A/N: Yeah, so another one! I bet you're all excited! And if not, you should be. I haven't posted ANYTHING in months, and this has been in the works for about ¾ of a year now. It's not done, so you'll still have to be patient with me, but there's almost 50 pages written, so it should come pretty steadily for a while.

NOTES: Once again, this is AU and slash, so Hamlet and Horatio are now in modern times, Hamlet's dad is president and is still alive, and the boys are gay and in love. They just don't know it yet. :D

DEDICATIONS: This one goes to Jess and Meg. Because last year, when we worked on our Hamlet project together, Jess gave me the idea to write Hamlet and Horatio on roller skates, which I'm sure we all remember, and that turned out well. So I started thinking on how I could corrupt this, my favorite Shakespeare, even more, and of course that led me to this idea. I told them my ideas and they contributed and the three of us tossed ideas around at a lunch table in the cafeteria, and lo and behold! The story was born. Also to my sister, for coming up with the title.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any thing of Shakespeare's, not Hamlet, not Horatio, nothing. I also do not own the title...that belongs to Meg-ling, my older sister.

CLAIMER: I do in fact own Thomas, who you will meet in this ficlet. Jess and I are very excited about the introduction of the Thomas, who you will see very often in fics to follow. He is a secret service agent whose sole job is guarding/watching over Hamlet and Horatio. So yeah, be prepared for the awesomeness that is Thomas. I guess I should give just a wee bit of background info. Hamlet comes from a v. rich family, so he's always had a bodyguard. That bodyguard used to be Thomas, and now he works for the government and has to watch Hamlet again. So he and Hamlet and Horatio go waaaaaay back and he's none too crazy about it. That's pretty much all you need to know in that regard.

I also own Horatio's coat and hat, and pretty much all their skating gear for that matter, and the car they're in. And Thomas. But that's it for this chapter.

FICLET NOW!

"Come on Horatio, hurry up! We have to beat the crowd!"

"I'm not going."

"Oh yes you are."

"No I'm not."

Laughter. "Oh yes you fucking are!"

"Hamlet, no!"

"Horatio, come down here!"

Standing at the top of the stairs, Horatio shook his head stubbornly. "No, no, no. I absolutely refuse."

"No you don't, you never say no to me."

"Well I am now. Figure skating is where I draw the line."
"Horatio," Hamlet sighed. "You promised that you'd come!"

"After much prodding and annoyance on your part."

"So what? You still said you'd come. Now get down here."

Horatio stared at Hamlet as though considering the idea, then shook his head firmly. "Nope," he said. "Not doing it."

Hamlet growled. "Horatio, if you don't come down here and put on some winter gear then I'm going to bring you down here by force and DRESS YOU!"

Horatio's eyes widened in something akin to fear; he immediately sat down, arms wrapping tightly about the stair railing. "You can't make me," he said.

"Oh, CAN'T I?" Hamlet stomped up the stairs, much to Horatio's growing terror, and, leaning over, began fiercely tickling Horatio, who began wriggling something awful.

"HAMLET! NO! I don't….STOP IT!" Horatio was trying to hold onto the stair railing and make Hamlet stop at the same time, but it wasn't working well. At that moment, a tour guide entered, leading a group of people through the white house and unfortunately stumbling upon the two boys. There was a long moment's silence as everyone paused. Then the woman seemed to gain control of herself.

"And on your immediate left you have the president's son, Hamlet, who seems to be…..severely molesting another boy."

Hamlet grinned, pleasantly surprised by the added attention, and waved enthusiastically. Horatio was bright red and looked as though he wanted to sink into the floor as everyone laughed, some of the people waving back.

"….right," the tour guide said. "Moving on…" and she lead the people out of the room, leaving the two boys alone again. Hamlet immediately set to tickling Horatio again.

"HAMLET! STOP!" Finally, against his will, Horatio let go of the railing and reached to grab Hamlet's hands and force him to stop. However, he made the somewhat catastrophic mistake of kicking Hamlet at the same moment. His feet connected with Hamlet's stomach, knocking the wind out of the brunette and also propelling him backwards. If Horatio hadn't been holding Hamlet's hands at that point, Hamlet would have taken the fall alone. Instead, he dragged Horatio down with him, the two of them tumbling down the stairs in a ball of curse words and flailing fists. Finally, they landed in a tangled heap at the bottom of the stairs, hitting the polished wood floor hard.

"……ow," Hamlet said weakly several moments later.

"Your fault," Horatio accused him breathlessly.

"My fault?" Hamlet repeated as though shocked by the accusation (which he really wasn't at all). "How is it my fault?"

"You tickled me!"

"Yeah, and there would have been no need to do that if you weren't being such a pansy!"

"I AM NOT A PANSY!"

"Then put on the fucking winter gear and let's get going!"

Horatio sighed. "Fine. I'll come, I'll come.

Hamlet brightened considerably. "YAY!"

Horatio shook his head. "MAN are you gay!"

