Disclaimer- I, of course, own neither this anime nor Romeo and Juliet itself. You know, since I'm not Shakespeare.
I just finished the anime, and boy, did Francisco and Curio seem to be incredibly hot for each other. I've never seen two men be able to admit their love for a girl and still sound fruity as all hell. :P Anyways, it inspired me to write this. :)
At first, it was only the grief.
It began during the battle, a quick, hard thing that ebbed and flowed with their success. There was no love, only longing for that which neither of them could have. Francisco let himself be slammed against the wall and fucked because his heart hurt and his body ached and sometimes it was better not to think. Curio fucked him because Francisco was soft, not as soft as a woman but close enough, and with him he could pretend.
Then, as the pain of unrequited love began to fade, it became something else. Curio would run his hands through Francisco's hair and kiss his throat, while Francisco would allow himself to fall into Curio's strong arms, running calloused fingers over the scar that marred his eye.
It was Francisco's ear that Curio whispered his coveted dream into, his dream for a shop of his own, to stand behind the counter and watch people, free people, people of the city he had helped free, shop. He whispered his fears and his dreams, and Francisco listened. Curio stopped taking Francisco against walls and over desks, always making sure that when he pushed Francisco, there was a bed for him to fall on. Slowly, fucking turned into making love.
It was Curio that Francisco went to when he cried for his parents, tears he shared with no one, not even his sister, for he could not let himself be weak in front of others, not now that he was famous in the people's eyes. He cried for those he had lost, not only his parents, but Cordelia, who was not dead but married and gone, leaving him with an empty house and fulfilled revenge. Francisco went to Curio when he was lonely.
They began to go out, not with swords hidden under their coats as before, but together, their hands entwined. Francisco still bowed to ladies and swooned with flowers, but he dropped them moment he was out of their sight in favor of leaning against large, safe Curio. They visited diners together, ones with candles on the table, and Francisco left his loneliness behind as he casually, carefully, moved into Curio's home, taking only what he needed, for he needed little to be happy.
Curio began waiting up for Francisco, feigning enrapture in a book when the doorknob would turn. When he entered, tired from council meetings and arguing old men and diplomacy, Curio would pull him close with large, rough hands and kiss his brow, Francisco laughing but deeply touched, for he had not been held with such care for many years.
They would retire, often just lying there next to each other, for Curio had a long-unfulfilled desire in his heart for warm blankets fitted snugly around their bodies, coaxing them to sleep, and Francisco was always willing to oblige. Curio would wake up in the morning with Francisco's head on his chest and his arms wrapped around his neck.
It began with grief and ended with love.
Reviews are love! :)