Work Text:
Note: Todd Anderson does not like death very much.
“Why do we have to do a Shakespeare unit?” Todd Anderson groans loudly as he walks into his dorm room. He tosses his book bag onto his bed and slumps into the seat at his desk. “I mean, wha-wha-what’s reading a four-hundred year old play supposed to help us with?”
“What’s reading English plays in English class going to help us with, you mean?” Neil Perry, his roommate, laughs. “Todd, you’ve asked that twelve times just on the walk here.” He lies down on his bed, which creaks under his weight. His hands place themselves under his head, supporting Neil as he lets out a content sigh.
Todd rolls his eyes, “oh, shut up…” He sets his head down on the desk and closes his eyes, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment as he gathers his thoughts. Once calmed, Todd lifts his head and looks in Neil’s direction. “I...I’ve never even read the play and-”
Neil interrupts him, “but you know the story.”
“Kind of.” Todd practically whimpers, “but standing in front of everyone and reciting...reciting…” afraid he’ll stutter if he says more, Todd’s voice fades out.
Neil completes the sentence for him. “ Romeo and Juliet ?”
“ Romeo and Juliet ,” Todd repeats him. “It’s not exactly my thing.
“So?” Neil sits up, “the worst thing that could happen is, what, you mess up a line? Nothing wrong with that.”
“That’s, That’s exactly what I’m nervous about, Neil!” Todd throws his head back, running a hand over his face like there’s an itch under his skin that he can’t scratch. “I know I’m going to mess up a word and Keating has me reading for Romeo of all characters!”
He doesn’t understand it, why Keating wants him to read for Romeo. There were plenty of other characters that he was willing to suffer through, smaller ones like Samson or even Tybalt. Todd had risen his hand to volunteer for one of them, but Keating proudly said-
“Ah, Mr. Anderson, our first volunteer! You would be perfect for our leading man, the romantic Romeo Montague.”
And, like many of the other students when given a role, he didn’t know, or want, to argue about it. But he didn’t want to read for Romeo, either. Really, Todd stubbornly held onto his belief that it should be Neil reading for him, considering he’s the one who wants to be an actor.
And, God, Todd envies Neil for that, how he’s never feared standing in front of others and speaking. Neil had happily volunteered right after Todd had for a role. Keating had given him a smaller one, explaining “since we’ve seen Neil act outside of the classroom, we will give him the opportunity to see the rest of you act in the classroom.”
To Todd, that was an idiotic decision but, again, he wasn’t one to argue.
“Don’t be nervous,” Neil says it like it’s easy because, for him, it is. “You got the best character. I, on the other hand, get to read for pretentious ol’ Paris.”
“It’s a lot less lines than I have…”
“I’d like more. With a more interesting character.”
“Wanna trade places with Meeks?”
“Ah, the lovely Juliet.” Both Todd and Neil laugh at that.
After Neil and Todd, no one else had raised their hand so Keating called on Steven Meeks. Meeks was caught so off-guard he squeaked and Keating became convinced that his femininity and youthfulness would be perfect for Juliet. Meeks turned redder than was probably humanly possible and Todd wanted to feel bad for him, but he was too busy pitying himself.
“ Thank you for being volun-told, Mr. Meeks. Now, would anyone like to volunteer for a role before you are also volun-told?”
Once their laughter dies down, Todd reaches for his bag, digging through it until he finds his copy of Romeo and Juliet. Every class member had been given the same book, but Todd felt like his was a lot bigger. It obviously wasn’t but it sure felt like it. He stares at his hands, fingers wrapped tightly around the book.
“I’ll do it,” Todd says, “as long as, when I do mess up because I will, no one makes fun of me.”
“Hey.” Neil’s posture straightens when he hears this. “You know that’s not gonna happen. Keating wouldn’t let it happen.” The very thought of Todd being made fun of always filled Neil with a silent anger. “Sure, the class is filled with a bunch of asses, but everyone likes you too much to make fun of you, and you know it.”
Which was true and, even if it wasn’t, Neil was, without question, liked enough by the others that no one would dare mess with someone Neil spoke so highly of like Todd. Really, Steven Meeks had more to worry about. And the poor bastard who had to read for Nurse, Knox Overstreet.
“Okay, sure,” Todd says. “I still think it could have been you and not...me.” Todd gestures widely to himself.
