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Post by Tybalt on Nov 17, 2008 23:53:36 GMT -5
*He rolled his eyes and wasted no time getting back in the swing of things. His roaming hands and mouth were rough this night, perhaps irritation from Mercutio's idea of a joke was wearing on him.*
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Post by Mercutio on Nov 17, 2008 23:58:47 GMT -5
It wasn't as though Mercutio was unused to Tybalt's impatience and lack of good graces; Mercutio could, after all, give as good as he got. At least, Mercutio mused as he tripped Tybalt backwards into the bed, the surly fellow seemed to be enjoying himself for once. Mercutio would have hated to let his birthday pass uncelebrated.
*FADE OUT*
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 18, 2008 0:08:55 GMT -5
*The first hints of sunlight filtered in through partially drawn curtains and Tybalt shifted, tangled in blankets and Mercutio. He showed little sign of wanting very much to move when it was warm and mostly dark and he had lanky arms wrapped around him comfortably.
He lay there for a few minutes, his troubled features calm for once. A thought half formed in his mind that this would be perfect under any other circumstances, but he pushed the thought out of his mind before he had to face the fact that something like that had crossed his mind.
A moment later, he was himself again, and jabbing Mercutio hard in the ribs.*
"You're leaving now."
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Post by Mercutio on Nov 18, 2008 0:20:04 GMT -5
Mercutio would have mused that this was really no surprise, this violent ejection at dawn, but musing required thought and it was too early for thought. It was not too early to make half-mumbled noises of protest, and he did so liberally as he stumbled out of Tybalt's bed. There was a thump, of him getting tangled in the sheets and hitting the floor, but apparently that was all a part of his clever plan as he catapulted up again afterward with a pair of pants in his pants that he'd snagged from under the bed. His own, that he'd hidden to make Tybalt think he'd actually slunk all the way to his room naked, but he couldn't quite muster the brain power to wonder whether it'd worked or not.
Mercuti stood for a minute, swaying a little, then pitched forward to press something into Tybalt's hands. "Pr'sent," he mumbled, handing over a slightly squashed muffin. " 'Njoy."
He loped out, hitting the doorframe with a quiet oof as he went. His pants were still clutched in one hand.
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Post by Tybalt on Nov 18, 2008 21:37:50 GMT -5
*Tybalt looked down at the muffin in his hand with a frown then set it down on the bedside table. What an imbecile...
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stumbled off to bathe and dress.*
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Post by Mercutio on Apr 21, 2009 15:19:16 GMT -5
*NEW NIGHT*
The same night he'd been drinking with Rosalind and Alex, Mercutio shook hands with Tybalt's door, rattling the frame impatiently in lieu of picking the lock (Tybalt would hear him, if he were there, and if he did not it would serve him right for his rooms to be broken into). It was late, so late it was early, and despite the temporary warm cheer of his friends Mercutio was still not content. So he'd come here, because Tybalt was boring and predictable and probably in bed, and there was no range of reaction from the other man that Mercutio would not welcome now. He needed to do something to get out this restless itch, and he only had his dagger on him but if Tybalt would duel Mercutio would fight right here in the hallway. In any case, there would be no sleep for him tonight.
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Post by Tybalt on Apr 21, 2009 15:29:40 GMT -5
Tybalt was not, as a matter of fact, in bed, at least not in the usual sense of the term. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, back arched as he leaned his elbows on his knees and brooded. It was not brooding of the sullen and sulking variety, with which Mercutio would have been most familiar, wherein he attempted to find a strategy or solution to a problem that was irking him, and found he could think of nothing, and so stagnated. Rather, the crease in his brow was almost contemplative, the thoughts in his head more abstract, like faint ghosts as seen through a mist. He did not want to give them names.
But, whether he intended to or not, Mercutio saved him from the unsettling time he might have passed in thinking by rattling his door - as it was obviously him. Any actual thoughtfulness vanished as he fell into a brood of the first variety, predictably, upon this realization, and stood with a certain wariness and fatigue that did not quite destroy his athletic grace, heading swiftly towards the door to give it a kick.
He would not open it immediately, though, although he had thought to. No. Let the fool stew a moment.
