A/N: Realized that in the last one, I kind of messed up my mental timeline D:. Hamlet's father isn't supposed to be dead…yet…even if it seemed that way. Maybe Claudius is just an annoying loser like that. Yes. Let's go with that.
And I really wish you could type out little hearts in here without them being eaten up. ): Hamlet's texts would be so much cuter and embarrassing if you could, in my opinion.
This one seems more serious than the other one. Hum. Maybe because it's in Horatio's point of view? Well, anyways, I hope this isn't disappointing.
To Polymath78: Thank you so much for your review. It made waking up and going to school much more pleasant. I really had a lot of fun writing Hamlet and Horatio and I'm so glad you enjoyed it.
-caelumdeity

2.

Horatio tries not to think about the implications of his meeting with Hamlet, but it seems impossible. He isn't quite sure why he never noticed it before, but he suddenly became sharply aware that his roommate's name is Marcellus, he spends a great deal of time talking with Barnardo (who sort of comes with Marcellus), and that the guy across the hall from him is Laertes. Whose younger sister's name is Ophelia and she just happens to be in the same year as Hamlet. Hamlet mentioned it once, but it started to scare both of them so they quickly changed topics and silently swore to never speak of it again.

Hamlet has also taken to getting Horatio to pick him up and take him to his dorm or elsewhere when Hamlet doesn't feel like going to his house (which is pretty much always), and today is no exception. Horatio doesn't particularly mind, except it gets harder by the day to ignore the fact that Hamlet enjoys taking a nap in his bed.

"I'm jealous, Horatio," Hamlet mutters sleepily.

Horatio tears himself from his thoughts and stares at Hamlet. "Of whom?"

Hamlet props himself up on his elbows. "Your girlfriend."

"You know I don't have a girlfriend, Hamlet." Horatio mentally sighs as he turns back to his laptop.

"Oh yes you do!" Hamlet announces accusingly. "And her name is Education!"

Horatio has never been so glad that Marcellus takes the later classes. He would never hear the end of it otherwise. "Oh, is it?"

"Yes. She takes up all of your time."

Horatio raises his eyebrows. "Does she?" They're treading dangerous waters right now. Both of them are aware of their attraction towards one another, but they've never breached the topic. It's almost the only other thing that they actually avoid talking about.

"You're always busy when I want to go out with you."

Horatio looks away from his laptop again to look at Hamlet. Hamlet is curled up under the blankets around his pillow. He is seriously sulking. If it isn't so worrying, Horatio would find it kind of adorable. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you."

"Break up with her, Horatio." Hamlet claims he's never whined once in his life, but Horatio certainly counts that as whining.

"I'm not sure that's such a great idea."

Hamlet's sigh is greatly exaggerated. "I didn't mean to dump her completely. Honestly. You can just be friends, or something."

"What about Ophelia?"

"She can't get over the fact that I text you during class."

"I can't get over that either, to be perfectly honest."

"Don't think you can get away with that."

Horatio sighs, closes his laptop, removes his glasses, and goes to sit on the bed. He leans back on his hands, taking care not to lean on Hamlet. "I really don't think it's a good idea."

"Then don't think," Hamlet says simply, getting up so he can latch his arms around Horatio's neck. "Doesn't it get tiring?" He whispers, lips brushing against his ear.

Horatio jerks back in shock and falls back onto the bed. He swallows nervously and tries to gently push Hamlet off of him. "I think it's worth it."

"But where's the fun in that?"

"Hamlet, we can't."

"Why not?" Hamlet frowns, and it really looks like he can't understand.

Horatio covers his eyes with his hand; Hamlet's stare is unnerving. He can never look into those wide, icy blue eyes without immediately caving in. "It's impossible."

"Slamming a revolving door is possible if someone's foot is there."

"Someone will get hurt."

"It won't be either of our feet."

"You can't know that."

Hamlet sits back and Horatio removes his hand to make sure he hadn't accidentally fallen off or something. "You're scared!"

