FIC - 'Recognition' - RxJ - Tybalt/Mercutio
Title: Recognition
Fandom: Romeo x Juliet
Pairing: Tybalt x Mercutio
Rating: MA (fictionratings)
Genre: Drama, angst
Warnings! Sex, dubious consent, some violence
Spoilers: Episode 13.
Beta: athousandwinds
Summary: Part 2 of the Rendezvous series. Mercutio can't stop thinking about his encounter with Tybalt.
Fic Home: Rendezvous Series
Plug: Tybalt/Mercutio Fanlisting
---
The palace was in the middle of chaos. Word spread fast that the Capulet daughter had escaped with Romeo's help. During the siege, Mercutio stayed shut in his room, a small grin on his face, knowing that he had something to do with the chaos.
One of the guards came into his room with barely a knock and told Mercutio that Duke Montague was lashing out at anyone that crossed his path. Mercutio grimaced a little at the thought and took it as a sign to get out of the castle for the night. He didn't even bother changing his clothes, the dark silk he was wearing might be a little too delicate for what he wanted to do, but it would do. He marched unnoticed to the back of the castle, but when he went to call on the coach, there were none to be found. Mercutio cursed under his breath and started walking. It wasn't that long a walk, and it wasn't raining, so it could be worse. Something as insignificant as a walk wasn't going to stop him. He was feeling lucky tonight. Maybe tonight he would see Tybalt again.
He hadn't seen the man after that first and only night. Mercutio had even gone down to the red-light district almost every night looking for him. Ever since that night he had felt haunted by those green eyes, and couldn't get them out of his mind. It was disrupting his other encounters, his thoughts, his everyday life. Sex wasn't as fun as it used to be, and the fact was pissing him off. Mercutio was sure it was just a craving, that if he slept with Tybalt again, all those feelings would go away.
He checked the bars along the way just in case, but eventually headed to the bar where he had met Tybalt, ordered one of his favorite drinks, and sat to wait. The drink was strong and bitter, just like he liked it, it burned a little going down his throat but the buzz was instantaneous. He watched it swirl in the clear cup, his attention momentarily interrupted by the sound of someone entering the bar. Mercutio looked up, and felt his anticipation rise.
He'd been right to feel lucky tonight.
Tybalt seemed to scan the bar quickly, making a beeline towards Mercutio when he spotted him. Mercutio blinked in surprise when he saw Tybalt walking towards him. Was it possible that Tybalt had also been looking for him after their night together?
Mercutio swallowed hard when Tybalt stopped in front of him, matching violet with green. “Hello,” Tybalt said in that deep voice of his, sending a shiver down Mercutio's spine.
“Want to sit down?” Mercutio asked, offering the seat beside him.
Tybalt shook his head. “No,” he said firmly, and Mercutio couldn't help but feel disappointed. But then Tybalt reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet. “Let's go somewhere else,” he said with intent as he met Mercutio's eyes again.
Mercutio stood frozen for a second, surprised but pleased at this turn of events. Tybalt released him and started walking away. Mercutio followed.
---
They got a room at the same place as the last time. The woman at the desk glanced at Mercutio longer than necessary, most likely ogling his expensive clothes. Once in the room, Tybalt placed the little vial of oil on the bedside table, that too like the last time. Mercutio started unbuttoning his shirt slowly as Tybalt did this, shrugging it off and letting it fall to the floor. Tybalt was still giving his back to him and Mercutio walked up until he was just inches away. Mercutio licked his lips, and, unable to resist the urge to touch, he pressed the tip of his fingers gently against Tybalt's back, just above his blades, saying Tybalt's name at the same time. This apparently was a mistake, because Tybalt turned around quickly, and roughly grabbed one of Mercutio's wrists, throwing him against the bed as he pulled one of the blades with his other hand and pointed it at him.
“I wasn't going to touch them!” Mercutio yelled, reading Tybalt's body language. As soon as he spoke the words, Tybalt lowered the blade, putting it back in its sheath, looking callous, but then unbuckling the blade's harness so he could take it off.
Tybalt took everything off after that, standing naked in front of Mercutio before climbing on the bed and crawling leisurely towards him. “Don't ever try to touch them,” he warned in a low growl as he hovered above Mercutio.
Mercutio licked his lips slowly, knowing for sure that he had no interest whatsoever in Tybalt's swords. “I won't,” he said in a raspy voice.
