometime after midnight, as he sat leaning back on the soft leather of the couch in Romeo’s house, he felt super normal about the fact that Benvolio had fallen asleep against him. Yeah, this is fine. Totally fine. Perfect, even.
Mercutio had kept his head back against the cushion, pretending to sleep but really had spent the past half an hour staring at the ceiling before he couldn’t take it anymore and slowly glanced at the face sleeping on his shoulder, as if any wrong move would suddenly ruin the moment.
The right side of Benvolio’s face was scrunched up against him, very akin to the look of his cat when Mercutio felt the intense need to mess with him, cupping the little, fluffy face in his hands and mushing it around while speaking high-pitched gibberish at him. Mercutio silently cursed himself for the mental image. His long eyelashes fluttered every once in a while; Benvolio rarely slept soundly. His hair curled over his ears and got flattened against Mercutio’s shirt. The tips of his fingers, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, twitched and tensed. His breathing was slow and rhythmic, Mercutio had focused in to match it some time ago. The feelings were incredibly biased and Mercutio would never be able to give any other meaning to them. For example, Romeo was sprawled out and asleep to his right and he looked funny as hell, but if that had been how Benvolio was sleeping, he’d probably be wishing he could make him more comfortable. The domesticity of the moment made his chest tighten.
It hurt like hell. He knew for his own sake he should’ve done something about this before it happened; he should’ve sat further away, gone home instead of staying the night, but he just couldn’t. Beneath the, albeit thin, layer of common sense in his brain was the rest of his personality built upon his own desires and his need to achieve them. Benvolio was a desire of his, but he was very different from the rest. Benvolio was kept behind some sort of glass box, high upon a pedestal that Mercutio could only gaze at from afar. Even if he could somehow press himself against the glass and try to pry it open, it would never work; he’d always be in some other untouchable world. Still in this moment he felt that boundary between them, it was just thin enough to share their body heat. He wanted to indulge himself in even the slightest victory, even if for just a moment, even if no one ever knew any better.
And so, while half of him wanted to slap himself for letting his greed win, Mercutio leaned a little more into him. His arm had grown almost numb from being pressed into his side, his hand sitting uselessly on his own knee. Mercutio shifted it the slightest amount until his fingers just barely pressed against Benvolio’s leg, something he imagined could be a comforting gesture in another life. He held his breath for a moment, convinced he’d wake up at the softest touch, but he continued sleeping soundly against his shoulder. Mercutio felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, but he already let himself indulge in too much, he’d rather not get too excited about this. Shutting his eyes, he lets his head slide a few inches closer to Benvolio’s, believing they’d both sleep soundly tonight.
Since middle school, Mercutio Escalus had been irrevocably in love with Benvolio Montague. It had just been something that he realized one day, when his brother had asked why he was so touchy with Benvolio. He’d argued that he was like that with everyone, which was pretty true, but Valentine was very adamant when he said something was different about how he acted with Benvolio. After that, Mercutio realized he had a name to put to the warmer feeling he got when he was around Benvolio.
He instantly became very thankful that he was as touchy of a person as he was. No one batted an eye when he leaned in too close, drew an arm over his shoulders, or placed a hand on his back when they walked together. He was even more thankful that he felt very little shame and especially none when he felt challenged or wanted to flirt; pulling Benvolio into a dance when he claimed Mercutio would trip over his own feet if he tried, bringing his hand to Benvolio’s jaw and running his thumb over his cheek with a sly comment because Mercutio was nothing if not loud, assertive, and spiking Benvolio’s cortisol levels.
It came very naturally to him, these acts and behaviors. He could chastise Romeo all he wanted about how in the clouds he was about romance but somewhere deep down he admired him for how sweetly he saw love. Mercutio was far more of the mind that love was grounded and physical and sharp, less like a dream and more like the dull pain from a scraped knee. He’d felt the fleeting sense of affection towards others at times, but never was it quite like what he felt towards Benvolio. It was whole body, every nerve and synapse; there had never been a time since he’d started thinking independently that his skin didn’t know the cells of him. Good God, he thought to himself in his last moments of wakefulness, I don’t think I’ll ever get over him.
