Kind of warning: I'm tired and there ends up being a Horatio x Hamlet ending. I have no idea why, it just happened. Please don't be mad, it's been a while since I revisited Hamlet. Also I just read a bunch of Lams stuff, so that probably isn't making my writing any straighter.

Later edit: yeah, I'm giving in. It's really just a Hamlet x Horatio. I don't have the slightest idea how or why, it just fits. I'm not even sure if I ship it. Shut up, I'm tired.
Around a year later: Hamratio forever. I'm so glad I wrote this.

One more thing: (WHY DO YOU ASSUME YOU'RE THE SMARTEST IN THE ROOM) I have this weird dislike for pet names, so don't expect to see an abundance of baby, babe, honey, love, sweetheart, etc. in my one shots. It hurt to type those.

2020 update: I LOVE PET NAMES AND HAVE A LONG LIST OF ABSOLUTELY LUDICROUS ONES

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

~ Hamlet's PoV ~

"What's that behind your ear? It's skin!" I laughed as my companion sighed.

"I'm a skull, Hamlet. I don't have skin. One: you're crazy. Two: you're probably drunk. Three: call Horatio." I pouted as Yorrick directed me. I pulled out my phone, typing in my best friend's number. Suddenly, my eyes lit up.

"But what if I didn't?" I asked excitedly. Yorrick gave me a look.

"Please just do it, Hamlet."

I pouted again. I clicked the call button, holding the phone to my ear and sticking my tongue out at the skull.

"Hiiiii Horse-tree-throw," I slurred. I heard a dissapointed sigh from the other end.

"Are you drunk?" Horse-tree-throw asked.

"Nooooooo..." I hummed. I could practically feel him shaking his head as I giggled.

"Alright, I'm coming to pick you up. Where are you?"

I scanned my surroundings, attempting to find an answer that would satisfy my friend.

"Oh! I'm next to the skull," I stated proudly. My smile faded as Horatio sighed.

"Where is the skull?" he asked.

"On the ground!"

"Okay, where on the ground?"

"Um... ooh! Right there!" I shouted, jumping up and down. He sighed again, clearly exasperated.

"Attempt number two. What street signs can you see?"

I spun around a few times, hunting for the thin green signs. "Cauldron street... there's Globe avenue..." (totally-random-not-at-all-Shakespeare-inspired street names)

"Okay. Stay where you are, I'm coming to get you."

A few minutes later, my best friend pulled up to the curb. He pushed open the door from the driver's seat, sighing at me for the third time that evening.

"Buckle up, we're going back to the dorm and you are going to bed. As much as I know you probably deserve the hangover you'll get, I can't leave you alone like this in good conscience."

I furrowed my brow in confusion at the phrases I would definitely understand if I was sober. I latched onto Horatio's arm and he accepted his fate, now steering with one hand.

~ Tem skip brought to you by Peaseblossom ~

I grinned and pressed my nose against the window as Horatio parked next to our dorm building. I unbucked my seatbelt and picked up Yorrick, carrying him in the crook of my elbow, which earned me an odd look from my human friend.

"Right, inside. The sooner I get you in bed, the better."

I gasped dramatically at his words.

"Horatio! If you have feelings for me you can just say so, no need for such extremes!"

He rolled his eyes. "You know that's not what I meant. I hope you remember this in the morning so you realize how dumb you sound."

I shook my head and giggled, grabbing his hand.

"I love you tooo!" I half-yelled. He looked away from me and blushed, but didn't try to get our hands apart.

"Shush, Hamlet. Not everyone is asleep at this hour, someone who's not completely drunk might hear you," he muttered. We began climbing the stairs up to our shared dorm, "climbing" being a rather loose term. It was more me being dragged/carried by Horatio until we reached our door.

"Look, Yorrick! This is your new home!" I squealed, holding the skull up so he could see the not-so-grand living room setup. I kicked off my shoes (because even when he's drunk off his ass he still wants to keep the floor clean) and skipped around the room until I was wrangled into my bedroom by my non-skull friend.