Tybalt seemed to grin momentarily, and for a crazy moment Mercutio thought Tybalt was going to pounce on him, but instead he moved swiftly so he could touch the waistband of Mercutio's pants, which were still on, and pull them off. Mercutio raised his hips to speed the process and with a sharp tug his pants, and the rest of his clothes, were gone and on the floor. Tybalt snagged Mercutio's upper arm then, pulling him up a little so their mouths could meet.
The kiss was hard, almost violent. Tybalt pressed his lips roughly against Mercutio's as he squeezed his arm tightly, leaving a bruise for certain. Mercutio felt his head spin, his body growing hot with it.
They broke apart suddenly when Tybalt pushed him away, and Mercutio had a second to meet Tybalt's eyes again, seeing something dark there. Tybalt made a sound and strengthened his grip on Mercutio's arm, forcing him to turn over face-down against the mattress.
Mercutio huffed in surprise, and even more so when he felt Tybalt's arm wrap around his waist and force the lower half of his body up. “Use your knees,” Tybalt said with little emotion, and Mercutio had no choice but do as he said, pushing his knees up until he could rest his lower body on them. He felt exposed like this, with his ass high in the air and his face against the mattress. He felt Tybalt's hands on his hips, heard the vial of oil being picked up, and before Mercutio could think about it, before he could say anything, Tybalt pushed a slick finger inside him.
Mercutio groaned against the mattress, reminding himself that this was all they were here for, and frowning at his own brain for thinking it might be anything but. Foreplay wasn't even on the list.
A second finger went inside him, stretching him further, and Mercutio found himself saying Tybalt's name under his breath as he bit his lower lip, wanting more, needing more. “Tybalt, please,” he moaned, and suddenly the fingers left him, being quickly replaced by something larger. Mercutio had a sudden sense of dread that he didn't understand, he moved his mouth, the word 'wait' dying on his lips as Tybalt gripped Mercutio's hips strongly and pushed his cock inside him in one fierce thrust.
Mercutio gasped, tears stinging in the corner of his eyes. He bit his lip harder so he wouldn't cry out. Tybalt didn't wait for Mercutio to get used to the intrusion, and moved inside him, pulling out and thrusting in again with all his strength. Mercutio couldn't hold in his cry this time, it escaped from his lips unbidden. “Please go slower!” he cried out, trying to turn around to see Tybalt's face. “It hurts, Tybalt!”
Tybalt moved swiftly after hearing the words, leaning down until his chest touched Mercutio's back. He grabbed a fistful of Mercutio's hair and pulled his head back sharply, until his lips were just inches above Mercutio's ear. “Stop saying my name so freely,” he hissed, making Mercutio's hair stand on end. “I know who you are. Mercutio du Marchege. Montague's lapdog, doing anything and everything in your power as long as you have a chance to be his heir. What would he say if he saw you now?”
Mercutio's eyes went impossibly wide at the words, panic rising in him. “Who are you?” he asked, trying to hide the fear in his voice.
“I'm the man who is going to kill Montague,” Tybalt said in a low and dangerous voice, as he wrapped a hand around Mercutio's throat and pulled the upper part of his body from the mattress until they were both on their knees. Mercutio's back rested against Tybalt's chest as Tybalt kept the hand around Mercutio's throat, squeezing. Mercutio felt the danger of the hand around his throat and both his hands instinctively reached towards the spot, trying unsuccessfully to pry Tybalt's fingers from his throat. Tybalt's other hand roamed low and around him, wrapping fingers against one of Mercutio's inner thighs and suddenly thrusting upwards violently.
Mercutio cried out again, his back arching out of his control, his body shaking as Tybalt thrust into him again and again. The thought occurred to him that he might not survive this encounter. He still had no idea who Tybalt really was, or why was he so angry. Many people hated Montague for many different reasons. Even Mercutio himself disliked the man. Mercutio wanted to know the reason for Tybalt's anger, and why he was the victim of it.
Tybalt's next thrust made Mercutio see stars, and he moaned involuntarily, as a sudden burst of pleasure ran up his body. Mercutio had a brief second to curse at his body's reaction and without helping it, separated one of his hands from Tybalt's fingers around his throat, reaching down so he could stroke his own throbbing cock. He took a deep breath as he started stroking himself, his voice choking at the same time as Tybalt squeezed his throat tighter along with another thrust.
The pain disappeared.
Mercutio rested his head against Tybalt's shoulder, moaning louder, for a brief moment not caring if he survived this or not. All that he cared about was Tybalt's cock inside him, taking possession of him. A second set of fingers touched his own erection. Tybalt's hand laid on top of Mercutio's, joining him, helping him, as they matched the pace of Tybalt's thrusts. Mercutio moaned louder, and Tybalt pressed his mouth against the back of Mercutio's throat, biting down hard, a low groan escaping his lips as he came inside Mercutio.