The weight on the couch shifted beside him. Mercutio blinked his eyes open in the few seconds of unremembering bliss of morning, then realized his vision had focused onto the back of Benvolio, sitting up on the edge of the couch very slowly as if not to wake him. Right. He could joke about this easily and brush it off but something about that pained him.
His heart started to race, Benvolio would get up and look back at him, notice that he was awake and hadn’t said anything and for all he knew this could be the start of the end of their friendship. He truly only had one route to take, for entirely altruistic reasons of course.
In his head, he did this because it would be better for both of them; they wouldn’t have to speak about it and Benvolio could have a chance to settle down. Really though, he shut his eyes and steadied his breathing because he wondered if Benvolio thought he was asleep, would he reach out and fix his mused hair? Show some type of affection he was afraid to show when they were both awake?
He felt Benvolio stand, then a long pause of no sound. Mercutio didn’t think he’d ever been this still in his life. The angle he’d slept in, once comfortable and warm, now started to turn on him as well; an overwhelming need to shake the blood flow in his hands back to normal and at least bounce his leg if nothing else.
But then he walked off and nothing had happened. Each step was light and given away only by the creaks of the floor, traveling around and behind the couch towards the kitchen.
It was a welcome awakening that Mercutio honestly needed; they were just friends and always had been. He opened his eyes and sunk further into the couch, watching the light filter in the windows as tree branches swayed outside.
“Right.” He sighed to himself, deciding to lay in the moment a little longer. Romeo was speaking in the kitchen, softer than the clink of pans and the fridge door opening. Well, he couldn’t just stay here forever; he’d kick himself about this later.
Painfully and with a false sense of resolve he drew himself up, stretching his arms over his head as a yawn overcame him. He headed to the kitchen, stopping a bit before the entry way as Romeo’s laugh rang out, poorly stifled.
“Will you be quiet?” Benvolio hissed, glaring daggers into the back of Romeo who was busy at the stove.
“Okay okay fine! Yup. Very quiet. Super quiet.” Romeo nodded in almost believable sincerity. “I won’t comment on anything ever again.”
Benvolio was not impressed.
“Romeo.”
“I wasn’t even saying anything, Benny, don’t even worry about it.”
“You’re– ugh.” He exhaled sharply and rolled his eyes as Romeo fluttered about the kitchen as pancakes cooked on the stove. Mercutio smiled slightly to himself, their banter was always fun to see.
Well, he had to make his entrance at some point, finally walking through the archway with a deep breath, rubbing his eyes as he entered a new stage.
“Oh. Good morning.” Benvolio gave him a small nod before returning his eyes to the cup in his hands, the tips of his ears seemed a little red.
“Ah! Mercutio!” Romeo turned and beamed at him, his mother’s valentine’s themed apron protecting his shirt. “Good morning!”
“Morning, lively as ever in here,” Mercutio pulled a chair out beside Benvolio, propping his arms on the table and tilting his head at him. “What’s up with this?” He gestured vaguely at Benvolio’s stiff posture, chin sitting upon his knees that were drawn to his chest. Mercutio couldn’t help himself. “Sleep on the wrong side of the bed?”
Benvolio scowled, tapping his fingers along the side of the cup in his hands.
“No.” He said simply. Romeo giggled from where he stood at the stove. “Stop that.”
Romeo turned and put his hand on his hip, gesturing with the rubber spatula in his hand.
“I am being a very loving friend and brother to you right now and making both of us breakfast. I recommend you be a little nicer to me, hmm?” He sighed in mock annoyance, then regained his regular animated tone and posture. “Did you want any, Mercutio?”
“No, I’m okay, I’ll probably head back home soon anyway and just eat there.” He mused, leaning back and tipping his char onto one set of legs.
“Whatever you say…” Romeo hummed, turning to open the fridge and peer inside. Mercutio turned his eyes to Benvolio, his own gaze transfixed on the water in his cup that he gently turned in his hands. He seemed pensive.