“But it’s not me,” Neil reminds him. He wants to roll his eyes but decides not to, averting them instead. “It’s you and you, Todd Anderson, are going to do great. Okay?”
Neil’s always been overly supportive of Todd reading aloud in class, ever since the Walt Whitman incident, as Todd called it, where Keating had him spinning and saying the first thing that came to his mind. He wished he was doing that now, as it seemed a lot more tame compared to reading an entire play.
“Okay.” Todd doesn’t mean to yelp. He scratches his nose and there’s a part of him that wants to spread his hand out wide and hide his face with it. “Thanks, Neil.”
“If you have any questions about the play, just ask me.” Todd knows there’s a silent ‘if you’re too afraid to ask Keating’ somewhere in there.
“I will.”
--
Later that evening, the two boys are sitting on their respectives sides of their room, studying. Neil sits hunched over his desk, trying to work out the calculus problems assigned as homework earlier that day. Todd, who hasn’t even begun to think about the homework, quietly mumbles out the lines of Romeo Montague to himself.
He’s going over the scene where Romeo and Juliet meet for the first time at the party. A heavy blush spreads across Todd’s cheeks because Romeo and Juliet met moments ago and they’re kissing. They kiss multiple times after sharing the lines of a cheesy sonnet that, for some reason, has the butterflies moving around in Todd’s stomach.
Todd has to shut the book so the words will go away and he can slow his breathing. He looks over at Neil who, at some point, took a break from mathematics to sprawl out comfortably on his mattress. Todd wants to say something but he can’t because disturbing the tranquil peaceful look on Neil’s face feels disrespectful.
Neil’s glasses balance themselves on the tip of his nose and he carefully pushes them back up with his middle finger. It’s graceful, but Todd can’t understand why he thinks so. His father has glasses and he doesn’t look graceful when he pushes them up.
‘Well,’ Todd thinks, ‘it’s not graceful because its your father and Neil is-’
Unattainable. The word, like a neon sign, flashes warning signs in his brain and he wants nothing more than to pull the plug. It’s a burden, Todd thinks, having thoughts that you don’t want to think but think up anyways.
Still, the word, even with Todd’s malice towards it, always felt like truth. When it wasn’t a sign in his head, it was a boogeyman that clawed at Todd’s arm during every conversation he had with Neil. When it wasn’t that, it was the knowing, envious glances Neil would share with Knox whenever Chris joined their outings.
Neil wasn’t going to happen for him.
Todd opens his book and tries to go back to reading the play, he really does. But, Neil starts humming the tune of a song he can’t recognize and, obviously, the humming is coming from his lip and lips are what people like Romeo and Juliet use for kissing and, however fleetingly, the question passes through Todd’s mind:
Has Neil ever kissed anyone?
“Hey...Neil?”
“Hm?” Neil’s eyes stay closed but he tilts his head like he’s looking right through Todd. “Sorry, am I being too loud?”
“No!” Todd’s voice comes out much louder than he intends it to. He quiets. “No, it's…”
“What?” His eyes are open now and there’s the sound of worry dripping from his tongue. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing! I was, I just, I was reading and, I just,” he can’t control the speed of which his words spill and there's a tightness in his throat that he’s sure makes him sound scared, childish even. Todd forces himself to pause and press a hand to his heart. He listens to it and does not try speaking again until the beats feel more syncopated. “You said that I could ask you questions about the play...if I had any.”
Neil has sat up by now. He has a hand placed on his own heart, mimicking Todd’s posture. Todd can’t help that the corner of his mouth twitches into a gentle smile at that, like Neil can understand him in a way no one else can plainly because he’s willing to look just like him.
“Yes, I did say that,” Neil smiles, too. “What’s the question?” His hand falls to his side and, with innocent curiosity, Neil leans forward as if it’ll help him hear Todd better in the five feet between their beds.
Todd can hope the redness is gone, but the heat on his face tells him otherwise. It worsens when he realizes that he can’t outright ask Neil if he’s ever kissed anyone, because that isn’t what Romeo and Juliet is about. He settles on the second silliest question he could ask.
“Did you know that Romeo and Juliet kiss in this play?”
Somehow, Neil doesn’t laugh at him. “Yes. I know.”
Todd huffs like Neil didn’t hear him correctly and answered him in the most sinister way possible, like he said “yes, I know. People kiss, Todd. People like me. I kiss people all the time.”
