Chapter Text
Nightmares were a pretty common occurrence for Todd when he was younger. Like most kids, he'd dream of monsters in his closet or the villain in some horror movie he saw a glimpse of before his parents shooed him away. He'd always wake up and call for his parents or end up crawling into bed with them. His mom would smooth his hair back and hold him until he fell asleep. As he got older, it became less of, "Poor, sweet Todd had a nightmare," and more of, "Why is our teenage son waking up screaming every night?" And, rather than being comforted until he felt safe enough to go back to sleep, Todd got yelled at by his father. He was too old to be waking the whole house up with his crying. He needed to mature a little and get over it.
When Todd's parents told him he was transferring to a boarding school, he felt nothing but pure terror. Waking up his family from the aftermath of a nightmare was embarrassing enough. He couldn't imagine waking up a roommate or kids in other rooms or, God forbid, a teacher. His most recent nightmare wasn't typical.
He didn't even know if it fit the criteria for being a nightmare at all. Most would probably call it a wet dream.
Todd, like the others at his school, was raised a strict Catholic. For most of his childhood, anytime a taboo topic was brought up by a student at Sunday School or at the lunch table, it was quickly shoved under the rug by a teacher and forgotten about. Until suddenly, when Todd was about twelve, topics like sex and dating and homosexuality became very prevalent in his religious education.
The year before, Todd had his first crush on none other than a boy at his summer camp. Todd found himself eager to pair up with the boy for things like hikes and sports and swimming. At first, Todd thought he just really wanted to be friends with him, but over time, he realized that it wasn't normal to blush every time the other boy offered to share snacks with him or stayed up late talking to him in their cabin. Todd didn't feel that way with any of his other friends. He'd thought that maybe that was the reason he never had crushes on girls; he was supposed to like boys instead. Coming home to hear in church and Sunday School that it was sinful and wrong to feel that way about another boy absolutely ruined Todd. He'd always been a good kid. Never acted out, always got good grades, always stayed quiet during Mass. Finding out that he was a dirty sinner crushed him.
He went to his father for some solace. He thought that maybe it was a universal male experience or part of growing up to have a crush on your friend. In retrospect, that was the worst decision Todd ever made. He promptly got punished, leaving him with some nasty bruises for weeks after. Todd didn't think he could ever forget the look of horror and rage in his father's eyes or the way his mother wept when she found out. After going to confession once a week and spending extra time in the church for a few months, his parents seemed to forgive him, and the whole thing kind of blew over. The effects, however, were long-lasting.
Todd could hardly sleep for about three years after. His nightmares were all about Hell. Every waking moment was spent trying to repent and pray. The idea that he would burn for his sins made him physically ill more than a few times. The whole incident pushed Todd deep into his shell. He'd always been quiet and shy, but after everything, Todd could hardly speak during class or make any new friends. Transferring to Welton had been good for Todd. He was incredibly nervous about trying to adapt to a new school, but he quickly found that he was grateful to be away from home. His roommate, Neil, had also taken Todd under his wing.
Oh, Neil. He was everything that Todd wasn't, everything that Todd couldn't ever be. He was outgoing, extroverted, well-liked by even the most short-tempered of teachers and the rudest of students. Neil, despite the incredible pressure put on him by his father, was always so bright, so immensely cheerful. Todd realized shortly after meeting Neil that he was starting to feel like he had towards that boy at camp. He tried his hardest to withdraw himself from Neil, for fear that Neil would somehow find out and that their friendship would be ruined. Neil, however, refused to let Todd sink any deeper into the fortress he'd carefully constructed around himself.
Neil had to have been an angel. Todd, however embarrassing it was to admit it, refused to believe that Neil was anything less than heaven-sent. Neil was so pure, so kind. He always went out of his way to make Todd feel included, to cheer him up when he got upset, to offer his support when Todd needed something to lean on.
Todd woke from his dream and was immediately swallowed by shame. Tears pricked at his eyes and it suddenly became very hard to breathe. His heart pounded behind his ribcage, causing him to clutch at his chest a little. Was it possible for a seventeen-year-old to have a heart attack? His breathing was shallow and quick. He felt as if he'd fallen hard onto his back and gotten the wind knocked out of him. He sat up in bed and pushed his covers off of himself after realizing he was covered in sweat. God, he'd never felt more disgusting. His need for a clean pair of boxers wasn’t even the most pressing issue; the thing that upset him the most was the guilt.
