Work Text:
It's a friday evening, but the Dead Poets still had quite some time til lights-out.
Todd is doing his chemistry homework. Well, Todd is supposed to be doing his chemistry homework, he isn't very invested. He keeps glancing over to Neil, rehearsing his lines, lying on his bed with his feet proped up against the headboard and his script in hand. He's got most of the lines commited to memory already, and he only just got the role.
Todd can't help it, whenever Neil starts reciting, it's like he's being transported to a different world. Neil's perfect heartbeat rhythm, the emotion in his voice, it erases everything around him, puts his expression and body language in sharp relief. Todd doesn't know how a human could be more beautiful.
Todd scrawls the words flying around his brain onto a spare bit of paper on his desk.
The moonlight shines and mixes, silver and gold, with the lamps alight on our desks.
Bronze your face shines, one slant glance and it's burned into memory.
One slant glance is enough to show the adoration on my face and I'm afraid.
Eyes fixed onto paper, equations unsolved, your face, in silver, gold and bronze, overlays.
Todd isn't sure when his feelings for his roommate developed. He knows it wasn't some fairytale love at first sight, as romantic as it would have been. No, it was the little moments, building up over time, without him noticing - although not surprising Todd in the slightest.
Looking back, Neil isn't the first boy he's had feeling for that went beyond the platonic. The odd boy in middle school he saw in the hallways and found handsome or a somewhat close friend he wanted to impress a bit too much but could never quite manage to. He was always knew he was different from his peers in that respect. Different from the Dead Poets, who so often raved at the mere mention of girls like Chris.
But Neil inviting him to study group, Neil inviting him to the Dead Poets Society, Neil doing his damnest to make sure Todd didnt feel uncomfortable (Did they even need minutes of the meetings?), but not coddling him like a child. This thing with Neil was different.
"No."
"It's rather aerodynamic, is it not?"
"I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life!"
Suddenly, Neil looked up and over to him, his expression so open and happy; and asked, "What?"
"Huh?"
"C'mon, Todd. I could feel your stare boring into me."
Todd blinked, slightly taken aback. He hadn't even noticed. "Oh. Sorry, sorry, it's nothing. Just, you know. Couldn't concentrate on my work."
Neil's eyes widend and he sat up on the bed, bringing his legs down, "Am I bothering you?"
Yes, but not in a bad way. I could listen to your voice forever and not get tired, nor have it lessen your being my muse.
"Oh, no no. Don't worry about it, I really didn't feel like doing chemistry anyways," he said, hoping he didn't make Neil feel guilty.
Neil didn't say anything for a moment, holding eye contact in that charmingly intense of his. It's become somewhat of a thing for the two of them. Prolonged eye contact without much rhyme or reason. Todd could write endless poems about Neil's eyes.
He was comfortable with the other as he has never been before, with anyone. Like letting Neil into his little bubble of safety he's created in his quietness, letting him get a glimps his soul and getting a glimps of Neil's in return.
"Help me practise?" Neil asked kindly, "I'm on act 5 and the last bit really does need an audience. Just sit there and look pretty." He gestured to the bed opposite and winked.
Todd's ears burned at the compliment, but nods his assent. The blinding smile he gets in return is worth anything.
While plonking himself down on his bed, bouncing slightly for the fun of it, Neil scrambles up onto his, perfect actor's posture made wobbly on the unstable mattress. He looks down for a second, eyes closed. When Neil looks up he is no longer Neil, but Puck instead.
"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this and all is mended:
That you have but slumbered here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend.
If you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearnèd luck
Now to ’scape the serpent’s tongue,
We will make amends ere long.
Else the Puck a liar call.
So good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends."
Tood is struck speechless. He's seen his friend recite or perform quite often now, but one on one like this? He wouldn't trade it for the world. Neil is in his element, as if he were born for this. How ironic, considering his father's staunch beliefs for his sons future.
"You're staring again," Neil says with a smirk.
Todd really needed to get his feelings under control before he does something rash and entirely out of character.
"That- You were amazing."
Now it's Neil's turn to blush. Odd, Neil isn't really very shy about his acting.
He jumps off the bed, old floorboards giving a loud creak in protest, and saunters over in two drawn out steps.
Neil leaned his arm against the wall, a mirror to many prior conversations, "Well no wonder, with such a good audience."
"I just sat here!" Todd protested, gaze fluttering about - he didn't want to stare again.
"Prettily, I might add," came Neil's smirking rebuff.
The two boys locked eyes again. Neil was backlit by the glowing light of the moon through the window. He looked truly heavensent. Natus Lunae. Todd, rashly and in a rush of confidence told him,
"You look like an angel, ma lune."
Neil's change in expression, from smug to floundering and blushing furiously, could've been described as comical, had Todd not been so nervous about the others reaction.
"That- What? Did you just call me your moon?"
Todd smiled nervously, about to open his mouth. He wasn't even sure what he was going to say. Maybe some joke about Neil almost falling asleep in their last french lesson. Not that it mattered, because Neil's hand came up to cup his cheek. He looked awestruck, as if he were the one who couldn't believe what was happening.
Neil's hand was warm, practically burning, on Todd's cheek. He involuntary leaned into the touch, all while holding eye contact.
Todd never thought he'd be so okay with being the centre of attention. But when Neil Perry looks at him like that, with that glint in his eye - the one that tells him he's being seen and not just looked at - he finds he doesnt mind it.
"Can I...?" All Todd could do was nod.
Neil bent down, bringing his other hand up as well, but stopped just before Todd's face, eyes flicking between his mouth and eyes. Todd has never known him to be so hesitant, he decided to close the distance by himself.
The kiss was fleeting. Dry, warm, lips on his own. Todd's heart was beating out of his chest, but not like it would when he had to talk in class, or when someone compared him to his brother yet again. No this felt like what he imagined a roller coaster to feel like, stomach dropping and exhilarating.
It was over almost as quickly as it began, both of them pulling back and staring again, mouthes twisted into grins. Neil was still standing, half bent forwards. Todd grasped him by the shoulder and guided him to sit next to him on his bed. Giggling slightly Todd lent in again, Neil meeting him halfway.
The kisses were innocent, everything still so new. Todd felt so light, as if they would float right off the face of the earth, clasped together.
Not too long after, they pulled back, breathing heavier than before.
"I could write a thousand poems about just this moment," Todd muttered into the space between them.
"I'm not sure i could recite them all without turning pink." Neil muttered back, seeming quite affected at the words.
Todd grinned in earnest, "Hand me some paper and pen."
Neil burst out smiling anew -albeit more shyly- but quickly complied.
Todd didn't need to ponder his words long.
The moonlight shines and mixes, silver and gold, with the lamps alight.
Bronze your face shines, one slant glance and it's burned into memory.
Ma lune, I must write of thee, mine most prized.
One slant glance suffices to send me into reverie.
Ma lune, come near.
Handing Neil the paper, he asked, "How about you start by reciting this at our meeting tonight? I'll be sure to rate and record the severity of your blush for future reference."