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Rosaline.
Romeo's thoughts were plauged by the name. In his mind's eye he saw her face, flower like in it's delicately, yet such tenderness did nothing but wilt under Romeos gaze. It was as if he was the sun, burning himself alive in the attempt to win Rosaline's love, yet she was a peculiar flower that wanted nothing more than for it to rain.
And rain it did. Romeo was struggling under the pressure of a storm that had come and gone, but the water still weighed heavy on his lungs, and even though his gasps for air sounded like Rosaline's name, she still didn't want him, his desperate pleas doing nothing but push the girl futher away.
Perhaps it had not been the sun she disliked but instead the man who hid behind overdone metaphors of the sky. Perhaps Rosaline simply disliked him.
Romeo stared up at his ceiling feeling an overwhelming wave of despair crash over him. The rain had stopped, so why was he still drowning? Rosaline had made it clear she did not feel the same, yet every beat of Romeo's heart was for her. If beauty was a sin hell still would not dare to touch her, she was so mesmerising even satan would remain forever transfixed.
Romeo's unrequited pining was momentarily silenced by a loud, insistent knock on his bedroom door. He was just about to shout at whoever it was to leave him alone, as Romeo would rather die than get up from his bed at this paticular moment in time, before the person unceremoniously threw open the door and walked inside.
Romeo shot up, quickly shifting himself into a sitting postion and straighting his shirt. Only one person he knew would walk directly into his room without permission. Mercutio. His best friend had a habit of showing up unannounced, most days he wouldn't mind but today he wanted nothing more than to mourn the love he never got to feel.
"Benvolio said you'd still be moping," Mercutio sighed exasperatedly, flopping down onto he bed next to him.
"Benvolio says a lot of things," Romeo murmured, not meeting Mercutio's eye's.
"All of which are true, most of which are pleasent," Mercutio sing songed in that irritating way of his (Romeo actually found it rather endearing, but Mercutio hardly needed encouragement in his pestering). "Sweet Romeo, let us go out, stop your sadness the wonders of the night await us".
"They await you," Romeo correct, "I've vowed to stay here for the rest of my days, I do not care what you or Benvolio say, no matter how lovely he tries to make a party sound, I have no interest in finding a new lover when my old one hurt me so dearly".
"You were never truly lovers, she was merely loved by someone she did not dervese. Her not immediately adoring you is all the more reason to find a girl that will, you have a pretty face Romeo, use it," Mercutio said the last part with a playfull nudge.
"I am not in the mood to love again. Not now, not ever," Romeo lamented, cheeks warming at Mercutio's compliment to his appearance, why was his closest friend always so intent on teasing him?
"The second you get out there and see how stunning the rest of life is, Rosaline's face will seem as dull as the pillow you lay your head upon," Exclaimed Mercutio, throwing his hands out infront of him which did little to emphasise his point.
"Rosaline does not look dull! She is all the beauty that is left in this depressing world," Romeo cried, rivalling Mercutio's dramatics in that moment.
"She looks like a wet cat! Or perhaps a bird that crashed into a wall would be a better description, she always seems to have that dazed look about her," Mercutio mused, eye's twinkling in the way they always did when he was poking fun at someone.
Romeo remained silent and Mercutio laughed, "You can't even deny it, the object of your attractions has no thoughts behind her eyes, do you not want to be with someone who you can hold a conversation with?"
"I have you for that, don't I?" Romeo retorted turning away from Mercutio again, "Now leave me be, love hurts and I am done hurting".
"Then be done with it," Mercutio declared, leaping to his feet and outstretched his hand to Romeo.
"What?" Romeo asked incredulously, brow furrowing in confusion.
"You said you are done hurting, so be done with it. Get over this unremarkable girl and come and have fun, a simple party won't hurt you but hiding in your room forever will. You're a young man, not a little boy, let's go out! We can drink and dance and forget! I know you want to forget, Sweet Romeo, so let me help you," Mercutio's tone became more convincing, a grin spreading across his charming features, hand remaining outstretched.
A smile ghosted Romeo's own lips for the first time in while, he wasn't suprised it was Mercutio who had brought it out of him. If Romeo was the sun then Mercutio was the stars, the only thing keeping him company in his darkest moments, illuminating the night with his bright laughter and playfull jokes.
