closed: let them measure us by what they will

[bymyheelies]

Mercutio has always been fond of fashion. Specifically -- sparkly, colorful things, things his father would call gaudy or womanish. It is no wonder that arriving here was like a revelation, free to wear what he pleased and feel no judgment for it, whether it be a sparkly floor-length gown with fishnets and combat boots or a ratty Iron Maiden t-shirt and jeans. It is time, he has decided, that Benvolio gets to discover all this as well. Will he give Benvolio a choice in this? It is quite unlikely.

Therefore, it should be no surprise¹ to Benvolio that Mercutio appears at his door one morning, looking intent and not at all like he's mildly singed any eyebrows recently or anything like that. "Ho, art thou up?"

¹ Doubtful. Mercutio is always surprisingly chaotic, that's one of his charms.

Comments

[keep_the_peace]

"The color is fine. I am just not used to such things..." He fiddles with the hem of the shirt. "What thinkest thou?"

[bymyheelies]

“I think—“ —That he would like to slip that shirt off Benvolio’s shoulders, the fabric looks so fine and slippery —he clears his throat. “Erm. I think thou lookest a very fine portrait. Mayhap something less formal, though?” He’s not certain if this counts as formal; but really he means something more like what he’s wearing.

[keep_the_peace]

Benvolio looks back at the outfit in his reflection. This is considered formal? “The future is a strange place indeed,” he says before looking back at Mercutio again. “Ay, I think less formal will suit better. I have no need to be formal today.”

[bymyheelies]

He waves a hand at the closet. “Go and find, then, all you must do is imagine what thou likest and it will show up.”

[keep_the_peace]

That’s just the problem, Mercutio, he doesn’t really know what people here wear to begin imagining up something! But he resigns himself to the task and heads back to the closet, hoping the magic inside it will take pity on him, or something. He digs around, eventually emerging with a pair of black skinny jeans with holes made in them (it seems odd, but Mercutio has on some with holes too so maybe it’s, like, a fashion thing?), a black and green plaid shirt (that it is the same color Mercutio selected for him is clearly a coincidence, and definitely not his subconscious causing the mansion to create it, or anything), and a black zip up hoodie. He saw someone wearing a hoodie before and thought it looked comfortable, and he has already learned that zippers are a nice invention for clothes, so that seemed a natural choice.

“Would this be fine together?”

[bymyheelies]

The answer is 'whatever they like', which he would see proof of if he looked in Mercutio's closet. Alas, they are not in Mercutio's room, however, and he nods approvingly.

"Ay, it looks fine to me. Comfortable, and thou wilt want warmth right now."

[keep_the_peace]

"This place is quite rude indeed for cutting my summer so short. It could have brought me here when it was summer here too, but alas, I have found myself deposited firmly in the worst season." He begins the task of swapping one shirt for the other.

[bymyheelies]

“Ay, but I am here, at least?” He moves to sit on the bed. “‘Tis not so bad, if a bit dull at times.”

[keep_the_peace]

He's got the buttons undone on the first shirt, and shrugs it off, tossing it inelegantly on his bed before grabbing the second shirt. "Thou art surely the best piece of being here. Would not know what to do without thee," he says, honestly and probably a bit more earnestly than Mercutio might expect.

[bymyheelies]

"Thou hast not seen the best of it yet," he says, strangely just as earnest. "--Aside from the hot water on demand, and the lights, and the food. I do not think thou wouldst be so lost without me, anyone would take pity on thee. My lord Bacchus did for me, when I arrived."

[keep_the_peace]

"Thy new father seems very kind," he says, pulling the new shirt on.

[bymyheelies]

"Ay, he is. Much more than --ah, you know."

[keep_the_peace]

"Thou'rt free of him now, and better for it." Benvolio's opinion of Mercutio's father is not incredibly high, to say the least.

[bymyheelies]

"...Ay. Did he even notice?"

[keep_the_peace]

"He... mourned," Benvolio says, with an apologetic expression that implies it was more a public mourning than anything else. "Thy brother and I were upset enough to make up for it."

[bymyheelies]

"Valentine? Truly?" His surprise is probably evident in his voice.

[keep_the_peace]

"Of course, he is thy brother. Dost think so poorly of him?"

[bymyheelies]

"...No," a little quieter. "He is dull, sometimes, but not unfeeling."

[keep_the_peace]

Okay, the clothes can wait. He shoves the extra clothes out of the way a little, and motions for Mercutio to sit with him on the bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "All of Verona hath suffered for the loss of thee, Mercutio. Thou'rt well loved -- at home by thy brother and myself, and Romeo before he --" well, anyway. "And here, by thy new father, I'm sure, and all thy new friends. Shouldst not care about the affections of those too foolish to see how wonderful thou art, such as thy terrible father." And Tybalt. He doesn't say that part out loud though. He... hasn't yet told Mercutio he heard about that.

[bymyheelies]

Mercutio happily snuggles into that hug. "Ay, ay, I know. 'Tis only hard to break a habit of nineteen years. Certes, he is happy to be rid of me."

[keep_the_peace]

"Thou art better off without him, I am sure of it." If he's leaning his head over onto Mercutio a bit, well, that's just to be reassuring and friendly, of course.

[bymyheelies]

"Undoubtedly. I am no shame to him here."

[keep_the_peace]

"He is not worth thy concern."

[bymyheelies]

"I know." He sighs and leans against Benvolio a little.

[keep_the_peace]

The urge to kiss his cheek, or anything along those lines, is almost overwhelming right now. He's so warm, and the fabric of his strange shirt would be very easily nudged out of the way if he wanted to touch Mercutio's back or chest, and it's not lost on him that they're sitting on his bed. But this isn't the first time his thoughts have drifted to such things with regards to Mercutio, and unfortunately for him he doubts it'll be the last. Worse than this feeling though would be losing Mercutio's friendship, and besides, apparently Mercutio loves fucking Tybalt, so--

"Ah, I ought to change the rest of this outfit," he says, dragging himself away from Mercutio enough to stand.