Todd knew he would probably wake Neil with all his gasping but couldn't seem to stop. He stumbled out of bed and over to his desk, legs weak from panic and residual drowsiness. He collapsed at his desk chair, fumbling through the countless pencils and papers in his drawer until he found what he was looking for.
The rosary beads were cool against his flushed skin. He hated his subconscious for conjuring up something so filthy. He felt physically dirty, like there was a layer of grime covering his skin. Unbearably hot, he stripped off his t-shirt, desperately rubbing his hands over his shoulders and arms as if it would make him feel cleaner. He was halfway through whispering the Our Father, the rosary clenched tight in his hands, when his voice caught in his throat. He couldn't control the string of sobs that clawed their way up from his chest and past his lips. He was quick to press his hand over his mouth but the damage had already been done.
Neil shifted in his bed before he sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Todd?" he called. Todd shut his eyes tight, humiliated. It wasn't enough that he had to be tormented? Now he had to drag Neil into it? Todd didn't answer, only curling further in on himself. His breathing was even more ragged now than it had been before, his chest barely moving despite how hard he tried to make his lungs inflate.
Todd, too distracted by the pounding of his heart in his ears, hadn't noticed that Neil had gotten out of bed and crossed the room. Neil had turned the small table lamp on, illuminating the room. Todd could have sworn Neil was the one glowing. Todd glanced up at him, the concern in Neil's dark eyes making him melt. He tore his gaze away quickly. He couldn't look at Neil without the shame sinking in a little deeper. Couldn't look at him without thinking about how he'd just dreamed about Neil touching him in ways boys shouldn't touch each other.
"Hey," Neil said softly, leaning against the desk and placing his hand on Todd's shoulder. "What's wrong?" Todd couldn't do anything but shake his head. He wished Neil would stop touching him. Couldn't he see how filthy Todd was?
"Nightmare," Todd managed to choke. Neil squeezed his shoulder a little.
"You wanna talk about it?" Todd shook his head. "Alright. Just try to take a deep breath, okay? You gotta breathe." Todd tried to ask Neil to take his hand off his shoulder for fear that he would contaminate Neil's soul somehow, but his words came out slurred, garbled. Todd could almost feel the darkness pouring out of him and leaching into Neil's hand, spreading up his arm. "It's alright," Neil murmured, gently sweeping his thumb over Todd's skin. Todd wanted to scream. He didn't deserve this kindness. He couldn't believe that Neil had come to comfort him immediately, in the middle of the night, no-questions-asked. He was the most selfless person Todd had ever known.
"Let's get you back into bed. It's real cold in here. You've gotta be freezing." Neil reached down to Todd's hands and tried to untangle the beads from his fingers. "There's time to pray later. You need to rest now."
Todd shook his head. "Get—get away from—" He tried to say, choked by his sobs. Neil crouched on the ground in front of Todd, gently placing his hand on Todd's knee.
"Come on. I can help you back into bed,” he said. Todd buried his face in his hands. He was so beyond humiliated. Neil stood, giving Todd's arm a gentle tug. Todd didn't have the energy to fight it anymore. He stood up shakily, his entire body feeling weak and fatigued. He locked eyes with Neil and finally let himself crumble against his chest, his hands curling around Neil's shoulders. One of Neil's arms wrapped around Todd's back.
The rosary beads fell to the floor with a clatter.
It wasn't a sin to be comforted, right? Todd buried his face in the collar of Neil's shirt, sobbing hard against him, clinging to his shoulders for dear life. ''You're okay," Neil soothed. "It was just a dream. It's alright now." Todd dragged in a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart and ease the ache in his chest.
"Just a dream," he echoed, his voice muffled by Neil's shirt.
