Sometimes Mercutio can't stand the way Benvolio won't look at him.
Benvolio is perfection to Mercutio. Benvolio's curls fall in ways that make him look angelic, his eyes are soft and warm, and he has skin that looks so smooth, that Mercutio's fingers are always itching to touch.
But Mercutio can't stand the attention Benvolio gives to his books. Attention that's not given to him.
He will spend the entire day underneath a tree in the Montague's courtyard, surround by books and journals. Mercutio will try to drag him away, to reason with him. (Life doesn't exist within the confinements of a page!)
Benvolio will just laugh at him, shake his head (a few curls will fall across his face and Mercutio's cheeks will flush), and say 'there is more life within books than you can ever realise, my friend'.
Benvolio is tantalising and just out of reach. Like the forbidden fruit at the very top of the tree.
And even though Mercutio has enough energy to rival the sun, he doesn't know if he has enough strength to bring Benvolio down.
And now, I'm keeping my head in the clouds
And it's not so tragic, if I don't look down
So Mercutio drinks, because when he drinks enough, his heart unclenches and he can think about Benvolio again.
When Mercutio is drunk, he can laugh at Benvolio and how serious he is. How Benvolio can't see past the pages of his own books, into the glorious world around him.
But there is still a part of him that the wine can't numb. There is a piece of his heart that belongs to Benvolio, that will never be satisfied until Benvolio looks at him.
Mercutio wishes Benvolio would just let him in. He wishes Benvolio would let Mercutio show him the world, instead of his stupid books.
One night, Mercutio has consumed a larger amount of alcohol than usual (Benvolio ignored his invitation to a party that night, and Mercutio knew it was going to be a really good party, and why can't Benvolio just have fun with him for once), and somehow he managed to stumble his way to the Montague's. He had left Romeo behind somewhere, and honestly didn't care right at that moment if his friend was ok. So it was his subconscious steering him towards the one thing he wanted, and the one thing it seemed he couldn't have.
It's well into the night and no one's awake, but Mercutio's drunk and that doesn't register. The only thing running through his brain is Benvolio and Benvolio's eyes, mocking him because Mercutio isn't entertaining enough to capture his attention for even a night.
And so he's climbing up Benvolio's balcony. He stumbles a little with the footing, but eventually makes it. He collapses, his heart racing from adrenaline, alcohol, and desperation.
He can hear rustling in Benvolio's room, a candle gets snuffed out, and Benvolio joins him on the balcony.
'Mercutio? What on Earth are you doing?'
Mercutio looks up at Benvolio, and doesn't fail to notice how Benvolio is leaning over him, how the moon was particularly bright tonight, and how Benvolio's hair is illuminated around him like a halo. Mercutio instinctively reaches out to touch a curl of Benvolio's hair.
Benvolio starts, pulling out of reach. He stares down at Mercutio incredulously, silent.
Somewhere in the back of his mind Mercutio realises he needs a reason for why he's on Benvolio's balcony well into the godforsaken hours of the night, but finds that he honestly doesn't have one.
He can feel the words bubbling at his lips, about to escape, and before he can prevent them, they're pouring out.
'What is possibly so exciting about a bunch of books? What can be so great about them that you'll never do anything with me?'
Benvolio blinks, stunned. Mercutio sits up, bringing his face closer to Benvolio's, saying 'You won't go out with me, you barely talk to me, you won't...'
Mercutio voice trails away as he watches Benvolio's mouth curve into a grin.
'Are you jealous, Mercutio?' Benvolio says softly, too close to Mercutio's ear - it tickles. Mercutio shivers.
He finds himself backpedaling, trying to regain what little footing he had. 'I-it's just...I mean, everyone else...I'm not the only...'
But Mercutio's words die in his throat again as Benvolio stands up to lean against the balcony railing, looking up at the moon.
'Just because I don't look at the world with you, or even in the same way as you, doesn't mean I don't sit back and wonder sometimes Mercutio.' Benvolio says, grin still on his face. 'Books help me with that, they give me examples of how to enjoy life and what it has to offer. Books show me how to live.'
The moonlight reflects beautifully off of Benvolio's skin, and, like always, Mercutio wants to touch it.
But he doesn't. Mercutio can feel his insides turning to ice as he registers the adoration in Benvolio's voice, the love.
If only Mercutio could just have but a little of that admiration. Just enough to satisfy him, to quench his need of Benvolio's attention.
But Mercutio knows, he knows that it would never be enough for him.
As he looks at Benvolio's face, and Benvolio doesn't look at him, Mercutio knows he could never have enough of Benvolio.
For once, Mercutio doesn't want to scream and shout, he doesn't want to make a scene. So before Benvolio can notice, he slips back down the balcony and escapes.