“They kiss , Neil.” Todd spits the words out, stressing the syllables. He swings his legs around and firmly presses his feet into the floor, ready to stand at a moment's notice. “They kiss! Right when they meet and everything.”
Todd would never kiss someone he just met. At least, he doesn’t believe he would.
Neil dips his head and Todd is grateful he does, because at least he can pretend he doesn’t see the growing amusement growing on Neil’s face. “Geez, Todd, I know you haven’t read the play before, but it is a romance. People gotta kiss in romances.”
“I know, but-”
“Oh, I get it.” Neil looks up, not even attempting to hide his smile now.
“You...get it?” Todd highly doubts that.
“You’re afraid Keating’ll make you kiss Meeks, aren’t ya!” His eyes widen in glee and he laughs out loud, eyes flicking towards the door like he wants to tell anyone who will listen. He won’t and Todd knows that, he does, but he’s so full of defense that he stands up, ready to stop Neil if he runs for it.
“I am not!”
“You are!”
“Neil!”
“You are, aren’t you! Todd-”
“Have-you-ever-kissed-anyone?”
The words come out fast, almost unintelligible. Todd tries to cover his mouth to stop it, but it’s too late. He could beg to whoever’s listening that Neil didn’t hear him but if there’s one thing that Neil Perry is an expert in, it’s understanding the speedy babble of Todd Anderson.
“Have I…” Neil slows the question down, “have I ever kissed anyone?”
“Yeah...Yeah.” Todd nods and falls back onto his bed. He pulls his legs up towards his chest and hugs his knees. It’s a pitiful position, one that even Todd is aware makes him look terrified. Neil isn’t much help because he doesn’t say anything else for what feels like hours, even if maybe thirty seconds have passed. The silence makes Todd's stomach turn and he feels queasy.
Neil finally answers. “Yeah. A few people.”
Todd isn’t prepared for the recognizable feeling that bubbles up from his gut; jealousy. Usually when he feels this way he can push it down and pretend it isn’t there. It’s a lot harder though, Todd thinks, when the jealousy isn’t a result of your parents talking about how great your brother is or how much smarter your peers are.
What would you call this, romantic jealousy? Is that why it hurts so much more?
Then Neil asks him, “have you?
It would have been so easy to lie, answer with a quick “yes” and move on. But that isn’t what Todd says.
“No. I haven’t.” He lets go of his legs and straightens them out. Not wanting to look at Neil, Todd acts like the book in his hands has once again peaked his interest. He flips through the pages and, for a second, believes that Neil has either gone back to his resting position or has turned to his own work as well.
He has not.
“Really?” Neil muses, “why not?”
“I don’t know,” Todd answers honestly.
“Hm.” Neil nods like he’s taking in a serious answer and it hasn’t phased him at all. “Do you want to?”
The words leave Todd slack-jawed, mouth hanging wide open. He raises his head and, breathless and sure, Todd responds, “Do I want to?”
“Kiss someone!” Neil shouts. Despite looking right at him, Todd cannot read the look on Neil’s face. This smile has left him and replaced itself with a gaze that;s more curious, daring.
“I haven’t. I, I, I haven’t-”
“I know you haven’t.” Neil chuckles and there’s a voice in the back of Todd’s mind that wants him to be offended but he ignores it. “I asked if you wanted to.”
Todd blinks and takes much too long to think about his answer because it sounds like an offer but he won’t ask if it is. The way Neil might laugh in his face would be enough to send Todd into hiding in the familiarity of his own bed for the next decade. There are people Todd wants to kiss, he supposes, but he can’t seem to think of anyone at the moment.
Except Neil, of course. If Todd lived in a dream world, he might think he should say something like “I want to kiss you, Neil” or, maybe if he was even braver, “kiss me, Neil.” He doesn’t, though. He isn’t ready to say that.
“I don’t know,” is what he says.
“Oh. Okay,” is all Neil can respond with.
A second ago, all this was a (sort of) genuine question about text and had easily evolved into teasing questioning. Now, an awkward silence hits and Todd cannot blame Neil for it. He hadn’t given Neil the best words to respond to in the first place so he’s lucky that Neil said anything else at all.
But the air between them shouldn’t be as heavy as it is.
Todd breaks their eye contact first. The quiet has become too much for him to bear, but he doesn’t want to say anything more either. He opens up his book and acts like he’s reading his lines and definitely not thinking of literally any other way he could have continued their conversation.
