(No song for this one, sorry.)

An author on Ao3 put this so well that I just had to show you guys.

"I've read every comment like a million times and it makes me super happy that people are enjoying my silly writing about a 400 year old play, thank you so much!! <3"

That's basically how it goes.

I think this will be good? On-a-whim writing at 5:33 AM because I woke up at 1:00 for no reason. I've been reading Wittenberg AU Hamlet x Horatio shit and I've noticed a pattern...

Ros and Guil are one of three things: not there, a terrible bother, or the only other characters present, perhaps aside from Ophelia, who tends to be indefinitely trapped at Elsinore.

Am I the only one who sees this?

I should just write before I talk myself out of it in favor of a power nap.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

~ Horatio's PoV ~

I had been standing in front of this door for what felt like a year, now, but upon briefly grounding myself in reality I remembered it had been forty-five seconds.

Nevertheless, deciding whether or not to knock was nerve-wracking. I raised and lowered my fist in a lovely cycle of indecision.

Finally, the powers that be decided to end my suffering by sending Rosencrantz out of his dorm to greet me.

"H-Horatio? What are you doing here?" He stuttered after recovering from the shock of almost barreling me over.

"Ratio's here?" Called a voice that could only have been Guildenstern's from inside.

"Ros, Guil, I... um, I fucked up and I needed to rant so I guess I came here?"

I really hate it when my mouth goes on autopilot. I didn't want to tell them what I came here to tell them!

"Sure thing," Ros said, still mildly baffled.

I plopped down on their couch with about as much grace as a drugged snorlax. Guil rolled his wheely office chair up behind me, and Ros perched on the cushion by my side.

"You never talk to us unless Hamlet's also talking to us," Ros deadpanned.

"Yes, that's why I came to you-"

He cut me off. "But I suppose he can't be everywhere when you need him."

"Yes he can," I grumbled.

"That's impossible," he said. "You can't seriously think Hamlet's omnipotent. Or perfect. But..." he paused for a dramatic sigh, "alas, you seem unable to see his flaws for what they are."

"I know he's not perfect," I defended.

"You literally told me yesterday that you can't find a single flaw in him," Guil added.

A heavy silence settled over the three of us as I realized yes, godammit, those words did come out of my mouth with consent from my brain. I relented.

"Fine! He's so perfect and he acts like I'm equally perfect and it fucking scares me!"

They went silent again. I sighed heavily, realizing that the cat was out of the bag (had it even been in the bag in the first place?) and I'd have to continue that statement.

"Guys, he's actually flawless. He- I can't..." I firmly bit back another lovesick sigh and switched gears. "The other day, night, we were walking outside and he was looking up at the stars. He had this soft smile and he looked so happy, and he was getting lost in the sky and it was all I could do not to just melt right there, and then-"

"And then what?" Ros pressed.

"And then he looked at me the exact same way. He does it a lot. He looks at me like I hung the moon, and it's absolutely terrifying."

The two exchanged a confused glance that I couldn't decipher before Guil translated.

"But... why does it bother you?"

"Have we been reading you wrong?" Ros fretted.

"No, God no, it doesn't bother me, I love it more than anything, and that's the terrifying part."

Guil furrowed his eyebrows and gazed vacantly at the floor, trying to comprehend the swirl of thoughts I classified as either Scary Legitimate Human Emotions or Complete Bullshit; Hamlet's Just Magical depending on the day.

"So... what happened?" Ros deadpanned.

I sucked in a breath and bit my lip, expertly avoiding eye contact with the two intent listeners.

"I kissed him," I whispered at the lowest volume possible.

"You WHAT?" They squealed in perfect unison.

"I kissed him, but he didn't want to be kissed, apparently, because he didn't respond and so I left and now he probably never wants to speak to me again," I finished.

"But that doesn't make any sense," Ros gushed, frantically gesturing as if it would make his point more valid. "He's completely whipped over you, there's no reasonable explanation as to why he wouldn't kiss back!"

"The mutual pining has been going on forever," Guil interjected.

"Right, you're right, so what kind of situation would change the anticipated reaction?"

As the two contemplated human psychology, I indulged myself in a little wallowing. I wallowed in the fact that I was absolutely head over heels for my best friend. I wallowed in the memory of my lips on his, and the horrified eyes I caught a glimpse of as he fled the scene. I wallowed in the realization that, out of all the people I could have gone to, I went to goddamn Rosenstern and Guildencrantz.

What was I thinking?

~ Meanwhile, Hamlet's PoV ~

"Phe, oh my God, I need to talk to you," I gushed into the phone. "Thanks. Yeah, give me like two minutes."

I put away my phone and power walked to Ophelia's dorm, where I unceremoniously collapsed on the floor as she sat across from me, interrogation-room-style.

"Right. Spill," she said as soon as I was settled.

"Horatio kissed me and I didn't kiss back so I ran and now he probably thinks I hate him."

Long pause.

"Help."

Ophelia took a deep breath while face palming.

"Why the fuck didn't you kiss back?"

I love my sweet, caring, gentle friend. She's an actual angel and could never make anyone feel bad ever.

"I..." Her hard stare made me gulp. "I-I got scared, Phe..."

She softened. "Of what? It's Horatio. He's literally incapable of hurting you."

"I know, I just- it all happened so fast, and the second our lips touched I though of my parents, and how bad they could hurt him for it, and I... I panicked."

I was probably tearing up, because Ophelia pulled me into an embrace that started as a hug and ended with me basically on her lap, crying into her shoulder.

She murmured calming things like "they're not here" and "they can't hurt you now" into my ear as I sobbed. Aside from Horatio, she was the best at calming my rampant emotional outbursts. She'd been doing it since Yorick died, and Horatio took over for her when I met him, but out of the three she had the most experience.

When my energy drained a bit and I could form coherent sentences again, a thought popped into my head.

"Phe, do you think... do you think he's doing okay?" I sniffled.

"Do you want my honest opinion or something to make you feel better?" She said after a beat.

"Happy medium?" I suggested meekly, which she took as honest opinion.

"He's probably really sad," she sighed. "Not gonna lie, he's fallen so hard for you, and I'm not sure how much you've told him about your initial coming out, so he could be anywhere from worried out of his mind for you to curled up in his room hoping it was all a horrible dream."

The first image wasn't too hard to picture, considering the ridiculous amount of "are you okay?" texts I get from him. The second, however, set off every single alarm and red flag my brain contained.

"I need to talk to him!"

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Ooh, do I see a part two in the making?

Not yet, but maybe when it's not 4:00 AM I will.

Just auditioned for Matilda, so that's nice. Absolutely nailed the cold reads. I think I've got a shot on this one.

Goodnight, faeries. May your tragic past stay out of your love life.