"Here," Neil said, guiding Todd over to his bed. Todd sat on the edge, placing his elbows on his thighs and his hands over his face. Neil sat beside him, reaching onto the bed and pulling a blanket around Todd's shoulders. Todd didn't realize how cold he was until he was enveloped in the warmth of the soft fabric. Both his dream and the panic that followed made him hot enough to sweat, but the coldness in their room was enough to make his body temperature quickly plummet.
Todd took a shaky breath, moving his hands off his face and pulling his blanket fully around himself. Deep down, he knew he hadn't technically done anything wrong—it wasn't like he could control his dreams—yet he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd done something so vile and inexcusable that God would never forgive him. "You should try and go back to sleep," Neil said, his voice pulling Todd away from the pit of guilt he was slowly sinking into. Todd turned to look at him, and—had Neil always been sitting that close?
Neil looked golden. The dim yellow light from the lamp reflected in his eyes, making them look less like the coffee color Todd was used to and more like pieces of amber. His skin looked as if it had been gilded, and even his deep brown hair was highlighted by the soft glow. Neil looked angelic. Todd knew he must've looked less than desirable at that moment. His hair was a mess and he was still sweaty and he knew his face must have been an embarrassing shade of red. Todd felt that he, a mere mortal, should be ashamed to be in Neil's presence.
Todd felt like everything was moving in slow motion. Every blink, every breath. Like he was submerged in a deep pool of honey, the same golden shade that Neil seemed to have turned. And, God, Todd wished he could just let himself melt into it. Todd allowed his gaze to fall to Neil's lips for a moment. Had they always looked so soft? He wondered what would happen if he just leaned in a little, pressed his own against—
No, no, no. It wasn't right. It was immoral, sinful, deeply wrong in every way. Todd's hands started to tremble again, an icy claw gripping his heart and making it struggle to beat. "Get some rest," Neil whispered, giving Todd's thigh a gentle pat. Todd scarcely had the energy to nod. Neil gave him a small, weak smile before heading back to his own bed. Todd immediately missed his warmth. Some small part of his brain was begging him to reach out, grab Neil's hand, to fall asleep pressed close to him. He quickly shut it down and pushed it away, lying down in his bed and facing the wall. He wanted to thank Neil but the words died on his lips every time he tried to speak.
When Todd closed his eyes that night, rather than the usual darkness behind his eyelids, all he could see was gold.
Like the majority of the boys in his class, Todd groaned internally when Mr. Keating announced that they were on their Shakespeare unit. "This is the one you've been dreading! And yes, I am aware that you've studied Shakespeare in the past. This is different, though. You're going to see Shakespeare in a way you've never seen him before." Todd felt a little less annoyed when he turned and saw the elated expression on Neil's face. Reading plays in class terrified Todd; Keating always gave him a main role and made him read his lines aloud over and over until he actually put some emotion into his voice. Watching Neil act made it worth it.
Neil lived to act. It was evident in every part of his life. He always sprinkled lines from his current play into conversations, was always so theatrical and eloquent in the way he spoke, as if a regular topic was beautiful verse. Watching him in class was a huge privilege, but watching him on stage felt like witnessing a miracle. Ever since Neil was a part of A Midsummer Night's Dream a few months prior, he'd become obsessed with Shakespeare.
Todd treasured the memory of that night. Watching Neil perform, fortunately avoiding any interaction or altercation with Neil's father, walking back to Welton in the snow with Neil after the play. December had been a good month for Todd. February, however, he hated. He'd always loved the snow but hated when it turned to nothing but muddy sludge that refused to fully melt. All the trees bare, all the grass brown and dead, the weather still bitter cold with none of the beauty of snow to accompany it.
"In honor of everyone's favorite holiday arriving soon, I've decided we're going to read Romeo and Juliet first," Keating said, looking more than amused when some of the students audibly moaned in exasperation. "I know, I know," he laughed, holding up a hand defensively. "You all know how it ends. However, that doesn't make the message any less important."
Keating always paced around the room when he taught. Sitting stationary at a desk for hours was clearly of no interest to him. It always made Todd nervous when Keating approached him, scared that he would put him on the spot and make him spontaneously recite some poetry or something. Keating ambled around the room, pausing to stand near Todd's desk. "When you're young, love seems untouchable, like it's some wild, untamed creature that you're not sure how to approach. However, if you think you spot it, you need to grab it by the throat and hold on tight. True love is a rare thing, boys."
