Chapter Text
Breakfast is loud.
Charlie’s arguing with Cameron over something stupid, Knox keeps stealing toast off people’s plates, Meeks is half-asleep over his coffee—and Neil hasn’t looked at Todd once.
Which, apparently, is strange enough for everyone to notice immediately.
Neil deliberately takes the empty seat beside Charlie, intentionally avoiding Todd’s gaze as he sits alone across the table. And for the first time, the space beside Todd remains empty. Todd realizes, with a twist in his stomach, that he always leaves a space for Neil—only this time, Neil doesn’t take it.
"Well," Charlie says slowly, "this is horrifying." He looks between the two of them like he's waiting for an explanation, but Neil just stares at his coffee. Todd picks at his nails beneath the table and discreetly glances towards Neil for the same reason as Charlie.
"What is?" Neil deadpans, and Charlie narrows his eyes.
"You're voluntarily sitting away from Anderson," Charlie exclaims, but Neil only shrugs. "I can do that."
Charlie blinks, exasperated, and raises an eyebrow at Neil. "Can you?"
Todd lowers his gaze towards his tray before anyone can see the hurt on his face.
Charlie and Meeks debate whether or not this is the coldest day of the season, their noise drawing attention from various passersby.
Neil, however, is already feet ahead of the group, his wool coat collar turned up against the wind, and his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He paces towards the dormitories with an unreadable urgency, as if he’s running from something.
He can faintly hear the banter from behind him, “—Well, of course you don’t think it’s freezing. If you unzipped that sleeping bag you’re wearing you’d get frostbite.” Charlie shouts, and Meeks looks down at his parka with a sullen look.
“Today can’t be any colder than last week—look! Even the snow’s starting to melt!” Meeks exclaims and pours out his water bottle onto the snow-covered ground as if Charlie won’t notice.
Knox’s steps falter, letting the others walk ahead until he’s at Todd’s side. He looks at Todd’s downcast eyes, the way Todd is staring at his own boots hitting the snow.
"Hey," Knox says softly, his voice full of genuine concern. "Did you guys... have a fight or something? I've never seen him look at you like that. Or, well, not look at you."
Todd just swallows hard, pulling his hands into his sleeves. "No," he whispers, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "Everything's fine."
The click of the dorm room door locking behind them sounds deafening in the quiet room.
Neil walks straight toward his desk, avoiding Todd’s stare, and picks up a book he doesn’t look at. The silence between them makes Todd feel lightheaded, his hands trembling slightly as he bunches the hem of his sleeves into his palms.
"Neil," Todd breaks the silence, his voice coming out smaller than he wants it to be.
Neil’s shoulders stiffen, but he doesn’t turn around. "We should get started on the Latin translation, it’s due tomorrow and—"
"Did I do something?"
Todd cuts through Neil's panicked rambling, and Neil stops, his knuckles turning white as he grips his desk.
"No," Neil says too quickly, his voice tight. "Of course not."
"Then look at me," Todd pleads with watery eyes, just now realizing the tears forming in them—and he hates himself for it. But the sheer terror of losing Neil, of having ruined the one good thing in his life, is overwhelming.
He hesitates before taking a step forward, the floorboards creaking beneath his shoes. "Please, Neil. You haven’t looked at me all day. You wouldn’t even sit next to me. If... if it’s about the sweater, or me falling on the stairs—"
"Todd, stop." Neil chokes out, his grip tightening.
"I can move out," Todd’s voice breaks completely now, and tears begin to spill over his cheek. He rushes to wipe them away, his face burning, "I—I can ask the Headmaster for a room reassignment. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I just—I need you to tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it. Please—Please don't hate me."
Suddenly, Neil spins around, unable to form a coherent thought. He crosses the room and closes the distance between them without thinking, his hands trembling as they instinctively move forward, grabbing the fabric of Todd’s shirt at the waist. His fingers curl tightly into the material as he practically yanks Todd against him, and Todd lets out a sharp, startled gasp, in response.
Their faces are inches apart, and Todd can see the dark, fearful warmth in Neil’s eyes, he can feel the shaky, uneven heat of Neil’s breath against his lips. Yet Neil freezes, his eyebrows pulling together as he stares at the tear stains framing Todd’s face.
Todd doesn’t pull away. Instead, he solely looks up at Neil with glassy eyes and an expression Neil can’t describe.
"I don't know how to be here if you're not with me," Todd whispers against Neil’s cheek, his voice trembling but honest. "You're the only one who ever truly sees me, Neil."
Neil’s eyes widen, and with a sharp, desperate gasp, he impulsively closes the small gap between them. It’s sudden, breathless, and catches Todd completely off guard. Yet he immediately melts in the kiss, naturally bringing his hands up to cup Neil’s jaw, pulling him closer.
The sudden rush catches him off balance, and Todd's heels catch on the edge of the rug as his knees give out under Neil’s weight against him, causing them both to stumble backward together.
Neil’s arm tightens where it’s wrapped around Todd’s waist to catch him, hoisting him up so they both don’t end up on the floor, sending Todd back until his shoulders hit the wardrobe with a soft thud.
Todd’s hands move towards the back of Neil’s neck, his fingers tangling between dark locks, holding him there. Neil kisses him like he’s trying to apologize for the entire day, and it’s a little messy…Their breaths hitching together, their hands moving on autopilot. But gradually, everything slows down.
Neil's forehead comes to rest against Todd's shoulder, completely breathless. He's still holding onto Todd's waist, just staying there, his face hidden in the crook of Todd's neck. The room is quiet again, except for the radiator clanking in the corner, and Todd's hands are still buried in Neil's hair, his heart racing.
"I don't hate you," Neil whispers, his voice raw. "I could never hate you, Todd."
Todd takes a shaky breath, his fingers tightening in Neil's curls. "Then why..." he starts to ask, and Neil pulls back to meet his gaze. His cheeks are pink, his hair's a mess, and his eyes are wide and vulnerable.
Finally, he lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head, "because I realized," Neil says softly, his thumb tracing a circle on Todd's side.
"Last night, when I was carrying you... I looked at you and I realized I don't know how to be just your friend," He pauses, his voice just above a whisper. "It scared me."
Todd just stares at him, the panic in his chest immediately leaving, and he realizes with utter bemusement that Neil is entirely clueless.
"You're an idiot," Todd murmurs, a small, genuine smile finally tugging at the corners of his lips.
Neil blinks, a bit startled, and then a familiar, bright grin breaks across his face. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Todd whispers. He reaches up, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from Neil's forehead, letting his hand linger against his cheek.
"You don't have to be just my friend, I don't want you to be."
Neil's grin softens into something so full of endearment it makes Todd's chest ache, and Neil leans down again, but this time it’s slow and sweet, a gentle press of the lips that feels more grounding instead of messy or reckless.
He casually slides his hand down to catch Todd's, threading their fingers together naturally as he tugs him toward the bed.
"Come on," Neil says, his voice dropping back into its usual, comfortable tone. "You're freezing, and we still have that Latin translation."
He lets himself be pulled along, and as they sink into the mattress, tangled in a messy pile of shared blankets, Todd realizes he doesn’t have to convince himself that this is normal anymore.