Today I had my male high school English teacher help me translate a fanfic I wrote about Romeo and Juliet. It was a Tybalt x Benvolio fanfic, and that man helped me translate every single line of dialogue into Shakespearean English with a straight face.
Didn't ask questions except for translation and plot-related questions. Very professional. 10/10.
Edit: This had been fixed a little and posted over at AO3
Okayyyyy~ This was way longer than I intended it to be and the ending is a little rushed because I’m starting to become less coherent, but here it is ♥ I went with 19 (forceful kiss) as my main insperation, but I added 4 (forehead kiss) because I couldn’t help it.
The one where it’s hot, the Capulets are out, and Benvolio didn’t tell Mercutio everything that happened at the party~
Benvolio/Tybalt with mentions of Romeo/Juliet
Benvolio is seated on the ledge of a fountain in the market, sketching people that walk by because Mercutio won’t stay still enough to be his model. Mercutio paces in front of him, running his hand through his hair and sighing. Benvolio ignores him and focuses on a women selling flowers, trying to capture he face while he can only make out major details. When Mercutio passes him again he snaps.
“For fucks sake Mercutio can you not sit still for one moment! Some of us are trying to be productive and your pacing is hindering that.”
Mercutio looks taken back as he moves to sit next to Benvolio.
“Sorry Ben, it’s just.” He stops and Benvolio looks at the women again, waiting for him to continue.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this but, I’m worried about Romeo.” Benvolio raises an eyebrow and almost looks up at Mercutio. Almost.
“I’m positive we all worry about him, what makes today so special?” Mercutio is usually the one to laugh off all of the things that Romeo does, not fret about them.
“He just, fuck, I dunno. I’m just getting the impression that he’s serious about this girl. Not in the typical Romeo way, but in an honest to god I’m going to marry her because she is the light of my life sort of way.”
Benvolio shrugs.
“So what?”
Mercutio is taken back.
“So that’s bad news for us. Next he’s going to want us to go to parties at her house and meet her parents and, oh god, be friends with Tybalt.” He all but spits out the word Tybalt and scrunches his eyebrows together in disgust.
Benvolio’s heart skips a beat and he can feel his neck flush a little, but he blames it on the heat.
“Would that really be so bad?” He prompts to Mercutio as he turns to a fresh page in his sketchbook.
When he receives no response he looks up to see Mercutio glaring at him.
“He is actually the worst person on the planet.”
“You only say that because he’s better than you at everything.”
Mercutio huffs and turns away from Benvolio to sulk. He kicks his foot against the fountain ledge and dips his fingers in the water. The sun is high in the sky and there are no clouds. He sighed again.
“It’s too hot Ben.”
Benvolio makes a noise of agreement, but doesn’t move from where he is.
“Can we at least move into the shade or something? Why do you want to sit in the only place that has zero sun cover?”
“The light is good for drawing.”
Mercutio runs his hands down his face with an exasperated sigh.
“Fuck you man, fuck you.”
Benvolio laughs and flips him off before returning to his drawing. Mercutio fidgets in the silence, trying to think of something else to say. Benvolio doesn’t even look up anymore, smiling down at whatever he’s sketching.
“What are you drawing anyway?”
Benvolio goes stiff and Mercutio leans in closer to him, trying to look at it.
“N-nothing at all,” Benvolio stammers out as he tilts the sketchbook out of Mercutio’s view.
“Whatever it is can’t be that bad.” He says trying to grab it from Benvolio’s hand. “I’ve seen things Benvolio; you can’t shock me with anything.”
Benvolio keeps the sketchbook just out of his reach and manages to shut it before he can see anything.
“No way Mercutio, a sketchbook is like an artist’s diary.” Benvolio stops talking and his eyes go wide.
“What are you?” Mercutio starts to turn around; trying to find out what Benvolio is looking at. Benvolio grabs Mercutio’s wrist and pulls him up.
“You’re right it is really hot out, how about we go home?”