"What do you want?" Voice brusque, irritated in a smouldering fashion. A more superstitious man might have thought of ghosts at the rattling of his doorway, but there were worse things than ghosts that could plague a man. In Tybalt's time in Paris, he'd learned that much.
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Post by Mercutio on Apr 21, 2009 15:41:49 GMT -5
"Tyballlllt...." Mercutio half-purred, half-moaned through the door, leaning against it heavily. It was not the moan of seduction, nor with any other sort of laviscious activity in mind, but rather a moan of pure frustration- was Tybalt not going to open his door? And indeed, for an outside observer the curve of Mercutio's spine and his forehead pressed to his arm spoke of distress, anguish, desolation- the ardent lover abandoned at his most needful. This was nearly entirely dramatics, however, for while Mercutio was not entirely drunk, he was drunk enough to feel a flare of intense disappointment and sullenness that Tybalt was not cooperating, and to put on a show about it. "I am here to taunt you, to tempt you, to distract you from needless sleep, so open up and be quick about it lest I make a fuss in the hallway and make your dear lovely aunt come investigate."
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Post by Tybalt on Apr 21, 2009 15:50:08 GMT -5
Tybalt's lips drew back from his teeth in a half-voiced snarl, a grimace, particularly as he recognized there was no way to win out against him. He was perfectly correct to assume that Tybalt felt fear or insecurity at the thought of Lady Capulet happening upon Mercutio engaging in lewd posturings against Tybalt's door, and that he could so easily exploit him this way without Tybalt's having a way to revenge himself for it frustrated him. He unlocked the door uneven-temperedly and threw it open, hand fisting over the keys afterwards and pressing against his own chest as though he needed to try and steady his unreliable heartbeat.
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Post by Mercutio on Apr 21, 2009 15:55:20 GMT -5
Mercutio straightened from the door right as Tybalt threw it open, having been expecting it, and stalked in immediately. He ran his gaze over the room as if he hadn't had time to examine it in the smallest detail the last time he was there, deliberately and provocatively slowly.
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Post by Tybalt on Apr 21, 2009 15:58:24 GMT -5
Tybalt shut the door behind him a little more viciously than the door really deserved, and had already begun to lock it before he could question himself. The combination of the hour and his general insomnia - chemically caused or otherwise - had made him a little less aware of these things, and he'd lapsed into the general pattern of shutting and locking the door behind him; but, realizing what he was doing, he decided not to stop himself. He'd have the upper hand over Mercutio in some way or another. The more out of hand he found the situation getting, the more he felt the need to twist it.
He didn't need to look back at Mercutio. From what he saw out of the corner of his eye, he knew exactly what he was doing, and he resisted rolling his eyes over it.
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Post by Mercutio on Apr 21, 2009 16:09:56 GMT -5
Minutes after the faint click of the lock faded, Mercutio spun, both hands palm-up and open and his eyes heavy-lidded with amusement. "So, Tybalt, who shall start, you or I?"
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Post by Tybalt on Apr 21, 2009 16:14:41 GMT -5
Tybalt cast him an ugly look and walked past him to resume his spot on the bed. He had quite deliberately kept his distance from Mercutio, not wanting to brush past him, to go near him. He was tired, but that did not at all mean he was immune, and Mercutio had burst in on him at a time when he was more than usually aware of the sordid nature of their... arrangement.
"For all you know," said Tybalt, looking away from him deliberately, almost rebelliously, "I shall go back to sleep. What makes you think - ?"
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Post by Mercutio on Apr 21, 2009 16:21:03 GMT -5
"That you won't?" Mercutio finished for him, folding his hands behind his back and coming closer with mincing, precisely placed steps. He smiled, very slowly, the whole thing ultimately and irrepressibly curling into a smirk. "Do you think you are likely to sleep with my watchful eyes on you?"
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Post by Tybalt on Apr 21, 2009 16:25:53 GMT -5
Tybalt stood, met his expression with disdain and walked past him, intending to pull out a decanter or bottle of some kind and have a drink as though Mercutio were not there, and not offer him one, too.
No, of course he wouldn't be likely to sleep. But why bother trying to reply to Mercutio. He would not have liked to admit Mercutio was right, no matter how obvious it might have been.
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