Mercutio gasped at the feeling, moaning as his and Tybalt's hands still stroked him until the heat inside him reached its limit and he came in a sharp burst. They toppled forward, Mercutio's face hitting the mattress in a quick thump with Tybalt on top of him. Their breathing was ragged, gasping. Tybalt moved slightly, resting a hand on Mercutio's hips and moving backwards, pulling out of him. Mercutio groaned softly, the pain back for a moment, the soreness stretching along his body. Mercutio stared intently at whatever was in front of him, afraid to turn around and meet Tybalt's eyes. He felt Tybalt moving slowly behind him, his hands touching the back of Mercutio's neck, and slowly around his throat again. Mercutio's breath hitched once in fear, and before he realized it he was turning around, their eyes meeting. Tybalt's eyes were clear with intent, Mercutio's wide with apprehension.
Tybalt frowned, a noise coming low from his throat, almost like a growl, and put some pressure on Mercutio's throat. “Please,” Mercutio said without thinking, his gaze never leaving those green eyes. Tybalt froze for a second, then suddenly cursed under his breath and rose from the bed in a flash. He dressed hurriedly, making no noise, except the small rustle of clothes. Without another word, he left the room without looking back.
Mercutio felt himself take a long deep breath, his body feeling both numb and cold. He raised a hand to his throat, knowing that coming morning he would have a bruise. Water droplets fell on the top of his hand and Mercutio looked at them with curiosity before realizing they were coming from his own eyes. Tears. Mercutio sat up slowly, wiping the stubborn tears away, not understanding why they were there in the first place. He looked around the room, spotting his clothes in a heap on the floor. He dressed slowly and carefully, knowing that after this night there would be no more. His nights of searching for Tybalt, for wanting him, were over.
The man was dangerous, and Mercutio knew that he would not be so lucky the next time. If he met Tybalt again, he was more than likely not to survive. He had to stay away. Stay away from Tybalt. Stay away from the red-light district. It was the only thing he could do. The right thing to do. Mercutio knew this with all his being. He was certain of it.
And even if he knew.
Even if he understood.
The tears wouldn't stop.
It hurt.
Fandom: Romeo x Juliet
Pairing: Tybalt x Mercutio
Rating: MA (fictionratings)
Genre: Drama, angst
Warnings! Sex, dubious consent, some violence
Spoilers: Episode 13.
Beta: athousandwinds
Summary: Part 2 of the Rendezvous series. Mercutio can't stop thinking about his encounter with Tybalt.
Fic Home: Rendezvous Series
Plug: Tybalt/Mercutio Fanlisting
---
The palace was in the middle of chaos. Word spread fast that the Capulet daughter had escaped with Romeo's help. During the siege, Mercutio stayed shut in his room, a small grin on his face, knowing that he had something to do with the chaos.
One of the guards came into his room with barely a knock and told Mercutio that Duke Montague was lashing out at anyone that crossed his path. Mercutio grimaced a little at the thought and took it as a sign to get out of the castle for the night. He didn't even bother changing his clothes, the dark silk he was wearing might be a little too delicate for what he wanted to do, but it would do. He marched unnoticed to the back of the castle, but when he went to call on the coach, there were none to be found. Mercutio cursed under his breath and started walking. It wasn't that long a walk, and it wasn't raining, so it could be worse. Something as insignificant as a walk wasn't going to stop him. He was feeling lucky tonight. Maybe tonight he would see Tybalt again.
He hadn't seen the man after that first and only night. Mercutio had even gone down to the red-light district almost every night looking for him. Ever since that night he had felt haunted by those green eyes, and couldn't get them out of his mind. It was disrupting his other encounters, his thoughts, his everyday life. Sex wasn't as fun as it used to be, and the fact was pissing him off. Mercutio was sure it was just a craving, that if he slept with Tybalt again, all those feelings would go away.
He checked the bars along the way just in case, but eventually headed to the bar where he had met Tybalt, ordered one of his favorite drinks, and sat to wait. The drink was strong and bitter, just like he liked it, it burned a little going down his throat but the buzz was instantaneous. He watched it swirl in the clear cup, his attention momentarily interrupted by the sound of someone entering the bar. Mercutio looked up, and felt his anticipation rise.
He'd been right to feel lucky tonight.
