Shakespeare one shots

The one where Hamlet needs hugs but refuses them (like an idiot)

Let's talk about touch starvation, yeah?

It fucking sucks.

Anyone who is physically affectionate knows That One Person who isn't big on friendly touch, and that's fine, because you learn how they express affection and you respect their boundaries. Well, 90% of my friends are like that. Every time we're in a show and our characters require physical contact, I savor that moment as long as possible. (Props to Bob for having me sit on Isaac's lap for a whole act, it was totally worth all the Jisaac whispers.)

ThE pOiNt iS that this is an actual thing, and yes, it is this strong. I've mentioned it in previous one shots but I've never properly addressed it.

TW for past abuse, but nothing terribly explicit. Itty bitty TW for dysphoria because trans!Ham all the way.

Also content warning for smut. I finally got around to writing it! Tell me if it's shit, yeah?

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Horatio knew that royalty tended to be high-maintenance, but Jesus Christ, he could never have fathomed actually gaining the priviledge of dealing with it.

His sleep schedule was in shambles, carefully taken apart by a prince that had a habit of picking his lock to wake him about some book or another. His meticulously organized living space, an oasis of equilibrium among the chaos that was his life, looked like a tornado had swept through it before the prince finally went on his merry way. Horatio always spent a good hour fixing the mess, smiling through the tingle of anxiety all the while.

Despite the prince's innate ability to leave traces of himself everywhere he went (Horatio had a small fortune's worth of 'forgotten' money - subtle), he was very tactful in one manner. Well, aside from his picky eating habits, difficult-to-please taste in literature, and sense of disdain for all but the best actors.

He never touched anyone.

Horatio didn't have the context to figure it out before they started talking. The snobbish student with sycophant followers flanking him at all times wasn't an uncommon sight, and when the prince recoiled from any hands that dared to reach out for a shake, Horatio assumed it was out of the holier-than-thou attidute that his previous experiences with Wittenberg's rich kid population had proven likely.

But no. As the scholar discovered, Hamlet actually just deeply disliked being touched. Fair enough. An unexpected pat on the shoulder from a stranger was never something Horatio enjoyed, either.

Baffling, though, was how Hamlet avoided any and every form of physical contact. Horatio observed as the prince (subconsciously, he guessed) recoiled from a large gesture of his hand, how he established a certain distance between himself and the other when sitting side by side, and downright dodged attempted hugs.

So Horatio was a physical man, sue him. There's only so long the oldest of five siblings is able to maintain personal space. His sisters had no regard for it; had probably never heard the term. He blamed them entirely for the way he couldn't seem to express affection without touch. He wasn't sure if he ever could.

Thus, it was naturally very irritating to him when the object of his affection completely avoided allowing him to show it. Thus, it was reasonably hard on Horatio's poor feelings when that irritation bloomed into pain. Thus, he'd keep trying.

Horatio sat down next to Hamlet on the couch in the former's dorm. The latter scooted away further.

Ouch.

"How was biochem?"

Horatio swallowed. "It was fine."

Hamlet, the arrogant prick he was, didn't notice the slight waver in his friend's voice because his attention was lasered in on the book in his hands. "That's good. Hey, you know that dog whistle the English prof put into the lecture yesterday during his Apollo rant?"