A/N: I used to have a whole long T/M relationship story posted, but I took it down due to lack of interest and my being lazy. This was going to be one of the later chapters - it's their last time together. It's slash, and semi-graphic. And depressing. Enjoy (?).
It was not quite dawn yet when Mercutio awoke to an insistent tapping on his window. Well. That was odd. He sat up, crossed his arms, and nodded permission for Tybalt to come in.
They stared at each other for a while in silence. Then: "Did you come here to fight again?"
Tybalt shook his head no.
"Then… did you come here to apologize?"
Tybalt crossed the room to stand in front of him, silently stripping off his jacket on the way. He went down to his knees and opened Mercutio's pants and without further ado put him in his mouth.
"Oh." As far as apologies went, Mercutio supposed this might be one of the better ones he'd had in a while. Tybalt raised his eyes for just a moment before looking back at what he was doing, doing it better this time than ever, with all the little tricks and touches they had discovered together over the past few months.
Mercutio scooted closer to the edge of the bed to make them a little more comfortable. He was surprised, actually, that Tybalt had chosen this position; unless he was in the mood for something to feel terribly dirty, he usually preferred a version that did not leave him kneeling on the floor while his partner towered over him.
Mercutio stroked his hair, pet him under the jaw where he could feel the muscles move, careful to avoid the back of the head which Tybalt always found objectionable. He groaned and whispered worshipful nothings when Tybalt nudged his thighs apart so he could get at all the sensitive spots between.
It felt so good that he wanted to just lie back and savor it, so after a bit he reached down for his partner's shoulders. "Come up here," he breathed.
Still without a word, hardly interrupting his licking for even a second, Tybalt joined him on the bed, on all fours beside him and facing his feet.
Mercutio remembered some of the possibilities of this position and sure enough Tybalt didn't disappoint: he went down down down, taking it all the way into his throat and squeezing, gulping on it… then pulled back a moment to breathe, and did it again. "Oh sweet Jesus that's…" Mercutio was grabbing at the sheets, squirming.
Tybalt eventually moved to kneel between his partner's spread legs, and bent his head to continue. From here he noticed Mercutio's white-knuckled grip on the bedding, and dislodged his hands one at a time to move them to his own shoulders.
Even then, still mindful of that huge, annoying streak of pride, Mercutio didn't do anything that could remotely be construed as controlling or (God forbid) degrading. Instead, he just petted, lightly, all the while gasping things like "That's perfect, ah yes please…"
When Tybalt sat up to flip his hair back out of his face, Mercutio grinned because even in the semidark he knew exactly what the movement looked like and could picture it in perfect glorious detail. He felt a drop of something land on his stomach, and then another, and he shuddered hard. He loved to know that Tybalt had broken a sweat over him, that he was working hard for him, putting forth serious effort to please.
"Tybalt, my God it's so good… Please more – don't stop…" and Tybalt shifted back down, dripping on him again as he did so. There was no cat-and-saucer fastidiousness this time; he was fully committed, sucking him in fast and deep, taking his cues from Mercutio's gasps and the involuntary jerking of his hips.
Though he didn't rush it – he eased off and slowed every now and again to let his partner come back down to earth a little – Tybalt was doing such a good job that soon, already, it was time.
Mercutio usually let him choose his own moment for pulling away, since he preferred this to being called off like a puppy. Today, though, it seemed he was miscalculating – it was time and he showed no signs of stopping. Mercutio squeezed his shoulder. "You- might want-…"
Tybalt shrugged him off, and continued. If anything he was sucking harder now, holding Mercutio's hips for leverage...
"Tybalt-…" Mercutio grasped mindlessly at his hair as he climaxed. Tybalt stayed until he was quite finished… and then (instead of leaping up to spit all over his partner's face, the way he had the last time Mercutio broke the never-ever-ever-in-my-mouth rule), this time he just crawled up slowly, kissing his stomach and shoulder before coming to rest against his chest.
Too buzzed with pleasure still to wonder about this unusual display of affection, Mercutio simply enjoyed it, rubbing his back and staring at the ceiling as the light came in.
It was quiet for so long that he wondered if Tybalt had gone to sleep. But then, jarring him out of his post-coital haze twenty minutes later: "No woman will ever be able to touch you the way I did."
Mercutio tried to make sense of the words, but he was distracted by the way Tybalt's voice had gone all hoarse with the sucking. It was simply too sexy to think past. "I don't... What do you mean?" he asked at last.
"I mean this is goodbye." He wouldn't meet Mercutio's eyes. "I should not have shouted at you last night. I realize I have no right to be angry, and I hope you see that I…" he cleared his throat and forced the word out: "That I care for you, that I wish you the best." Finally he did sit up and, still looking away, finished his explanation. "But I can't continue on like this knowing you're about to be married. I can't do it. We are through."
"Wh- What? Through? Just because I'm…" He sat up, too, and held Tybalt's shoulders from behind. "Listen, that doesn't mean we have to stop. I mean, why would we? It's- it's not as though…"
Tybalt held up a hand. "Careful," he said, without turning to look. "You're close to saying something that will make me hate you."
"Hate me?" he repeated in confusion, as Tybalt stood up. "But I haven't-… Tybalt? Look at me! You can't just walk out – talk to me, you owe me that at least." He was panicking – one minute they were cuddling more happily than ever, and now…what?
Tybalt stopped about a foot from the door. He turned just long enough to say, "I do wish you well, but don't ever speak to me again. Goodbye." Then he was gone, and Mercutio was left sitting on the bed, with his pants down, wondering what the hell had just happened.
The first piece came to him all in a flash. Tybalt's eyes were a little – just a little – unusually puffy. His voice was ragged, and those drops of not-sweat that had been so exciting... "For God's sake, he was crying," he breathed aloud. "How did I not notice?"
Because it made no sense, that's how. Tybalt never cried. Not for stab wounds, not over dead friends, not during horrific nightmares – never. And especially not now – this morning had been delicious. What on earth could have upset him this morning?
"Oh, God." The next revelation was a longer moment in coming, mainly because it was even further outside the realm of the possible. Or was it? Tybalt had come right out said it, after all…
I care for you.
He didn't mean that. (But Tybalt didn't say words just to hear them…)
Don't marry her.
He must have been joking. (But Tybalt didn't joke.)
You're mine, Mercutio. You belong to me.
And he'd agreed to that, how many times, he'd said yes, completely, yours. Why should he be surprised that Tybalt had taken him at his word? When he pulled the covers over their heads some chilly morning whispering Tybalt let's just stay here forever, when he threw around phrases like I missed you and trust me at every possible opportunity… Of course Tybalt would fall for him in the end. How on earth had he not seen this coming?
Maybe he really was as big a fool as people always said.
I may also someday repost the chapter with the dinner and the fork, because I like that one too. But otherwise, this is probably it for my T/M for a little bit.
In the meantime, pretty please review! And if you want to read all the stuff that came before this, review or PM me and I'll dig up a copy.