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Post by Tybalt on Aug 29, 2008 22:21:40 GMT -5
*Tybalt let himself into Mercutio's brightly painted room. He wasn't there, and the door was open, so he waited.
He hated that he came back to Mercutio again and again- though this was the first time he'd been desperate enough for him to come seeking him out in his rooms...*
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Post by Mercutio on Aug 29, 2008 22:40:51 GMT -5
It was very, very late when footsteps in the hallways signified Mercutio's presence. The young man stumbled in, but he wasn't alone; a small, wild-haired woman was with him, saying something in his ear, one of his arms tight around her waist as he bent his head to her lips and grinned. He looked content, warm, and a little tousled, his smile lazy and secret, like he'd been drinking or like the two of them had just decided to come someplace a little more private and he'd been snogging beforehand.
The room was dark when he entered, and it took him a minute to sense Tybalt's presence; Mercutio jerked, badly surprised, and peered into the darkness, his hand on the woman's waist tightening so she stopped with a surprised, irritated little gasp. Then he blinked, having recognized Tybalt; his shoulders relaxed, he began to smile again, but hesitantly, confused and inquisitive.
He bent his head to the woman's ear and murmured something low, his arm slipping from around her. She tore away with a sneer, rolling her eyes, then turned on her heel and flounced away. Mercutio turned his attention back to Tybalt, blinking blearily; for a few seconds he didn't say anything. Then he moved into the room and scooped up something- matches- from his table, turning his back on Tybalt and beginning to light the lamps.
"Did you need something, Tybalt?"
(( Also, Renn, HE'S WEARING THE RED SHIRT ZOMG. I really just wanted an excuse. ))
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Post by Tybalt on Aug 29, 2008 23:14:40 GMT -5
((Heeeee. :3))
*He'd been pacing the room for- he didn't know how long, now, though it felt like hours. Every minute he'd told himself to leave, that he didn't want, much less need Mercutio's hands on him. He'd no reason to crave his touch or his company- he hated him. And hated himself for wanting it.
That didn't explain the fact that every time they'd met led to a tangle of limbs, hurried, violent kisses, and unspeakable acts behind closed doors.
And it didn't explain the sure of jealousy that he felt when Mercutio entered with a gaudy overpainted slut on his arm. His irritation persisted even when he'd gotten her to go.
Mercutio's question threw him off- what could he say? He needed Mercutio, like some kind of addiction.*
"I don't-"
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Post by Mercutio on Aug 29, 2008 23:22:32 GMT -5
Mercutio had paused in the act of lighting a lamp, regarding Tybalt curiously over his shoulder. "Did you miss me that much?" he asked, although his voice was relatively mild. He turned back to the lamp, a second too late; the flame on the match caught his fingers and he dropped it with a hiss. He put the burned fingertips to his mouth, his brow furrowed in sharp irritation.
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Post by Tybalt on Aug 29, 2008 23:32:46 GMT -5
*He snatched the matches away from him and lit one.*
"If you're going to burn the place down, I'll do it," *he said, watching the match burn and making no movie to light the lamp.*
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Post by Mercutio on Aug 29, 2008 23:36:51 GMT -5
"Right, yes, that'll be very helpful- " Mercutio snatched them back, scowling. "Look, now you're the one who's going to burn his fingers!" He lit the last lamp with a flourish, tossing the matches back on the table but keeping a weather eye on Tybalt.
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Post by Tybalt on Aug 29, 2008 23:43:42 GMT -5
*In a practiced motion, Tybalt shook out the match just before it reached his hand and glowered at Mercutio.*
"I put it out before it burns," *he snapped, looking at the table reproachfully.*
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Post by Mercutio on Aug 29, 2008 23:44:59 GMT -5
Mercutio gave him a highly doubtful look.
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Post by Tybalt on Aug 30, 2008 0:18:29 GMT -5
*He shot him a withering glare, ridiculous, really for someone who'd basically broken into his rooms.*
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Post by Mercutio on Aug 30, 2008 0:21:16 GMT -5
"Soooo, Tybalt." Mercutio put his arms behind his head, tilting his head back and regarding the other man with pursed lips. "Do you often make a habit of doing this? I need to know, you see, so I don't piss myself when I come in and find you standing in the dark."
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Post by Tybalt on Aug 30, 2008 0:27:46 GMT -5
"No," *he snapped. He didn't know why he was there in the first place.
Well. There was an obvious reason, of course, but that was beside the point.*
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Post by Mercutio on Aug 30, 2008 0:39:58 GMT -5
Mercutio frowned at him. "No need to be so surly," he said. "Bear with me, man, don't be a beast. You walk upright and wear clothing, so you've got the technicalities behind you."
He ran a hand over his eyes, blinking rapidly. Heat was rising off of him; the room and the night weren't cool enough to suit him. Suddenly, as if Tybalt weren't even there, Mercutio struggled out of his shirt, flinging it to the floor. His boots came next, nearly falling over as he tried to get them off. The only thing left now was his pants; Mercutio looked up and waggled his eyesbrows outrageously at Tybalt. Somehow, no words were needed.
Not that that had ever stopped Mercutio.
"Would you like to do the honors, sir, or shall I?"
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Post by Tybalt on Aug 30, 2008 0:54:08 GMT -5
*He raised an eyebrow at Mercutio's sudden decision to disrobe in front of him, and rolled his eyes at his question, even as he approached him and in lieu of an answer put his hands on Mercutio's hips. He ran the fingertips of one hand lightly along the skin just above his pants until it reached the fastenings.*
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Post by Mercutio on Aug 30, 2008 1:03:14 GMT -5
Mercutio's breath hitched, the muscles of his stomach tightening as Tybalt trailed his fingers over them. He leaned into the touch, his lips parting as he pressed them to Tybalt's. His mouth tasted like wine.
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Post by Tybalt on Aug 30, 2008 1:15:08 GMT -5
*He kissed him hungrily, the taste of wine strong on his lips. The heady taste fueled his desire more, and he turned his attention from Mercutio's buttons to his own shirt. With much fumbling, he managed to get it off without breaking contact for too long.
He moved the two of them toward the bed and pushed Mercutio down onto it with little grace and no tenderness.*
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