(Non-skull autocorrected to Non-Stop. I'm not obsessed with Hamilton what are you talking about)

"Thank you for bringing me hooome!" I said happily. I promptly pressed a kiss to Horatio's lips and flopped onto my bed, carefully placing Yorrick on the pillow next to me. I heard a flustered laugh from the doorframe and a "we'll talk about that in the morning" before I fell asleep.

~ Tem skip to the next morning-ish ~

I opened my eyes to see a skull five inches from my face. I jumped and let out a yelp of surprise, also managing to roll off my bed while doing so.

"Ow..." I mumbled. "Why are you here, then?" I (rhetorically) asked the skull. I whipped around at the sound of my door opening.

"You good?" Horatio asked.

"Yeah, I think so. Headache's murdering me, though. Feels like I was stabbed with a poisoned sword," I grumbled. Mornings were not my thing. Mornings with hangovers were even more not my thing.

"I'm not surprised. You were drunk enough to have named the skull. When I got you back to the dorm you held it up and said 'Look, Yorrick! This is your new home!' He's got a name now, and you've been asking about a pet. There it is."

I looked over at the skull, smiling slightly and moving it to my nightstand.

"You also said some other things..." he trailed off. I reached back in my memory, trying to figure out what I said that would cause Horatio, literally dubbed Mr. Stoneface by Osric, to be awkward about it.

"Was it Horse-tree-throw?" I asked, laughing a little. He shook his head.

"Hmm. Next to the skull, Cauldron and Globe, I got in the car, didn't say anything..." Horatio nodded along, still not looking at me. "Then you said you were getting me to bed, and I said- oh. Yeah. And then I... oh." I shuffled my feet on the carpet, now feeling equally as awkward. After a moment of this, Horatio broke the silence.

"Would it be weird if I said I didn't really mind it?" he asked casually. If I had a drink I would have spit it out.

"Wait, w-what? But you... I-I thought you-" I was cut off by the look he gave me. Stupid Horatio, being all matter-of-fact and to the point...

"Is what you said last night true?"

I blushed hard and refused to meet his eye. In the smallest voice I responded.

"Would it be weird if I said it is?" I said meekly. He grinned.

"Awesome. In that case, Hamlet, how would you like to be my boyfriend?"

I grinned back. "I always told myself I'd be the one to ask you, but yes."

He grabbed my hand, pulling me to the kitchen.

"The others are coming over later, by the way. Quite a few are going to be hungover. I got texts last night from Laertes, Rosencrantz, and Helena. Apparently Ophelia, Guildenstern, Hermia, Lysander, and Demetrius were all as drunk as you. The sober ones and I figured we should get everyone together so those with hangovers wouldn't have to wallow in self-pity alone," he explained. I hummed in response and gave his hand a final squeeze before grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl.

Horatio and I loitered on the couch until we heard a knock on the door. After some difficulty, we managed to get everyone either on the floor or a seat of some sort. Looking over the group, one could easily tell who had had too many drinks the night before.

Hermia and Lysander were wrapped tightly around each other, both with intense migraines. Demetrius was laying in Helena's lap, the latter petting his hair. Laertes had gone to get water and painkillers for Ophelia, and a grumpy Guildenstern was being poked by a much more lively Rosencrantz. Osric sat in the middle of it all, smiling smugly at the outcome of the party he hosted.

Laertes poked his head back into the room. "Hey, where's the headache stuff? Your medicine cabinet is all over the place," he called. Horatio got up to help him.

~ Horatio's PoV ~

I sent a small smile to Hamlet before getting up to help my friend navigate the medicine cabinet. As I scanned various bottles, Laertes struck up a conversation.

"Crazy party last night," he said. I hummed in response. "I wasn't watching the whole time, had to keep an eye on Phe, but I think Hamlet had at least eleven shots. Maybe more."

I looked at him in disbelief. "At least eleven? His limit is six," I said sternly, as if it was somehow Laertes' fault. He chuckled.

"To be fair, Guildenstern was doing the same, and his limit is much higher," he argued. I shook my head, laughing.

