Work Text:
the soft tap-tap of todd's pencil against the splintered wood of his desk echoes throughout the small room he shared with one, neil perry.
neil.
todd was always hyper-aware of his roommate’s presence. though he’d tried to ignore it, neil, unbeknownst to himself, always managed to catch todd's attention; whether it was the way the pages of his textbooks crinkled beneath his fingers or how he always smelled of fresh bergamot and sage, one simply could not ignore neil even if his own life depended on it.
neil was beautiful. in fact, until meeting neil, todd never even thought it possible to call a man beautiful. but there he was, with his soft, walnut eyes and winsome smile. todd would trace the outline of neil's face as he slept, admiring the sharpness of his jaw or the gentle slope of his nose. he'd count neil's breaths, until he, too, fell into a deep, peaceful slumber. even after his eyes had closed, neil plagued his dreams, professing his love to todd in spectacles of grandiose sonnets and speeches.
todd wasn't quite sure as to why he loved neil so much. then again, could anyone ever accurately determine or justify why they loved someone? perhaps it was the way he made every and anything interesting. it was a talent only he and mr. keating possessed. he always kept todd at the edge of his seat, no matter what the conversation was about. the way he spoke with such passion, such vigor and emotion, moved todd in a way that no one ever had before. to him, neil turned ordinary words into the world’s most intricate symphonies, filling him with an eternal, incandescent happiness.
“todd,” neil says now, snapping him out of his thoughts.
”yes?” todd replies, quietly, as if he hadn’t meant to answer in the first place.
he hears neil stand up, his shoulders tensing as the older boy kneels beside his desk.
“may i read to you?”
todd, albeit a bit thrown off, nods, turning to face neil fully. he can’t help but smile when he sees that neil has his glasses on. todd always thought he looked more mature with them on — more proper. he loved it.
neil offers him a small, playful smile that sends an army of butterflies fluttering around todd's stomach.
he clears his throat:
‘a glimpse through an interstice caught,
of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night, and i unremark’d seated in a corner,
of a youth who loves me and whom i love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand,
a long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest,
there we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.’
he finishes with a satisfied sigh, looking at todd expectantly.
it doesn’t take long for todd to return his companion’s gaze, letting out a shy, huff of a laugh.
”whitman,” he smiles. “that's walt whitman.”
neil nods enthusiastically, giving his friend a firm pat on his shoulder. “correct, mr. anderson. now, what do you think this poem is about?”
”well, it’s about two people in a bar.”
neil frowns, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “come on, todd, dig deeper than that.”
“neil, i ... it's — well, it’s about ...” todd turns his attention to his shoes now. “two people in a bar, and they’re in love.”
”and?” neil grins, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “go on.”
todd can feel neil's eyes burning holes into the top of his head as he continues to speak. “they don’t care about the people around them. they only care for each other, so ... so much so, that nothing else seems to matter.”
neil leans forward then, burying the tip of his nose into the soft fabric of todd's navy blue jumper.
the sudden contact startles todd, causing his heart to thump manically in his chest. he doesn’t question neil's actions, though. he just sits there, tense as ever, waiting for neil to give him some form of direction.
”please, continue,” neil whispers, tickling the nape of todd's neck with each word.
todd, struggling to breathe properly, does as he is told. “it — it’s only them in that moment, you know? it's their moment. it's a glimpse of, um ... a glimpse of their future together.”
neil shifts slightly before finding one of todd's hands with his own, interweaving their fingers with a contented sigh.
todd swallows, very aware of the way neil runs the pad of his thumb up and down the back of his hand.
”a glimpse of forever.” neil adds, peppering a line of love from todd's shoulder up to the curve of his jaw, sending a series of chills crawling down the younger’s back.
“forever, todd anderson.” he urges, giving todd's hand a gentle squeeze. “in our own little world, just us. where we’re the only ones that matter.”
larkspur blue eyes meet leather book brown in a chorus of unspoken forevers, unspoken i love you’s and longing and need. todd wants to cry. or scream, or dance, or sing, or —
he feels neil's lips press against his own in a slow, honey-sweet kiss. a kiss that makes him melt from the inside out, causes tears to well in his eyes and roll lazily down his rose-dusted cheeks as they flutter shut. he uses his free hand to cup the side of neil's face, pulling him impossibly closer until the smell of bergamot and sage he’d grown so fond of floods his senses.
“forever, neil perry. in our own little world.”