He walked past Todd's desk and towards the front of the room, allowing Todd to take a breath for the first time in a minute. "Now, sometimes, love is a gentle little thing. Other times, it's fiery and raw. It's up to us to figure out how to balance it and to find an outlet for it, as I've spoken before. Love is why we create, whether it's poetry, art, whatever—so much stems from someone trying to cope with it. I am talking about romantic love, here, but don't let that discredit other types; love for your friends, your peers, your family, are all just as important as romance is."
Todd's heart was pounding in his chest. Keating's speeches always provoked some sort of emotion that he'd tried so hard to keep out of sight and buried.
"Love in Shakespeare plays is not always innocent. Take Othello and Desdemona, for example. The love he had for her was superficial, controlling, and very unhealthy—which is why we're beginning this unit with Romeo and Juliet rather than Othello. Yes, it ends in tragedy, but I want you boys to understand what love really, truly is before we move onto the mutated forms it can take."
This much talk of love made Todd nervous. He didn't think he'd ever been in love.
Neil seemed like someone he could fall for, though.
Todd wanted to slap the thoughts out of his brain. God, he couldn't even hear someone talk about love without his mind immediately jumping to Neil. It seemed the more he tried to ignore his feelings for Neil, the more intense they got.
"Do you think they're stupid?" Todd asked a few days later. His worn, school-issued copy of Romeo and Juliet, which was probably older than him, was open in his lap. He sat sideways in his bed, legs stretched out in front of him, his notebook open on the bed beside him.
Neil, sitting at his desk, hard at work on a homework assignment, turned to him. "What?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Romeo and Juliet. Do you think they're stupid for, like, risking it all for each other?" Todd clarified, feeling a little confused himself when Neil laughed.
"They were in love," he answered simply, smiling and turning back to his homework. "I'm listening. You can keep talking."
"I just—they knew it was wrong. They knew it was frowned upon and forbidden and they did it anyway. I don't get why this play is, like, the prime example of romance. Maybe I'm just missing the point, but I feel like it means that loving someone you shouldn't just... ends badly for everyone," Todd said, biting his lip and looking back down at his book.
Neil stood up from his desk. "I'm putting my chemistry homework on hold. This is more important," He stated, walking over and sitting next to Todd.
Todd frowned. "People died because of them—including themselves. Keating said that their suicides can be viewed as a final act of love, but it's not like you can love someone while you're dead."
"They couldn't live without each other! Did we read the same play?" Neil asked, smiling a little and poking the book a few times with his forefinger. "You were there for that lesson Keating taught. He said that we can't let society dictate how we live. Romeo and Juliet didn't."
Todd read over a few of his notes again, scouring his brain for a way to articulate his thoughts. "Would you be with someone even if you knew it was wrong?" he asked. His words hung in the air, the tension so thick Todd could practically feel it against his skin. His blood ran cold as he realized how Neil might interpret his question.
Neil looked directly into Todd's eyes. "If I loved them, I don't think I'd care about what anyone else thought." Todd buckled under his gaze, under the weight of his words.
"Even—even though it's wrong?" he asked, flicking his eyes away, not able to handle Neil's gaze boring into his soul for even a second longer.
"Even if it's wrong."
Todd felt like he'd been thrown into a bucket of ice water. His heart was racing and his chest felt a little tight but it wasn't from panic. No, it was from something much gentler than panic. He tried to shove the thought away, tried to drag it out of his mind and bury it deep underground, but his attempt to suppress it only made it more apparent.
Was it possible that Neil reciprocated his feelings?
Todd had to have been reading too much into it. It just wasn't possible. He'd never met anyone else like him. What were the chances that Neil was also a queer? And even if he was, why in the world would he be interested in Todd, of all people? Neil could have anyone he wanted; he was charming, charismatic, amiable. There was no way he would choose Todd.