Love was easy with Mercutio, a domestic comfort he couldn't help but indulge in. Soulmates didn't always have to be romantic and even if Romeo's heart ached for Rosaline, his blood flowed for Mercutio. Every cell in his body knew the man by name, they had grown up together and they would grow old together, their friendship was a special kind, one not even fate could take away.
Yet Romeo couldn't help but wonder sometimes, alone in the middle of the night, if he was allowed to love Mercutio as he did Rosaline, would life be different?
These thoughts made him feel dirty, as if it was wrong somehow to dream, to dream of a world where he was a women so Mercutio would ask him to dance and not another nameless girl. These thoughts made it feel sinful to want to be held the sameway he'd always been taught to hold.
Romeo pulled his mind away from the mess emotions that had began twisting inside him. He should still be upset about Rosaline, not dwelling on this daydreamed version of him and Mercutio. His attempts to bring Rosaline to the forefront of his mind again proved futile as Mercutio hand was right there, calloused and inviting, and in that moment Romeo wanted to do nothing more than take it in his own.
Mercutio pulled him to his feet and suddenly he was breathing again. Not the pathetic gasps of Rosaline's name, but the steady breath of his own free will. As if Mercutio had put the air baxk into his lungs, gentle touch and teasing words allowing him to finally breathe. His head was above water and suddenly he could no longer put his finger on why he had been drowning in the first place.
Rosaline.
The girl who had broken his heart and dragged down the pieces deep into the ocean. Romeo had promised to spend the rest of his life in the water longing for her, but what if he didn't want to do that anymore?
Mercutio.
His best friend. The person who had taken time out of his day to come and cheer Romeo up, to convince him to have fun. Mercutio could be with any girl he wanted but instead he was here, begging Romeo to sneak into some stupid party with him.
Romeo's hand was still clasped in Mercutio's, even though they'd been standing for secraval long seconds now, Mercutio's raised their joint hands and said, "I hope this you agreeing to come, I've been dying to dance properly for weeks now".
"Okay," Romeo replied quietly.
Mercutio grinned widely, "Okay? So we're going?"
"No, I still do not wish to party" Romeo stated, "but I suppose we can go and dance".
Mercutio looked as if he wanted to disagree, but upon realising this was the best he was going to get out of Romeo tonight he begrudgingly relented, a smirk tugging at the courner of his mouth, "You want to dance with little old me?"
"What!? No!" Romeo spluttered, "I was suggesting we go and find a pair of Monatgue girls to dance with, instead of going to a crowded party. I mean not that I'm over Rosaline, but you said forgetting would be fun, and well I-"
"Calm down, Romeo, it is simply a dance, and anyway, it would be a bother to roam the streets for radnom people to dance with at this hour," Mercutio soothed, funny as it was ussaly Romeo telling Mercutio to slow his ramblings.
"It is more of a sin to join hands with you than it would be a Caplulet," Romeo professed, voice laced with caution.
"Our hands are already joined, aren't they?" Mercutio teased, "It seems a waste for us to not dance now".
"It will not seem a waste when we are prosecuted for our crimes," Romeo retaliated, yet his fingers remained laced with Mercutio's.
Mercutio rolled his eyes, and squeezd his hand playfully, "It is not a crime to dance with a friend".
"It is when you're alone in that friends bedroom, it is when that friend is a man," Romeo said, knowing he couldn't let himself have this, knowing he was not special enough for the heavens to simply forgive him.
If only he was a women. Maybe it was strange to wish feminity on himself and not the other man, but no part of Romeo wanted Mercutio to change. Despite what some may think, Romeo wouldn't want his friend to lose their crude wit, or hotheaded manner, traits society looked down on in women but simply ignored in men.
It was a horrible realisation to come to, that one of the reasons he found himself so oddly fascinated by Mercutio was because he was a man. He had once thought of Rosaline as angle-like but that simply wasn't true in comparison to Mercutio, the man didn't just fill Romeo's soul with light, he was the light. He consumed Romeo's very being, reminding him that burning didn't necessarily have to be a bad thing, that permitting the sun and the stars to shine was beautiful.
Mercutio was so beautiful.
Romeo was so fucked.
"We can't dance together, not like this," Romeo repeated.