Tybalt seemed to scan the bar quickly, making a beeline towards Mercutio when he spotted him. Mercutio blinked in surprise when he saw Tybalt walking towards him. Was it possible that Tybalt had also been looking for him after their night together?
Mercutio swallowed hard when Tybalt stopped in front of him, matching violet with green. “Hello,” Tybalt said in that deep voice of his, sending a shiver down Mercutio's spine.
“Want to sit down?” Mercutio asked, offering the seat beside him.
Tybalt shook his head. “No,” he said firmly, and Mercutio couldn't help but feel disappointed. But then Tybalt reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet. “Let's go somewhere else,” he said with intent as he met Mercutio's eyes again.
Mercutio stood frozen for a second, surprised but pleased at this turn of events. Tybalt released him and started walking away. Mercutio followed.
---
They got a room at the same place as the last time. The woman at the desk glanced at Mercutio longer than necessary, most likely ogling his expensive clothes. Once in the room, Tybalt placed the little vial of oil on the bedside table, that too like the last time. Mercutio started unbuttoning his shirt slowly as Tybalt did this, shrugging it off and letting it fall to the floor. Tybalt was still giving his back to him and Mercutio walked up until he was just inches away. Mercutio licked his lips, and, unable to resist the urge to touch, he pressed the tip of his fingers gently against Tybalt's back, just above his blades, saying Tybalt's name at the same time. This apparently was a mistake, because Tybalt turned around quickly, and roughly grabbed one of Mercutio's wrists, throwing him against the bed as he pulled one of the blades with his other hand and pointed it at him.
“I wasn't going to touch them!” Mercutio yelled, reading Tybalt's body language. As soon as he spoke the words, Tybalt lowered the blade, putting it back in its sheath, looking callous, but then unbuckling the blade's harness so he could take it off.
Tybalt took everything off after that, standing naked in front of Mercutio before climbing on the bed and crawling leisurely towards him. “Don't ever try to touch them,” he warned in a low growl as he hovered above Mercutio.
Mercutio licked his lips slowly, knowing for sure that he had no interest whatsoever in Tybalt's swords. “I won't,” he said in a raspy voice.
Tybalt seemed to grin momentarily, and for a crazy moment Mercutio thought Tybalt was going to pounce on him, but instead he moved swiftly so he could touch the waistband of Mercutio's pants, which were still on, and pull them off. Mercutio raised his hips to speed the process and with a sharp tug his pants, and the rest of his clothes, were gone and on the floor. Tybalt snagged Mercutio's upper arm then, pulling him up a little so their mouths could meet.
The kiss was hard, almost violent. Tybalt pressed his lips roughly against Mercutio's as he squeezed his arm tightly, leaving a bruise for certain. Mercutio felt his head spin, his body growing hot with it.
They broke apart suddenly when Tybalt pushed him away, and Mercutio had a second to meet Tybalt's eyes again, seeing something dark there. Tybalt made a sound and strengthened his grip on Mercutio's arm, forcing him to turn over face-down against the mattress.
Mercutio huffed in surprise, and even more so when he felt Tybalt's arm wrap around his waist and force the lower half of his body up. “Use your knees,” Tybalt said with little emotion, and Mercutio had no choice but do as he said, pushing his knees up until he could rest his lower body on them. He felt exposed like this, with his ass high in the air and his face against the mattress. He felt Tybalt's hands on his hips, heard the vial of oil being picked up, and before Mercutio could think about it, before he could say anything, Tybalt pushed a slick finger inside him.
Mercutio groaned against the mattress, reminding himself that this was all they were here for, and frowning at his own brain for thinking it might be anything but. Foreplay wasn't even on the list.
A second finger went inside him, stretching him further, and Mercutio found himself saying Tybalt's name under his breath as he bit his lower lip, wanting more, needing more. “Tybalt, please,” he moaned, and suddenly the fingers left him, being quickly replaced by something larger. Mercutio had a sudden sense of dread that he didn't understand, he moved his mouth, the word 'wait' dying on his lips as Tybalt gripped Mercutio's hips strongly and pushed his cock inside him in one fierce thrust.
Mercutio gasped, tears stinging in the corner of his eyes. He bit his lip harder so he wouldn't cry out. Tybalt didn't wait for Mercutio to get used to the intrusion, and moved inside him, pulling out and thrusting in again with all his strength. Mercutio couldn't hold in his cry this time, it escaped from his lips unbidden. “Please go slower!” he cried out, trying to turn around to see Tybalt's face. “It hurts, Tybalt!”