"Of course. Hamlet would never let anyone best him."

Laertes smirked at my words. A silence settled on us as we checked more bottles, which he broke a minute or so later.

"I've noticed you've been spending an unusual of time with him lately..." he mused.

"Yeah. What's it to you?" I snapped, suddenly growing defensive.

"Nothing. Just trying to make small talk. I really would like to know, though. And I know something's up because you snapped. You don't snap." Laertes turned to me with a triumphant glint in his eye, knowing full well that he'd won. I sighed, smiling in spite of myself.

"When he was drunk off his ass last night, he thought something I said meant something different than what any rational human would," I began. Laertes leaned in a little, listening intently.

"What was it that he misinterpreted?"

"Um... I said I was getting him to bed, and... well... I think you know what he thought." Seeming to find my earlier predicament amusing, he laughed. I shushed him.

"Anyway, he said - yelled rather loudly, actually - that he loved me tooooo!" I said, attempting and only half-failing at mimicking his voice. Laertes laughed again.

"I finally got him up to bed, and after being drunk and crazy for a while longer, he kissed me and promptly fell asleep." I couldn't help but let my lips curve into a smile as I finished my story. I looked up to see Laertes completely fangirling.

"ARE YOU DATING!?" he yelled. I shushed him again, picking up the headache medicine we were supposed to be searching for.

"Oh, would you look at that. Found it." I quickly left the room, Laertes trailing after me. I sat down next to Hamlet, grabbing his hand and intertwining our fingers.

"Hey," I hummed.

"Hey yourself," he hummed back, smiling softly and leaning his head on my shoulder.

"So you ARE dating!" Ophelia shrieked, much to the displeasure of the other hungover people in the room.

"What makes you think that?" Hamlet asked innocently, not moving his head from my shoulder.

"Well... you... you just- ugh! Laertes, your dear sister would really love some help!"

He shrugged. "Nah, I'm having fun watching this. You're on your own."

Ophelia huffed at her brother, turning back to me and my boyfriend. Rosencrantz, who was apparently frustrated with her inability to find reasons why Hamlet and I had chemistry, butted in.

"For starters, you always find ways to bring up each other in passing conversation. We'll be talking about a script in theater or something and Horatio'll go 'Oh, Hamlet would love this monologue!' and then proceed to cold-read this existential rant about how death is like sleep," he finished. Guildenstern, feeling significantly better than before, backed up his best friend.

"And the looks you give each other. One time Hamlet was raging about how Claudius doesn't deserve Gertrude and froze up when Horatio walked by. He watched him walk away like he wished he'd stay (time to get the yellow crhymescene tape). And even just when you make eye contact, it seems like no one else matters as much."

Everyone nodded vigorously in agreement, some (Lysermia) regretting it instantly as the migraine kicked back in.

I looked at Hamlet, communicating a 'do they get to know' look. He nodded ever so slightly and then smirked, leaning his forehead against mine so our noses were just barely brushing.

"It seems they've figured us out," he joked, myself following suit.

"Oh no. What ever shall we do?" I said, mirroring his tone. We both snickered as our friends reacted.

Ophelia stage-whispered "yessssssss" and threw both fists in the air, slowly falling over backwards. Both Lysander and Hermia let out long squeals, completely disregarding the pain. Demetrius yelled something along the lines of "it's about damn time," and Laertes fangirled slightly harder than before. The only person who had a remotely chill reaction was Helena, who grinned and congratulated us.

We looked to Osric, who just stared at us with a Cheshire Cat smile slowly creeping onto his face. "I knew that party was a good idea."

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

So... that happened. Has your brain ever been so drunk on fanfic that it decides to write a relationship between several-hundred-year-old characters who were created when you could be executed for being gay? Hahahahaha I'm so freaking glad those days are gone. Love is love (internally: WHAT IS LOVE, BABY DON'T HURT ME), even if Shakespeare himself says otherwise. I'm not sure if he ever did, actually...

2020 update: Billy Shakes was very bi and we stan

Fare thee well, my little faeries. May your future not be plagued with a Hamlet-like body count.