When Todd lifts his eyes to look at Neil, he sees that Neil hasn’t moved at all. This shocks Todd more than anything, as Neil is the type to constantly be moving and now, not even his foot is absentmindedly tapping.
Neil is thinking. Todd can tell there’s something he wants to say, something on the tip of his tongue begging to jump and become spoken word. Todd can tell Neil is unsure if he can say it because he grits his teeth and moves his jaw around like he’s tasting the inquiry.
Ultimately, Neil swallows it down.
Todd goes to bed wondering if there were people he should have kissed when he knew nothing more than their name.
---
The rest of the night passes and turns into day. Todd and Neil wake up. They brush their teeth, they dress, and it's like their conversation from before didn’t end awkwardly, or happen at all.
Todd survives English class with John Keating. He’s thankful to Charlie Dalton for that, as he read for Mercutio with so much excitement, Todd could effortlessly laugh and calm the tension that showed itself as a vein that popped against the skin of his throat.
However, Todd’s nervousness does come back when Keating announces that the next day the class would read all the way through to the balcony scene.
‘You know, THE balcony scene, Neil,” he says, “the big romantic one.”
That’s how Todd knows the scene, always being told that it was one of Shakespeare’s most idealized and amorous pieces of writing. But Todd can’t really understand how two teenagers (with a questionable age difference) shouting at each other can be romantic.
“They have to be shouting at each other,” Todd goes on telling Neil, “if one is on the ground and one is on a balcony, they have to be shouting to hear each other.”
In short, the whole scene seems more silly than anything and yeah, Todd can understand the desperate tone the writing holds, but the desperation does not seem plausible. Not if he’s meant to take it seriously, anyway.
Similar to the night before, Todd steals glimpses up at Neil as he skims through the script. Neil, again, is sitting at his desk. Every once in a while he’ll groan and drop his pencil, shaking his hand to ease some of the growing pain that tirelessly solving equations and writing down latin conjugations can cause.
Todd interrupts him the fourth time he does this.
“Neil?”
“Yes, Todd?” Neil spins to face him which, for some reason, surprises Todd.
He blushes. “Can...Can I ask you something?”
“About Romeo and Juliet?” Todd was sure he would be able to hear the smirk in Neil’s voice if he wasn’t seeing the one on his face now.
“Yes.”
“Shoot.”
“Why...why does…” Todd bites the inside of his cheek. “I don’t understand the balcony scene.”
“That isn’t a question.” Neil points this out. He sits with his legs spread slightly apart and an arm balanced over the top rail of the chair. It’s so relaxed, so unprofessional, Todd imagines a teacher could expel him if he was to sit like that in class.
“Neil…” Todd scrunches up his nose, his bottom lip jutting out. “C’mon-”
“Okay, okay,” Neil adjusts his posture so he may hold up his hands in defense. “What don’t ya understand about it? There a word you don’t know?”
“No.” Todd takes a breath, casting his eyes back on the text. His finger is placed on the line where Juliet asks “By whose direction found’st thou out this place?” and Romeo, ever hopeless, ever the romantic, responds with “ by love.”
By love.
He can’t tell if what Romeo says is supposed to be a metaphor or if he fully believes in love being how he found Juliet or if he’s lying to himself and her and, God, Todd can’t help but thinks it’s the most foolish thing in the world.
“Am I supposed to think the balcony scene is romantic?”
“Is it not?”
“Romantic?” Todd’s voice cracks on the last syllable, which causes his blush to darken. “I, uh, I don’t think so, these lines…I, uh…” He doesn’t know where he’s going with this and, like it’ll shut his mouth for him, he closes his book and gently hits it against his forehead. It’s a win-win situation for Todd; Neil doesn’t have to hear him try to speak and Todd can hide his face until his face becomes it’s normal shade again.
Neil doesn’t allow Todd to hide for long. “What about the lines?”
When Todd lowers the book he’s met with the raised eyebrow of Neil, who has scooted his chair closer to Todd’s bed. He speaks softly, encouraging Todd to keep going.
“They’re...okay, they’re kind of romantic, I guess,” Todd forces out a small chuckle. “But the way they talk to each other is...well, it’s not stupid, but it is stupid if I’m supposed to think this is a sweet scene because they talk so funny, and that can’t be romantic.”
“Can’t be romantic!” Neil falls back in his seat, arms and legs extended apart like Todd had just shot him with his words. “Todd, has Keating taught you nothing!”
