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After five years of friendship, he decides it’s time to do something about the lingering looks and unresolved tension. He decides that the dreams of skinny, sweat-stained, rough-faced boys are nothing to be ashamed of. He decides that fuck it, it’s time.
Benvolio took a deep breath. It’s now or never, he thought; even though he may regret it later, Benvolio tapped Mercutio on the shoulder, and as the boy turned around, Benvolio kissed him. To his surprise, Mercutio responded positively. After a moment, Benvolio felt arms snake around his waist, and Mercutio kissed back with passion. To Benvolio, it felt unlike any other kiss he had ever given or received. This was a clinking of teeth, a rubbing of noses, not knowing where to place one’s hands: the opposite of kissing a girl. This was dangerous, and made entirely of rough edges, and Benvolio loved it. If Mercutio’s soft moans were anything to go by, then Benvolio believed that he felt the same.
Sometime after the first collision of lips, Benvolio found himself pushed up against a wall, Mercutio’s thigh between his legs, each boy feeling the other growing harder and harder. Benvolio wasn’t sure how long had passed; it was easy to lose track of time when lost between Mercutio’s lips, thinking about nothing but their two bodies pressed to one another, and how lovely it would be to remove the abundance of clothing between them. All too soon, though, Mercutio pulled away, resting his forehead against Benvolio’s.
“Ben,” he gasped, the ghost of a smile spreading across his lightly sweat-soaked face, “what’s this all about?”
Benvolio gently pushed Mercutio away with his forehead, and slipped behind him to sit on Mercutio’s bed. “It felt right.”
“Well, trust me,” Mercutio laughed, sitting down beside Benvolio, “the feeling is mutual.” He grabbed the other boy’s hand, holding it in both of his.
Mercutio looked over at him, but Benvolio didn’t meet his gaze. He rested a hand on Benvolio’s chin, pushing his head up to look at him. “I’ve wanted you to do that forever,” he whispered, leaning towards Benvolio. Immediately, Benvolio’s lips parted in surprise, and Mercutio took the chance to slip his tongue between the other boy’s teeth. Mercutio’s hands wrapped around Benvolio’s slim waist as he pulled himself on top of the other boy, straddling him. One of Benvolio’s arms wrapped around Mercutio’s neck, lightly grasping the hair at the base of his neck. The other hand rested on Mercutio’s cheek, holding him as if Mercutio might slip away at any moment, and god, Benvolio didn’t want that to happen.
Dreams and fantasies about this were nothing, compared to the way Mercutio made Benvolio’s heart race in reality. The sensation of kissing someone after thinking about it for so long, after wanting them so badly, was astounding. Even more astounding was the way Mercutio seemed to know exactly what to do, where to kiss, what buttons to push to drive Benvolio crazy. As Benvolio thought this, Mercutio did just that: moving his mouth from the warmth of Benvolio’s, down to his jaw. Benvolio started to unbutton his shirt, pulling it over his shoulders in hopes that Mercutio’s lips would travel there. As he got lower, shifting from jaw to neck to chest, Mercutio’s kisses got dirtier and more desperate. He paused after a moment, to take off his own shirt and to smile up at Benvolio, before continuing.
Benvolio put a hand on Mercutio’s neck and pulled the other boy’s head up to meet his gaze, as Benvolio’s other hand slipped lower and lower. Thin but strong hands glided over Mercutio’s chest, and down to his stomach. Mercutio drew in a breath as Benvolio’s mouth followed the path set by his fingertips – kissing and licking each nipple first, but soon wandering to leave a trail of kisses down his stomach. Soon enough, he got to Mercutio’s jeans. Benvolio looked up at the other boy, and, when Mercutio nodded, proceeded to unzip the his pants. Slowly pulling down Mercutio’s boxers as well, Benvolio took in the sight of his friend naked. He was beautiful. Without fully registering it, Benvolio allowed Mercutio to pull off his clothing as well, and the two of them stood there, neither speaking nor touching, but simply taking each other in.
Benvolio made the first move, as it seemed he was often doing lately. Stepping towards Mercutio, Benvolio sunk to his knees and took Mercutio’s hardened cock in his hand, stroking it slowly at first, but speeding up as Mercutio responded positively. After a few moments, Benvolio’s hand slowed so that he could bring his mouth towards Mercutio. His tongue slid over the other boy’s cock, drawing back and forming a smile when Mercutio gasped and gripped the back of Benvolio’s neck. His mouth returned to suck on Mercutio’s tip as his hand continued jacking Mercutio off. “Benvolio, I,” Mercutio whined, “can’t-” He went silent as Benvolio’s mouth and hand moved away.
“You what,” Benvolio teased, wearing a grin that Mercutio had never seen before. The grin, seemingly, meant trouble. He stood, staring at Mercutio expectantly. “Did you think I was going to let you come that easily? It’s my turn. On your knees,” Benvolio demanded, waiting for Mercutio to comply. He did immediately, kneeling in front of his friend and enthusiastically taking in his cock. Benvolio’s fingers curled in Mercutio’s short hair, pulling his head closer, forcing his cock further down Mercutio’s throat. Mercutio took it in stride, continuing to suck the best he could as Benvolio thrust into him, fucking his mouth. Soon, Benvolio was close to an orgasm, but pulled out of Mercutio’s mouth before he could reach it. “Now it’s time for the real fun,” Benvolio grinned again, before turning around and fishing for something out of the pocket of his jeans. He turned back with two things in hand: lube, and a condom.
After guiding Mercutio to the bed, Benvolio laid him on his hands and knees before spreading his thighs and squirting some lube onto two fingers. He pushed one of those fingers into Mercutio’s asshole almost immediately, and, after a few strokes, pushed the second one in. Mercutio moaned in pleasure, thrusting backwards against Benvolio’s hand. “Benvolio,” he whispered, “I want you t- to do it.” With that, Benvolio opened the condom and slipped it onto his throbbing cock, before lining it up to Mercutio’s entrance. He pushed in, slowly at first, but gaining speed as Mercutio got used to it. Benvolio reached down to stroke Mercutio’s cock, not wanting to deny him any pleasure. The sex itself was more sensual than the events leading up to it – Benvolio was gentler now, wanting to stretch the time now, rather than rush through it. The two were no longer fucking: now, they were making love. Months of tension between them was finally being resolved, and damn, Benvolio wanted to take his time with that. Mercutio writhed beneath him, whimpering his name and matching each of his thrusts. They continued like that, grunting and panting, all boy-sweat and happiness, thinking of nothing but what was going on, right then and there, between the two of them.
Soon, Benvolio couldn’t take it anymore. He heard Mercutio’s voice, whispering his name, and was put over the edge. After pulling out, Benvolio started stroking Mercutio faster, wanting nothing more than to see him come. “Come on, Mercutio,” he whispered in the other boy’s ear, “come for me.” After a few more moments, Mercutio came into Benvolio’s hand with a shudder. Benvolio kissed him then, tasting sweat and the faint trace of his own cock on Mercutio’s lips. He turned and walked to Mercutio’s bathroom to clean himself up. When he returned to the bedroom, Mercutio was lying in bed, staring at him.
“What?” Benvolio asked, walking towards the bed.
“Nothing,” Mercutio shook his head with a smile, “I just can’t believe you had the balls to do something like this.”
“I think you’ve just learned, quite literally, that I do indeed have balls.”