Todd pulled himself back into the present to find that Neil was still staring intently at him, his head slightly tilted. "I do kind of agree with you. It shouldn't be the prime example of romance. But I don't know if I'd call them stupid. They were just kids, after all," Neil went on, seeming to be completely unbothered by the situation. Todd was burning from the inside out, wanting to scream or throw his book or pull Neil into a kiss—he had so many emotions and nowhere to put them all. The shame was starting to bubble up again, too. It was perpetually there, always waiting beneath the surface, lingering in the background. Todd felt overwhelmed and hated himself for even initiating this conversation. Maybe some small part of him hoped it would lead to some sort of confession, but God, was he regretting ever bringing the topic up.
"Do—what chemistry homework are you doing? Do you want any help?" Todd asked, trying to change the subject, hoping he was discreet about it.
"The one assigned on Wednesday; page 133 or something? It's not too bad. Thanks, though," Neil said, looking grateful that Todd had even offered. Something in Todd's chest knotted up tightly.
Todd's next nightmare was actually a nightmare. He was sure it fit all the criteria this time.
He'd been struggling with his feelings for Neil more and more as the weeks progressed. He hadn't come to terms with anything. His intense fear of eternal punishment kept him back from so much. So many unsaid words, so many held-back emotions.
He really wished his nightmares were still like they'd been as a kid—he'd take monsters any day over what his dreams currently consisted of. Usually fire; being trapped inside a burning building, smoke filling his lungs, wood beams and walls crashing down around him. He couldn't ever move or scream or run, couldn't breathe.
This dream, in particular, was different, though. Still the same burning building as usual, but this time, Todd wasn't alone. Neil was with him, clueless about what was going on around him. Neil! Todd wanted to scream, You need to get out! All he could do was sit and watch as Neil was consumed by flames. Couldn't run to him, couldn't cry his name or call for help. The fire started to close in on him, choked by the heavy smoke, his skin charring.
Todd was shaken awake, someone repeating his name, hands on his shoulders. It took him a moment to register where he was. He blinked a few times, his eyes bleary from both sleep and tears. Neil's face came into focus, his brown eyes gentle.
Todd hated crying in front of others. The morning after his last 'nightmare,' facing Neil was painfully embarrassing. Todd wasn't used to receiving comfort when he was upset. When he was a small child, sure, his mother would calm him down. As soon as he was about seven or eight, though, crying in front of his parents only resulted in discipline—a sharp slap to his face, being told to man up, being dragged to stand in the corner.
Neil was so overwhelmingly kind that it made Todd want to scream. This was twice he'd gotten up in the middle of the night to come to Todd's aid. Todd truly felt undeserving of so much attention.
"Another nightmare?" Neil asked, his voice soft. Todd wiped his tear-stained cheek with the heel of his palm, nodding. "Yeah, I thought so. You had me worried, you were kinda thrashing around and crying and I couldn't get you to wake up," Neil said, settling onto Todd's bed.
"Sorry," Todd choked, feeling horrible for waking Neil.
"Don't apologize," Neil said, rubbing Todd's arm. He was so close; Todd wondered what would happen if he leaned against Neil's leg or laid his head down in Neil's lap or wrapped his arm around his waist.
"You should go back to sleep," Todd said, drowsy.
"Are you gonna be alright? There's gotta be something I can do to help," Neil insisted.
Todd shook his head. "I don't wanna keep you up."
"No. If there's something I can do to help you feel better, just tell me."
Todd sighed, knowing that it would be better for the both of them if he just gave in. "Could you—" he started, pausing and thinking over his idea once more, making sure it wasn't too humiliating of a request, "Could you read to me?"
Neil's lips curled into a small smile. "Of course. Gimme a second, I have to find a book," he said, standing and going to search through his desk. He returned moments later, the thick Five Centuries Of Verse book that Keating had given him in hand. "Anything specific you wanna hear?" Neil asked, opening the book and flipping through a few pages.
"No, you can just find whatever," Todd hummed, shutting his eyes and curling a little deeper into his bed. Neil sat beside him again, starting to read through a poem Todd had never heard before. He was too tired to pay any attention to the actual words, though. All he could hear was Neil's voice—slightly raspy from being asleep only minutes before, soft and gentle, full of concern.
Todd quickly slipped back into sleep, feeling safer than he had in a long time.