Todd, like he’s actually shot Neil and has understood the consequences, pushes himself against his wall. His book drops onto his sheets. “He’s taught me things!”
“I couldn’t tell!” Neil says, moving his chair and closing some of the distance between him and Todd. He grabs the fallen book and opens it back up to the balcony scene. He hands the book back to Todd, who takes it carefully in his hands. “Think of the scene like this: if thou remember’st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not loved.”
Keating had said that when he announced that they would be reading Romeo and Juliet. It wasn’t unlike Neil to repeat him, but it was sort of useless considering Todd didn’t know what the line even meant. That was something else Neil had over Todd- he could remember everything Keating said because he had a freakish memory. As for the line, Todd had assumed that it was somewhere in this play and he just hadn’t reached it yet.
“I haven’t gotten to that line yet.” Todd realizes then that he’s been holding his breath.
“You won’t. It’s not in there, it’s from another Shakespeare. As You Like It .”
“Then why...then why did Keating say it if it’s not from the play we’re reading?”
“It’s a good quote,” Neil starts. He closes the book and sets it back on Todd’s bed. “And it answers your question.”
“It does!”
Todd still does not get it and, at this point, he sort of wishes he didn’t say anything at all. He’s more confused now than he was before he asked his question.
Neil, understanding that he isn’t at all being clear, runs a hand through his hair. “It’s like, what the quote says, if you don’t remember anything stupid love has made you do, you’ve never loved.”
“And?”
“AND Romeo and Juliet shouting at each other where someone could hear might just be that stupid thing love makes them do! It is!” His voice echoes against the walls of the room. “And it is silly. It’s very funny. But it’s romantic, Todd, because love made them do it and it’s big, it’s grand.” Neil, so desperate to explain, speaks in a fierce way. Todd can’t stop looking at his mouth. “Get it?”
Todd nods because he does.
“Yeah?” Neil’s pleased. “You get it then, being funny and in love?”
In love.
Todd is about to nod again, his chin rising, but he stops himself. Instead, he thinks back on his memories, what funny things he's done for people he cared about, loved, even. But there’s a reminder in the back of his head that tells him doing things for people you care about is different from the silly things you do for the ones you love.
Like, he’s placed his feet on chairs to “save a spot” for friends at lunch like Charlie or Knox or Gerard. And Todd can admit that shouting poetry in a cave with your friends is very much a silly thing that he does with so much fervency because he cares about them, his friends.
And, yes, that’s a form of love, isn’t it? That platonic thing?
But Neil said in love. Funny and in love, not funny and friendly. And, like his own brain has decided to taunt him, Todd is struck with the memory of Neil throwing that desk set his parents got him. He looks back on the time Neil ran around his room, reading aloud that poem Todd could never get the words quite right to.
The biggest memory though, that seems to linger before it fades away, is every time Neil asked Todd to practice lines with him for A Midsummer Night's Dream. How the two of them would put on voices for each character, accents that would never work in any production. They would laugh and laugh for hours on end until the sun began to peek through the window and shame them like a mother who finds her children awake past their bedtime and fondly shakes her head.
Those times were very funny. Incredibly funny, silly, humorous, comical, whatever you want to call it. And Todd was-
He was what? Oh, God.
Neil must notice because he asks “you alright?”
And Todd hates that he does ask because he wants to say no, but that will start something he doesn’t think can be finished. Admitting he needs anything but the answer to a question from Neil will start something that can’t be finished.
So Todd, his volume barely above silent, says “Maybe I should finish the play.” He says this half because he should. The other half, the scary half, is because he doesn’t want to tell Neil that he does understand being in love, what that entails.
“Maybe.” Neil agrees. By the time Todd has the courage to look at him again, Neil is tucked into bed. His chair is empty, back to its normal position and under his desk.
He isn’t asleep but he says nothing else.
--
The following evening comes and Todd is alone in his room. Neil left to study with Charlie and Meeks. For the first time, Todd is grateful that Neil has left him alone for the night. There are two reasons for this:
One: Todd messed up every line in the balcony scene that day so he can’t look Neil in the eyes. If he looks Neil in the eyes he’ll surely say something like “I messed up because I can’t stop thinking about how I’m probably in love with you.”
Two: If he’s alone, no one can see him cry at the final pages in Romeo and Juliet.