“Ben, did you eat the rest of the blueberries the other day?” Romeo asked with his head halfway inside the fridge.
“There’s a second container, I think it fell in the back a little.” He responded instantly. The question took him out of whatever stupor he was in, his eyes meeting Mercutio’s with an already defensive expression. “What?”
“Nothing!” He tiled his head, dropping his chair back onto the floor and leaned a bit closer. “Do you not want me to look at you?”
“No, I-” He realized what he was half tricked into saying and took a deep breath and shut his eyes. Mercutio giggled.
“Buon appetito!” Romeo placed a plate and utensils in front of his cousin and split the weird air between them, along with a bowl of fruit and powdered sugar. “I worked very hard on this so you better enjoy it.”
The pancake was perfectly round with blueberries strategically placed to make a smiley face.
“Oh wow, is this what won Juliet over?” Benvolio raised his eyebrows at the sight, the slight affection in his face betrayed his indifferent tone.
“That and more.” Romeo smiled proudly and took his apron off and folded it over the oven door handle, then sat down with his own pancake shaped into a lopsided heart. He dusted a small mountain of powdered sugar onto the top and carefully selected a few pieces of fruit from the bowl to place on top. “What’d you end up getting on your calc test?”
“Ninety.” Benvolio took the rest of the fruit, opting out of the sugar. “Stupid mistakes though.”
“Same ones that we went over?” Mercutio asked; he’d taken it the year before and was quick with numbers, so they often studied together.
“No actually, a newer, stupider one,” he sighed, slicing the edge of his pancake with his fork into bite-sized pieces. “Just some addition stuff that I skimmed over and didn’t catch, and I got lost in an integral and stupid negative exponents.”
“Ah, integrals,” Mercutio mused wistfully, shaking his head. “I miss when that was the culmination of calculus.” Benvolio nodded.
“Yeah I’m way over what I need for my math credits. I don't think I’m taking any next year.”
“You can help me with mine!” Romeo beamed, Benvolio waved him off.
“You’ll do fine, you're taking business math.”
“They’re all word problems though.”
“You have taken almost every language class our school offers and several online ones, that should be your strong suit,” Mercutio countered.
“Okay, but this is math, which is not my strong suit,” Romeo pointedly stabbed his fork into the middle of his pancake. “Anyway, I don’t want to think about next year because Mercutio is leaving us.”
Mercutio suddenly received two side-eyes and stark silence.
“Sorry you weren’t born earlier and I wasn’t going to get held back to stay with you.”
“I don’t know it is a little mean to not,” Romeo grumbled in mock annoyance, “you say you’re our best friend and won’t even be around our senior year.”
“I’ll be around, just not in school.”
“That’s the problem!”
Mercutio chuckled and leaned over the table with his head against his fist. He agreed with Romeo’s complaints; he didn’t even know where he wanted to go either, his whole life had revolved around his friends. How on Earth could he begin to separate from them?
Romeo and Benvolio became enveloped in their own conversation, leaving Mercutio alone in his mind for a moment. He could easily not go anywhere for at least a year or two, his uncle wouldn’t mind and would probably enjoy having him around more. Although he did have passions he wanted to pursue; sports had always been fun and he enjoyed the collaborative aspect, he’d gotten into photography recently, hell, he’d always been told he was great on stage and had always been a part of the school’s theatre productions. He could go almost anywhere if he wanted to, but nothing really spoke to him.
He eyed a piece of pancake that had ended up on the edge of Benvolio’s plate. Hmm. Benvolio looked engrossed enough in the conversation…
“Hey!” Benvolio swatted at his hand with his fork. “Romeo asked if you wanted one and you said no. Hands off.”
“It tastes better off someone else’s plate…” Mercutio pouted, his fingers still inching over until he’d slowly lifted it off his plate. Benvolio tried to argue but just rolled his eyes instead. Mercutio happily ate his winnings and returned to lean back in his chair. “I don’t know,” he started, still stuck on his train of thought, “if you had tried hard enough you all could’ve skipped a grade and graduated with me.”