Benvolio shits his weight from one foot to another and tries to focus on Mercutio’s face, but his eyes keep darting to behind him.
“Ben you’re acting like you’re in a lion’s den, calm down.” Mercutio pulls his wrist free and turns his head around. Benvolio blushes and looks at the ground.
Across the plaza Tybalt is talking to one of his cousin’s friends. The girl is almost a head shorter than he is and keeps checking the phone in her hand. Benvolio can feel his annoyance as he hands her a small package and they part ways.
“Mercutio come on,” he hisses. “We have to get out of here before-” It’s irrational for him to think that Tybalt herd him from where he was standing, but he does spot them and begins to walk in their direction.
“Shit,” Benvolio gets out before Mercutio speaks.
“Well look what the cat dragged in. Better watch out, with all that fur you might overheat.”
Benvolio rolls his eyes at Mercutio’s comment wishing that he was just a bit wittier, but only a little.
Tybalt scoffs and stops in front of them. “That’s the best you’ve got? Grow up Mercutio.”
Mercutio rolls his neck to one side and fixes Tybalt with a glare. He opens his mouth to speak again, but Tybalt has already shifted his attention away from him.
Benvolio digs his foot into the ground and glances to the side, purposefully avoiding looking in Tybalt’s direction.
Mercutio follows Tybalt’s gaze and looks back and forth between the two boys before speaking.
“What the hell?”
Tybalt walks past Mercutio, nudging his shoulder and knocking him off balance in the process. He stops mere inches from Benvolio.
“Benvolio?”
Benvolio looks down to his shoes again and shuffles the supplies in his hands.
Tybalt reaches forward and brushes his fingers against the side of Benvolio’s face. Benvolio looks up at him and something breaks between them.
Tybalt runs his fingers through the hair at the base of Benvolio’s neck and pulls him forward, crushing their lips together. Benvolio drops everything he is holding and grips the front of Tybalt’s shirt with one hand, running the other down Tybalt’s side and resting it on his hip.
Benvolio feels as if he has been submerged in water. The air around him is hot and thick and Tybalt’s mouth is burning against his, but he doesn’t try to pull away.
Tybalt takes that as an invitation and rets his unoccupied hand on Benvolio’s back, using it to pull him closer.
Mercutio coughs and Benvolio remembers where they are. He pushes Tybalt lightly so they are no longer kissing, but still almost flush against one another. Tybalt is grinning and Benvolio does not want to look at Mercutio, choosing instead to untangle his limbs from Tybalt’s and pick up the things he dropped.
He gathers his supplies in his arms once again and brushes a strand of hair from his face. Taking a breath Benvolio turns to face Mercutio fully. He has his arms crossed, but Benvolio can tell he’s more confused than angry and that his anger is mostly directly at Tybalt.
“I have some things I have to take care of,” Benvolio begins, “so I’ll see you around?”
Mercutio rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to say something, but closes it when he looks over at Tybalt.
“Whatever.” He finally gets out as he turns and walks away from them. “My friends are a bunch of dicks that are leaving me for the Capulets.” He yells back towards Benvolio.
Benvolio sighs and rests his head against Tybalt’s shoulder.
“Do you think that would have gone better if I had told him sooner?”
Tybalt shrugs his shoulders, jarring Benvolio’s head slightly.
“Can’t say.”
Benvolio laughs.
“I’m not kidding anyone; he was going to storm off no matter how this went. Hopefully he comes around, especially if our cousins are as serious as they say they are.”
Tybalt smiles and wraps an arm around Benvolio’s waist. Benvolio looks up at him and Tybalt leans down to plant a light kiss on his forehead.
They stand in the plaza for a moment longer before Tybalt’s grin turns mischievous.
“Now what sort of things do you have to ‘take care’ of?” He prompts.
Benvolio blushes slightly and leans up to whisper in Tybalt’s ear before turning out of his grip and walking backwards away from him. Tybalt stuffs his hands into his pockets before following Benvolio, ready to make of the day what they would.
