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his binding didn’t hide his chest well, no matter how much he tried. neil was first to notice, the little bump underneath his shirt, and so he asked.
todd froze, staring down at his green, christmas-themed socks. he felt the meat under his skin burn, turn to ice, and burn again. he coughed, looked away, pretended not to hear.
“you goin’ to t’ gym when i’m not around?” was neil’s next question, clearly oblivious and interested. must like big men, todd thought, moving closer to the wall his bed rested against. his eyes went back to his socks, to the small hole on his pinky. even his feet were feminine.
“no.” he replied matter-of-factly, tugging at his sweater, as if neil would forget about the bump on his chest area.
he was so entranced by his panic that he couldn’t hear neil’s steps approaching, but he did feel the boy’s weight fall against the bed. he glanced up at him, vulnerable and defensive and desperate.
“then what’s up with it?”
“stop fucking acting dumb.”
neil froze. it was the first time he’d heard todd swear with such venom behind it.
one eyebrow raised, hand stretched to touch todd’s knee, the other rubbing at his calf. his hands were huge. of course they were. he was a man, he was a man.
tears were now in todd’s eyes, frustration tearing him apart. his skin hurt now, and the bandages hugged at his overheated chest, squeezing his ribs and making his breathing even worse. he fidgeted with his fingers and sniffed when he felt neil move his touch up to his cheeks, lips on his forehead.
he pressed his head against the boy’s chest like he’d found warmth after years of cold, hands tight in his sweater.
minutes passed, and it felt like hours, until todd spoke up.
“d’you like muscular men?”
neil froze once again. his fingers were now playing with soft brown locks of hair, moving on their own. his gulp was dry and todd heard it, but he still waited.
“i- no…. not exactly. like ‘em smaller than me.”
“but they have to be men, right?”
his cheek was now pressed against the cold wall of their room, staring at neil with half-lidded, sad eyes.
“yeah.”
“got it.”
he laid back, staring at the ceiling for a second.
“‘m not a man. ‘least not what you’d consider a man.”
“aw todd- being sensitive doesn’t make you any less of a ma—“
todd’s sweater was now tucked under his chin, hands holding it there, tight, trembling. neil never felt his cheeks warmer than now, but he didn’t expect to see what was in front of him.
bandages.
bandages holding something in place.
his hands itched to touch, to explore, to touch the skin he yearned for for so long.
and so he did.
his hand rested on todd’s abdomen, where small hair ran down under his slacks, and he stared at the way todd’s breathing hitched, the way his abdomen stuttered.
“what d’you not understand?!” he was angry now, emotional; neil was too much of what he wished to be, so he expected rejection; and when it didn’t come, he felt lost and confused. confused and thrown into air, except he couldn’t really breath it.
“i understand that you’re my todd.”