He shouldn’t be crying. Todd knew they died in the end, everyone knows that. But he didn’t know that Romeo would say “thus I die with a kiss.” And he didn’t know that Juliet would say “I will kiss thy lips...thy lips are warm.” They kiss in their final moments, Romeo and Juliet kiss. But they die anyway.
They die because they’re stupid and Romeo didn’t wait five more seconds for Juliet to wake up. It’s very much unfair and now Todd is crying because of it.
He closes the book, fully agreeing that, yeah, this tale is definitely filled with woe and more than he expected to be affected by. Now more than ever, Todd wants to wipe away his tears and go to sleep. He attempts to do exactly that but the attempt proves unsuccessful after about half an hour of tossing and turning. There’s too many questions to ask to want to sleep now.
He sits up with an upset groan, rubbing at his temples with his fingers like it’ll massage the questions out. After two nights of going to bed feeling a little too vulnerable for his taste, Todd isn’t sure he should be asking Neil anymore questions.
He’s about to try sleeping again when his bedroom door flies open without so much as a warning. Todd yelps and tugs up his bedsheets to his chin.
“Sorry, Todd!” Neil whispers, slipping in and shutting the door. “Hope I didn’t wake you.” His glasses, like they were two nights ago, have slipped to the tip of his nose. He pushes them up.
‘Damn it,’ Todd thinks.
“You didn’t,” Todd's voice betrays him, as it was obvious in the way that his voice came out scratchy that he had been crying.
Neil takes notice and his demeanor changes. He tilts his head in worry and asks, “you okay?”
Todd, apparently a liar, nods. “Yeah, I’m good, just, just…” he grabs his book and holds it up for Neil to see. “I finished.”
“Oh!” Neil perks up, understanding. He travels to his bed and sits. Like an excitable child, Neil criss-crosses his legs and sets his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. “What did you think?”
Todd sits up, too. “I guess it was good...And-”
“And the ending?”
The question strikes a chord with Todd. He shrugs, “It was okay.”
If Neil doesn’t like the answer, he doesn’t show it. The supportive smile on his face stays there, his head bobbing up and down. “Just okay, huh?”
“Yeah…”
All of the questions Todd wants to ask threaten to spill out of his mouth all at once. The script rolls through his mind and he’s remembering all of them, like they were notes he wrote to himself in the margins. Because he can’t bear to let the room go silent like it had in the past evenings, Todd speaks.
“Neil?”
Neil’s name, the first of many questions. Todd asks for his permission to say more and Neil gives it to him. He gives it to him not with his words, but with a curious glint in his eyes. It’s then that Todd wonders if you have to read poetry or if it can be seen in someone’s eyes. If that’s so, Todd can see it, the begging, romantic verse in Neil’s eyes.
“They die at the end, you know.”
“I did know that,” Neil says, his smile turning into the teasing one he shared when Todd asked if he knew that the two young lovers kissed when they met. “I thought you knew the story?”
“I kind of did,” Todd reminds him. He takes a breath, slowly letting it out. “I didn’t know what they would say when they were dying, though.”
“Did you want to talk about it?” Neil asks and, when Todd shrugs, he uncrosses his legs and taps his hand against the empty space on his bed. Todd stands up all too quickly and hopes as he takes the spot that Neil cannot tell how glad he is that Neil asked.
“So you didn’t like the ending.” Neil tries to lighten the mood so he elbows Todd teasingly.
“I didn’t.” Todd’s eyes are still wet when he admits this. He elbows Neil back to let him know he was fine. “Did you? Like the ending?” More questions.
“I don’t like sad endings.” Neil answers.
“You don’t?”
No!” Neil grins, “not at all. But sad endings have to happen sometime, don’t you think?”
And Todd can agree with that to a degree. It wasn’t like every story in the world ended exactly as people wanted them to. But it’s hard to know that when you spend so long rooting for the characters that didn’t get the happy ending. Especially considering these characters, Romeo and Juliet, kissed each other right when they met like Todd could never do. And they did funny, stupid things like shout to each other at a balcony because they had to, because they loved each other. They still died and it was unfair because they should have been happy.
Todd Anderson does not like death very much.
“Neil?”
“Yeah, Todd?”
“I get that sometimes sad endings have...have to happen but, w-why did Romeo and Juliet have to die?”
The question comes out and Todd wants to regret it. He’s on the brink of tears, his body asking him to cry again, but he doesn’t want to.
“Oh,” is all Neil says for quite some time. Then, just when Todd starts thinking that he’s said the wrong thing, he’s met with Neil saying “I don’t really know.”