"We would dance as friends, nothing more, and even then, no one has to know," M
"There is sin in secrets," Romeo pressed, feeling much like Benvolio preaching the importance of an honest man.
"Then let your heart sin, your mind can repent later," Mercutio murmured, gently taking Romeo's other hand in his own.
"What about my soul?" Romeo asked, feeling weirdly breathless as he looked into Mercutio's large, dark eye's.
Mercutio began to slowly moved the pair of them around the room, in a smooth motion than you could almost class as a dance, "What about it?"
"How is it supposed to unlearn you if I let you do this?" Romeo stressed, the last of his resistance on the edge of breaking as he allowed himself to lead in circles around his bedroom.
"And what exactly would you be letting me do?" Mercutio whispered, leaning in to his breath ghosted Romeo's ear. The man seemed to have caught on that this was about much more than dancing. Romeo didn't know if that made him happy or not, especially since he himself still wasn't sure what he wanted.
"Love me," Romeo blurted out impulsively, the words sounding more like a command than an answer, "I'd be letting you love me".
Mercutio laughed lightly, "Oh Romeo, sweet Romeo, I've never needed your permission to do that".
Romeo blushed pink, and Mercutio chuckled again, but he did not speak. The silence was so unlike him that if would of taken Romeo off guard off the warmth from the man's body hadn't been keeping him grounded. If God watched them with shame, at least he was watching, perhaps looking at what tracending any form of dance Romeo had done before would make the lord reconsider their fates.
If not then in death he'd nail their love to a cross, so one day someone will be inspired to resurrect their sin. He could live past the hatred religion had planted in him long ago if he was blessed with the thought of a future for other where something as innocent as a kiss would not be a crime.
As innocent as a kiss.
Romeo's eye's flicked to Mercutio's lips.
The twinkle in Mercutio eye told Romeo he definitely noticed.
Romeo has never prided himself on impulse control, or control of any kind really. He followed his heart and right now it was telling him if he didn't kiss Mercutio this instant it would simply stop beating in protest, so Romeo leant in and kisses him. The lips of his best friend were not soft, but slightly chapped, he did not kiss tentatively either, it wasn't delicate or precise, instead if was insistent and full of suppressed desire.
"Do you still think to move like this is a sin?" Mercutio teased, pulling back slightly, leaving Romeo looking way too flustered for his liking, yet he put his own embarrassment aside as he spoke up pleadingly.
"If it is then let me sin again," he said, before learning in again.
They kissed for a while, still swaying in the silence, an intimate dance to dance void of any music yet not lacking at all in emotion. When standing became tiring they return to the bed, kisses and whispers were exchanged like promises and with the walls of his room Romeo could almost forget that what they were doing was wrong.
"But what of Rosaline?" Mercutio said with a yawn later than evening, mumbling into Romeo's hair as the man nuzzled into his chest.
"What of her?" Romeo asked, voice muffled by Mercutio's shirt.
"Not even an hour ago you were complaining how she'd ruined love for you," Mercutio started cautious, not wanted to upset Romeo with his next words, "How do I know you're not just falling back into the saftey of someone you know will have you?"
Romeo tilted his chin up to meet Mercutio's gaze, "I don't think I ever truly like Rosaline, to be honest," he confessed softly.
"What!? But you said all that beautiful stuff-"
Romeo cut him off, "I liked how she me made me feel"
"...depressed?" Mercutio asked, looking extremely lost.
Romeo shook his head, "Normal".
"Oh," Came Mercutio's breath of realisation.
"I got so fixated on hiding the fact I was different that my 'love' for her borderlined obsession, I thought being in love with a woman would fix me or something. I think if it was her as a person I liked I would have known more about her interests than her face," Romeo said quickly, feeling a mix of shame and relief at finally admitting what he'd been denying to himself for months.
"So I suppose that means you know all about both my interests and my face?" Mercutio winked playfully, any previous hint of insecurity gone.
"I suppose it does".
They settled down after that, and as the room filled with Mercutios soft snoring Romeo didn't worry about tomorrow, or the day after that. He did worry about heaven or hell or sins. He didn't worry about Rosaline. He didn't worry about explaininge everything to Benvolio. Instead as he slept there was only one word that followed him into his dreams.
Mercutio.