A/N: It may not be my best, but I just couldn't help it. A little bit of a warning for die-hard slash lovers: It's not very...traditional. You'll see what I mean. Quasi-drabble.
Disclaimer: Gérard and Will own most everything. I own words, words, words. And even then, not even that. ;D Thanks be to the Moody Blues for the ironic title.
Nights in White Satin
"Good morning, beautiful. Sleep well?"
The voice came clear and ringing through the hazy mist clouding Benvolio's head. Groaning, he sat up and blearily opened his eyes, only to immediately close them from the glare of the morning light. Damn, had he let those horrible magenta drapes open? He rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust them to the harsh light – only to find a very complacent-looking Mercutio lying beside him, under the covers, naked as the day he was born.
Benvolio uttered a high-pitched yelp meant to be a scream. It lacked, however, body and instead came out whisper-thin.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Precisely, pumpkin," said Mercutio, fluttering his eyelashes coquettishly.
Benvolio gaped, wide-eyed and disbelieving. "This is not funny, Mercutio!"
"'Funny' wouldn't be how I would describe it," mused Mercutio. "'Romantic' and 'perfect', yes. Our very first night of unfettered passion was quite a success, don't you think?"
Benvolio was scrambling far away from him. "No...no..."
"Yes indeed, my sherbet lemon," said Mercutio, stretching languidly. "Of course, you were quite inebriated, but it goes to show. Is your head hurting? Aw, poor puppy. Want me to kiss and make it better?"
"No! Stay away!" Benvolio winced, grasping his head, which felt as though it was about to split in two. "Ugh..."
"You were inebriated," repeated Mercutio, a dreamy smile hovering near his mouth, "but very amorous. You were so ruggedly handsome with that unkempt hair of yours. Unable to prevent myself from taking advantage of your state, I confessed my feelings for you. You looked me dead in the eye and I knew then and there what would happen. We would have taken each other right then and there if I didn't have mind enough to lead us into your room. Afterwards, of course, you conked out on me and didn't wake up until now."
Benvolio could hardly believe it. He was so filled with shock, horror, and disgust he could barely formulate a coherent thought.
"But – but – I'm straight!"
"Oh, that again!" Mercutio wrinkled his nose delicately. "I suppose some habits die hard. You can drop the act, sweetheart. You're with me now. I know that all that. Chasing after women, that so-called infatuation you have with Sofía of the Capulets - it was all a front to disguise your passion for little ol' me. I know because for the longest time I did the same thing. But now you don't have to pretend. We don't have to pretend anymore." And with that he approached Benvolio like a cat about to pounce on a ball of yarn. He lifted his paw – er, hand – to stroke a milk-pale Benvolio.
"No!" The latter scooted away. "Look, I don't know what the hell happened last night, but I'm telling you, I'm straight! Straight as a ruler!"
"A ruler can bend, you know," said Mercutio slyly.
"That's not the point! Nothing happened between us – nothing could have happened between us. There must be some mistake, a misunderstanding –"
At this Mercutio straightened, his eyes narrowing.
"Oh, I see how it is," he declared. "You're still in love with Romeo, aren't you?"
"I knew it! I thought I was imagining things when you shouted Romeo's name at the climax, but I should have realized...you're still not over him, are you? Now as Romeo is out gallivanting with his secret lover you're using me to heal your broken heart, downing your jealousy away in drink!"
"That's – Mercutio, that's not it at all!"
"Uh-huh, sure." Dubious. "And here I thought you actually cared for me. But no! It's always Romeo this and Romeo that. Why can't it be Mercutio for a change?" and without any warning he grasped Benvolio's hands and held them between his. "Eh? What do you say? How about Mercutio and Benvolio for a change? For me?"
This time Benvolio really did scream.
A few hours before
Under the light of the full moon, in the Capulet orchard, two clandestine lovers quietly laughed with each other, a sweet soprano mingling with a husky tenor.
"...And then he sees Benvolio spectacularly smashed and says, 'Hey Romeo, help me get him upstairs, I think he's had enough.' So we take him upstairs and we're about to leave him when all of a sudden Mercutio gets an idea."
"Oh God, don't tell me, I don't even want to know," groaned Juliette, looking away before turning back and saying, "No, tell me, I do want to know."
"He took his clothes and crawled into bed with him!"
To the outsider it seemed that the orchard had come to life in a cacophony of laughter in harmony with the lovers' own amusement. The sycamore chuckled, the berry bush chortled, the chrysanthemums giggled, the oak snorted, the ivy snickered.
"And you just left him there? Oh, Romeo!"
"It was just a little bit of fun. Besides, Mercutio said not to tell and I didn't have time to argue about it with him. I wanted to see you."
"You're a horrible friend," laughed Juliette, her arms wrapping around Romeo's neck. "You're incorrigible."
"You like me for it, though."
"Not at all."
"Oh really?" A brief flurry of kisses.
"All right, all right, maybe a little..."
They laughed breathily, their foreheads touching, the orchard following suit.
A/N: Pretty much the closest thing to true slash I will ever write, at least in this fandom. I amuse myself too easily, don't I? :P Reviews are better than garlic bread, true love, and a naked Mercutio. At least I think...