“You don’t?”
“Well…” Neil thinks, unsure if he’s said the right thing himself. “No, maybe I do. I mean, the feud between their families had to end somehow.”
“But that can’t be...that can’t be it.” Todd feels the wet spill onto his cheeks but he can’t bring himself to reach up and rub it away. “It shouldn’t be the only reason.”
“It probably isn’t,” Neil agrees. “There’s probably a billion reasons for them to die or maybe Shakespeare only ever intended the one.”
“Maybe.” Todd does not agree.
Todd doesn’t know when it happens but Neil has his hand resting on Todd’s back now, hand circling. It’s surely meant to comfort him, but Todd wishes he never noticed because he tenses and Neil’s hand is off of him as quickly as it came. Todd wants it back. He scoots himself closer as if to say “please. Don’t be away from me. Not now.”
Neil gets the message. His hand goes back in place and Todd summons up all of the courage in his body and rests his head onto Neil’s shoulder. Unlike Todd, Neil does not tense at this and sets his own head against Todds. They sit like that for a long time.
The moment does get ruined, like all good moments do. Todd is the one to ruin it because, as they sit together, he starts thinking about how his hair must be greasy and his clothes are uncomfortable and he might smell bad. He moves because this is nothing more than a friend comforting him. And he wants more than a friend.
But, like previously mentioned, Todd Anderson is a liar, particularly to himself and does not think that Neil could ever love him back. And, again, maybe Shakespeare did have only one reason for why he writes certain things. But Todd Anderson does not believe there is one reason for anything.
When he moves, Todd, Neil let’s him with ease. They stare at one another, daring each other to say something.
“I kind of wish I was like them.” Todd says, more than one confession in his words.
“Hm?” Neil encourages an explanation.
“That’s what I’ve been thinking about the past few days.”
“Being like them?”
“Yeah. Kind of.”
“Kind of?”
“I mean, I don’t want to die.” Todd says it like it's obvious, like no one wants to die when they’re in love. But Romeo and Juliet did exactly that, so he’s wrong. He doesn’t correct himself, despite this. “But I like the other things.”
“Which things?”
“Like how they kissed when they first met.” Todd says it so shyly.
“You said you hated that.” Neil, delighted, accuses.
“I never said I hated it,” Todd points out, “I only pointed out that they kissed right when they met.”
“The hatred was implied.” Neil sets his hand on Todd’s knee in a totally friendly way that doesn’t make Todd want to scream.
“It was not,” Todd grumbles.
“Okay, okay.” Neil starts rubbing soothing circles on Todd’s knee with his thumb. “What else do you want to do?”
“I...I don’t know…” Todd does know and Neil knows that he knows, so there’s no use in hiding. “I want to do those stupid things that love makes you do.”
“Like Romeo and Juliet.”
“Like Romeo and Juliet. All of it.”
“But no death.”
“No!” Todd really could scream now. “I want...I want to kiss and laugh and,” Todd speaks so desperately, grabbing Neil’s hand with such a sudden force that he gasps in surprise at his own actions. “I want what they got to have, what Romeo and Juliet do. But I want to live through the end. I want that. Don’t you?”
His body has a slight shake to it, showing his nervousness. He looks Neil dead in the eyes and begs for a quick answer. Neil only nods and stifles a laugh. It could break Todd’s heart.
“What?” Todd questions. “If you’re going to laugh at me Neil, I don’t care anymore, you know…”
“Can I kiss you?”
Todd’s eyes widen and his grip loosens on Neil’s hand, afraid that he heard him incorrectly. “What?” His heart starts to speed up, telling him ‘yes, say yes! Before you wake up!’ His mind, of course more logical, works on telling the difference between a heart attack, a panic attack, and excitement.
“You said you want to kiss.”
“Yeah, but…” Todd moves away, his legs rising like he’ll kick Neil if he gets too close before he can explain himself. “You…” It’s a very mean thing to offer, Todd thinks, to kiss someone just because they said they wanted to kiss someone. Sure, it’s Neil he wants to kiss but if Neil only will because of that, he’d rather not kiss anyone at all.
“I want to kiss you, Todd. Not only because you said.” Neil reads his mind and says so casually.
“Why?”
“Why?” Neil repeats.
“Yes,” Todd lowers his brow, “why do you want to? You can’t just say something like that, Neil, not when I...Not when I’ve...I know you’ve kissed people before, but I haven’t, so-”
“You’re not people, Todd.”