“Biology kicked my ass, I could not have done that. I think Ben was done with high school last year though.”
“Just because I’m in APs doesn’t mean I wasn’t also struggling, just at a calculus level and not fundamental geometry.”
“Ouch, kick a man while he’s down, will ya?” Romeo slumped back in his chair and held a hand to his heart.
“You’re down?”
“Ah…” He sighed, a far off look in his eyes. “I haven’t thought of how to ask Juliet to prom with me and I’m worried she’ll say no…”
Benvolio’s slightly worried expression immediately dropped.
“I’m not listening to this.”
“Why on Earth would she say no?” Mercutio asked.
“Because…” Romeo searched for a reason. He couldn’t find one. “I don’t know, but what if she does.”
“She won’t because you’ve been dating for almost a year now and you love each other?”
“I want it to be special though and make it perfect and nice…”
“I’m sure she’d love whatever you do for her,” Mercutio attempted to be reassuring. “And if you don’t ask soon she’s honestly just going to ask you herself.”
“Haha yeah… I guess you're right, I’ve just been worrying about it.”
“You’re sitting here worrying about it and she’s at home probably wondering why you haven’t asked yet, might want to get on that.”
“Okay okay!” He laughed, holding his hands up in defense. “Well, how about you? Are you asking anyone to prom?”
“…Why me?”
“Oh just wondering… I mean, I think it’d be pretty easy for you. There's a lot of people who’d say yes if you’d just ask,” Romeo explained. “You only ever go with us, which is fine, but you know I just think-… You okay?”
Mercutio blinked, he’d been wide-eyed and still as stone as Romeo had been speaking.
“Oh! Ah. Yeah, ‘m fine, sorry. I mean…” He shrunk back in his chair a little, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. “Maybe I will.”
Romeo’s eyes were locked on him and his sudden change in demeanor, like a dog hearing the word treat; this was not something they saw often. Even Benvolio, who had been preoccupied with his breakfast and zoned out suddenly tuned right back in. Two sets of similar, bright, big eyes peering at him with intense interest.
“Dude.” Romeo pounced on the opportunity. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s nothing-”
“It is not nothing, who is it?”
Mercutio slid his char back.
“You know I really should be going-”
“Mercutio I swear to God…”
“Mhm never thought I’d see the day Mercutio Escalus would be embarrassed about something.” Benvolio spoke finally as Mercutio stood and pushed his chair in. He leaned over the table and smiled slyly over the rim of his cup that he held up to his face.
Mercutio stared at him, in a split second his mind had conjured their entire life together complete with early morning banter. He’d have to reprimand himself for that one later, Benvolio had set him up with a challenge and he was going to use it to regain himself.
“Embarrassed? Please.” Mercutio waved him off, trying to grasp his words in the air. “I’m just excited about… A possibility, so to say.”
“With someone?” Benvolio raised an eyebrow. “Not a chance.”
“Ah, dear Benvolio, you wound me so!” Mercutio adopted his best stage personality, swaying back with a hand clasped to his heart. “Do you really think me so unlovable?”
“No, I just…” Benvolio looked away. “Can’t imagine you with anyone.”
Mercutio saw the open ground and took it, a wide grin spreading across his face.
“So it is jealousy?”
“When did I say that?”
“You implied it.” He smiled brightly.
“Get out of my house.”
“Ah, it appears I have overstayed my welcome.” Mercutio began with a step back, “Goodbye, Romeo, I shall see you tomorrow and”–he lowered his tone and added a wink for good measure–“farewell, Benvolio, since you feel so strongly I suppose I just have to turn my possibility down and go with you, yes?” Benvolio’s expression only needed a vein showing in his forehead to complete it, but the sudden reddening of his face gave Mercutio a sudden rush of joy. “Muah, muah, bye-bye!” He sent kisses to both of them and spun around and escaped the house as quickly as he could.
He leaned back against the door, his heart thumping loudly in his ears.
Oh, fuck me.