Hamlet winked. "You know it, hot stuff."

Horatio let out another long suffering sigh. "What do I have to wear?"

Hamlet took a step back, hand beneath his chin as he gave Horatio a once over to determine how much extra clothing the blonde had to put on. Horatio felt himself blushing as Hamlet's eyes traced over his body, taking in the worn t-shirt and the black pants, the untied snowboots. "Well?" he demanded.

"Okay," Hamlet began, sounding as though he had just solved an extremely difficult mathematical problem, "I know what we're doing now. First, you have to get rid of this." Stepping forward, he grabbed the bottom of Horatio's t-shirt and began tugging it up.

"Hey, HEY!" Horatio cried, swatting at Hamlet's hands. "I thought we were putting stuff ON, not taking it OFF!"

"Yeah, well the coat is big, you need to take the shirt off for it to fit just right…..it's all about layering, Horatio, darling!"

Horatio stared at Hamlet, then shook his head. "I just know you're just using this as an excuse to strip me."

"But of course!" Hamlet said. "Now lift your arms."

Sighing, Horatio complied and Hamlet tugged the shirt up. "You know, I am perfectly capable of undressing myself," he said, voice muffled by the shirt.

"Are you?" Hamlet asked. "Then you should do it more often. People like you should be naked all the time." He pulled the shirt off, dropping it to the floor. Clad in just a white wife-beater (which Hamlet noted clung to the blonde's chest quite nicely), Horatio stared at him, one eyebrow arched.

"Is that so?"

"Oh yes," Hamlet grinned. "Nudity, 24/7."

"I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you, you kinky fuck."

"Of course!" Hamlet said, laughing. "All I want in life is your sexy body, Horatio, haven't you figured that out yet?"

"Oh yes, my scrawny, stark white body," Horatio said. "So sexy, I know."

Hamlet couldn't help but laugh at that. It was true. Horatio was the palest person he knew, and one of the skinniest. "You know it, baby. You're hot. In fact…" he fanned himself with one hand. "I think I may need a cigarette right now….your mere presence is just too much for me to handle!"

Horatio laughed. "I bet. Now come on, I thought we had to beat the crowd."

"Oh, right…sorry," Hamlet said, rummaging through the pile of winter clothes, "Your hotness made me forget all about our plans for the day."

"Damn, I wish I hadn't reminded you."

"Ha ha, Horatio, very funny." Hamlet straightened up, holding up a light sweater. "Okay, now put this on!"

"….if I'm putting on a sweater, why'd I have to take off the shirt?"

"Just do it, Horatio, you'll see why."

Horatio complied, pulling the black sweater on over his head, tousling his hair something awful, and immediately got Hamlet's point. The sweater was nearly skintight, clinging to his body. It was nice and warm, so he wouldn't get cold on the ice, but it was tight and thin enough that it would still fit well under a jacket. "Okay, I get it."

Hamlet grinned. "Good." He pulled off his own shirt. He wasn't wearing anything under the t-shirt, and Horatio averted his eyes with some difficulty, trying to make it look as though he weren't blatantly checking Hamlet out. Hamlet, always captain of every sports team, had always had a nice build to him, not heavy but toned.

Horatio's gawking (however brief) did not go unnoticed by Hamlet, who smiled to himself at the flush creeping up the back of Horatio's neck. "Hey, I'll be back in a second, okay? I want to change my pants."

Horatio nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and Hamlet left the room. Horatio sat down on the floor in front of the fireplace, mind wandering back to the way Hamlet had looked leaving the room, the muscles in his back moving fluidly beneath the smooth tanned skin. Get a hold of yourself, he ordered, shaking his head. Will not do to fantasize about best friend, will not do at all.

"I'm back!"

Horatio jumped in surprise at the loudness of Hamlet's voice, rising to his feet. Hamlet was grinning, and now fully clothed, something which gave Horatio mixed feelings. On the one hand he was grateful for it because his utterly blatant staring wouldn't become a problem, but he still felt a pang of regret at all that perfect skin being covered by layers of fabric. His mind immediately trailed off as he thought about how he'd like to get Hamlet alone and slowly peel off each layer one by one…

"Horatio?"

Horatio jumped again. Hamlet was staring at him with some amusement. "You okay, buddy?"

"Er….yeah."

"Okay….here…I brought your coat!"

Horatio looked at the gargantuan puffy….thing…that Hamlet was holding up in front of him. "…..you've gotta be kidding me."

"Nope."

"……………you call that a coat!"

"Yup."

"Hamlet….it's HUGE!"

"I know." Hamlet grinned.

Horatio sighed, but held out his arms. Hamlet helped him slip into the coat. "Well, at least I know that when I fall down I won't get hurt," he said sarcastically. "Nothing's getting through this thing."

"ExxxxxxxxxACTLY." Hamlet zipped the coat and Horatio stood there, look on his face plainly saying that he was not at all amused. "WHAT?" Hamlet demanded.

