Antonio woke up with a splitting headache. He squinted around his room, his eyes trying to adjust to the bright sunlight as he tried to regain his bearings. What was the last thing he was doing? A startled gasp broke the silence as the Venetian merchant started shaking – he was drinking on the roof when an apparition appeared that looked like Bassanio and like a fool he had poured his heart out to his imagination in a drunken stupor. But how did he get to his room? Was someone really there?

Appalled, Antonio sat up on the bed, throwing the covers aside. He could not help but groan at the sudden pain that flared up his waist and back. With wide eyes, he noticed he was stark naked, and his usually pale skin was marred with fresh handprints and love bites. Antonio tarted hyperventilating. Oh Lord! What had he done! He should not have drunk like a swan, he should have listened to Salarino. But everything was over – the person he had slept with would tell this to the whole of Venice and gradually the news would reach Bassanio too. And he would hate his for being such a sinner.

Antonio broke down, desolate sibs ripping him apart. All of a sudden, the door to his bedchamber opened, and entered Bassanio, a tray of food in hand. The young man kept the breakfast on the nightstand and rushed to his friend. Antonio felt himself engulfed in a hug. "Come on, breathe for me. Follow my breaths." He felt himself calm down – the calloused fingers rubbing his back, the deep voice, the warmth and the honey and lavender scent that so distinctly belonged to Bassanio smoothing out his worries.

He did not dare to look into the eyes of his best kinsman – afeard of the emotions he would find and kept his head bowed low. Bassanio wrapped the covers around him to hide his nudity and cupped his face into his palms, drawing little patterns on his cheekbones with his thumbs. "Look at me, Antonio. Please." And the merchant cursed himself for being so soft hearted. When had he been able to deny Bassanio anything? Hesitant green eyes met the hazel orbs. Bassanio flashed him the little smile he only gave to Antonio, to soothe the man and began, "I am so sorry, my dear Antonio." The bright green of Antonio's eyes dimmed a bit as he continued, "But I can no longer be your best kinsman anymore."

Antonio could not stop the tears accumulating in his eyes from breaking past the dam of his eyelids. This was it. He had lost him forever. Bassanio hurried to wipe away the crystal-clear beads of water. A dark part of his brain noted that Antonio looked pretty when he cried, but now wasn't the time for it. He needed to clear the mess he had made. Taking a deep breath, Bassanio continued, "I do not mean it like that, Antonio. Hell, I cannot even imagine a life without you."

Antonio bit through his lips in confusion, tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. Bassanio's silence forced him to ask, "But what did you mean that you cannot be my friend anymore?" Both men gravitated towards each other and Bassanio rested their foreheads together. Antonio's breath tickled his lips, and the last shred of caution fled his mind. "I cannot be 'just a friend' anymore, Antonio. My feelings for you run much deeper than friendship alone."

Bassanio took in Antonio's countenance – the bright green eyes were tinged with excitement, hope and love, his long eyelashes still had remnants of tears clinging to them, a faint blush colored his freckled nose and cheeks to the tips of his ears, and he was trying to hold in a shy smile. Bassanio's brain went haywire as he felt the throbbing under the huge hickey, he had given him the previous night at the junction of his neck and shoulders. With the sunrays heightening his features, Antonio looked like a mortal angel and Bassanio drank in his beauty like a famished man.

"Stop me if I overstep any boundaries," he breathed before capturing Antonio's lips in a gentle kiss, and if the merchant did not make it to the exchange that day, he had no one to blame. They were just two halves of a whole – joined after an eternity in separation, brought together by Fate, Portia and most importantly – LOVE.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This was seriously fucked up. And I am going to show it to a teacher. Fuck! But I love the dark naughty Bassanio 😳😅

Well, I did and he loved it, but I ended up traumatising quite a few of my classmates. Their reactions were worth it, though.

The next and last chapter has been written, yet to be typed but will be out soon.