Horatio is silent for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond. Finally, he gives in. "So what if I am? Have you thought this through for even one moment? There's no way this can end well."

"I have! And I don't care!"

Horatio's breath hitches at Hamlet's expression. He's really mad, and Horatio can see tears starting to form in his eyes. And even though he's certain part of it is acting, it hurts all the same. "Don't…Hamlet…" He carefully sits up and cups Hamlet's face. "I'm sorry."

Hamlet doesn't hesitate to lean forward and kiss Horatio soundly on the lips, pushing them both back down. Horatio hums deeply, letting his fingers thread through Hamlet's hair (black, wavy, and soft) as he responds. Perfect.

"See, isn't this better?" Hamlet mutters as he pulls away.

"It's not like I can argue against you anyways." Horatio smiles and leans up to kiss him again but Marcellus chooses that time to loudly barge in.

"Horatio, do you want to go—"

Horatio stares at him with wide eyes while Hamlet just sits there with his hands still on Horatio's shoulders. "Uh…"

Marcellus smirks. "Or I can just go with Barnardo if you're busy. Although I thought we had an agreement that we wouldn't have any of this business here?"

"We weren't going to," Horatio mumbles, pushing Hamlet back so he can sit up. "Besides, it's about time I returned the little bird to his nest."

Hamlet crosses his arms and frowns. "What?"

"Dinner, and then I'm taking you home," Horatio says in what he hopes is a no-questions tone.

"Hey, wait, it's a Friday."

"I thought if you touch a baby bird in the wild the parents won't accept it back," Marcellus quips in interruption, still hovering by the doorway.

Horatio frowns. "You still have to go home and you," he glares at Marcellus, "are not helping."

"No, it's cute watching you two argue," Marcellus says lightly, "that and I just got a hundred bucks richer."

Hamlet looks amused for a second before turning back to Horatio to give him his kicked-puppy-on-a-rainy-street eyes. "I'll tell them I'm with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern."

"And when they ask them?"

"They won't."

"…Just this once," Horatio sighs, finally scooting out from under him so that he can stand.

"So…Dinner?" Marcellus nudges.

"Yes, yes. You two are impossible."

A few days later, Horatio is curled up in his bed, trying to fend off a headache. He had rushed to the room in hopes that they still had some aspirin, but it seems as if Marcellus relies on Horatio to restock "his" supply, so now he is stuck laying there, trying to make it disappear through sheer force of will.

His phone beeps. He groans lightly and gropes for his phone, because Hamlet will yell at him later if he doesn't respond. 'Horatio, save me.'

Horatio smiles and rolls his eyes at the text. 'Stop texting me during class.'

'Pick me up later?'

'I've got a headache, Ham.'

'Oh…I'll see you tomorrow, then. And stop calling me that. I'm nothing like pig meat. ):'

Horatio starts chuckling before he realizes that makes his head hurt even more and stops. He throws his phone on the floor and is about to hide under his comforter, but Marcellus the Slacker loudly enters.

"Hey, 'Ratio—"

"Stop talking, unless you have a bottle of aspirin with you."

"Oh that's what I had to remind you about."

"Go away."

Horatio's phone beeps in the following silence. When Horatio fails to answer it, Marcellus slowly asks, "Uh…aren't you going to answer that?"

"No, Hamlet knows I have a headache. Now go away or shut up." But Horatio's arm peeks out from his blankets and grabs his phone anyways before disappearing again.

'Just think of my love and you'll instantly feel better!'

Horatio smiles. 'And you call me embarrassing. I'm going to sleep now, so you pay attention to your teacher for once, Ham.'

'How cruel. I was being serious, you know. ;)'

He dumps his phone back on the floor, hiding his grin in his pillow. He knows Marcellus will look through his messages and make fun of him later, but sleeping is more important right now. He might even feel good enough later to call Hamlet. Maybe.

He still can't believe that they're officially a couple, but he tries not to think too hard about that either.