https://urlzs.com/3U479

okay i know its a fucking stretch for a 'club' oneshot but this was my chain of thought: school clubs--->dance clubs--->rival clubs--->rival gangs--->...rival families

It was the party of the century. The house of Capulet was decorated from top to bottom with enough gold and streamers to put them in debt (though that was impossible, they always had a steady stream of cash coming in) and the servants of the household were all but buried with work. 

However, as the patrons flooded in, Mister and Mrs. Capulet were delighted with the turnout. It was about time that Keith, their son, found a wife so that the heir to the Capulet fortune was viable, and he might as well find the lucky woman that night. Little did they know, their son was flamingly gay and had no intentions of meeting anyone to marry that night. 

Keith Capulet, son of the richest couple in Northern Verona, was upstairs, examining his appearance in the mirror. He ran a hand over his cheek and observed the blending magic trick his maid had done with his makeup. His jaw and cheekbones were contoured and there was a pretty pink glow on the apples of his cheeks. 

His eyelids were dusted with a fine, gold shimmery powder and he wore mascara on his lashes. He looked pretty. Keith looked to the outfit laid out on his bed his mother had picked out for him- a billowy white button-up with tight grey slacks and a set of handmade angel wings for the costume aspect. Laying beside the outfit was an elegant white masquerade mask, a staple of Capulet parties. 

"I'll look to like, if looking liking move; but no more deep will I endart mine eye," he whispered the words he'd told his mother earlier when she'd asked him about finding a wife at the party. The last thing he wanted to do was find some pretty gold-digging teenager who only wanted his money. No, if he ever ended up having to marry someone like that, he promised himself he'd have an affair with a stable boy or the cook or something. 

He buttoned his shirt, zipped his fly, and pulled on the angel wings before heading downstairs, almost forgetting his mask. 

The party was already in full swing as he walked down the staircase, passing groups of tittering girls dressed in outrageously revealing costumes that barely fit the masquerade aesthetic. He wandered through the party, searching for Tybolt, his cousin, for any company at all. 

Sighing, Keith resigned to lingering by the bathrooms, staring at a fish tank that seemed to have just appeared that night, it's marine accompaniments included. His eyes darted between the shelves of coral and rock in search of the weirdest fish he could find. 

It was only when he crouched down to look beneath an arch of coral did he see a face staring back at him. Not only a face, a handsome face. Not only a handsome face but quite possibly the most handsome face Lance had ever seen.  He straightened abruptly, as did the stranger, and felt his heartbeat escalate quickly. 

The boy on the other side of the tank was a bright kind of gorgeous, his dark brown hair falling to the nape of his neck, his dark blue eyes detailed with black liner and silver shadow, lips slightly parted as he looked at Keith with an intense kind of curiosity. The boy was dressed as a knight, his shirt made of delicate, decorative chainmail, but he didn't wear a mask. Keith let his own fall to his side. 

They stood there, just taking each other in, swaying slightly like the artificial seaweed in the tank to the music playing in the background, their eyes searching each other. Never before had Keith felt so strongly about a person after meeting them so quickly, but his heart seemed to know exactly what was going on as his cheeks heated up pleasantly. 

Then, all too soon, Keith felt a pull at his arm and the sound of his maid saying "Mister, your mother calls!" He sent one last lingering glance at the handsome stranger before allowing himself to be pulled away. 

It turned out that the reason for his mother's call was due to the fact that Lady Prince had just arrived, an eligible bachelorette who Mrs. Capulet wanted to set her son up wit. Keith allowed himself to be passed around the family, talking to Lady Prince's mother and father pleasantly, even dancing with Lady Prince to prove a point, but the whole time, he was thinking of the stranger. 

It was only when Lady Prince decided to attempt the Limbo did Keith scan the crowd that gathered around the dance floor. Almost immediately, he was able to pick out the stranger. He was leaning against one of the pillars in the back, his eyes on Keith, his stance relaxed and inviting. 

The first chance he got, Keith pulled away from his family and Lady Prince and hurried furtively over to the stranger. As soon as they met, the boy reached out and took Keith's hands, eyes bright with excitement. "Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight? For I never saw true beauty till this night."

Keith's heart went wild at the words, even if they were purely sweet talk. 

The boy looked down at their intertwined hands and spoke softly. "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss." The stranger looked pointedly at Keith's lips, his eyelashes battling innocently. 

Keith laughed, blushing, and turned away, though still holding onto the stranger's warm hands tightly. "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

The stranger leaned down and spoke in a husky whisper right in Keith's ear. "Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"

Keith went rigid, his cheeks no doubt bright cherry red as he stuttered, pushing the handsome boy away weakly. "Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer."

The boy clutched his heart dramatically, his angelic voice washing over Keith's senses like a tidal wave of attraction. "Well, then, dear saint, let lips do," he bent down closer, "what hands do;" Keith felt the stranger squeeze his hands gently, "They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

Keith spoke matter-of-factly (though with great difficulty, as he did, actually want to kiss this handsome, grinning stranger), "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake." He looked around at the party and, while most of the attendees were busy watching the drunks make fools of themselves on the dance floor, he pulled the boy out of their line of sight and behind the pillar, then pressing himself closer to the boy with a tiny smile. 

The boy's hands snaked around his waist and a shallow, nervous breath escaped Keith's lips as he heard the whisper of words, "Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged."

The kiss was sweet and slow and soft, like the feathers at Keith's back, like the stranger's hair slipping through Keith's fingers. The broke apart with a stunning realization of what they'd done. Keith promptly burst into a helpless bout of giggles, the stranger watching him in delighted fascination. 

"Then have my lips the sin that they have took," Keith managed to say between fits of laughter but the stranger kissed him again, interrupting his thoughts, mumbling into his lips. 

"Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again."

When they finally pulled apart, Keith poked the firm chest of the boy and grinned. "You kiss by the book," he informed him helpfully. 

Keith peeked around the pillar and felt his heart drop. His maid was quickly running his way, her skirt held in on hand as she hurried across the room. 

Keith turned back to the stranger and frowned, trying to memorize the face, scratch it into his memory. The stranger's eyes caught Keith's sour expression and they seemed to ask what was wrong, but before Keith could answer, the nurse arrived, grabbing Keith's wrist and pulling him away from the boy. "Mister, your mother craves a word with you. Come, let's away."

As Keith was tugged away from the knight, but it was then that a thought occurred to him. He glanced over his shoulder once more at the boy and felt his heart sink. He knew him from somewhere, but he didn't remember where.

At the pillar, the boy stood, the same notion running over his skin like goosebumps in the cold. "Is he a Capulet?" he wondered aloud. 

When Keith's maid turned to urge him to move more quickly and traced his longing gaze to the pillar, she stopped abruptly and frowned. "His name is Lance, and he's a Montague; the only son of your great enemy."

if you havent seen romeo + juliet (the baz luhrmann one lmao) then wATCH it omg!! okay 1) baz luhrmann is a crazy good director 2) leonardo dicaprio, need i say more? 3) the script is actual lines from the shakespear play!! also if you havent read that then you should lmao its good shit