Tybalt moved swiftly after hearing the words, leaning down until his chest touched Mercutio's back. He grabbed a fistful of Mercutio's hair and pulled his head back sharply, until his lips were just inches above Mercutio's ear. “Stop saying my name so freely,” he hissed, making Mercutio's hair stand on end. “I know who you are. Mercutio du Marchege. Montague's lapdog, doing anything and everything in your power as long as you have a chance to be his heir. What would he say if he saw you now?”
Mercutio's eyes went impossibly wide at the words, panic rising in him. “Who are you?” he asked, trying to hide the fear in his voice.
“I'm the man who is going to kill Montague,” Tybalt said in a low and dangerous voice, as he wrapped a hand around Mercutio's throat and pulled the upper part of his body from the mattress until they were both on their knees. Mercutio's back rested against Tybalt's chest as Tybalt kept the hand around Mercutio's throat, squeezing. Mercutio felt the danger of the hand around his throat and both his hands instinctively reached towards the spot, trying unsuccessfully to pry Tybalt's fingers from his throat. Tybalt's other hand roamed low and around him, wrapping fingers against one of Mercutio's inner thighs and suddenly thrusting upwards violently.
Mercutio cried out again, his back arching out of his control, his body shaking as Tybalt thrust into him again and again. The thought occurred to him that he might not survive this encounter. He still had no idea who Tybalt really was, or why was he so angry. Many people hated Montague for many different reasons. Even Mercutio himself disliked the man. Mercutio wanted to know the reason for Tybalt's anger, and why he was the victim of it.
Tybalt's next thrust made Mercutio see stars, and he moaned involuntarily, as a sudden burst of pleasure ran up his body. Mercutio had a brief second to curse at his body's reaction and without helping it, separated one of his hands from Tybalt's fingers around his throat, reaching down so he could stroke his own throbbing cock. He took a deep breath as he started stroking himself, his voice choking at the same time as Tybalt squeezed his throat tighter along with another thrust.
The pain disappeared.
Mercutio rested his head against Tybalt's shoulder, moaning louder, for a brief moment not caring if he survived this or not. All that he cared about was Tybalt's cock inside him, taking possession of him. A second set of fingers touched his own erection. Tybalt's hand laid on top of Mercutio's, joining him, helping him, as they matched the pace of Tybalt's thrusts. Mercutio moaned louder, and Tybalt pressed his mouth against the back of Mercutio's throat, biting down hard, a low groan escaping his lips as he came inside Mercutio.
Mercutio gasped at the feeling, moaning as his and Tybalt's hands still stroked him until the heat inside him reached its limit and he came in a sharp burst. They toppled forward, Mercutio's face hitting the mattress in a quick thump with Tybalt on top of him. Their breathing was ragged, gasping. Tybalt moved slightly, resting a hand on Mercutio's hips and moving backwards, pulling out of him. Mercutio groaned softly, the pain back for a moment, the soreness stretching along his body. Mercutio stared intently at whatever was in front of him, afraid to turn around and meet Tybalt's eyes. He felt Tybalt moving slowly behind him, his hands touching the back of Mercutio's neck, and slowly around his throat again. Mercutio's breath hitched once in fear, and before he realized it he was turning around, their eyes meeting. Tybalt's eyes were clear with intent, Mercutio's wide with apprehension.
Tybalt frowned, a noise coming low from his throat, almost like a growl, and put some pressure on Mercutio's throat. “Please,” Mercutio said without thinking, his gaze never leaving those green eyes. Tybalt froze for a second, then suddenly cursed under his breath and rose from the bed in a flash. He dressed hurriedly, making no noise, except the small rustle of clothes. Without another word, he left the room without looking back.
Mercutio felt himself take a long deep breath, his body feeling both numb and cold. He raised a hand to his throat, knowing that coming morning he would have a bruise. Water droplets fell on the top of his hand and Mercutio looked at them with curiosity before realizing they were coming from his own eyes. Tears. Mercutio sat up slowly, wiping the stubborn tears away, not understanding why they were there in the first place. He looked around the room, spotting his clothes in a heap on the floor. He dressed slowly and carefully, knowing that after this night there would be no more. His nights of searching for Tybalt, for wanting him, were over.
The man was dangerous, and Mercutio knew that he would not be so lucky the next time. If he met Tybalt again, he was more than likely not to survive. He had to stay away. Stay away from Tybalt. Stay away from the red-light district. It was the only thing he could do. The right thing to do. Mercutio knew this with all his being. He was certain of it.
And even if he knew.
Even if he understood.
The tears wouldn't stop.
It hurt.