And in a parallel universe
It's me you can't resist
Romeo doesn't understand why Mercutio refuses to visit anymore.
He tries to explain this to his cousin, that Mercutio must have finally gone completely mad. Why else would he deny his best friend's company?
Benvolio just dusts off a page in his book and says nothing.
Romeo's eyes squint, and something in his mind clicks.
'Benvolio, go get Mercutio.'
Benvolio looks up, eyebrows raised. 'Why me?'
Romeo smiles. 'He'll come if you get him.'
Benvolio sighs, but shuts his book.
(But as Benvolio leaves, he smiles to himself, and Romeo isn't the only one who understands something about Mercutio that afternoon.)
Emerging from my world
Imagine living in a box
And I won't come up
Until I've broken all the locks
Mercutio thinks his hearing has finally gone when a servant tells him Benvolio is waiting for him in the garden.
But, when Mercutio ventures out into the garden, there's Benvolio...reading.
Mercutio wants nothing more than to toss that book into the fountain.
However, hearing Mercutio's footsteps, Benvolio shuts his book. Mercutio's brain stutters a bit at this.
And Benvolio looks up at Mercutio, his eyes bright and a small smile on his face.
Mercutio feels his heart stop all together.
Even though Mercutio's head is pounding with a horrid hangover, he still has enough brain function to ask, 'Why are you here?'
Benvolio's smile widens, Mercutio's heart flutters.
'Romeo's been complaining, saying his friend is ignoring him,' says Benvolio, staring into Mercutio's eyes. 'I'm doing him a favor and pulling you out of your melancholy.'
Mercutio doesn't bother to ask how Benvolio knew he was sad, he suspects Benvolio knows quite a bit more than he lets on. Must be all those books.
'And also, I had something I wanted to show you.' Benvolio admits, smiling so bright Mercutio is sure he's going to be blinded.
Mercutio's speechless, still unable to get over the fact that Benvolio actually made the effort to find him, and to also take him somewhere.
Benvolio can tell this, and he laughs. Mercutio flushes.
'Come on.' Benvolio says, wrapping Mercutio's arm around his, and pulling him out of the garden.
Submerging from your world
And back into my bliss
A day rolled into one
Is burning on my lips
'What is it you wanted to show me?' Mercutio asks. They're at Montague's, back on Benvolio's balcony actually. This time Mercutio is the one looking out at the courtyard, and Benvolio is laying down, staring up at the sky.
Benvolio tugs on Mercutio's shirt, pulling him down next to him. Mercutio lays down awkwardly, not sure how close to lay to Benvolio.
Benvolio scoots closer, until their hips and shoulders are touching.
He points up at the sky, saying, 'Books taught me that you can often find interesting shapes in the clouds.' Benvolio glances at Mercutio, who was already staring at Benvolio's face. Like ritual, Benvolio grins and Mercutio's face turns a shade darker.
'Look.' Benvolio points out a particular cloud. 'What do you see?'
Mercutio studies it, and sees something in it, but doesn't want to sound so ridiculous to Benvolio. He doesn't want to sound any less intelligent than Benvolio's books.
Benvolio pokes him. 'Just the first thing you think of.'
Mercutio sighs. 'It looks like Romeo, doesn't it? Look, there's the nose...'
Benvolio laughs into Mercutio shoulder, gripping his arm.
They lay like that for a while, pointing out shapes in the clouds, smiling and laughing together.
As the sun creeps farther overhead, and the heat picks up, they can feel themselves getting tired.
Benvolio's nose is brushing Mercutio's, and Mercutio is trying his hardest not to let his eyes droop close.
Mercutio opens his eyes and sees Benvolio looking down at him.
There's something fantastic about the way Benvolio is looking at Mercutio now, and Mercutio shivers, even though the heat is causing his clothes to stick to his skin.
Benvolio is choosing his words carefully. 'Books teach me a lot of things Mercutio, but not everything.' He pauses, his face so close to Mercutio's now.
Mercutio can feel his eyes fluttering back close and Benvolio whispers, 'Books can never replace you.'
When Benvolio's lips meet his, Mercutio is in a bliss that threatens his entire body to shake in happiness.
Somehow Mercutio didn't have to fight his way to the top for Benvolio, but Benvolio instead fell down to him.
And Mercutio welcomed him with open arms.
AN: I didn't intend this to be as long as it is (lol it's not even that long, but it's long for me), but it sort of just wrote itself.
Aish, the ending is cheesy...but I actually think I like it. :3
I intended for this to be a little more melancholy, but you know what? I decided I wanted a happy ending. :)
Lyrics from 'As If By Magic' by La Roux. Yes, you can basically expect only songfics from me. It's where I get my inspiration.