"Hamlet….I can't put my arms down." It was true; Horatio's arms stuck out, the puff of the jacket preventing him from lowering his arms all the way.

"Hmm…" Hamlet placed one hand on each of Horatio's arms and pushed them down. A moment later, he let go, and Horatio's arms sprang back up again. He tried again. Same thing. A snicker escaped.

Horatio glared. "Hamlet," he growled.

"Hey, don't look at me!" Hamlet protested. "Mom bought it for you! Now come on…you said so yourself, it's a good thing! You can't get hurt!"

"Yeah, but I can't do anything else, either," Horatio muttered.

"Pffft, what kind of talk is that?" Hamlet said. "Come on, let's go, the car is waiting."

"What about the skates?" Horatio asked, stalling for time.

"They're already in the car. Let's go." Horatio moved to go, but Hamlet stopped him. "Wait a minute, I almost forgot!" Reaching into the pocket of his parka, he pulled out a fluffy blue and green ski cap and jammed it onto Horatio's head. "There!"

"….you've gotta be kidding me," Horatio said yet again.

"Nope….mom made it for you. Specifically. To match your eyes."

Horatio sighed again. He couldn't do a thing if it was made by Gertrude. She had always been the completely adoring mother he had never known, so there was no way he would refuse a gift, especially one she spent her time to make when she actually went out of her way to color coordinate it to his eyes. He moved to walk past Hamlet to go out to the car. The snickering started up again. Growling, he kept walking. "What is it NOW?"

Snicker snicker. "You waddle."

"What?"

The snickers were turning into giggles. "You're waddling."

"I most certainly am NOT."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"You are too, Horatio, you silly waddling dork."

"Shut up." Horatio tried to walk faster, but that only made it worse. He could feel himself rocking slightly back and forth as he moved. Oh God, he thought, humiliation hitting him, I really am waddling! Way to look hot in front of Hamlet.

Hamlet was still behind him, having a major attack of the giggles at the sight of the normally skinny Horatio waddling down the hallway, nearly two times his normal size in that huge puffy blue parka.

"Hamlet!"

"Sorry, sorry!" They went out the front door to the car, where Thomas, the Secret Service agent who usually accompanied them on outings like this, was waiting. The man jumped when he saw them, looking taken aback at the sight of Huge Horatio.

"..." As usual, Thomas didn't utter a word, merely stood there in silence, staring at the blue parka. Horatio, who was always under the suspicion that all the Secret Servicemen thought he was a Grade A Loser, looked flustered and annoyed and huffed a bit. Thomas seemed to regain control of himself. "...the car is ready."

"Thanks," Hamlet managed, still trying to control his laughter. "After you, sir," he said, bowing to Horatio. Thomas opened the door and Horatio went to get in….and stopped halfway in. "Horatio, what're you doing?" Hamlet asked.

"Ummmm…I'm stuck."

"WHAT?"

"I'm stuck!"

If Horatio had thought Hamlet's giggling was bad, he was in for an unpleasant surprise as Hamlet started full out hysterically laughing, doubled over and gasping for breath.

"Hamlet, it's not FUNNY! I'm stuck!"

"What….do you want…me….to do?" Hamlet asked in between laugher.

"HELP ME!"

"…….okay." Hamlet pondered the situation for only a moment before a huge grin lit up his face. He placed one foot on Horatio's backside…..

"Hamlet? What're you doing?"

……and gave Horatio a great shove. Horatio went flying into the backseat headfirst, hitting his head on the opposite door. "OW! FUCK!"

Hamlet slid in next to Horatio. "Okay, Tommy Boy, take it away."

Sighing, Thomas shut the back door and got in front. "Damn kid," he muttered under his breath.

Horatio was still taking up far too much room. Hamlet gave Horatio's backside a swat. "Move it! You're taking up the whole backseat."

"I can't!"

Hamlet sighed. "God, you're so incompetent, Horatio!" He grabbed Horatio's hands and hauled the blonde to a sitting position.

Within moments they were at the pond, and Horatio stared with apprehension out the window, dreading not only the skating but the whole trying to get out of the car part, for he was certain to get stuck again. Damn this jacket, he thought furiously. Damn this silly hat, damn this entire trip.

"You okay, Horatio?"

Horatio turned his head, mouth already open to tell Hamlet that no, he was most certainly not okay. But then he stopped, mouth still hanging open. Because there was Hamlet. His best friend. The one he'd known nearly all his life, the only person he could remember as always being there for him. Hamlet, with his ridiculously unkempt hair and those green eyes full of such curious concern for Horatio's emotional state. And every one of Horatio's arguments vanished, face melting into a small smile. "Fine," he said. "I'm fine."

The concern in Hamlet's eyes disappeared and that goofy grin spread across his face. "Good." And that was it. All that Horatio needed for every worry he had to get pushed to the farthest reaches of his brain. Let someone else do the worrying. This was Hamlet. And Hamlet wouldn't ever let him down.

...right?

tbc