“Then, what am I?”
“Someone I want to kiss.”
“Because you didn’t want to kiss the others?”
“Not how I want to kiss you. And not just because you said you wanted to kiss.”
“Then…”
“Please, Todd? I like you. I do. Can I kiss you?”
Todd pinches the inside of his palm so Neil can’t see that he’s still trying to figure out if this is all a dream. When he doesn’t wake up, Todd thanks the dark room for being dark, so Neil can’t see how deep his blush has become.
“Yes,” he answers.
So, Neil kisses him and Todd swears his heart is making a bet on how fast it can be before it explodes out of his chest. His cheeks are blazing and his stomach feels funny and his head is ringing, ringing, ringing. Neil’s hand lies itself gingerly against Todd’s cheek and cools the burning feeling. Todd appreciates he’s sitting because he’s pretty sure he would faint right there if he was standing.
As they kiss, Todd notes just how soft lips are and how weird it feels when someone's breath hits your own and with Neil that doesn’t seem so gross. It’s comfortable, so easy kissing Neil, that Todd lets himself fall into him, balancing himself by setting his hand on Neil’s knee.
Todd tries not to wince when they pull apart but he can’t help it because it hurts. Now that he knows what it's like to be connected to someone like that, how Romeo and Juliet so immediately were, Todd doesn’t want to be apart from Neil again.
When he opens his eyes, Neil is staring at him, his glasses tilted on his face. It’s sweet and Todd reaches out and fixes them, moving them until they sit back in the proper place on the bridge of Neil’s nose.
“You’re good at that.” Todd says, breathless because of course he is.
“So are you.” Neil responds, in a very schoolboy way.
“Shut up…” Todd tries to turn away, but Neil stops him by saying:
“So?”
“What?”
“I’ve kissed you.”
“You...You have.”
“I’ve kissed you.” Neil repeats. “But there’s more you said you wanted.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. You want to laugh.”
“Not just laugh.”
“Then what?”
“I want to laugh doing stupid things you do because you’re in love.”
“Let me make you laugh doing something stupid, then.”
“How will you do that?”
“What, you don’t think I’m funny? Don’t answer that.”
At that, Todd does laugh, but it’s only half the battle to Neil. “Watch this,” he says, and stands up, nearly sprinting to the door.
“Neil, what are you-”
“Watch!” He opens the door and shouts down the hallway, “hey everybody!”
“Neil!”
“Guess what! I’m in love-”
In love.
“I’m in love and I’m telling everybody!”
“Neil, stop!” Todd shouts too, covering his face with his hands.
“No! Everybody!” Neil continues his joyful shouting.
Just then, a door across the hallway swings open and Neil meets the eyes of Knox Overstreet, who looks displeased, his hair messy.
“Would you shut up? Some of us are trying to sleep.”
“Please, Knox, you told everyone when you were in love with Chris!”
“Not this late at night I didn’t.”
“You’re missing out then.”
“Go to bed, Perry!”
“No!”
And Todd is laughing. Like, side-splitting, can’t catch his breath laughing. He can’t help himself and he shouts towards the door. “I’m in love, too!” And he hears Knox groan something like “Not you too!”
Neil bids Knox goodnight and he shuts the door before someone else can come out to find the yelling culprit.
“You could get expelled for that, you know. If Nolan heard you.”
"Well, I had to do something stupid because I'm in love, like in the story, Todd!" Neil strides over confidently to his bed and sits back down next to Todd. He throws his arm over Todd’s shoulder. "Nolan can't expel me for that."
“I wouldn’t be too sure.”
“What, you think he really would expel me, then? Don’t answer that.”
Todd starts laughing again, not because it’s particularly funny, but he simply cannot help himself. Here they are, sitting on Neil’s bed and saying funny things, admitting the deeper things, to each other and feels a lot like life is about to speed up just because that’s what life does when you’re comfortable. He laughs because laughter is the only thing that can slow down time, prove time exists, if only for a moment.
“Ah, there’s more of that laugh. We’ve only got one more thing to do then.” Neil purses his lips in thought and looks around the room. Todd’s about to ask what he could be searching for when he says, “well, it looks like we’re already doing that. Living.”
“And through the end?”
“Always through the end, Todd.” Neil presses an affirming kiss to Todd’s cheek.
And Todd believes him.